Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Hello again
Hello my lovely readers! I'm sorry to say that this will probably have to be a weekend endeavor for me--school and work isn't going to do itself! I will update either Friday or Saturday. TTYL!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sorry for the delay!
Sorry Internet people! This presentation is taking forever! And--guess what--I just got a call telling me I have to work longer hours tomorrow at the daycare! Aaaaaaah!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Hello Internet!
Hello everyone! My name is Jane (which you probably know already, lol) and I want to share my story with you. There's really not much to tell, but I want to know that there will be some record of my life after I'm gone. After all, isn't that what everyone wants?
Let me start with my childhood in Gateshead, NY, just outside of Manhattan. Gateshead was the premier place for young, wealthy up-and-comers to live with their white-picket fences and flower gardens. I lived there with my Aunt, Mrs. Reed, and her three children, my cousins--Jack, Gigi, and Nikki. There was also a housekeeper, Lizzie, who has become a wonderful friend.
I hated Gateshead and everything about it. Everyone was so wrapped up in their fancy toys and clothes, and all of the other girls were so obsessed with their looks. Nikki, who was only a year older than me, had every designer label in her closet and she was always going on about "staying current" and whether things were "in vogue." I never understood half of the things she said. Gigi was two years her senior and spent a full two-and-a-half hours on her hair and makeup every morning, even before she hit puberty. Lizzie the housekeeper used to joke that if she needed that much time at her young age, she would need the entire 24-hours of the day when she was her age.
As for my cousin Jack, he was a corpulent, bullying child who seemed to spend every waking hour on his Game Boy. That isn't to say that he didn't have friends--he often spent time with a group of rowdy, obnoxious group of boys who called themselves the Gate-pack. He was a selfish, sullen boy who often decided that I was his personal slave.
As for me, I was always a plain, quiet kind of child. The other children at Gateshead Elementary teased me for my mediocre looks and hand-me-down clothes, so I found solace in the books I found in the library. My favorite was Matilda--I hoped that someday I would find a family that would appreciate me, just like Matilda did.
You must be wondering, Internet, why I didn't have the fancy clothes or state-of-the-art toys the Reeds had. The truth is that Mrs. Reed did not think I was worthy of them. You see, the late Mr. Reed had taken me into his home after the death of his only sister, my mother. I know very little about my mother, except she must have looked like me and that she was an artist.
Mrs. Reed always chose to scold me with the following words: "Just like your foolish, plain, freeloading-artist mother!" My mother, you see, was a brilliant painter who moved to the city to pursue her dreams. She lived with my father (I only know his name--Oscar) for a year before she got pregnant, out of wedlock, with me. When she refused to get married, claiming it was a "social tyranny" that every unwed mother should get married, her family disowned her. Mr. Reed was the only one who stayed in touch with his beloved sister, and he insisted on taking me in when my parents were killed in a home invasion. When I was two years old, Mr. Reed died from cancer. In his will, he commanded his wife to take care of me, and out of obligation only, Mrs. Reed obliged.
I lived with the Reeds until I was ten. As for why, I'll have to leave that to tomorrow--I have a presentation for psych on Monday that I have to prepare for.
Let me start with my childhood in Gateshead, NY, just outside of Manhattan. Gateshead was the premier place for young, wealthy up-and-comers to live with their white-picket fences and flower gardens. I lived there with my Aunt, Mrs. Reed, and her three children, my cousins--Jack, Gigi, and Nikki. There was also a housekeeper, Lizzie, who has become a wonderful friend.
I hated Gateshead and everything about it. Everyone was so wrapped up in their fancy toys and clothes, and all of the other girls were so obsessed with their looks. Nikki, who was only a year older than me, had every designer label in her closet and she was always going on about "staying current" and whether things were "in vogue." I never understood half of the things she said. Gigi was two years her senior and spent a full two-and-a-half hours on her hair and makeup every morning, even before she hit puberty. Lizzie the housekeeper used to joke that if she needed that much time at her young age, she would need the entire 24-hours of the day when she was her age.
As for my cousin Jack, he was a corpulent, bullying child who seemed to spend every waking hour on his Game Boy. That isn't to say that he didn't have friends--he often spent time with a group of rowdy, obnoxious group of boys who called themselves the Gate-pack. He was a selfish, sullen boy who often decided that I was his personal slave.
As for me, I was always a plain, quiet kind of child. The other children at Gateshead Elementary teased me for my mediocre looks and hand-me-down clothes, so I found solace in the books I found in the library. My favorite was Matilda--I hoped that someday I would find a family that would appreciate me, just like Matilda did.
You must be wondering, Internet, why I didn't have the fancy clothes or state-of-the-art toys the Reeds had. The truth is that Mrs. Reed did not think I was worthy of them. You see, the late Mr. Reed had taken me into his home after the death of his only sister, my mother. I know very little about my mother, except she must have looked like me and that she was an artist.
Mrs. Reed always chose to scold me with the following words: "Just like your foolish, plain, freeloading-artist mother!" My mother, you see, was a brilliant painter who moved to the city to pursue her dreams. She lived with my father (I only know his name--Oscar) for a year before she got pregnant, out of wedlock, with me. When she refused to get married, claiming it was a "social tyranny" that every unwed mother should get married, her family disowned her. Mr. Reed was the only one who stayed in touch with his beloved sister, and he insisted on taking me in when my parents were killed in a home invasion. When I was two years old, Mr. Reed died from cancer. In his will, he commanded his wife to take care of me, and out of obligation only, Mrs. Reed obliged.
I lived with the Reeds until I was ten. As for why, I'll have to leave that to tomorrow--I have a presentation for psych on Monday that I have to prepare for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
