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Byline: Laurie Drake
I didn't even know what they were called when I first noticed them. I was in the shower, back in the tenth grade, when I looked down and saw these little squiggly red things on my breasts and hips. My stretch marks, or striae distensae in medical terms, seemed to appear overnight, the result of a sudden weight gain triggered by teenage angst I self-medicated with ice cream. (This was before Prozac.) About fifteen pounds later (or was it 20? At some point I stopped getting on the scale), I climbed out of it and shed the weight. Though I can barely remember the source of my sorrow-was it a post-prom breakup with John Penfield or Billy ...