July 10, 2013
With six sisters it is
hard to get away with anything like putting on several more pounds than I admit
to, claiming I do not dye the grey out of my hair, I have a great boyfriend
that everyone will fall in love with once they get to know him better, I will
stay put for more than eleven months this time, I will not adopt another cat, and
certainly not be part of yet another “risky” business.
Growing up in a house with
four bedrooms and two bathrooms didn’t seem like an issue at the time. None of
us were the type of girls that spent hours in front of the mirror, plastering
on base make-up, teasing our hair into submission nor attempt to blow dry it. We
didn’t fuss over clothes and shoes since none of the mirrors in the house
displayed our full length. I washed then braided my tresses in the morning and,
when I took it all out at night, it was still damp. I had enough hair for a
family of five, as did my siblings. We could have donated to “Locks of Love”
and committed to hundreds of wigs at a time, if it had been on our radar.
Somewhere along the line, all of our hairs were chopped-off. I had a one inch
cut that made me look like a tall boy with small breasts. I could not figure
out why I didn’t have a date unless I hounded him to death ‘cause I was really
love with him. I was finally kissed at the Junior Prom (went to two that year,
the second will take up an entire blog on its own) and it was really a
nightmare. Swore I would never succumb to another man’s lips for the rest of my
life. What on earth was everyone talking about? It was sloppy and I felt as
though I needed to special order a bib for the next go ‘round. Not certain I
even had a next time for trauma inevitably set-in and I blacked it out.
He wore a chocolate brown
leisure suit with a white shirt. I had on a hand-me-down slinky cool lime green
dress with a slit up the side to emphasize my slim figure. Have no clue where I
left that body but it’s probably in the shadow behind me somewhere. I was
pointy elbows and knees. Despite my light-weight frame, I had to be on the
bottom of the pyramid in High School since no one could stand being subjected
to my lethal weapons jabbing them in the back. We double-dated with another
couple, whom I cannot recall, for the life of me. Maybe someone will nudge my
memory banks at the Reunion this summer. Ah,
but then it will give the messy kisser a name, and he will be slightly
embarrassed. Oh well, sorry.
We didn’t fall in love and
get married nor even have a second date. At least not that I can recall. Sigh.
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