When I was 8 a girl on the playground called me “nigger lips”. I was sad about that.
Silver Lining: Big boys like big lips. Who knew?
When I was 9 I stole a pretty, polished rock from a school display and my mother, who taught in my school, and totally knew I did not “find it on the way home underneath a fern on the side of the driveway, where there was also, hiding, a cute little baby rabbit that I left there because I know it is wrong to take baby animals away from their moms” made me take it back and issue a formal apology. That made me embarrassed and sad.
Silver Lining: When I was 10 I stole a candy bar from Kenny’s store but I felt so guilty I put it back so I learned a valuable lesson (I did not issue an apology, however, so some of the lesson may have been lost)
When I was 12 my best (only) friend dropped me like a hot potato to become part of the popular crowd and I was all like, I have no friends, and that made me sad.
Silver Lining: So my Mom said carry a book with you and you will always look like it doesn’t bother you that no one is sitting with you and now I am an excellent reader. (is that still sad?)
When I was 10 (I forgot one) I wanted to be an Indian more than anything. A Boy Indian. But I couldn’t be because I was an evil white child whose ancestors stole land and were mean to the awesome Indians. And that made me sad.
Silver Lining: But then I grew up and met a real Indian and she offered to adopt me into her tribe. She couldn’t make me a boy but that’s okay because now it is the 21rst century and if I want I can still act like a boy. Except the whole writing my name in pee in the snow thing. I’ll have to give that fantasy up.
RELEVANT NOTE: I’ve pretty much blocked out the year I was 13.
When I was 14, I was in the school auditorium practicing my piece for some recital, and RC, a senior who also played the trumpet and who I very much admired said afterwards, surrounded by her posse, “Hey, you are very good”, and I said, “Thank you” and walked away but then turned back and said, “So are you”, which was really nice, I thought, but then K, one of her posse, said, “See, I told you she was weird”. And K did not even know me. And that made me sad.
Silver lining: 1.) RC said, “oh, I think she’s cute” (which is a mixed silver lining because cute is not what I wanted to be at 14 but still it was nice of her) and 2.) two years later I was leaving an outdoor concert with my (older, hot) boyfriend in his really cool black convertible and we passed her and her friend walking down the dirt road. I heard her say to her friend, “Was that Chicken with TS?” Oh yes it was, K. Yes it was. This story also has a moral for young Chicks: If you are nice and polite (and have big lips, maybe) hot, older boys with convertibles will want to date you but if you are bitter and mean, you’ll wind up walking down a dirt road. Ha! So there.
And that’s enough sad stories and meaningful reflection for one night.
Chicken, over and out.