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2003-08-15 || 11:34 a.m. || the mysterious number 12. || funny growing up things. the sudden call for privacy (creeping in like lavender preteen mist among a bed with a canopy, plastic horses, michael jackson and baryshnikov posters). standing tall and precarious against a wall in the name of posture under mum's halfhearted attempts at Raising Proper Girls. discovering the smell of sweat on your own body in a mall fitting room. the notion of menstruation all magical and mortifying, learned from neighbor girls and scholastic books and soft focus commercials aired during reruns of quincy. taping songs off the radio to listen to over and over in the dark at night. grape-scented hairspray. hating your mother. taking down the needlepoint of unicorns but placing it gently lovingly in the closet next to sticker books and a stuffed dog named applejack. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |