Because of course I had to document my first of four chemo treatments. I wanted to dress up a bit, comfortable but gothy, not going to wear sloppy PJs or anything too lazy. I needed to look as good as I could to take on this thing.
Plus I incorporated some powerful symbols -- cat-print shoes for my kitty loves (past & present), a locket with a photo of me getting my literature degree from U.C. Berkeley (an important accomplishment in my life), key earrings I made (keys are a lucky symbol, opening doors, keys to success), a peace symbol stud earring (for my hippie past & pacifist nature), a ying-yang earring stud (for balance in life), & a female symbol earring (for the feminine power within). Also, my fave. lipstick evar & stripes because. they rock :)
What I'm wearing:
Black knit dress, Target
Black wool ruffled bolero sweater, Kohls
Black corset-style elastic belt, Torrid
Black & white vertically striped leggings, Torrid
Black & white cat-print wedge sneakers, PlasticLand
Black socks, unknown brand
Silver locket necklace, vintage
Pewter key earrings, made by me
Black & white flower hair pin, random accessory store
Chanel Vamp lipstick
Dylan Thomas --
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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| Selfie in the chemo chair -- so far, so good! |
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