Facebook annihilates my self-esteem. It's taken years of daily affirmations to recover from my bad choices: claw bangs, orange skin, Boy George, and electric blue mascara. Like moths to a flame, the pictures come back to burn me (and Janet Jackson) for our wardrobe malfunctions. Does that simile even make sense?
In case you're wondering, I'm the one standing in fifth position, head tilted, ready to be crowned Miss USA. At least my orange hair matches my legs.
P.S. Please respect my white Keds.
P.P.S I still love you, Kara, even though you posting this picture forced me to make another appointment with my therapist.