ramen-box dollhouse

it's my grandma's birthday today

I made a dollhouse out of ramen boxes and fabric scraps. I never had a one as kid, so I figured I would make it for myself. Though there’s no table or bed for my little kitty trinket, I did put some zines in there for her to read. Silly crafts keep me from laying in bed and hyper-analyzing my life.

Today is my grandma’s eighty-fourth birthday. She thinks I’m clever for making my dollhouse out of trash. When I think about how old she is, how her body fights her every day, I become filled with fear. But I know she doesn’t see things that way. Her sense of humor is much stronger than my sense of dread. That gives me hope.

I’m beginning to think about the end of the year. Winter has been lonely and cold so far, and it hasn’t even started. I sit in coffeehouses with fogged up windows, though I really shouldn’t be having coffee in the first place. It makes my overthinking worse. But I like to be around other people, even if only to catch some sort of secondhand warmth. I can appreciate every character: old guys talking politics, millennials feigning productivity on their laptops, queers ordering iced matchas.

And then there’s me, trying to find my place by observing everyone else. I hope that, by the time I’m my grandma’s age, I feel more sure of myself.

xoxo

Sky