*taps on microphone* Hello?....Is anyone there?....
Wow. I haven't updated this blog in over 17 months. Even then, I only did so sparingly.
I forget where exactly I heard it, on some TV/movie, but someone talked about having a blog, and their friend said, "What is it, 2002?" This made me laugh because, A) I never even log into this blog let along write/update it and B) I started a blog way after it was popular. Please don't blame me on my tardiness to the blog party. I live in the Midwest, which is notorious for getting into trends way past their expiration date.
I blame Facebook/Twitter for killing the blog. Why go into a long tirade about your thoughts and/or life when you can capture it in 140 characters of less? Part of me thinks it is the dumbing down of human existence. On the other hand I also think it forces individuals to be more thoughtful/witty/intelligent in shorter form.
Well, I'm fighting against the machine/the man/the whatever you want to call it. I'm going to make myself write down my thoughts on this, my old friend, peoplegoingtoheaven.blogspot.com. It will help me freshen up my writing skills, which I have found have been rapidly going downhill over the years. It will also help me dump the random thoughts I have running around in my head at all times of the day that I want to share with others (and by sharing with others, I mean my Mom who is probably the only one reading this...Hi Mom!).
Now on to the random title of this entry. This is a memory of my childhood that I have been recently thinking about. I was about 3-4 years old. I lived in a house on Alexander Court in Sheboygan. In our neighborhood there were two boys that were around the same age as my sister and I. They both had the same name, which I cannot recall right now (Brian?). One of them was a blonde, the other was a brunette/ginger. They liked playing with my sister and I, we liked playing with them. I remember in the mornings how they would wait for us outside of our house to come and play, while my sister and I sat peaking out of the window, in our underwear waiting for our Mom to get our clothes ready.
Anyway, I completely forget the circumstances that lead up to the situation but I do remember that the brunette/ginger one bit me on my back. Enough so that it left a welt on my back. Those that know me and my sensitive skin, it doesn't take much to leave marks on my body. Regardless, it was pretty traumatic in my little girl mind. I don't even recall how the situation was handled by my parents or by his parents. I don't think that my sister and I hung out with him much after that, but that might have been due to my family moving to another neighborhood, for unrelated reasons, shortly afterward.
Part of me thinks that my Mom probably explained to me that he only did that to me because he liked me and he didn't know how to deal with it, because that seems like something my Mom would do. Also, that explanation makes the most sense: People like to bite things they like! If I see an adorable baby with chubby cheeks, the first thing that runs through my mind is, "I want to bite those cheeks!"
Wait...you mean everyone doesn't have those thoughts? I blame the brunette/ginger "Brian" for ruining my appropriate reactions to things that I like. So to any future men that I might find attractive, if I bite you, don't worry! It is only because I like you so much!
No comments:
Post a Comment