I used to think that the heart swung freely around in a
person's chest like a pendulum in a grandfather clock, but I was also an
exceptionally stupid child. I thought that a small pin through your chest would stop your heart from swinging. I looked at my mom's pincushion in her sewing drawer, and wondered when she was going to make her move on me. Did I mention I was stupid? Also, paranoid. Each year, before I had figured out the mechanics of our cardiovascular system, I would stare at the candles on my cake, remember my mom's barrage of pointy objects, and think to myself, "Nice try Mom- if that's your real name".
I've had people tell me I should be in pictures, and with my perfect skin, height, hair, and charisma, and cam you blame them? Wait. Maybe that's not what they said. They said "your life should be a sitcom", because of the hilariously fucked up day-to-day situations, my odd looks, and the regularity of my horrible slapsticky accidents.
When you put your face on a giant billboard, no matter how important or
impressive you are, the inevitable truth is that, at some point, somebody is going to
try and draw a massive schlong near your mouth.
