Today is Wednesday. Wednesday is the day of the week where the most weddings happen. Psychologist, physicians and psychoanalysists conclude there is a correlation between the word “Wed” in both the day and the event forcing humans to subconsciously desire to have their wedding on Wednesday. My grandmother’s great grandmother had her wedding on a Wednesday, starting the tradition within my family for YEARS TO COME. I discovered a picture from her wedding folded up in an old dusty box in the attic.
I de-wrinkled the photo of course [using my hair straightener] then scanned it to my hard-drive. Above is my great great great grandmother Agnes Wilkinson the fourth, who was forced to marry the man in the picture, Winston Howardston the third. Rumor has it that she is not smiling because he didn’t hold the status of “the fourth” as she did. Only after years of marriage, and seeing him rescue a puppy from a raging river, did Agnes truly fall in love with Winston. Plus, papers surfaced revealing Winston’s father was really his grandfather so he did in fact hold the title of Winston Howardston the fourth.
In the box of family documents, I came across my great grandmother’s twitter page. [also de-wrinkled by my hair straightener]
There was a lot of turmoil going through this woman’s head. I’m glad everything worked out resulting in the birth of me. What I’m trying to say is, the fact that I exist is quite mystical and fantastic. The fact that you exist is quite mystical and fantastic. I came across my great etc. grandmother’s diary entry:
It’s sad how she had to write in secret. It reminds me of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper where the housewife is told to rest and not be creative or express herself. My phone’s ringing…I’ll be right back.
That was my mother on the phone. She told me Agnes was not in fact my great etc. grandmother, just a woman who married my grandfather then took all his money. I feel lost and confused. I have to go. I wish it was Friday- the day people eat fried foods the most.