Monday, February 2, 2009

Queen for a Day

This morning when my 8-year old woke up she said "There's something I'm excited about today but I can't remember what it is?" and then she remembered her ears.

Yesterday, at approximately 16:55 PST, at the mall, Giselle became a girl with her ears pierced. It's like a Bat Mitzvah or something for shiksas, a true threshold into Big Girl World. Now she has little pink daisies on her soft little lobes where yesterday there were just felt tip pen marks. Oh, and the psychological marks will probably last a few years.

I don't remember when I walked through the threshold into Big Girl World. It might have been my first pair of platform shoes when I was eleven, which I wore with my rainbow toe socks and bell bottom jeans. This, after just one year previous, I was wearing homemade jeans. That's right, homemade. They had an elastic waist, no zipper, and patches of cartoon monsters on the knees. That was a humiliating time in my elementary school career, and also not coincidentally, my last year at that public elementary school.

One afternoon in third grade, Mrs. Gonzales asked all the kids "What are you going to be when you grow up?" A question I'm frequently asking people (young and old) because it reveals so much about their inner secret self and that's the thing I'm always trying to reveal. At age nine, I was so shy that I had no friends, didn't play at recess, and if you were to ask anyone in the classroom what my name was they wouldn't know. There were the popular kids, and the despised kids, but I fell into my own category ... invisible.

Mrs. Gonzales went around the room and extracted an answer from each student. They gave the same predictable answers over and over again: Fireman, nurse, teacher, mommy, veterinarian, blah, blah, blah. But I had a secret life that I led in television land. That little 24" box with antenna on top held all my dreams in it. I wanted to be a Brady. I wanted to live in the Addams Family house. And I loved watching roller derby, the Bay City Bombers to be exact.

I was in the last row (that's where the quiet kids are positioned because the teachers don't have to tell them to shut-up all the time) so I was one of the last kids to be called on. My hair was long, straight, and dirty. It it hung in my face as a shield against the harsh earthlings who were able to destroy me with a single word "hi." I had never raised my hand in my life, even if I was about to pee my pants. When Mrs. Gonzales called on me I was not as terrified as usual because I had already given this question great consideration and knew my answer was right and perfect.

I quietly said "I want to be a roller derby queen." A hush fell over the classroom and then hands started shooting up like a Courtney Love. "Me too!!" "Me too!!" "I want to change mine, I want to be a roller derby queen too!!" And for the first time and the only time at Fairmede Elementary School, I was cool.

Sadly, I did not pursue this dream and, in fact, now I'm scared to death of skating because I'll surely break both my wrists like a lady I used to work with, and that's all I need. But look, I did finally become a queen... the Blogger Queen.


  1. Great answer! I have no doubt that you would have made a fantastic Roller Derby Queen.

    I wanted to be a semi truck driver. I have no idea where that came from. I think I wanted to honk the horn or something cool like that. I never pursued that dream, but my dad did take me to a semi truck sales lot. The salesman let me honk the horn. Dream was somewhat met, and I moved on!

  2. I am a roller derby queen with the bay city Bombers! THANKS!

  3. Great post! Popped right outta that shell for a moment to announce "Roller derby queen!" didn't ya'? Did you make any friends after that since you obviously had the coolest answer?

    I wanted to be an actress. Yikes!

  4. I've never been to a roller derby, but man did I love Jim Croce's song on my dad's 8-track when I was growing up. I would be a terrible roller derby queen: skinny, weak, passive. Are there any roller derby clowns, like at the rodeo? Maybe we could distract the most aggressive queen and then jump in a barrel to hide.

  5. Summer - what a great dad! Lucky.

    Roller Derby Queen - maybe some of us will come and see you sometime. We all love a good fight every once in a while. But how do I know you're not just a poser?

    Akilah - No. No friends until I went to private school for hippies. Then I found out what life was all about. Thank for visiting again!

    Anonymous - Skinny, weak, and passive ... Hotcha cha!!

  6. Roller Derby Queen, what a great dream!! Tracy and I were skating a few months ago when I was approached by a women who asked if i would like to join thier roller derby team. I was very flatttered and thought it might be kinda fun, but then rememebered how much I liked my teeth and all the aches and pains i already had, so no thanks. It was fun to be asked though!!

  7. Wendy!!!!!! What? You were approached? Damn girl, respect out to you! But its true, you're teeth are pretty great, so are knees, elbows, wrists, etc. Probably all worth it just to have a Roller Derby Name. I think that shall be my next Blogger Queen poll.

  8. Another really funny post. I will have you know that I truly searched Hi and Low to look for an (in)appropriate roller derby name for myself. I am very curious to see what our anonymous new friend's roller derby name is...there are some great ones. I even found the form for register your name. I am thinking it might be in my future. God knows I am aggressive enough and not to mention a real bitch! But, like Wendy, I am a fan of my teeth, and I do bruise easy. But think of waht great exercise it is!

  9. I just found you via a comment you left on my blog and oh, am I glad I did. I think you may well be my soul sister, but ballsier. And I like that.


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