Vodka-induced remembrances.
10:53 p.m.
For some odd reason, a childhood memory came back to me when I was in the shower this morning, of how I walked to and from elementary school and told myself a continuing story to pass the time. It had magic in it, and a handsome prince, and I can�t remember what else. I hadn�t thought of that for years. Grades three to six were torture for me. My mother went back to work fulltime when my brother started junior high, and it wasn�t worth it for her to hire a woman to come in daily to give lunch to one kid, so I was transferred over to the parochial school because I wouldn�t have to come home at noon and because they would allow me to skip grade two. The cliques were already formed when I arrived, and over the years the class got smaller and smaller due to attrition. Hence, by grade six there were only 14 students, five girls and nine boys.
I was thrown together with Gl�ria Beck, a chubby, curly-headed girl with a turned-up nose who bore a remarkable resemblance to a pig. We were both outcast, reviled, and found that there was safety in collusion, even though I don�t think we really liked each other. The other kids in the class were extremely cruel. To this day I still do not know why they hated me so much. I was a generally quiet, well-behaved and studious child, my teachers liked me, but somehow just by existing I was fair game for these nasty children of nouveau riche immigrant parents. That is probably why I developed a love for escapist literature--science fiction and fantasy--and why I made up magical adventures for myself as I walked to and fro.
Between rain storms (on and off all day), I moved my new hummingbird feeder from the front to the back yard, next to the bee balm, where we have actually sighted hummingbirds. They are so beautiful, a flash of irridescent green, darting so quickly or hovering almost motionless above the red flowers. They are fierce too, chasing birds much larger than themselves away from nesting areas.
Sorry for the disjointedness of this entry. I had a vodka cooler earlier and, even though it has more or less worn off, I�m still feeling a little disoriented. Tomorrow is another day and another entry.
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