Untitled

I am so miserable.

I failed French and refused to watch English subtitled French films for one whole year because I was still hurt. The professor was from Senegal and her French was not excellent by any means but she told me I had contemptible pronunciation. Shortly after she failed me, I ran into her in the hallway and witnessed as she tripped on the door holder and lost grip of the coffee and paperwork she held. I was the only one around so the courteous thing to do would have been to help her gather her belongings but she failed me and I had to walk away. It takes me one year to get over things.

I realize both my dress and slip are too short. I am holding the Imperial flag of the Romanov Dynasty.

In kindergarten I was the only one in my class who wore our mandatory crossover tie. As I stood in line, a girl asked me, “Why do you always wear this?” and yanked it off. I went home crying. I used to be so weak. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself that I could have walloped her.

In kindergarten I was the only one in my class who wore our mandatory crossover tie. As I stood in line, a girl asked me, “Why do you always wear this?” and yanked it off. I went home crying. I used to be so weak. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself that I could have walloped her.

I am going to move to Spain for one year and come back a changed woman. I met a girl from Gibraltar many years ago. I disappeared and we lost contact. It is always my fault.

I got approved for my first credit card. I am petrified.

For ten years, my mother made us believe we had two step siblings living elsewhere. She made us talk to them over the phone. My mother knew I was jealous of Arlette and yet she compared us all the time. She was cunning and stole my mother’s affection from me during my most important years. One day I did not want to bathe and my mother said, “Arlette would bathe.” She was an intruder who won everyone’s affection and I was Darth Vader. Some things never change but she is irrelevant now.

The neighbor is playing basketball with a friend by my bedroom window again. My mother poked her head out to whistle at the boys. The boys are in grade five.

Inappropriate.