We Made A List
When I was very young, I liked girls. My parents used to tell me the story of being at a carnival at two years old or so and I ran up to another little girl named Sarah and pulled down my diaper. Granted, taking off my diaper was entirely common for me, so common, in fact, that my parents used to put duct tape all the way around it so I couldn’t undo the adhesive straps.
In kindergarten I made friends with one, little blonde girl. Usually when I tell the story of my first crush, it’s about another little, blonde girl that I met in second grade and how I used to take odd detours around the class room to throw away scraps of paper just so I could walk by her desk and smell her.
When I think back about it now, the other girl—the one I met in kindergarten—was probably my true first crush. And we started making a list of all the things we had in common. It was long. There were hundreds of items. Foods, TV shows, habits, likes, dislikes. When you’re that age, it’s difficult to not have a lot in common. Still, we managed to find hundreds and hundreds of things we shared.
And the only one I can remember is that we both really like Charlie Brown and Snoopy.
First Drink, Last
This is not my first drink,
it won’t be my last,
nor will I sober in spite of ghosts from my past.
A drop at the bottom of a glass miles deep
smiles back up the edge of the cup,
sending electric magnetic waves down my spine
and happiness is an R2-D2 mouse hat.