Tuesday, November 17, 2009


This continues NaBloPoMo: a daily post of stories of my life - 33 years in 30 days. The eighth instalment is here.

Nine does not seem interesting to me.  I had my first crush during the beginning of that year.  A crush on a wonderfully good looking boy who remained that way until... well, I've looked him up on Facebook and he's still hot.

I entered Grade 4 with the shortest teacher ever.  I outgrew her almost immediately.  She was adorable.  We had one guy who was an entire foot taller than her.  I used to chase him around with perfume samples at recess until he almost cried.

That winter we made Santas out of old Reader's Digests.  After everything I have ever done or made, it is one thing of which I remember every step.  I could make those Santas in my sleep.  Which is weird because I've never made it again.

This is essentially all I remember about being nine.  Wow, I really hope my life improved after this.


  1. Oooh, how do you make them? Does it have to be Reader's Digests?

  2. OMG Gina, you will LOVE IT. I will email you immediately.


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