The Unpretty Scavenger The specs I don't wear often enough.  Oh, I'm in fine form today!  Never felt so good.  I spent a  nice chunk of the morning scavenging, an activity that I have grown to enjoy, though it was born of necessity.  Today's take: one large braided rug, slightly damp but otherwise in fine condition; one molded plastic high chair, minus tray and restraining strap (just fine for a two-and-a-half-year-old at the table); a black lacquered coffee table; a wooden coffee table minus glass top; four sturdy dining chairs with minor upholstery damage; some small concrete slabs and wooden edging pieces that the spouse can use in his lawn work.  Not the biggest take, but certainly decent for a Friday morning.  Not for the first time, it occurred to me that I should pick up everything of any use that I find and sell the bits I don't need.  Since my only overhead would be gas and storage, most of whatever price I placed would be profit.  Hey, a white chick version of Lamont Sanford.     Though my hair is unwashed and therefore kinda stringy, I feel pretty good about how I look today.  Which is pretty damn funny considering just how I do look.  My black jeans and black cloth jacket, both faded actually to greyness, are smeared with mud from hefting secondhand wooden posts about and placing them as a barrier between the woods and the yard.  Covering my hair is a white cap left over from a motorcycle race the hubby did some volunteer work for; it says "Programs" across my forehead.  For some reason I feel confident, though knowing I'm not pretty.     Ever since I discovered my feelings of attraction towards women, it's been a source of anxiety to me that I am not a beautiful person, physically.  It has made me self-conscious in the extreme.  It seems loveliness should be a prerequisite to attracting women, right?  Yeah, I know, slow to learn some things.     Today I remind myself that I have in the past fallen for men who are not that physically appealing, because I saw beneath the surface to the person within.  And guys don't seem too held up by my lack of beauty.  So why should I expect other women would never do the same when it comes to me?  I'm lovable, right?  I'm strong and smart and sometimes funny.  Right?  Hehehe.  So who needs a lovely face?     So, today I am not sweet and pretty, but I am strong and confident, zipping through neighborhoods and swinging around in cul-de-sacs, the music up full blast, singing with the radio, leaping out to examine the curbside treasures, loading up what I can use and leaving behind the rest.  I feel good. -- Spring  link o' the day: This is Zack