Yakety Yak Blah Blah Blah Blah

Yakety Yak Blah Blah Blah Blah


I Yam What I Yam (02 February 2007 - 6:41 p.m.)

Got this from Mary who got it from Jenn who got it from Owlhaven, the original source. It is a writing prompt very similar to the I Am From exercise.

I am the baby born in wedlock (but not conceived under the same conditions) to the daughter of a Polish father who left his Czechoslovakian wife and their six children to fend for themselves. I am the baby born to the son of an immigrant Italian tailor and a woman whose bruised eyes were not the result of abuse, but of perpetual dark shadows. I am the infant who was swaddled in damp, cool sheets when her temperature spiked dangerously high and her tiny body went rigid.
I am the child who played “statues”and “Mother, May I?” and put on puppet shows from her bedroom window for her best friend, Laurie, who lived next door.
I am the child who loved anchovies and atomic fire balls, and her Nana. Who stored handmade Creepy Crawlers in her treasure box, and who dreamed of defeating giants by invoking the name "Grandpa." I am the child who never thought she would grow up to suffer so much heartache and loss.
I am the teenager who pocketed the hands and feet of a frog after a dissecting lesson in biology class, and then dropped them in the holy water font at church.
Who wore blue jeans and construction boots and loved music and hated her body.
Who used her thumb far too frequently as a means of transportation, and then danced the night away in nightclubs she was too young to patronize.
Who dreamed of being as thin and pretty as Emmy, and knew she would always be second best.
I am the woman who loved living in her own apartment, being responsible for and answering to no one but herself.
Who loves her big family and the memory of the brother who was cut down in his prime, and the gentle husband who makes her feel beautiful and cherished.
I am the mother who loves the daughters who have brought both darkness and light into her life, and goes crazy if she has to clean up yet another of their fine messes (literal or figurative),
and whose moments of perfect bliss take place when sleep comes to rescue her from the trials of a day spent battling pain.
I am the Library assistant/Computer Lab supervisor who loves being there for students who confide their heartbreaking secrets to her, and avoids spirit-sucking co-workers, and who wishes the administrators would realize that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.
I am the woman who picks at her cuticles until they bleed, and sees the glass as half empty, and is making a conscious effort to get back her joie de vivre.
I am the person who prides herself on being a good listener, and then wonders why she can’t open up more when it’s her turn to share deeply personal thoughts.
I am the woman who still loves Archie, and Betty, but never Veronica.
Who still longs to learn to love herself.
I am the person who dreams of Tuscany, and diving for pearls in the Gulf of Mannar. I am the person who is grateful for friendship and kindness and laughter, and who hopes there is an afterlife so she can be reunited with the brother she misses so profoundly.

Song of the Day: I Am by Bon Jovi

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