Me: Chapter Three – The Birthday One…

Cut to…

Dad’s got the camcorder in front of us. My friend from church, Donovan, is waving his hands all silly like. Dad’s focussing on him. But only momentarily. I mean, it’s my birthdya afterall… Donovan seems to be having fdun, so I’m just following his lead. Obviously.

So… I, evidentally, start waving my hands all silly-plike back into the camcorder’s lense.

I’m pretty sure, later in the night, I complain that Donovan and my previously mentioned cousin, Kendrick, showed up with the exact same action figure present for me. And, being the five-year-old Karen that I was, I bitched about this for quite a while. I’m sure.

Some time later. Weeks. Months. Whatever. My dad tells me he hates when children are silly. Like Donovan. And stuffs.

And. Yeah…

As far as I can recalle, this is the first birthday party of mine that I remember. Mostly due to rewatchings ofthe camcorder footage mentioned.
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Snapping out of the matrix… or whatever… lol…

This rambling is goin to be filled with birthday sorties and a frw stories that I had intended to tell in the first chapter. But since I didn’t bring those stories up, now’s probably the best time. Especially since I won’t really have another good opportunity.

RANDOMISH SIDENOTE:
This is also the onlty oportunity to tell ALL of the RANDOM SIDENOTE stories that are coming up. Buckle in, this is a long ‘un.

**According to the digital timestamp, this picture was taken on a birthday birthday of mine. But. We’ll get into those details MUCH later.**

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Anyways.

THe first memories I have of life…

You know… smapping into the matrix and stuffs….

I mean… who the hell knows, right?

I have the VAGUE-EST of memories of being two-years-old and still being breast fed. Like… that’s THE vaguest. Like… I just remember my mom grabbing me, picking me up. Stuffs. I dunnp. But whatever. I remember that that happened.

Then there’s the time of neighbor kids were running away from me, making fun of me because I was too fat. Or something. Must’ve been three-years old.

They ran around, from their backyard to their front, back to the backyard, running around their blue-trimmed house. I can’t remember their names. Fuck. If I’m not mistaken, there were two houses (like… OK… if you walked uot MY front door there would be a house to the right, and then a house that’s kitty-corner to the right of them… and.. if I’m not mistaken… none of out houses had fences or anything like that). Bothof those neighbor houseses had a brother and sister duo that would play with me or something. On this occasion, the kids from the kitty-corner house were doing the playing/running around… their house…

Making fun of me. Being fat. Stuffs.

**That’s my first house according to google maps. And. LMAO… There still isn’t a fence between those two houses…**

Something like that.
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The next birthday. When I turned six, actually kicked ass. Shit. I just remembered this. Right now. lol… Uh…

I guess my parents rented a hotel room or something. And everyone that was invited to my virthday party hung out in the pool. What I remember most is, for whatever reason, I was playing “as Superman” and freeze breathed anyone that would come near me… In the pool.

lmao… something lile that.

Also…. I had, apparently, given out invitations to people in my kindergarten class. Or something. I don’t know. But. My cousin, Kendrick, was a grade above me. So. I gave Ms. Lillow, my kindergarten teacher, Kendrick’s invitation. I was expecting her to gibve the invitation to my cousin sometime after school, for some reasin. However, there was another boy that I barelyever even talked to whowas also named Kendrick… in my class. She gave the invitation to him.Not my cousin.

RANDOM SIDENOTES:
Kinderfgarten. Ms. Lillow.

God bless her Christian school techer heart. Cause like. I’d definitely interrupt her speaches, lectures, things. Whatever. With like, stupid shit I saw in movies.

THE specific example I remember was she told the class something like… how it’s impolite to tell people to, “Shut up!”

Immediately, I raised my hand to inform her that in Batman Returns, Batman tells (I mean, I didn’t say the dude’s name, I’m sure), Max Schreck, “Shut up, you’re going to jail.” I’m sure she had… some sort of good reply ti that. Another time… she had had it with all of our kindergarden class shit. All 20ish of us. She was annoyed. And as she was explainding her annoyance to us, I felt the need to raise my hand. She gave me the go-ahead nod my way so that I could say, “In Demolition Man…” she immediately cut me off before I could tell her anything about the film. And, essentially, me trying to talk about that movie, any movie/show/whatever (cause I know I did this a lot even though these were the only two exampls I remember) was exackky the sort of thing she was trying to get through to us to NOT do. Sort of thing. I hope that made sense.

Final memory worth… anything.. Kindergaartenness…

We’d pretty frequently go on field trips to a library. During these field trips, it’d always end with some sort of puppet show. Thing. One or two kids in the class would be allowed to participate in the puppet show. And I remembr being SOOOOO FUCKING extactic to participate in these. Like. I’d always be waving my hand with all sorts of enthusiasm and everything. But never got picked.

Now, merhaps it’s coincidence or however memory works. Or whatever. But the last time I remember going to the library field trip, with the puppet show, kid-participating ending… I was finally selected to be the child to go behind the (I mean, it was basically just a cardboard stage thing, merhaps… MER-FUCKING-HAPS… it had a wooden base and stuffs) “backstage.” In reality, it was just a dark corner of the room. Dark because you were behind the puppet show… stage… thing…

**Alright, there’s no sky or water back there… But that puppet stage you see here is inside, basically a corner of an office. Stuffs. Things. Words.**

That’s where I was. Now. The librarian dude was all sorts of upset this day. I dunno what happened. But apparently, someone had spilled something on a book or something. And he was all like, “What happens if you spill on a book?” Some kid was like, “It gets ruined?!” But. No. The answe he was looking for was/ And I quote, “It get’s big.” And that was a problem. He was upset with ourt class.

Somewhere in amongst this, I get to go behind the stage. I’m so fucking pumped as a five-to-six-year-old. This is why I was promised to my dad by God and shit, you know? I’m supposed to be a huge ass performer. Awesome. Cool. I get back there. The librarian dude is still going on about what the class had done wrong. While he was still standing in front of the “stage” he asked some sort of question to everyone in the class. From behind the stage, I raised my hadn to give him an answer. But. The class laughed in response. After the laughing died down, the librarian came “backstage” and gave me the “come here” finger gesture.

And.

There went my chance to be a part of the kindergarten library field trip puppet show. lol

I spent the remainder of the field trip crying. Ms. Lillow tried comforting me on the bus saying something along the lines of, “I know you try to be the class clown…” But nuh bruh. I was just trying to answer the dude’s question.

FINAL. FINAL FINAL. Note. On Ms. Lillow.

I don’t know when. I don’t know how. I don’t know why.

But at some point. She wrote me a letter, telling me that she was proud of me for learning how to put on my shoes. lmao…

FINAL. FINAL. FINAL. FINAL. Note(s). About Kindergarten.

“Graduating” kindergarten, we were supposed to walk down the aisle of our church, doing some “dance” thing wuth our hands that had apparently been popular. Dance. Thing. Or something.. I won’t go into details. I’ll just say. I hated the existence of all of thisl.

Before TikTok. And DanceDanceDancing with my handshandshandsing was ever a glimmer in Goody Addams’ eye, I hated doing some sort of dance with my hands. Graduating kindergarten. Which makes me more of a Wednesday Addams than Wednesday Addams in Wednesday, apparently.

I also graduated with a kid who wanted to be a pro-wrestler — just like his dad. In later years (after I became a fgan), I remember loooking at the kid’s namwe in my class photo thing that I still have somewheres to this day, but his name didn’t sound familiar at the time. I dunno. Merhaps I was expecting him to be Joe Hennig or something (shut up, he’s older than me). But yeah. This is the Minneappolis area. Where AWA’s carcas still had… something about it… so… who knows. Hope that kid made it!

EVEN RANDOMER SIDENOTE:
Pre-school. I dunno.

Some sort of museum field trip thing.

My mom, legit, came on this field trip with us for some reason. Again. I’m like 3-4-years-old. But whatever. I remember there being some room where like… It got all bright, then would go dark black, but when the lights came back on, your shadow would still be on the green walls. Something like that. We were instructed to do “something silly” for one of the dark moments. My mom put her foot on the wall, like, kicking it from behind, or something. And then. There was her shadow. Kicking the wall. lol

Also… there was one section of this museum that was designed to be like an actual newsroom. Or something. Like I remember seeing the stage. The map for the weather was on to the left of the anchors’ desk thing. And I remember going up into the control room. I don’t know.

I’ve got no idea what this place was. But it was awesome. More than likely, calling it a “Museum” is a wrong choice of words but that’s what I remember it being as a 3-4-year-old. Who knows? Right. My mom doesn’t remember this. At all. But I’m POSITIVE it happened.
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But…

Kendrick from my class got the invitation. I mean. Obviously. My cousin, Kendrick also showed up at the hotel and stuffs. My mom just called his mom and. Boom. Or whatever.
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RANDOMEST SIDENOTE:

Bruh…

I’m 3-45-years-old. Right? Batman (1989) is on VHS and everytghing. And my brothers fgot me HOOKED on it. So much that I would eventually get the Batman emblem tattooed on me. And for years now I have been and I am currently self-proclaiming myself to be a Batman expert.

And for whateve reason. Some lady. That was just a cashier. At a grocery store. Decided to play along with ALL of this.

ALSO.

Fucking.

Reruns of Batman the TV show starring Adam West and Burt Ward would come on DAILY at lunch time, bruh! Which,… I guess just meant noon (shit… Kendall, who’s a person I’ll be talking about a bit more later in this rambling, fucking recorded so many episodes of Batman just for me… BEFORE everything that happens… that… I’m about to mention… and Kendra even did MORE than that for me, it’s ridiciusl.)

Anyways. Random grocery store. Cashier. With blonde hair. Would play along. And she was “Batgirl.” For some reason.

Cool, cool. Coolcoolcool!
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**Dislike current Kevin Smith as much as you want, but dude was SPOT ON when he described, one time, how awesome it was to randomly see Batgirl in the upcoming *Batman* episode’s intro.**

RANDOMQUANTUMPHYSICS SIDENOTE:
…

I don’t know whast this upcoming “story” is. I just know it’s a thing that happened. In my life. Cast aspersions if you want. I know I am now. But I mean. I’m NOT looking for you to do so. I dunno. FFS… I’m NOT telling this story to “justify” the upcoming one. Or anything… Bruh… Just… Shut up. Me. You. Let’s continue.

All’s I know is. There’s one time. My dad and I went to the same grocery store. Where “Batgirl” would appear whenever my mom would take me in the mornings and stuffs. Same store.

The one and only time I remember going to this store with my dad was later at night. And the cashier lady was black. She had long nails.

I don’t know if it was on the ride home… oif ot was once we got home… I don’t know. All I know, for positive is that my dad drilled it into me that she was a witch. Because she had long nails, specifically. Merhaps, I shouldn’t (at all) but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt that the color of her skin didn’t play into it.

Who the hell knows?
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Here he go…

**I mean… there’s no sugarcoating this… this was the first time race ever played a factor in my life.**

And like… yeah.

My classmate, Kendrick, was black. He was the only black kid at my birthday party. And I’m not going to lie. I remembr being very disappointed that Ms. Lillow gave him the invitation. And I mean. I’m not going to lie, but this boy being black definitely had a factor in this disappointmen.

#1. I’m five, about to be six-years-old.
#2. I don’t think I ever had a conversation with this boy before. More than likely, racism on my part again. Yes. As a five-year-old.
#3. None of those two things excuse anything I’ve just said.
#4. THE memory that snapped back into reality that brought ALL of this back to me… the birthday party in the ppol, EVERYTHING… had to do with I remembered playing Superman and Kendrick was the FIRST memeory I thought of. He reacted to me “freezeing” him. In the pool. Whatever.
#5. #4. Wasm’t some sort of”happy Thanksgiving!” type ofg thing to discredit the racism that happened.

I…

I don’t know…

ALL of this. Is a stupid thing. In my childhood. That I remember.

And I hate that this exists. But it does.

Outside of ALL olf that. I’m pretty sure my parents were on their last pennies. I’m almost positive my parents, sister and I were were living in Lucas and Kendall’s basement. At the time of this six-year-old,magical hotel birthday of mine.

Meanwhile, my older brother (apparently, like… I barelt remember hearing that this was a thing, but looking back, it makes sense) not oldest brother, but older, was living in my aunt and uncle’s house/ My parents were footing the bill for all three of our educations at the fucking private, Christian school.

God told dad to quit his job. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Six-year-old birthday was at a hotel. And it was magical. And I made a new friend that happened to be black. I guess that makes me as racist as Robert E. Lee.

RANDOM SIDENOTE: Lucas, of Lucas and Kendall’s house whom’s basement we lived inside, had an infatuation with pro-wrestling. Like, I remember playing with those huge, rubber (LJN) action figures that existed back in the day. Like I specifically remember having my hands on one of those of Andre the Giant and such. Cool, cool. Coolcoolcool! I guess.

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I remember my sister made me meatloaf for my first birthday in Colorado.

Year after, even though my sister had complained about how evil X-Men were to my dad, I had an X-Men themed cake. Where, I ate ALL of Wolverine. My dad;s brother and sister-in-law were in town and gave me a can of olives as a gift.

Uh… the next one I remember uh.. It must’ve been my birthday in the year 2000 where I got a cake. It was round but had the attidude “WWF” logo on it. That was a pretty cool birthday. I know that much.

I’m 1000%s sure that I’m forgetting awesome birthday moments. No doubt about it.

Shit. I spent my 18th birthday in Europre, bruh (as seen abobve). More on that later though.

I’m sorry but. THE next birthday moment that comes to mind besides that “WWF” one happens when I turn 19. And I’m gifted THE Batman jacket.

You know.

This one.