You do you

What is something you wish you could tell your 20-year-old self?

You are not responsible for your sister’s problems. That’s on them. Distance yourself from the dysfunction—now. Pay attention to your own feelings.

Lose the Catholic Guilt. In fact, just bag the Catholic Church church now. You were never really Catholic. You’re a Unitarian Universalist.

I know you think you couldn’t dislike any politician more than Ronald Reagan, but someone so sickening will arise in 30 years, you’re not going to believe it. Pay attention to the seeds of that catastrophe being planted now. Fight them. Observe and use your privilege.

“Welfare Queens” aren’t real.

They’re gonna legalize weed right around the same time as the catastrophe, which will be helpful. Yup, you can just walk in and buy it! And you won’t have to worry that it’s laced with anything.

Go see The Cure live.

Guilt-inducing dolls

Daily writing prompt
Do you have any collections?

As a kid, I had numerous collections—shells, rocks, stamps, glass animals, and dolls…lots of dolls.

I’ve purged the attic of all my old collections (I think), including my vinyl record albums. (That one was sad, but they were warped and I don’t own a turntable anymore.)

The last collection to go was the dolls. I had a few specialty dolls, along with a large collection of Madame Alexander dolls, which were very popular gifts for girls in the 70s. I loved their pretty costumes representing the nations of the world. These weren’t dolls you played with (like Barbie), they were meant to be displayed and admired. They lived on a shelf in my room. Of course, I did play with them sometimes, but I felt badly for doing so. Thinking back, I already felt enough pressure to be perfect and not commit “sins” (as defined by the Catholic Church), so I really didn’t need those dolls tempting me too!

In the end, they were basically worthless. Even though they were in good shape (with their original boxes), a doll dealer gave me less than $50 for the whole lot. I should have played with them all along.

They sat on the dining room table for about a week, creeping out my husband, before I sold them.

The child bride doll (talk about creepy!) was the one I played with the most.
I’m pretty sure some of these costumes would be considered stereotypical or even racist now. You can’t see them in the photo, but the Dutch girl had real wooden clogs. And the Scottish girl had bright green eyes like emeralds. Spain was cool with her black veil. The Indian doll had a red dot on her forehead.

Related post:

I’d rather laugh with the sinners