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Showing posts from June, 2015

Sarah Cannibal: Because I Would Eat You If I Had To

Because I was raised by wolves.
Not really.
But sorta.
Ok--maybe cats. I was raised by cats.
I was a difficult, fat, scabby, feral child. The youngest kid of those old-school big Catholic families--the one who crawls around under the piano, eating everyone's homework, teething on old cigarette lighters and rubber grapes. I was an early talker--mostly obscene--because by the time the fifth, sixth or tenth kid comes along, everyone is tired of watching their mouths. Mostly I was in the barn, searching for the new litters of kittens. We had a rotating herd of barn cats. And there were always new kittens.
But cats really aren't good as surrogate parents. If you have retractable claws, they might teach you how to kill mice, but other than that, they don't have a lot of useful life skills to pass on to young girls.
My mother did not teach me to sew.
In fact, she thought I was a bit tetched in the head for wanting to even bother with it--"spend all that money and time and i…