A Girl Named Bazooka
When I was twelve my dad's girlfriend (who I hated) had a sixteen year old daughter who I worshiped. I loved going over to his house just to see her. I loved everything about her from her Led Zeppelin posters to the money that was always casually strewn on her floor. (I'd go home and toss some money on my floor too, but I always ended up picking it up. It was money!) Her name was Ann Marie but everyone called her Dee Dee. Just as much as I adored her, she ignored me. If I spent a full eight hours at their house and she just said, "Hey" to me, I was happy. At the time I thought she was this older mature woman. Looking back I realize she was just a teenager who, I'm sure, was very sick of having a twelve year old stare at her. When she wasn't around, which was often (I like to pretend it wasn't because of me), I'd stand in the doorway to her room and just look around. I wanted to be her. I thought she was the coolest. I remember her blasting, "He...