being seven years old and standing in the front of my second-grade classroom. I am standing in a line of students that stretched across the front of the class, so I guess that it is for a spelling bee, or one of those types of classroom games. I am standing next to a boy- possibly Mark O'Dell, but not definitely- and when we all have to shift a little closer to each other for some reason, our bottoms briefly touch. I wonder if this means I'm going to have a baby. After contemplating this for a time, I decide that I'm safe, because I'm wearing clothes.
I remember
being around that same age and knowing that "gay" means "happy" and wondering why my two classmates are showing off and giggling at a vocabulary flashcard with that word on it.
I remember
walking with my mother to the limosine from the funeral service for my grandfather to go to the grave site. I am sad, and have been for some days, but I am also a small girl and this is the first time I remember seeing a limosine. I am sad, but curious. I ask my mother "Is this a stretch limo?" My mother doesn't hear me, but the driver does. She says "How touching." Sarcastically. I understand the sarcasm, but I don't understand what she means. I think that she is insulted that I don't know about limosines. Possibly a decade later, I remember the incident and finally realize that the woman was commenting on my apparent lack of grief.