All I've done all day is snuggle up on the upstairs couch, looking out into my secret garden back yard (the trees are great, but there's little to no grass and when I try to mow it I kick up a miniature dust bowl) and the GRAY CLOUDS passing through with A LITTLE RAIN (MIRACLESSSS!!!!!!), I watched the 1996 Jane Eyre, and now I'm reading Wuthering Heights. Technically the book is homework, so I'm even being useful. This day is a dream.
Secret #2:
I loved playing with Barbies when I was a kid. I had a car, a pool, a pink kitchen-furniture set (that came with food, which rocked), a garden party bench and DESSERT CART (yes, it was the best) and half a dozen dolls. It wasn't so much acting out scenarios when I was playing on my own (and I did not really like playing Barbies with other girls, even though I only played with my Star Wars action figures when Mark agreed to play with me); I loved dressing them up, re-dressing them up, asking my mom to braid their hair, re-dressing them up, and then trying to get them to stand up or sit down realistically. I was a poser of Barbies. I wanted them to look like the pictures on commercials or on their boxes. I definitely gave them voices, but I knew they were grown up and did not have the same 5-year-old problems I had. I don't think they gave me unrealistic expectations about my body; they were about as unhuman to me as a Mon Calamari.
I didn't like baby dolls. You could not convince me to be happy playing with them. I thought they were boring and ugly, especially Cabbage Patch dolls. The thought of baby dolls is still pretty grotesque to me.
But real babies are cute! I don't hate babies!
And now the sun is out... Good things don't last forever. Oh well. Back to Heathcliff.
I was the same way! Barbies all the way, no thank you on baby dolls.
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