Sunday, March 02, 2008
A Big White Bed
I used to bury my dolls in the backyard for fun. I wasn't much for tucking them into make-believe beds or telling them stories. They got to be dead which I thought made them cooler than other dolls. My mother did not agree and told me if I didn't start digging them up, there would be no new dolls, and that it wasn't healthy to make so many little gravestones. Didn't I have anything better to do while she was at work? So I started telling my sister that her dolls were dead, gone, in the next world. This didn't win me any mental health awards either.
One of my friends used to tie her Barbies to the dining room table so that they could be rescued by a prince. "They're going to be waiting a long time," I said. "Let's leave their dumb asses there." Even as a most impractical child in many ways, I did have a pragmatic side that came out in the strangest of circumstances. It was around the time that Fleetwood Mac's Rumours came out and my thought was that we should put them all in a big white bed, like the band members in the Rolling Stone cover. The way I saw it was that they could do what they wanted. Everyone else I knew did, whether it was socially acceptable or not. I'd think about this as I stole sips of alcohol at parties from unsuspecting drunks who had turned their backs on their glasses a little too long. This is what a party meant to me in those days-- dressing up in some frilly ass dress that I hated and taking what you could when nobody was looking. So little changes over time.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Either you deal with what is the reality, or you can be sure that the reality is going to deal with you." Alex Haley
Drinking movie suggestion: Margot at the Wedding
Benedictions and Maledictions