I am obsessed with the idea of building a sailboat. But I have no desire to ever sail it.
I had the same dream three nights in a row when I was a kid. I am in a small grocery store with my parents, when I realize they have left me there. I start to panic, but then immediately find myself in the cargo section of a Mrs. Bairds truck, which is filled with loaves of bread. As I am thrashing around, trying to get out, I slowly start to sink down, and the bread completely engulfs me. That was over 40 years ago. I still get an uneasy feeling in grocery stores. Especially in the bread section.
My father once told me that Wolf Brand Chili was made from wolf meat; that was why they called wolf brand chili. Even though I know better now, I still can't bring myself to eat it.
It wasn't until I was a senior in college before I found out I had been mispronouncing my last name all that time.
I once considered killing my father.
I have misplaced my copy of Flaubert's "Bouvard et Pecuchet." I have looked everywhere. I have no idea what could've happened to it.
I begged my parents to let me buy a German dagger, which I became obsessed with after seeing it in a store at the mall. After constantly pestering them for weeks, they finally acquiesced. While in the woods one day, using it as a throwing knife, the rosewood handle completely broke off, as it clanged against the fallen tree I was throwing it at.
When it comes to food, I will try just about anything, but I draw the
line at feet. Also Brussels sprouts. And Mrs. Bairds bread and Wolf
Brand chili, it goes without saying.
I have changed my mind about the sailboat. I think I would like to sail it into the ocean, and never return.
