I could have
been a potter. I say this every
now and then when I think about my life.
There are very few, but specific things I remember asking for growing up
that I didn’t get. Yes, that means
I was spoiled. My parents did
their best for my sister and I. They
wanted to give us everything we could have dreamed of. Growing up I didn’t feel well off,
because we shopped at Aldi, had old cars, and our house was small compared to
all of my friends’. Really
Kassie? In retro spec I was so
blessed and really was just a selfish child. Then I remember the two things… The two things I remember
wanting so badly and never getting.
I’ve talked a
lot about my dad. He’s a
businessman so I call him every five seconds during this whole, start a
business process, and he is a huge part of the majority of my life changing
moment stories. I have also
mentioned that he reads books. So
when little me asks him for a bunny as a child, he responds by saying that as
soon as I read all the books in the library about owning bunnies, that he would
buy me one! “My life is perfect” I
thought! All I have to do is go
get some books, read them, and get a bunny! So little me, with glasses that covered my entire face, got
the books. I read them and studied
them. I can still clearly remember
them in my mind. The one book was
all primary colors. So as I turned
each page, the red, blue, and yellow images clearly demonstrated what I needed
take care of my bunny. I studied
and read. I don’t remember exactly
how it all went down, but I can tell you this. I’ve never had a bunny.
I was born in
St. Louis, Missouri but moved to Chicago shortly after. My extended family still lives in MO so
you can just imagine all of the road trips back and forth between the two. Lucky for us, there is this place. Its called Blain’s Farm and Fleet and
its somewhere in the middle of nowhere right smack dab in the middle of our
trip. Its actually humorous how
many times I’ve used their bathroom, bought Christmas presents, candy, and
games at this place. For those of
you unfamiliar with this store located in the rural Midwest, it is basically an
everything store for farmers. The
clothing section comes with a complete selection of overalls, work boots, and
wool socks. Yes, its that kind of
store. Well this magical place
also has a pretty sick toys isle.
And one year I found this kids pottery wheel. OHH I wanted it.
So bad. To this day, I
still want that pottery wheel. I
thought about it all the time.
It was red, blue, yellow and perfect. I waited and waited until Christmas morning just knowing
that mom and dad had gotten it for me!
How could they not? I only
had probably another 100 things on my Christmas list that year! Well you can just imagine my
disappointment on that special morning, when I woke up at 5 am to open
presents, and it wasn’t there. I
never got the pottery wheel. Which
is why, when I’m feel sassy, which I usually am, I say to my dad with a little
smirk, “I could have been a potter…”
While these
childhood experiences have shaped my life so much, I thought I would tell you
about the more important wants, and the talks with dad that came along with
them.
I love
tattoos. I’ve wanted one since I
was 17 and I was determined to get one.
The only thing standing in my way was a man shaking his salt and pepper
hair cover head in my face.
Dad. Him being a more
conservation business man protested the idea often and with force. At the end of every conversation he
would say, until the day comes that I am not paying for you anymore, you can not
get a tattoo. What this meant in
my mind, it that I am going to keep asking until he cracks. Once I was in college, holidays seemed
like a perfect time to discuss this.
We would be driving from Chicago to St. Louis so we would be trapped in
a car for 5 hours. He couldn’t
escape. Year after year, I
asked. Year after year, he said no
and I would get so mad. You would
have thought he killed my puppy.
Right after I turned 21 I had decided to get my nose pierced. I thought I had to ask my dad, so I did. He responded my saying that I was a
grown up and I could do what I wanted.
OH HO HO. I got him. You know I was about to turn that
around and use it against him with the tattoo. I waited, like any good kid, for them to see me once with
the nose piercing so they could get used to it, and then I did it. I had planned it out so I knew what to
say. Two weeks later I got my
first tattoo. Man I’m good!
Most recently
and most annoyingly, I have been in need of a car. Now this has caused some heated arguments over the last four
years between the rents and I. My
sister always had a car in college.
Why can’t I have one? In my
parents mind, I live in a city, so a car was pointless. But school was in the suburbs. This meant I have spent the last four
years of my life bumming rides off people every time I needed to go to the
fabric store, or target, or to pick someone up from the airport. Not having a car makes me feel trapped. It still does to this day. I need space sometimes. I need to just get out of the city and
go somewhere. I am a grown
up! If I want to drive myself to
the beach I should be able to! But
no. And most recently I was asked
to sell a line of clothes at Kembrel, a boutique in Philly. This means I need supplies. Which means I need a car to go get
it. And I don’t have one. It’s the most complicated and dramatic
thing in the world. So last night
I called my dad way too late, I knew he would almost be sleeping. But I didn’t care. I was mad and stressed and I always
blame him for me not having a car so obviously I was going to call him to give
him a piece of my mind.
Dang it that man
is just too good. I hate when
people make it hard to be mad at them.
As the phone rang I told my roommate that I was going to fly to Chicago
to punch him. Ya I know, not my
best moment. But I was
heated. He was just so spiritual
and all you need to trust God. And
I was all like, “can’t you just became a hitman really fast to make some more
money!” He didn’t think it was
funny. So no car. Trying to trust that it’s all going to
work out. It’s hard. If you have a car that you don’t
want. Send it my way. I won’t protest. End of story, as I hung up the phone,
my roommate asked if I was still going to fly to Chicago to punch him in the
face. My answer… No.
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