Cement Girl

the summer of 2002 i worked for my cousin in Long Beach, Washington. he runs a deli there at the beach. i stayed in his house with his family, sleeping in until 9:30, getting up, and working from 11 until 8 at night, 7 days a week. sometimes i had the afternoons off and i would make trips to the peninsula library. i would get ice cream, walk around shopping, and take my small cousins to the playground to bask in what little warm sun graces that sea hugging land. one day when a refrigerator malfunction caused us to close on a sunday I spent the whole day in Astoria by myself, turning in pictures at Fred Meyer, shopping at a hippie store, and seeing a movie by myself (don't ever rent U-571). that summer i made big decisions, broke a heart, had my heart broken, and rebuilt everything. somehow i became a little more independent. the friend i saw the most was Natalie, which was a total of 2 times over the summer. i discovered two of my favorite books that summer (to kill a mockingbird and poisonwood bible). i discovered new music that made a soundtrack to hazy, breezy, alone days, and dark, cold, solitude nights. i drove my volvo, willis, to kingdom come it seemed, with all the miles I put on him. i began to know i-5 and hwy 30 like the back of my hand. that summer after my freshman year of college i had my own real college experience, learning from life lessons, and living away from my family.

that summer i walked into a small Long Beach jewelry shop and picked out a toe ring. Three and a half years ago I put that toe ring on and never took it off.

this morning in the shower it broke in two. i was dismayed. I threw it in the bathroom trash like a used tissue.

somehow it seems that i should have given it a funeral of sorts. maybe this is it.