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vanillafluffyMom and I visited Staten Island over the summer...went to Lake George for a few days...got "Forbidden Flowers" by Nancy Friday, a book that proved very influential in shaping my sexuality.
Mom told me, with more drama than was really needed, that her cancer was back and they were going to give her chemo.
I actually made friends that year. There was a guy in my art class that I got chummy with, and it turned out that Agnes, who sat next to me in American History also had the locker beside mine, and we walked home together (only a few blocks away, as it turned out). She and her sis Vonne became friends; it was Vonne who got me into my next obsession: Doc Savage*.
(Although I like history in general, the instructor was a boring old geezer. The whole year, I never once brought the book to class, didn't do any of the assignments, but had a solid 'B' average thanks to the weekly tests.)
Agnes and Vonne were originally from Kentucky, and they were unfamiliar with things I took for granted, such as when I lamented that you couldn't find bagels around here (This was before frozen bagels debuted.)---and they had no idea what bagels were. "They're like...a donut made of bread." Puzzled looks. Bagels...I missed bagels, and cannolis, and real delicatessens, especially Norwegian delis with nokkelost (my favorite cheese in the whole world). There was ONE Chinese restuarant at the time, which closed down a few months after we got here.
Adventure, my ass! It was the armpit of American, I reckoned, and fantasized about running away to my cousin's in California.
Mom's hair fell out. She wore a wig. She had a crisis in May or June, and after dad took her to the hospital, I cleaned up the blood and cried, sure I'd never see her again. She spent the following summer (the Bicentennial summer of 1976) sleeping in a recliner, getting fixated about religion and ever-weaker.
I was about to turn 16, but for the life of me, I can't remember anything about that birthday. No party, nothing special....
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* Doc Savage was a pulp fiction series from the 1930s that was reprinted in paperback. Vonne was into it and loaned them to me, and I got sucked in. Soon I was combing used bookstores and flea markets for my own copies, and a couple years later, when Philip Jose Farmer wrote his mock-bio, "Doc Savage: His Apocalyptic Life", I snatched it up. No, I never did write fanfic for it.
.
Mom told me, with more drama than was really needed, that her cancer was back and they were going to give her chemo.
I actually made friends that year. There was a guy in my art class that I got chummy with, and it turned out that Agnes, who sat next to me in American History also had the locker beside mine, and we walked home together (only a few blocks away, as it turned out). She and her sis Vonne became friends; it was Vonne who got me into my next obsession: Doc Savage*.
(Although I like history in general, the instructor was a boring old geezer. The whole year, I never once brought the book to class, didn't do any of the assignments, but had a solid 'B' average thanks to the weekly tests.)
Agnes and Vonne were originally from Kentucky, and they were unfamiliar with things I took for granted, such as when I lamented that you couldn't find bagels around here (This was before frozen bagels debuted.)---and they had no idea what bagels were. "They're like...a donut made of bread." Puzzled looks. Bagels...I missed bagels, and cannolis, and real delicatessens, especially Norwegian delis with nokkelost (my favorite cheese in the whole world). There was ONE Chinese restuarant at the time, which closed down a few months after we got here.
Adventure, my ass! It was the armpit of American, I reckoned, and fantasized about running away to my cousin's in California.
Mom's hair fell out. She wore a wig. She had a crisis in May or June, and after dad took her to the hospital, I cleaned up the blood and cried, sure I'd never see her again. She spent the following summer (the Bicentennial summer of 1976) sleeping in a recliner, getting fixated about religion and ever-weaker.
I was about to turn 16, but for the life of me, I can't remember anything about that birthday. No party, nothing special....
============================
* Doc Savage was a pulp fiction series from the 1930s that was reprinted in paperback. Vonne was into it and loaned them to me, and I got sucked in. Soon I was combing used bookstores and flea markets for my own copies, and a couple years later, when Philip Jose Farmer wrote his mock-bio, "Doc Savage: His Apocalyptic Life", I snatched it up. No, I never did write fanfic for it.
.
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(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-05 04:02 pm (UTC)My folks forgot my 16th birthday. Seriously. I never made a fuss about wanting things and didn't mention it was coming up, so it completely slipped their minds. Dad did take us out to dinner a few days later, so that was nice.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-05 06:10 pm (UTC)Sixteen...wasjust not a great year.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-05 05:41 pm (UTC)Sorry about your birthday. My sister's birthday and my birthday are very close, so we always had to share it, even though we are 6 years apart. It totally sucked every year, It's no wonder my son is an only child!
XO
Donna
(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-05 06:15 pm (UTC)My mother stood no chance of forgetting my birthday---there were about six birthdays in the extended family in the first two weeks of September...guess all those Christmas and New Year's parties bore fruit! (My BFFs birthday is right after Christmas, and her pet peeves are "combination" presents, and birthday gifts in christmas wrap!