i requested a song on kexp and it sounds like it's being played on the wrong speed.

i emailed the dj and i don't know if i looked like an ass. you don't know what these crazy artists are going to do these days!

oh man, i am making a mix cd...is it for niki? is it for the penpal? will jenny like it if i send it to her? I DON'T KNOW.

but i do know that i am putting "covered by hair" by juno on it. crap. sometimes the rock is just so so so so good.

i had a memory today, it came to me out of nowhere.

when i was little i used to walk up to wildwood school, the elementary school i went to k-6, i used to walk circles around its basketball courts and sing songs to myself. i would just make them up about anything i saw, kids playing horse, birds landing on the slide, getting blisters from swinging from the monkey bars.

sometimes i would make up whole songs about playing handball.

and then i remembered how competitive i used to be when i was little, how much i loved to win games and excel, especially when playing against boys. i still have a scar on the back of my hand from when i beat matt r playing german dodgeball and he got so angry he ran across the court and tackled me.

i was furious, i punched him in the stomach until he nearly vomitted. god i hated that kid and he hated me.

i didn't even get in trouble, because i showed the yard duty the injury on my hand and he got sent to the office.

i have so many stories like this, i think i really got off on showing the boys that they weren't all that special. i was unbelievably strong for a girl. i would arm wrestle them and win, i would hit the ball farther than they could, i would tag them out faster.

i wasn't the best runner, but i would find ways around my weaknesses to show them they weren't all that hot.

and then there was the time in 6th grade when i was playing tetherball and i was going balls out and didn't notice that everytime i jumped to catch the ball my shirt would fly up and everyone could see my bra.

jesus, you have no idea how much shit i got for wearing a bra then. the boys were freaked out because i was getting tits and they were strangely fascinated but had no idea what to make of them, and the girls hated me because i had real tits and they were still going without a bra.

i remember that when i realized i sat on the ground, in the corner of the yard where no one could see me, and i cried and cried and cried, i was so ashamed of my body.

i think that's when i started to really hate my body, it was so out of control, it was womanly already and i was only 12. i had no idea how to deal with it, and no one to tell me it was ok.

i didn't even tell my best friend that i got my period for almost a year after i started bleeding.

the curse of being the early bloomer, i swear to god.

i just wanted to be normal, i just wanted the other girls not to hate me, i just wanted the guys to stop snapping my bra, giving me welts and laughing when i screamed at them to leave me alone.

i hope if i have a girl that when she starts bleeding she doesn't hate herself for it, i hope she loves her new woman's body.

i hope she trusts me enough to talk to me about it.

she won't though. she'll probably pick up from me the desire to work things out on her own even if she's completely unequipped to do so. she'll probably find her inability to come to terms with all these changes as her flaw, and she'll probably be incredibly angry about it.

if she's anything like me.

you know what though? i remember when i was sitting there in the corner of the yard, my arms crossed across my tits to hide them as best i could, tears running down my face, craig came over to see why i was crying.

and i couldn't tell him, i couldn't even look at him. but he pulled my face up and asked me in the most awkward way if i was crying "because of your...shirt?"

i just kind of pulled my head away and didn't answer.

but then he told me that it wasn't my fault and that i shouldn't cry, i played tetherball like a bad ass.

i couldn't respond to him, but i hid my head in my hands while i smiled to myself and asked him to go away.

craig peed himself during storytime in third grade, and i was the only one who didn't pick on him for it.

by fourth grade everyone forgot about it and craig was back in the gang.

but i guess he didn't forget that i never bothered him over it.

i wonder if he still tortures himself over the shame everyone wanted him to feel.