Choose your poison. Main the title page. Me all you'd ever wanna know. Writing poems, essays, stories. Art things I've drawn. Music shows, bands, good lines. You interactive inanity. Links good stuff I wish I'd made.
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like my mother before me8/1/01Now I answer the phone and people say, "Laurie??" No, this isn't Laurie. This is her daughter. One moment. And they say I laugh just like her, and I find myself saying "ya know" and "six of one, half-dozen of the other" like she says it, and it's kinda scary. Sarah says when I buy stuff, I'm like my mother. I don't quite understand that one, but there it is. Like my mother. The time when I really see it is when I'm cooking. I'll be shaking salt into my hand, scraping batter out of the bottom of a bowl, testing chicken to see if it's cooked, and I'm like, "crap, I just did that exactly like Mom." It's not that I don't want to be like my mother. She's a good person, and I love her. Being like her isn't wrong. It's just that I want to be me, and test chicken like myself, rather than like my mother. I want to laugh at something without thinking that I am laughing just like Mom does. And then I wonder if I'm gonna have a little girl, and if she'll spend her childhood sitting in the kitchen watching me cook, and then one day she'll be making pancakes and think that she's making pancakes with those same movements that I make. Or do I really move like my grandmother, to whom my mother looked up. Did my mother pick up her mother's movements, and I picked them up from her? Crazy, crazy. |