First of all, I'm sure I'm not the first to say that the word "blog" leaves an unsatisfying feeling in my mouth. It's not a word that sounds graceful.
Anyway, since opening this site, I've been doing all of this weird "remembering" of stuff. I'm not sure why, and, believe me, I AM a junior psychologist who spends hours trying to figure out all of life's questions, if they involve me.
Anyway, as I was driving home this afternoon, I was feeling really thirsty. The traffic was slow and I suddenly "slipped into a dream." (Think Beatles...)
I remember that when I was 3 years old, my younger brother and I were sitting in the back seat of my mom's really cool '65 Malibu convertible. She'd bought the car after our dad was killed in a crash in their car, which was obviously totaled...my mom was only 21 when it happened and suddenly was a widow with 2 babies.
She used to drive really fast in the car. It was maroon with black vinyl interior...with absolutely no air conditioning. We lived in Oklahoma, so the car was hot when we got in. I'd burned the backs of my legs on the black vinyl, since mom left the top down and the 100 degree+ heat created a skillet to fry little legs.
I remember that I was really thirsty. I remember I told my mom and she ignored me. I repeated it and she said, "Too bad. We're not stopping. I'm flying right now." I remember sort of whimpering, as I was burned and hot and thirsty, and she suddenly said, "Alright, already! Here's your damn drink!" She pretended she had a cup in her hand and put the fake cup under the dials of the radio. She turned the knobs and made a "shhhshhhshhh" sound like water running from a tap. She reached back and tried to hand me the fake cup of water.
Man, she really was a bitch. I'm glad I don't have to talk with her much these days.
