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.