Pretty People

The County Fair for me holds lots of things.  Small joys with my kids, lots of high school memories and  tons of music and tradition.  For the most part, it was a positive experience this year all the way around. I was exhausted being a chemo patient and up there over 12 hours one day, and various days similar days but other than that, it was fine.  Kids made out like bandits on sale so we are very thankful.

But I struggled with last night.  Joe and I worked the dance hall booth (like I did last year).  I can't fit into anything attractive because of the steroids so I wore a t-shirt and jeans that What Not to Wear would hang me for, I am bald wearing a scarf, despite my makeup my eyebrows and eyelashes are almost completely gone....so the belle of the ball is gone.  I was never a beautiful woman but the one that used to flirt and charm her way through a dance floor is no more.  It was hard to swallow.

I was surrounded by pretty girls with their pretty blingy clothes that I can't fit into anymore, with their pretty long hair and their pretty sparkly jewelry.  They were flirting with the pretty boys that gave them a lot of attention.  And they laughed and danced to pretty music. (I sat and watched, a lot like Scarlett O'Hara at the Ball after she is widowed for the first time).  Then those pretty girls leaned into the dance hall booth where we sold beer chips and smiled and flirted with my pretty husband where he occasionally and innocently flirted back. Thus, I wanted to scratch their pretty little eyes out.  Hard to digest - to put it mildly.

I was exhausted after being at auction until 2:30 that day and all week so I tried to put it into perceptive but driving home I cried.  My husband asked me what was wrong but I didn't dare start speaking in fear of the flood that would follow.  I hated all those girls.  I hated all those clothes that I would not fit into.  I hated their hair.  I hated all the starched up boys that asked them to dance.  Most of all I hated the way I looked and how people looked at me.

I don't write this blog to make people feel better.  I write what I honestly feel about cancer. Honestly is not pretty. I have been pretty upbeat all week but goodness last night kicked me in the gut all over again.