44. Fluff

Day 44
and I’m doing just fine.

Pictures soon! I promise!

Every day I look in the mirror and look different than yesterday.
thank god.

I was starting to look like a sugar skull.


“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.”

My dad said this a lot growing up.  Every time I ever cried about getting picked on.
It worked well in the beginning.  Then eventually I was out witted.

“I’m rubber your glue whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you”

That’s another winner I heard a lot growing up.
Needless to say I didn’t have very many friends.



I used to get picked on.  Its funny I remember when I first started modeling and was chosen as a “Digital Darling” for FHM Magazine, all the boys that picked on me the worst were the first ones to remember exactly who I was.  ” WOW you sure changed!” Bastards.  I prolly would have done better in school if I didn’t spend so much time watching over my shoulder.

They used to crumble tiny little pieces of paper into little balls and throw them in my curly hair.  I would go home and pick little paper balls out of my hair.  Some days I cried, other days I would be pissed and just want to punch someone.  I remember learning what a “hoopty” was in 7th grade math.  we were learning how to balance a check book and the teacher was talking about vehicle maintenance and fuel expenses and made the reference to a “hoopty”.  I of course asked whatever that could be and was rebutted with laughter and a classmates answer of “its what your dad drives Brittany.” Apparently a “hoopty” was a 12 year old dirty RED Nissan Sentra that squeaked, rattled and bumped Too Short and  Eazy E.  Thanks dad haha ♥

I remember the last few weeks of school digging through my grandmas closet I found some of her old “nickers” ( the first pants/jeans girls wore) from the 60’s they were soft pastels greens, pinks, and yellows.  I LOVED them.  I had just seen on some television show that some designer was reinventing the same pants and I was so excited that I had the real deal and not some “designer wannabe”  I couldn’t wait to wear them to school.  but of course, before school even started the popular girls were the first to notice and chuckle at my short pants.  ” waiting for a flood” they would snicker and the rest of the day was a barrage of the same jokes.  One group of girls started and entire comedy mob over my vintage high waters.  I remember going to the bathroom and just wishing that I could crawl into a corner and hide until school was over.  Get this, the next summer that VERY same girl was wearing “capris” as those girls called them.

I was like pfffft chi pft pffft ka’ pft


I did it first.

and better

In my GRANDMAS pants yo.


I used to shake it off pretty good.

I guess you can say I’m USED to bullies.

bullies are just bored.
and insecure.

they see other people changing or excelling and
they only wish they were strong enough or smart enough
to make a change in themselves.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world”
Mahatma Gandhi



I wonder if she remembers me.  I wonder where she is now.  Its funny the people you seek years later in life and wonder as to their whereabouts.  She was the brightest sunniest soul on the planet.  Like literally a rainbow.  I watched this girl get picked on for everything and nothing seemed to bother her.  She took everything so light hearted and cheery.  I remember being her friend and always respecting how strong she was for just enduring.  I wonder where she is now.

6 thoughts on “44. Fluff

  1. Pingback: Beautiful Woman | Fabulous 50's

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