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Autobiography

I spent eight days in the hospital when I was born

and four when I gave birth.

I refused to drink a date shake in Dateland, CA.

I’ve found maggots in trash bins on two occasions.

I wore more dark lipstick the year I was sixteen than I have in all my twenties.

I was named for the year I was born: 1985 —

named for strippers, flowers, and a light shade of purple.

I twisted cones for six months at a Dairy Queen,

answered retail phones on Black Friday, all out of Tickle Me Elmo,

stapled thousands of copies by hand,

spilled iced tea in customers’ laps, and

sold my childhood toys at a fraction of the cost.

I’ve driven from coast to coast six times,

usually riding in between siblings.

I’ve lost a championship game for my team.

I’ve felt anxious after Googling symptoms.

I fear the opinions of the elderly,

the death of my teacher-issued laptop,

the passage of time.

I fear distance.

When I teach, I’m on stage —

I’m not a fan of being on stage

(a preference I formed in the year 2000).

My students believe that

“girls should act like girls”,

it’s alright to lie (sometimes),

and that in the end,

death always wins.

It is my goal

to change their minds.

I got married too early

and too fast,

and I liked it.

It took us three months to get engaged

and five years to have a baby.

My side of the bed is always warmer.

I once had a crush on a communist.

I once ate a full cup of horseradish on a dare.

I act like a Scorpio, but like to think I am more compassionate

than astrology has labeled me.

My mother still makes an Easter basket for me,

and I still get this excited.

Inspired by Mary Ann Larson’s “Random Autobiography”

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3 thoughts on “Autobiography”

  1. I can’t believe you still have this picture. I made that basket for you and one for Michelle when you spent a week with me at Easter time. We went for pictures in pretty lavender dresses and had so much fun. Glad your Mom is still keeping up her end, although I don’t know how she is doing it. Love you, Aunt Paula

  2. I remember that Easter! You always got us the coolest gifts. I loved spending the night and playing Paige’s Sega, playing in the tree house, and eating Uncle Bill’s cinnamon rolls. We were so spoiled! Love you!! xoxo

  3. Despite being "sort of a dick," you're an oddly eeranding dick. Or, maybe I'm simply retarded. Possibly both. I do know what happens in Vegas, doesn't have to stay in Vegas. But, if you're truly going for honesty, you've chosen quite the town. Best of luck Paul!

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