Ever get up really late in the morning, get dressed quickly, and off to work without really checking to make sure you look stunning? That was me this morning, and at work, I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror (why, I am not sure since I could do little to change it other than touch-ups) and I look good. Not evening-on-the-town good, but good for work.
Then I get to my seat and wonder what I am going to write – can I write good enough for the few loyal readers I get each day? Too soon to tell, but by the end of this, I may "look in the mirror again."
When I was six or seven years old, and I know this story will be slightly absurd, I can remember Easter at home. The grass was manicured, the dew was gently evaporating away, and me and my sister were Easter Egg hunting. Since she was 15 months my junior, we each had our own eggs to find. I had my boundaries and she had hers. I remember that crisp spring morning, surveying the lawn, and spotting most of her eggs. My eggs were well hidden, a handicap because of my advanced years to be sure.
My parents pitted us against one another throughout our early years, and this Easter Egg hunt was no exception. We needed to find the eggs in a short amount of time – and to this day, I think they were preparing us to enter Easter Egg hunts in the future and to win trophies for finding the "golden egg." Again, very silly, but to this day I can remember so much about that Easter.
We each found our eggs, and I found mine first. I "worked" at finding my eggs, while my blond-headed sister took her time. I remember seeing her tresses bobbing up and down as she skipped from easy-to-find egg to easy-to-find egg. I ended up finding all of my eggs first, and I presented them to my parents. First child, goal oriented, and I followed the script to the letter.
After the event, I remember my mother counting all of the eggs, and I had one egg more than my sister. I don't know why I had found an additional egg, but this I do remember. She "penalized me" by giving two eggs to my sister. As a young proper girl, I would never have thought, "what the fuck," but knowing what I know now, perhaps I should have mouthed those words. In my innocence, I immediately saw my sister taking from me.
As the years went forward, I continued to see the pattern. Sister taking my clothes, my toys, whatever, and parents not really "protecting me." But the culminating act of thievery was when I was a junior in high school. I had my first serious boyfriend, and I knew he liked the way my sister looked. She was extremely pretty in her sophomore year, and she had many older boys who thought she was wonderful. She ended up, I found out, kissing my boyfriend, and shortly thereafter, we broke up. I always thought of her as stealing him. I learned, years later, that she not only kissed him but fucked him, which would have surprised me actually. I knew she was flirty, but I did not really know the extent of her flirtiness.
Now over the years I have forgiven her, but I even wrote one erotic story to get back at her. My point is not to say my sister is a bitch. She really isn't. She was a bit off-course, and she enjoyed attention at that point in her life.
My point is this – sometimes, some very insignificant event may have ripples throughout your lifetime. Stealing an egg is felt years later in other ways. Now I have to go do some work and look productive. Perhaps I will read this later today, to "look in the mirror" and hope the entry does not need touching up.
Indifference is the Opposite of Love
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