Monday, July 26, 2010

A memorial for Little Bear.

I'm taking time out of my day to blog about my weirdness or averageness as a child. I've been reminded of it several times over the course of today, so I have decided that the world wants me to blog about it.

Everyone's seen the signs right before you cross a bridge that say 'BRIDGE MAY BE ICY'. When I was first learning to read, I started reading all the signs to myself. I must have been six when I read one of those signs. My brain processed it as 'BRIDGE MAY BE ITCHY'. I started to get a little freaked out and I would hold my breath whenever we went on a bridge. In my mind, if the bridge got itchy, then the bridge would itch itself. I mean, that's common sense. But when I imagined the bridge itching, I would see two giant purple arms with pale green spikes coming out of them like a rose itching all the cars off of it. Thankfully, that never happened.

When I got my nails painted for the first time, I remember that my mom walked off saying 'I'll go get the nail polish.' and I replied by walking over to our cabinet where we kept art supply thingys, and I said 'I'll get the paintbrushes!' I don't know how I remember that, but it's locked into my brain.

In pre-school, I had two and a half best friends. Ava, Marci and the half was named.... Sam, I believe. He didn't completely count as a best friend for two reasons. One, he was a boy. Two, he didn't play Linkin Logs with me all the time. I used to bring my talking Little Bear stuffed animal in to pre-school with me (Now that I think about it, it was the freakiest thing ever). If you squeezed his hands, he'd say something like 'Hello! What are we going to do today?' and 'Let's go play!' 'Hooray!' 'I need a hug.' 'I'm your little bear.'. If you pressed his belly or sat on him or threw him, he'd laugh. The three (or sometimes four) of us would use blocks to build him a house. But one day, he wouldn't talk for a while. Turns out, his batteries just needed to be replaced, but I didn't know that. We built him a memorial with toys scattered around. And we buried him in blocks and we had a funeral and everyone came and cried with us. It was a very momentous occasion for me.

Now, slightly more recently, this part of my childhood takes place in late elementary school. My friends Caitlin, Kelsey and I (maybe there was another person or two who joined in. I can't remember.) played this game that we called '368 Worlds'.
I can't remember the exact plotline, I guess you could call it, but I do know that I pretended to be a girl named Samantha. Either her or her evil clone or twin or something. I was both, but I don't remember the other's name. And there was little portal or something that my people went through. I remember spending two recesses trying to get my evil person's entrance just perfect, and another one or two arguing about what should happen next.
There were 368 worlds in total and since either Kelsey or Caitlin's alter ego was a Princess or Queen or something, we could travel between all the worlds almost at will. I remember what one world was. It seemed to be loosely based off of Faerie World in neopets. At least, from what I can remember. It was the Princess/Queen's home planet and there was some kind of conflict with a King or a Prince or something. It was quite amazing. We kept it going for more than two school years. I really wish I could remember all of it.

I'd love to continue on and tell you all about my 'fabulous' fifth grade year, but I need my beauty rest, so I'll probably do that tomorrow. TOOODLES!

That first picture isn't mine. I found it on deviantart.

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