when you have friends who aren’t friends but later see that they’ve become friends (virtually) when you know they couldn’t actually ever, and I mean ever be friends. And why do you know that? because you were their actual friend who actually knew them.
it’s not really funny, it’s just how you start a rant-like thought, i think.
One by one, I took her Barbie dolls and drowned them in water. It was symbolic. She looked like one of the Barbie dolls, but I couldn’t drown her so I went for the next best thing — her birthday present.
Her name was Mayra. She had a boyfriend, like most girls similar to her. He walked in, on the day of her birthday, with a pink cake and a huge gift box. She blew out her candles and clapped her big, skinny, hands together. She unwrapped the box and inside were four Barbie dolls – only one of them was a brunette, the rest were blonds.
Days before her birthday, my mother asked her to look after me while she went to some meetings. My mother worked as a representative for Mary Kay cosmetics, she even had the car and everything. Mayra loved my mother so she said yes. Most days I was at school. The others I’d sit around and read the Ramona book series, by Beverly Cleary. I asked inappropriate questions, sure, and watched too many horror movies, but I considered myself a good kid, or so my mother said. But soon I learned that the one thing that could turn a child bad, was not being fed. I’ll be honest, I was no Matilda. Cooking pancakes wasn’t my strong point (it still isn’t).
I put Ramona down (ironically Ramona is also my mother’s name), and headed over to Mayra’s room. We lived in a two-room house, and Mayra was my mother’s roommate.
Knock, knock, knock.
She asked me what I wanted, I said food. She opened her door and grabbed a black silk robe. Even though it was meant to be loose, it hugged her voluptuous body. If I had to compare Mayra to any one celebrity, I’d say she looked like Kim Kardashian, but in the 90s, Mayra’s body made her self-conscience, that much I knew.
Birthday Barbie was written by Laura Aguirre for her Creative Non-Fiction class.