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I Should�ve Taken That Left Turn at Albuquerque |
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Hello and welcome. If you're new here, be a dear and Read my Disclaimer. My diary not good enough for you? Fine, be that way. Try these instead: plf
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2000-09-03 - 9:06pm� Song lyric of the Day: There was a fire last night at the apartment building across the street from me. The fire trucks stayed parked out front, their lights still flashing until early morning. It was sort of creepy seeing the coloured lights pour in from the windows and flash on the walls all night. I guess there wasn't too much damage, all things considered. No one was seriously hurt, and damage was contained to 6 apartments. Still, apparantly none of the people affected by this had any fire insurance. Fire insurance is an important thing to have. Replacing basic necessities is expensive. Clothes shopping alone would be a nightmare. Fires scare me. Wait, let me rephrase that. House fires scare me. I had nightmares for a week after I saw my first fire prevention/safety presentation, I think it was in preschool. I don't know what upset me the most, that I could lose all my things, or that my house, my safe place could potentionally turn against me and cause me harm. When you're young you think that whatever bad things might be lurking in the world, they can't get you when you're safe at home. At least that's how I felt when I was young. To a certain extent, I still sort of do. It hasn't happened to me yet, thankfully. No fires to speak of in my life. The closest I came was when I was six and my brother was a baby. My mom was sterilizing the bottle nipples in boiling water on the stove, and everyone sort of forgot about them. We were in the basement of our house playing a board game and listening to a Sharon, Lois and Bram record when we started to smell the burning rubber. My dad went upstairs and I guess he took the pot off the stove and opened all the windows. My mom grabbed my brother and I and ushered us outside. Then we went out for pizza. All in all it wasn't a bad day for me, except for the disgusting scent of burnt rubber lingering in the air when we got home. I sometimes wonder, looking back on that memory, if my mom "got in trouble" for that. It seems like the kind of thing that my dad would have yelled at her and belittled her for. Especially then. He was such a bastard to her when my brother was a baby... not that he has ever really stopped being a bastard to her... The funny thing is that I don't remember him getting upset about that. I don't remember him making a big deal of it. From my six year old point of view, he was cool about the whole thing. He went upstairs and put an end to the danger. He took us out for pizza. A part of me wants to ask my mom about it, find out if he gave her hell and called her stupid and worthless over a mistake that he had a hand in too. A bigger part of me doesn't want to stir things up that aren't important anymore. But it is a strange feeling, to question just how real and reliable my memories are.
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The big 3 0 - 2006-06-03 Hello again - 2006-05-03 Random stuff in place of an actual update - 2006-03-15 Pictures. Just Because. - 2006-02-23 Christmas 05 - 2005-12-26 Currently listening to: |
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