Fashioning the Body: Versions of the Citizen, the Self, and the Subject

How I fell in love with my Prosthesis!  It was sometime in spring a few years ago, I was still recovering from the loss of my last automotive, when I got word that there was to be a new love in my life.  It was early evening on a Wednesday, as I waited downstairs from my lofting area; she pulled into the round-a-bout.  A smile so striking, it reminded me of my last three partners in crime.  She was sleek, a seductive cardinal red exterior with a dark black exotic interior.  At first I was hesitant.  “How could I replace my last one?”  He was deep mysterious navy blue, with every sort of bonus I could ever ask for, extremely out of my league and way too good for me, but he was mine.  Now to downgrade but attempt to upgrade would be challenging.  I hopped into the drivers seat, “Oh a stick, a manual, how I’ve missed that so!”  As I looked around the interior, this beauty was far less advance and a completely different model then my last blue ride, but she was red.  Like the woman in the red dress, I couldn’t resist.  She is my way of transportation.  Freedom is sweet!  She can take me places, faster, sweeter and further then anyway I could do myself.  The way her blue and orange lights gaze dimly at me as night falls, yeah we’re in love.  We have our problems, but it’s nothing new that I can’t fix.