Five things I miss about my childhood:
1) No debt/financial obligation to my name, therefore more time and 'freedom' (HAH) to do things.
2) NES. I came home one day when I was in Grade 1 to find my parents had bought me an NES with one game to start off - Mario Bros w/Duck Hunt. One of these days, I'm going to find me an NES with that game and I'm going to love it to death all over again.
3) My dog, Rocky. I loved that dog more than I loved my parents, with good cause. He was a fucking tank of a dog, and I was the only one who loved him. My mum wrote me a letter once and mentioned Rocky had died of arthritis. It was the worst afternoon, ever. I cried like a bitch.
4) Kristina, my bestest forever friend, bridesmaid at my wedding, and unofficial Godmother to Charlotte. I hated her before I met her. I met her, I fell in love with her like you fall in love with leprous hoboes that smell like cheap goon, piss, pubes, and vinegar. I will love her until the day I die. I love you, Tino.
5) My sister, A. Biologically my cousin, I picked on her a lot more than I should've, taking my frustration and rejection from my parents out on her. When I got spotty and lost my hair, most of my friends bailed, and she stepped up from sister to best mate. It's sad that I only realised how awesome a bird she was in the last few months I spent at home. When I said goodbye and that I loved her, I meant it. I don't think she believed it at the time, and I don't know when I can tell her to her face again.
Sorry they were more people than 'things,' but I don't remember my childhood very fondly.
Who do I nominate to do this meme:
I'm going to be a killjoy here and choose to keep it open to whoever wants to do it.
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Books are SO 19th century
1) Total number of books I've owned.
Christ. That's like asking me how many tassels I'd have on my own superhero leotard if I could make one - TOO MANY TO COUNT.
2) Last book I bought.
I bought two in one purchase - Anthony Kiedis' 'Scar Tissue' and Irvine Welsh's 'Trainspotting.'
3) Last book I read.
I have the worst luck with buying multiple books, since I am so very easily distracted. I read one until it gets a bit too much and/or boring, then I switch over to another book, then to another book, then to another book, etc. The last book I actually finished and read cover-to-cover with as much fervour as a rabid monkey? Hmmmm... 'Retribution' by Jillian Hoffman.
4) Five books that mean a lot to me.
'On the Road' - Jack Kerouac
Ah. I don't have words to justify this novel. Brilliant.
'Monsters and Men' - DCI Bob McLachlan and Bob Long
BBC Producer Bob Long follows DCI Bob McLachlan of New Scotland Yard fame in the biggest paedophile ring sting in the history of the UK. A must-read for any parent who wants to know what is going on out there. Ignorance is bliss, but it's also fucking insane in this day and age.
'A Clockwork Orange' - Anthony Burgess
Once you figure out the dialogue, it's an amazing book. Definitely a notch better than the movie adaptation by Kubrick.
'Intimate Betrayal: Understanding and Responding to the Trauma of Acquaintance Rape' - Vernon Wiehe and Ann Richards
Pretty self-explanatory, no?
'The Freud/Jung Letters' - edited by William McGuire
I picked this up in the QLD State Library on one of my first idle days as a runaway -- I don't know how I picked it up, but I did. I only read a few chapters over a few days, which is such a shame. I really should find a copy of this to call my own. Reading it, it dawned on me that I had given up my education, but I still had my brains and a chance to make something of myself -- I left home because of a volatile environment, initially looking for a bit of room to breathe, but the company I was keeping up with wasn't the intellectual type, and it was driving me fucking insane -- I hated school but I craved getting me some o' dat knowledge. I'm working on it.
