Monday, July 28, 2008

You Missed Me, Didn’t You?

Hi! Remember me? I know it’s been forever, and those of you who subscribed are going to get this email out of the blue, and be like: Who’s 2mara and why is she emailing me?

Seriously, I didn’t force you to subscribe… although I like it… a lot.

So the subscribing commitment you made, way back when, it’s still there. But never fear, I am not coming after you expecting some sort of “support” - you are not parentally linked to my blog (well you did subscribe and there are certain responsibilites.. blah blah blah), I believe you can just click something in that email and break these ties that bind us.


Since you’re here, why not read a clip of something I am working on; nothing too fancy. It’s just a story of a girl. Well a small part that makes up a girl we both know - some of us better than others.


An embarrassment; that is all I could call it. ID’d for spray paint.

At first I wasn’t sure why I was being ID’d. I really had to think it through, and when it finally occurred to me, I am sure I was red in the face. I had never considered huffing paint. Now don’t make me out as some “goody goody.” I had done my share of drugs and drank my share of fine liquor (if that is what you would call Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill), but please… sniffing paint? It made me think of first grade, and poor Gina Haney kicking back a bottle of Elmer’s, while the rest of us were getting married on a rained out recess. Pathetic. I will swear to this: Elmer’s glue HAS NEVER and WILL NEVER touch my lips.

I was eighteen, so the cashier sold me the green spray paint. I still couldn’t believe it, ID’d for paint, yet any crappy gas station in town was happy to sell me a pack of cigarettes without proof of age for the past 5 years… what a world we lived in.

The paint had a purpose, and no it wasn’t to write “Tomara was here” on a trashcan behind the high school. It was for my shoes. Of course they were shoes I had worn for the past few months to school, to work, out with friends, but as soon as the paint tongue kissed those faux leather beauties, they had only one remaining purpose in their sole-less (hehe) existence… graduation.


There’s a smidgen of it, but I wanted you to know I am still writing. I am just slow about posting these days. I have several latchkey kid tales I will be hopefully posting in the next couple of weeks, so please… if you can remember the relationship we use to have, all the good times, and you can forgive me for the abandonment thing; let’s make up.What do you say?
Pretty please.

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