A snapshot from my childhood
Innocence
I looove finding things in my closet. I get to relive my early childhood years, writing poems about beer with my mother.
I clearly remember composing this masterpiece, but I couldn’t have been older than 7 or 8. Someone had to tell me which brand was superior. And help me type it up. Mom had no objection.
She was also always happy to play with me whenever I loaded my Barbies into their pink Corvette for a fatal car accident. We’d dress them up for a night on the town before we sent their vehicle flying down the long hallway and into the wall, killing everyone instantly. If I remember correctly the crashes were way more spectacular when she pushed the car…limbs getting severed and whatnot.
She let me have a bone collection and listen to Nine Inch Nails. To this day she sends me notes like this. She bought me tear gas for Christmas!
So what if that was the last time I graduated from anything?
HA! I love your mom (and her note to you that accompanied the “gentlemen.”) And I think I love your blog — must go off to read some Japan stuff.
Aaaand now I’m hungry for sashimi horse.
Ha—I used to take my Barbies in their camper into the “woods” (a pine tree) in our backyard and play like they were getting mauled by wild animals. I’d use my mom’s makeup to make claw scratches on them. What *is* the bloodlust girls feel toward their dolls? I’m sure Judith Butler or someone has written on it.
Do you remember when we left a Ken doll outside with red M&M’s on top of him so when they melted it looked like blood?