...And now that this PSA is over, reflection in the form of taffeta, ribbons and rhinestones.

you know, today really is an important day.

forget the presidential election for a minute, and let's focus on the other things that made it significant.

1. It's three weeks. whoopdeefreakingdoo. I'm glad that I had to remind him. When he was the one bugging me about it for the past 4 days. But I don't really care, it's not a real commemorative time frame anyway. but since i'm a women cursed with raging hormones, this struck a nerve in me.

2. I got out my winter clothes (all 3 jumbo tubs of them) and put away my summer clothes. goodbye short-shorts and tank tops, sundresses and flip flops.... hello boots and sweaters, cords and feathers. this task always brings back memories, and a smile to my face. i relive the warm days when i wore certain things, and if i breathe in deeply i swear i can smell the sunshine right in the fabric. i find clothes in these tubs that i forgot i had, and laugh in spite of the granny nightgowns the skim the floor that i am embarrassed to own yet still wear in the privacy of my own home, these being placed right next to the almost skanky chemises and tank tops also seen solely by my sheets, pillows and rabbits.

3. I put the dresses away. The 4 dresses that have brought me to where I am. They include:

a. The teal polka-dot sundress from our 8th grade 'formal' end-of-the-year dresss, the dance where only the skanks grinded in the middle of the gym and everyone else conferenced in exclusive circles with their friends or went downtown to walk around in their dressy clothing. The dress that matched my best friend's contrasting red one, the ones we bought together that i never paid back the $11 i borrowed from her to cover the expense. I wonder if she remembers. I forgot. maybe I should pay that back. mehh. the dress that did not flatter my body; instead, me being pregnant was the new rumor started at the dance commemorating our class almost being freshman. go us. the dress that was worn with silver glittered flats and the taboo of lingerie to not be spoken of underneath. the garments purchased by a group of friends who later almost felt to guilty to don them, but did anyway and felt rebellious and almost free. boy, we were lame.
b. The freshman homecoming dress. the dress borrowed from Clare upon the decision to go to homecoming approximately 7 hours before the dance was slated to begin. the dress that was her already-worn-in rehersal dinner dress from a pre-wedding fete occuring 2 years earlier. the dress has since stayed in my possession, solely from the previous owner's lack of need or want for it. some of the hot pink ribbon frayed, it was a simple black dress brightly trimmed with this satin ribbon. the dress was cut in a draped fashion and hit above my knees, surely too short, but not in a skanky way, thus making my legs appear to me outrageously long and odd. but what did i care? i was a freshman going to homecoming with her best friend. the dress, or possibly the girl in it, attracted a stranger that i came to know better in the months following the night's activities, his name being Nathan, and his stature being a senior. i was hooked. shoving my nose into the fabric and inhaling deeply, i can smell his cologne mixed with my perfume from that night, and it brings back wonderful memories that also sadden me, knowing i may never be that close to him again.
c. The Greek-goddess influced dress that made me a spectacle at the prom, and gave my date a chance to prove his manliness. the floor length Greecian purple and lavender gown with a sweetheart bodice and beautiful ribboning. worn with the same $8 shoes from homecoming, the dress had sat in my closet since january, purchased on closeout sale at a department store, hoping to be chosen from the many other dresses collecting there, praying that being prepared would lead to a lucky chance to attend an event almost unheard of for a freshman. the debonoir gown matched well with the royal purple vest on the lucky boy, and the two proved to be a sight, compared to david and goliath. the dress showed the girl's muscular back, toned shoulders, propped-up bustline and enhanced her height. standing in the heels, she proved to be 6 foot exact, and felt even taller. she felt like a princess, or even queen of the world, and debated sleeping in the dress after all was said and done. although she didnt, the months following it's debut were filled with bona-fide trying-ons and modeling for the jealous walls of the empty house.
d. The much talked about and uncopied bright yellow dress from homecoming this past year. The dress that some said was too short, too low cut, too skanky for that girl. the dress that some said fit the girl's skankiness. the dress with a color unmatched at the dance. the sunshine hue made her marching band-and-countless hours of sunbathing-tan skin glisten. the color alone received compliments, ranging from how unique to how jealous they were for not thinking of yellow. another greecian dress, the girl couldn't help herself. the goddess look was in her favor again. new heels this time, silver-colored, matched the brooch adorning the front of the dress that contained an earring to replace a fallen-out rhinestone. with the dress came the date. a senior from another school, he was also talked about by everyone for weeks after. tall, dark and handsome, the girls wondered how she, pretty, but not a looker; tall, but too much; popular, but not enough; outgoing, but very shy, had obtained this god. the guys wondered why the guy had picked her, she was prude and wouldn't let him more than kiss her, when he could have scored a home run with a much prettier and more popular girl. these past two sentences still boggle me, but i dont waste time pondering them. the two attendants had talked and hung out all summer, but never officially became devoted to each other at the boy's wishes. the girl put up with it. the dress found her in the arms of the boy she was almost certain she was falling in love with after the dance. this would be the last time the girl, or the dress, would be in his arms. the day after, the boy had no desire to speak to her, and wanted nothing to do with her. within a short deal of days, he became commited to one of her close friends. the dress that had hung prominently in her view all summer long, that was tanned and worked out for, was put to the absolute back of the closet in an attempt to rid the memories.

As I carefully folded these seemingly unimportant garments, tears filled my eyes and blurred my vision. big fat drops of sadness, joy, loneliness, anger, guilt and grief spilled from the corners of grey eyes and raced down my cheeks. i quickly wiped my mascara-bleeding eyes for fear of blemishing these pieces of history. i could not understand why a simple act of folding 4 dresses and putting them away for safe keeping could bring me to tears. as i folded the sheet over the dresses, a sigh of fullness and emptiness was released from within me. the sheet itself, a precious beauty and the beast linen missing its partner, lost somewhere during my childhood, was encasing these dresses that saw four nights of fun that i could not trade for anything. four nights that i felt as if i could do anything, four nights i felt truly beautiful and almost loved, four nights i spent in the arms of others, four nights of cliche that i enjoyed guiltlessly.

and I wonder to myself, how can these cheaply-made gowns make one feel so beautiful, when i own sevenfold the amount of clothes equalling the expense, perfect fit and colors of these dresses? how can i let myself feel that high on life every day? why can i not appreciate being with those i care for without standing on burning feet and hearing blasted rap? why do i curse any other cliche?

the answer is all within the mind. we are manipulated by media to believe that we are only worthy on these special occasions on which we feel invincible.

Damn you, media.