My life is complete…
I made a difference in someones life.
“My father once told me, ‘I think you were born either 500 years too early, or 500 years too late. I’m just not sure which.’”
In my mind, I’ve always thought of myself as the protagonist in some imaginary book. It is imaginary no longer.
Ukele, Great opening! Cheese is always a conversationaly starter at my house.
Where the hell is EVE?
Am I missing any other SD hack out there who actually makes mula off their writing?
From the moment I was brought home from the hospital, my survival depended on my trusting no one. I learned this when I was two days old, when my brother pretended to affectionately hug me and cut off my air supply.
He called me Ishmael. I punched his lights out and poured myself another drink.
I have no memories of my birth, but don’t need them because the strong-willed, outspoken women of my family supplied the necessary information. We will draw a tactful curtain over the 9 months of nausea, fainting and misery that proceeded my birth. Actually mother didn’t remember my birth either, having firmly instructed her doctor to knock her out and not wake her until it was over. She was awake enough to hear my paternal grandmother look at my infant, squalling self and saying, “My God, Harriet, is that the best you could do?!”
(This is nonfiction. No wonder I turned out to be an eccentric, misanthropic twit.)
Veb
When my parents brought me home from the hospital, my sister recalls saying “But I wanted a pony!”
Dammit, Snark! You stole mine!!
I was born June 1, 1973 at 10:30 am in Lincoln, Nebraska. Being as I was very young at the time, that’s really all I can remember about it. When I was 2 years old, I moved to St Louis, Missouri since I had done eveything there was to do in Nebraska and Lincoln has no baseball team. . .