My mom freaked when I asked for pictures of me as a kid, as she plans to make albums for my brother and me, and just wanted to ask me to look through some photographs and chose the most beautiful ones.
I did that. I lost the fight with the scanner, though, so I just took some pics as I figure
watashi_no_desu is dying to see this now, even if the quality is rather crap. A high-quality update will follow next month in two months' time around Christmas maybe next year.
My parents met when they were 16, and married 4 years later.
That's me! I don't like the chicken, had some disagreements with the pigs, hate the neighbour's boys and their dog, and all geese once they stop being yellow. The bunnies are okay. I spend most of my time staring up the pine trees searching for red squirrels. I had a fight with the cat. He's orange, and I pulled him by the tail... and I won't touch a cat's tail again til I'm twenty-something!
For the first four years of my life, I am living with my grandparents, my mom's siblings, my cousin Bianca, and lots of animals. My grandpa is a miner, my grandma is running our village's post office, my aunts are going to school.
1976. Shortly after I moved in with my mom; my dad is visiting us. He's a radio officer now and is working on a huge ship. My mom's a programmer. We live in a tiny bedsit, quite a change from the house/garden/backyard and animals I was used to.
Hello! On my 4th birthday, I declared blue my favourite color. I like going to the kindergarten and listening to the radio. My parents dress me funny.
1977-79. My mom and I have moved into a 2-bedroom-apartment. My parents agreed to provide me with a sibling.
The buildings and greenery are typical for the quarter. Everything is tidy and new. Nothing is older than 5 years.
My grandparents Korla and Helene, my mom, my brother, me.
My hobbies are painting and protesting.
I protest against my name. (20.000 kids in this town and I'm the only one with this name!)
I protest against having to wear dresses and skirts just because I'm a girl.
I protest against having to eat up my plate in kindergarten/school when I have no influence on what goes on it in the first place. I hate meat. I pretend to go to the loo and spit it out.
This is what I usually see of my dad: Postcards from all over the world.
By the age of 6, I know the names of most countries and their capitals; my favourite country is Venezuela.
To be continued when I can be bothered.