Hehe... I was a candystriper.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Land of Make Believe
Why is it that I can say anything I want, practically do anything I want when it comes to my "crush" but not anyone else? I have always said that he would be my ideal fling. The one man you had to have an affair with, the kind they write smutty novels about.
Maybe when you've experienced your fantasy, it makes you ready for something real. The real turn on is the ability to make something once thought impossible, happen. How do you make real happen? But see, this is where I am clueless. I deal much better in fantasies and make believe and impossibilities than anything tangible.
How do I let someone know I am interested in them? What if they don't feel the same? What if they think you're still in love with someone else? What if they're no good with subtleties and you're no good with patience?
I think I'll become a nun.
Maybe when you've experienced your fantasy, it makes you ready for something real. The real turn on is the ability to make something once thought impossible, happen. How do you make real happen? But see, this is where I am clueless. I deal much better in fantasies and make believe and impossibilities than anything tangible.
How do I let someone know I am interested in them? What if they don't feel the same? What if they think you're still in love with someone else? What if they're no good with subtleties and you're no good with patience?
I think I'll become a nun.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
April 2, 1980
I don't have many memories of my grandfather. He was my only living grandparent but when I was 8, he went into a nursing home. I stopped visiting him when I was 10 because it was too hard to see him. He had Alzheimer's. He passed away when I was 16.
Today, I spent the day going through old photos with my mom. It's an ongoing project that started when I made my mom a family scrapbook for Christmas. I was convinced that there were no photos of me when I was a baby, they had been packed away in a box for nearly 31 years...
Now my mom had told me a story about my grandfather forgetting my birthday one year but I had no memories of it. Until today.
I was going through photos, putting them in chonological order to put into photo albums for my mom. I found a photo of my 5th birthday. I remembered it because it was when I got my first baseball glove. That's the only real thing I remembered about that birthday. There was a picture of me opening the glove and another of me with my cake - 5 candles, a normal chocolate birthday cake, with me and glove beside it.
My grandfather always got our cakes. It started with my older sisters. They were the really nice bakery ones with characters and themes. One year I had a Mickey Mouse one...
According to my mom, on my 5th birthday, I waited all day for him to come with my cake. But he didn't, and my parents didn't know what to do, so my Aunt picked one up on the way to our house with my cousins. I guess I didn't no anything was wrong, because I look really happy.
But as I continues looking through the pictures, there was another picture of me and a cake. This one was Snow White and said Happy 5th Birthday Marcia. My grandfather arrived with a few days later. I don't remember any of this, other than the glove and the Snow White characters residing on my shelf after that....
I kinda wonder if that has anything to do with my dislike of birthday cake. For as long as I can remember I have refused birthday cakes, only allowing ice cream cakes.
My favorite number is 4. It's been my favorite because for my 4th birthday my grandfather gave me a cute panda bear card. The card is long gone, but I've never forgotten it.
I've always felt cheated because I hardly knew my grandparents. All I have to do is see a picture of them and I spontaneously cry. Guess I got cheated out of a birthday cake too...
Today, I spent the day going through old photos with my mom. It's an ongoing project that started when I made my mom a family scrapbook for Christmas. I was convinced that there were no photos of me when I was a baby, they had been packed away in a box for nearly 31 years...
Now my mom had told me a story about my grandfather forgetting my birthday one year but I had no memories of it. Until today.
I was going through photos, putting them in chonological order to put into photo albums for my mom. I found a photo of my 5th birthday. I remembered it because it was when I got my first baseball glove. That's the only real thing I remembered about that birthday. There was a picture of me opening the glove and another of me with my cake - 5 candles, a normal chocolate birthday cake, with me and glove beside it.
My grandfather always got our cakes. It started with my older sisters. They were the really nice bakery ones with characters and themes. One year I had a Mickey Mouse one...
According to my mom, on my 5th birthday, I waited all day for him to come with my cake. But he didn't, and my parents didn't know what to do, so my Aunt picked one up on the way to our house with my cousins. I guess I didn't no anything was wrong, because I look really happy.
But as I continues looking through the pictures, there was another picture of me and a cake. This one was Snow White and said Happy 5th Birthday Marcia. My grandfather arrived with a few days later. I don't remember any of this, other than the glove and the Snow White characters residing on my shelf after that....
I kinda wonder if that has anything to do with my dislike of birthday cake. For as long as I can remember I have refused birthday cakes, only allowing ice cream cakes.
My favorite number is 4. It's been my favorite because for my 4th birthday my grandfather gave me a cute panda bear card. The card is long gone, but I've never forgotten it.
I've always felt cheated because I hardly knew my grandparents. All I have to do is see a picture of them and I spontaneously cry. Guess I got cheated out of a birthday cake too...
Saturday, February 18, 2006
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