dorkfysh's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- fuzzy memories When I was three and my mom was 19 she met a squat and ugly biker that came from money...so she married him. His mother was lived in Foothill with her 90 year old second husband who was even richer than the first one. Her house was one of those low slung and sprawling 60's things with a kidney shaped pool. I would spend weekends there on occassion because I was an acceptible granchild even though I wasn't a bioligical one. Her other grandchildren belonged to her wacky daughter who had rheumatoid arthritis. Her knees were fused so she walked like a cheap fake Barbie from Pic-n-Sav. The kids were the products of various drug-related relationships and were a little too brown for the old bitch's taste. I was blonde and quiet and obedient so I won the grandma lottery, even though she loathed my mother. My mom and stepfather would drop me off and I would play dress-up with her furs, jewels, fancy negligees and marabou mules while she lounged in the sunken living room sipping scotch and watching The Lawrenece Welk Show. She would make me a potted meat sandwich on thin thin white bread with a small dish of vanilla ice cream for dessert. I never her saw her eat anything. The best thing about her house was the master bathroom. The bathtub was big enough for me to swim in. I would float around and gaze out the giant picture window to the enclosed aviary that was filled with tropical birds and plants. I would pretend I was swimming in a jungle lagoon. Sometimes she would take me along to her Tahitian dancing class and would buy me a coloring book and one of those boxes of gigantic neon colored crayons. I hated those crayons, but I was too afraid of the old lady to say anything. Once she took me to Sears and bought me a little outfit just like my stepdad wore; Levi's, jean jacket, Hang Ten t-shirt and Hush Puppies. My hair was up on my head in a bun that resembled a cinnamon roll with curly tendrils framing my face. I then got my picture taken with a creepy man in an Easter Bunny suit and Miss Maryanne from Romper Room. When I was much much older my mom told me that the old lady supposedly drugged her ancient husband to death, but they were never able to prove it in court. I also never knew that every time I was visiting her the old man was in another wing of the house in his Craftmatic adjustable bed slowly dying from poison. I really wish I had that bathtub. 12:42 p.m. - April 08, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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