They say that for a child to draw pictures of a sexual nature and to pose their dolls in suggestive positions are classic signs of molestation. Well, I did these things as a child, yet I don’t remember ever being sexually abused in any way. I was in the first or second grade when the teacher I had at the time confronted me about a rather explicit picture I’d drawn on the back of one of my work papers. I knew what it was, though I insisted otherwise. I was 6 or 7 at the time.

Over the years these incidents have left me wondering if anyone hurt me before I was old enough to remember it. Or do kids just sometimes draw these kinds of pictures anyway? I was still at least verbally and emotionally abused as a child. Maybe that’s enough to trigger these signs, IDK. If anyone did anything to me, I highly doubt it was someone in the family for two reasons. One is that no one in my family seems like the type to molest children, and secondly, it probably would have gone on for years if it was a family member. Molesters don’t usually strike just once or twice. So if I was victimized in any way it was probably done by someone who had little contact with me and was probably out of my life as fast as they were in it, leaving the memory of them to be gone forever and totally irretrievable. Most likely, however, nothing sexual happened. I would think that no matter how young a person may be who endures any kind of sexual abuse they would eventually have to remember it at some point in their lives. I know some people block these things out, but sooner or later, usually in their 20s, the memory resurfaces. Yet if by some chance you do exist and you’re still out there somewhere – no doubt thoroughly blessed by God – be glad I’ll never know who you are.

Some guy on MySpace claiming to be a photographer in San Francisco says he’s going to be in the area and would like to photograph me for some group he’s a part of, saying I have a lot of talent and potential in my profile picture. LOL, I let him know that picture’s about 6 years old and that I’ve since cut off all my hair. Yeah, it’s barely to the middle of my back now, though I’m sure it’s just some pervert wanting to try to rape or beat me. Maybe even kill me. I’d rather die of old age or poverty, whichever comes first.

We’re not exactly living in poverty at the moment, fortunately, since we’re about to spend a few hundred bucks on stuff we need and want. Let’s see… car parts that he needed to work on a pulley which he worked on today. A couple more sound machines for the other rooms since the barking, at least in the mornings, is going to be a year-round thing now. The retractable clothesline and the parts to build a rack for my perfume oils. A set of new cordless phones. And lastly, a partial mannequin that I thought looked really cool (Marie ought to love that, LOL). It would be good for keeping spare wigs on as well as making a nice decoration. It’s basically only a head. It’s only 17” high and only goes as low as just above the nipples. She has brown eyes and pierced ears, so she also makes for a good way to keep jewelry, particularly necklaces.

Marie tweeted that she’s thinking of me and hopes I call soon. I like it when she tweets. It’s a way of still keeping in touch and knowing what’s up with her, yet not losing too much time from work. I’ll go ahead and call her tomorrow night at 11pm my time unless she tells me to make it some other time. I’d rather that than the IM thing, and this way I can hear her voice.