Saturday, April 27, 2013

On my obsession

Just a find I thought to share with like-minded folks who (maybe one of you?) also have my weird interest in initiation rituals for "girls like me".  It also makes me marvel that it took by five years to find this reminiscence.  Make sure to read the comments, too.   A passageway of note:

We were each given a plastic spoon and told to line up. The senior girls walked by with opened jars of baby food, of which we had to sample each...By this time, it was about 5 in the morning.
And this is one of the more benign parts.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Cussing

Girls "like me" have a tentative relationship with swearing.  One one hand, it doesn't exactly make one seem innocent and helpless, and a girl my age shouldn't be using bad words anyway.  But...it can show how tough I am, what a bad-ss, and it could impress girls or boys I want to like me.  All this to say that I'm expected to swear, but not in front of Master.

I mean, of course he reads my emails and eavesdrops on me so he knows I do swear.  Yet I'm not supposed to do it in a place he can really hear me.  Dropping a mirror in my bedroom, I use the "f-word".  Dropping a mirror in the living room where Master is working, nuh-uh.

So like many other kids, I have a swear jar to break me out of the habit I've been told to get into.  The only issue: I can't use change from my "fake life".  Only quarters I've gotten buying bubble gum or cute bracelets...which means when I run out and it's a while until my next allowance, I have time to get nervous.  Where's Master going to send me this time to break a dollar because I said the s-word?

Monday, April 1, 2013

Tricked!

Imagine this...being put into a little Halloween costume (yes I know it's April).  You ring the doorbell, and your attempt to trick or treat is met with laughter and the door is slammed in your face.

Impotent yet angry, you start to write something on the victim's door in lipstick.   Concentrating on what you're doing, you jump a little when something clicks around your ankle.  Knowing what you're doing, the homeowner has chained you to their front railing until you clean the mess you made.

As people walk by, there you are scrubbing down the doorway, dressed in a costume...and that doesn't even consider the long walk back after you've earned your freedom.

Just a thought.