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July 9, 2012
I wanted to live inside a snow-cone, sometimes nestled at the bottom of the paper cone itself, the soles of my Keds grazing the bottom of the ice, mouth open to catch any errant drips, sometimes wedged into the scoop of perfectly-balled chunky-shaved ice itself, surrounded on all sides by endless fake-cherry red. Never mind the cold and the possibility of a never-ending "ice cream headache". While other girls dreamed of living in Mary Tyler Moore's apartment when they got "old", I dreamed of setting up residence inside an igloo, lying on my side at night and licking its walls.