Friday, February 23, 2007

The Likely Suspects


Ungrateful Little Bastard, Girl Detective


As a child, anyone and everyone was fair game to be "my real parents". "My real parents" were primarily musicians, although a fair number of movies stars, female relatives of my adoptive mother and even several younger nuns in my elementary school had their time in the sun as well.

As mentioned in a previous post, the term "my real parents" was allowed for a season when I was a child, but then I was encouraged to change my language. As I still struggle with what language to use, for my list of childhood "real parents", I've decided to begin to adopt (pun intended) an investigative tone of voice. This will be in preparations for my upcoming private investigator work that I shall do once I hear back from the courts, and will always be done while wearing a tan trench coat and carrying a large magnifying glass.

Hence: The Likely Suspects.

Likely Suspect #1 was actually in fact the earliest Likely Suspect I can remember, and one of my fondest memories. I adored Gary Lewis and The Playboys and played "This Diamond Ring" over and over and over. Actually, I still do.

The three Likely Suspect posts here were the earliest Likely Suspects I can remember. The Likely Suspects all had intense, epic, sweeping, failed love affairs, and were torn apart by evil forces. The evil force was usually the adoption social worker who was called "that nice lady who came to the house", but whom in my mind resembeled Cruella De Vile.
Evil forces also included the parents of Likely Suspects as well.

They never, ever, ever, ever wanted to let me go. They always intended to find me one day. The fact that they didn't meant something horrible happened to them.


It's up to me, Ungrateful Little Bastard, Girl Detective, to discover what happened. I'll bring the Likely Suspects up from time to time as I wade through old memories.

2 complaints from ingrates:

Andie D. February 26, 2007 at 11:39 PM  

For me, it was always the unknown girl next door type. I'd see a girl in a restaurant with long brown hair (like mine) and my heart would skip a beat. It could be a look in her eye. The way she laughed. Anything.

I'd immediately start playing the "What if?" game. I'd get dizzy just thinking about it.

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