The Legend of Miss A, Part 1. The Little Red House on Tioga Trail

I love the phrase "like a phoenix" that I used the other day. It's so melodramatic...I used it when talking to Betsy on the subway one day about River Phoenix and Johnny Depp. She wished River Phoenix were still alive. I contended that Johnny Depp would have had to fight for his status as King-of-Cult-Superstars before rising up from underneath River Phoenix like...a phoenix.

Anyway, I decided today that it is not enough to just drop a bomb and move on with my blog. If this blog is truly going to serve me with some kind of personal reconciliation or revelation or...something, I need to really spill my guts. I need to put it all out there and explain myself to myself so that I can figure myself out. And if you're reading this, maybe you'll figure something out about yourself from it. Wouldn't that be nice?

Thus, I give you The Legend of Miss Adventurous.

Part 1: The Little Red House on Tioga Trail

Sweetest Day is a holiday that was concocted by a bunch of candymakers in Cleveland, Ohio in 1921. Observed only in a few regions (and even then only by sappy sentimentalists like my mom), it falls on the third Saturday in October. In 1980, it fell on October 18th, which proves in my mind that my mother was doped up when she had me, because she always says I was born on Sweetest Day. According to calendars, however, October 17, 1980 was a Friday. I suppose I must have arrived a few days later at the Little Red House on Tioga Trail, just a few hundred yards away from Lake Erie.

I had one big sister, aged 5.5. She quickly became fixated in my brain as a bossy know-it-all. I wanted to be just like her, but she seemed to thwart all my efforts.

I had one mother, or Source of Affection and Cuddling. I remember her being silly and fun, with long, fiery-red, stick-straight Pantene hair. She worked at a department store and read me stories every night.

I had one father, who was a little more mysterious. I remember him sleeping a lot, and sometimes being afraid of him, even though I loved him intensely. I also remember that he was sillier than Mom, but in a way that I didn't understand as well. I don't remember him working at all, though I know he sometimes did.

I also had one female cat named Sylvester. I don't remember her at all, since she either ran away or died within a couple of years of my arrival.

Some things I remember from the Little Red House:

1: The day Olly came to live with us. My second pet (not counting fish) was another cat, a long-haired, grumpy-old-man sort of fellow. I remember him in the doorway, looking at our house for the first time. I was really excited. He became my best friend, and I became his arch-nemesis.

2: The dead Oscar. My dad used to keep Oscar fish, and one got sick--I think with the Ick disease. I remember he put it in the trash can. That was the first time I understood what dead meant.

3: Swimming in Lake Erie. This one's vague. I remember the smell and taste of the lake water. I remember seeing my sister, who always swam out too far, like a tiny speck on the horizon. I remember wishing I could have one of the inner tubes so I could swim out that far too.

4: Trick-or-Treating. We had a neighbor kid with the same name as me. His dad dressed up like a gorilla on Halloween and scared the bejeezus out of me. I think I cried.

5: The crazy neighbors. On the north side we had this dude named John who was really nice, but had a creepy beard that always wigged me out a little. On the other side, there was this completely insane woman with this disgusting red dog. I think if I had known what a witch was at age three, I would have thought she was a witch.

6: The Orange Truck. We had this weird little orange pickup truck that my dad used to drive around. I always thought that truck looked so cool, like a big giant toy. If I had one today I would be the coolest gal in town. Jay Leno would stalk me.

7: Bunk Beds. For a while, my parents thought it was a good idea for my sister and I to share a bedroom even though I needed a nightlight and had breathing problems. So they bunked our beds. I thought it was really cool and fun, like a sleepover. I remember my sister yelling, "MOM! SHE'S BREATHING TOO LOUD!"

8: (most vivid) Stir-fry and the Perm. One afternoon, I was sitting on a bench in the kitchen while my dad was making stir-fry, his favorite (not mine by a long shot). I remember the smell. My sister sat at the kitchen table. I don't remember what she and I were doing, but I remember it felt fun, like my dad was in a good mood and we were all giggling about something. Maybe I had my jelly shoes on. Then my mom came through the door with a brand-new giant 80's perm. My world came to a screeching halt as the one person I could always count on no matter what had suddenly done away with her long, beautiful Pantene hair and come home with a small red dog attached to her head. I cried and told her she wasn't my mom.

9: Packing the fish. When we were packing up to move away from the Little Red House, my dad put all his fish in a cooler. I remember them swimming around in there. I remember thinking it was really weird to put our pets inside a box that usually contained food items.

10: (most poignant) My pink jelly shoe. I had these awesome pink jelly sandals. They were my favorite possession ever, even more favorite than all my toys. If I could get them back today I would probably try to figure out a way I could wear them. While we were packing up and getting ready to move, I could only find one. I was frantic. My mom helped me look around the entire house for it, but to no avail. My last memory of the Little Red House on Tioga Trail is staring out the rear window of the car as we were driving to our new house and suddenly remembering that my pink jelly shoe was behind the water heater.