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in summary
I'm glad I did this. I'm not nearly as tired as I thought I'd be. Exhausted, but not in an able-to-sleep way.That could change when the vodka really kicks in.
I was saddened to see so many drop out before the end.
Would I do it again next year? Probably, for a good cause. I'd think long and hard on gimmick, though, and put more work into design and pre-writing. Finding the time to crank out the posts and stunts every half hour, chat, surf the other 'thonnies, stuff the face, drink the caffeine and pee it all back out is so stressful to juggle. And, while I've tons of hits from the webring, I don't feel that many people stayed to read anything. Which is a bit disheartening. As support for a reading charity was the point of the whole thing :-)
My cats were horrible company. Only McFly came to visit me, briefly, once. Elmo sits here now, when the whole thing is nearly over. Sheesh.
[sniff-sniff] At least I don't smell bad.
Thanks again to all my sponsors. Without you, this would have been pointless! And thanks to everyone who dropped by and chatted throughout the event. You kept me from slipping into a coma! I truly enjoyed all the conversation, so stop back and chat again.
And to everyone who participated - we so rock. We do. I just read the final tally is close to $20K. Yeah.
Now, signing off for quite some time,
Jennie
12:02 PM comments [0]
new thing #12: bloody mary
Vodka and tomato juice, new breakfast of champions! Cheers! to all the Blogathoners!It's good. I used this recipe, but with lime juice instead of lemon. May have added a bit too much tabasco, because it burns going down. In a decidedly spicy way, not a vodka way.
Am I the only one who's not tired? I hope the vodka'll counteract all the coffee and have me out for a nice nap by the time all this is all over. I think my body needs sleep, even if my brain doesn't!
11:32 AM comments [1]
storytime: Sugarloaf wilderness
First, I'll let a few of the pictures speak:A granite temple to beauty and nature. And not a little hedonism.
What we did at/on top of/around/beneath Sugarloaf Mountain in Marquette:
* Got drunk (usually aided by Strawberry Hill Boone's Farm)
* Stumbled down 230 stairs and winding trail in the moonlight, drunk
* Stumbled and giggled on the dark forest floor, drunk (even in the wilderness girls travel in bathroom packs)
* Stargazed
* Moongazed
* Aurora-gazed
* Made out
* Ran over it in jogging class
* Hiked it countless times
* Mourned when a forest fire took one-third of its trees
* Commiserated
* Walked to it through three miles of snow
* Climbed it covered in three feet of snow
* Picked blueberriesSome of the same things NMU students have been doing since 1899. Most of which they're doing there today.
11:02 AM comments [0]
collection #12: postage stamps
I have a collection that's over a decade old. I don't play with it anymore. Honestly, I don't know why I'm hanging on to it. I'm sure some of the stuff in there would net me a nice little bit on eBay.Maybe it's because even though I don't have anything physically to do with the stamps, I'm still reverent of their postage-ness. I still love them. But I'm not in love with them. I love the idea of them.
I just want to be friends.
It started when a neighbor gave me two huge old albums, with hundreds of stamps already hinged to the pages. Even a kid with very little pocket change can grow a stamp album, and by the time I gave the whole endeavor up in early high school, I'd nearly doubled the beginning number.
I always envied kids on t.v., who had parents who shared one of their hobbies. I wanted those parents. I want to be those parents.
10:31 AM comments [0]
storytime: the A-Frame
I've never lived in as unique an apartment as this, my first college apartment, in Marquette.I think they were meant as summer vacation cottages, originally, as they're quite near the Dead River and basin. Our cozy little cottage had heat. Just no way of keeping it inside the apartment during the winter. We got creative with the natural overabundance of snow and piled it up against the foundation as insulation.
It had a tiny loft bedroom reached by creaking metal winding staircase. The room was barely big enough for two twin mattresses on the brown shag floor.
Taking two showers of even lukewarm temperature simultaneously was impossible with the tiny one gallon water heater beneath the kitchen sink.
But that adorable porch, perfect for friends. Hearing the tall pines whispering at night. Living directly across the street from campus. Being able to play in the river basin at sunset merely by walking a block.
You just had to love it there.
10:04 AM comments [0]
new thing #11: mehndi
Just so we're all on the same page - mehndi is Indian henna body art.This whole endeavor was apparently fated to doom from the moment I opened the package. I'd ordered one with pre-made paste and a handy applicator - and got powder and tea and a set of complex instructions. No time to reorder the kit, so I rolled on regardless. I did the mixing on Friday, and thought all went fine.
I spent all evening yesterday trying to master the curlicues and flowers with the horrible little "pastry bag" applicator I was given.
This is what I have to show for hours of toil and walking around gingerly with sticky gunk on my ankle - an orange stain. Much darker orange stains on my fingers and nails. Of course.
I'm too pissed to think about trying this again anytime soon.
9:31 AM comments [1]
storytime: summers at The Camp
The Camp is a large tract of woodland, the centerpiece of which is a rustic lodge, about a half-hour drive from Escanaba. This is where I spent most of my summer and many winter Sundays as a teenager.It was a good place to get away. Lots of trails meandering off into the thick woods.
It was a bad place to get away. Lots of black bears lumbering over the trails meandering off into the thick woods.
Never a shortage of venison at The Camp, which was owned by my mom's brother's hardcore hunting Yooper inlaws. Venison sausage is good, tastes like beef sausage. Bear tastes like pork.
Dozens of glassy-eyed deer and bear staring at you from the walls while you eat their kin tastes kind of like... concentration Camp.
And you thought I was going to say chicken, didn't you?
There was always some four-wheel or snowmobile action going on at The Camp. Which our cousins very rarely let us in on.
Here's one possible reason why. Once while driving a four-wheel with my young cousin on the back, I lost control of the steering and speed, and we ended up crashing into a giant stack of lumber behind the lodge. Luckily, neither us nor the machine were damaged.
Of course that's just mere speculation on my part. I'm sure they completely trusted my driving ability after that.
9:04 AM comments [0]
collection #11: photographs
They're everywhere in our apartment. I've got a huge box, many yet to be scanned and/or placed in the album I never seem to have time for. They're on my desk, on the walls, on the baker's rack in the dining room.I'm a photomaniac. Preserving every important moment for posterity.
Sometimes much to the consternation of friends and family.
Almost every photo we've scanned or taken with the digital camera can be found in our Photo Database. It's keyword-searchable. It's huge. Darin built it, and you would make him extremely happy if you visited, searched, and viewed.
8:34 AM comments [0]
storytime: the bag
In junior high, we weren't quite up with the feminist times yet. Girls took home ec. Boys took shop. End of story. Oh sure, there were the occasional rebels. Funny rogue boys who took cooking so they could laugh it up with the girls. Tough, indifferent girls who took woodworking. But, generally, most people stuck to the stereotypes.That really was of no use in furthering my plot. Just an interesting aside. I'm beginning to babble incoherently now, I think.
Anyhow. I took a couple of semesters of sewing. I wasn't very good, but it was better than hanging out with the rowdy boys in shop.
The first semester, my mom (who loves to sew) and I made a tote bag for my sewing stuff. It was a basic heavy cream cotton, nothing interesting in the construction. But we detailed the front with buttons and patches and fancy stitches. I carried my sewing materials to school in it the second week of the semester. No one said anything about it one way or the other.
Until my English teacher, one of my favorite people in the entire world up to that point, decided to point it out to the entire class and mock it. Sure, she may have only been joking, but I was crestfallen.
I still carried the bag after that day, but discreetly and in shame. Looking back, I realize it was pretty damned hideous. But it served a purpose. It left me with this, which I can take to work with me every day:
Always try to weigh your words carefully with kids, especially the 'tweens. They're at an extremely awkward stage, and a criticism dealt the wrong way can have a very real and lasting impact.
8:02 AM comments [0]
new thing #10: hominy grits
First things first: what are grits? I certainly didn't know.According to this box, they're "white degermed ground corn." Interesting.
I bought quick grits. Because I knew by the time this hour rolled around, I wouldn't be in any mood to futz with detailed instructions or standing in front of the stove for an hour.
The judges give it a 9.5. Easy, quick, and tasty with butter. A little grainier than Malt-o-Meal, but with heartier flavor.
7:33 AM comments [0]
storytime: cruising Main
I spent my teenage years in Escanaba, Michigan. This probably means nothing to you. That's okay.Hate to sound bitter or cynical, but it didn't mean a heck of a lot to me, either [shrug]
begin Chamber of Commerce PR spot
Escanaba is a historic city of approximately 20,000 residents, perched on the sandy northern shore of Green Bay. It's a clean, community-oriented place, where families can flourish safely. Enjoy the surrounding Hiawatha National Forest. Visit the blue waters of Lake Michigan...
end spotYou get the idea.
Frankly, it was isolated and boring (not to mention an economic disaster area and generally so racially prejudiced it makes my eyes water thinking about it).
I wasn't a huge fan of cruising Main. But my best friend wanted to go, and anything was better than reruns of Hawaii Five-O on cable.
So we'd get in the little grey Renault, crank up the Def Leppard (uh-huh) or Aerosmith (am I dating myself yet?), and drive up and down Ludington Street. Stopping only for pizza at Mueller's or maybe some McJunk. And get in the car again to pass the same mulleted boys and Madonna-wanna-be girls.
Around and around and around we'd go, where we stopped was... college, thank the Goddess.
7:05 AM comments [0]
collection #10: vintage pyrex
This is my most recent love. My grandma used to have covered pyrex refrigerator dishes, and they were so much better for storing things, especially staining sauces that would destroy Tupperware or Rubbermaid.So far I've only five of these marvelous little ramekins, two turquoise, and three lemony. I'd like to get more storage-type containers.
Oven to table to fridge. Pyrex rocks.
6:32 AM comments [0]
storytime: Chicago by train
The coveted fifth and sixth-grade trips. Nearly as exciting as Christmas. Not your ordinary museum-across-town jaunts, no, these were going-places adventures. My fifth grade trip was from Milwaukee to the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry, via Amtrak. I wish one of my friends or I had had a camera. What an excellent day.We had to meet our train at the downtown station at about seven a.m. Thirty slap-happy fifth-graders accompanied by thirty bleary-eyed parents and a handful of cranky toddlers. Only a select few of those parents were lucky (cursed) enough to be travelling with us. We had a little spare time to play with, so my friends and I checked out the ladies lounge. They had the best vending machine in there. Tiny sewing kits. The standard drugs and feminine products and such. But best of all: a tiny paper checkerboard with miniscule plastic checkers, for travel. And perfect for us.
Of course we all had to sit on the second level of the train, where you get a better view, and the ride a bit more waggly. We watched the countryside, got excited when we flew past Great America, and took turns playing checkers.
The museum. Wow. I don't know what impressed me most. Stages of fetal development with real fetuses, human body slices, or Colleen Moore's Fairy Castle. I watched my friends ascend the endless metal staircase to the top of the coal mine shaft, preferring to stay earthbound.
I've been to the museum as an adult, and it was fun enough. But...
I wish I were still as easy to entertain and impress as I was at ten.
6:02 AM comments [0]
new thing #9: recording my voice for posterity
Inspired by Mena, this little recording will also prove a great lesson in humility.It took me about twenty tries to get the end result. I had to wait for Darin to go to bed to do this. It would've been too embarrassing to be witnessed by another person.
I didn't know what to say. I thought about reading something, but that seemed a little pretentious, and I'm not sure I'm capable of reading print at this point, anyhow. What with my eyes turning into burning orbs and all.
Have I always sounded that nasal? Can you catch that hint of good old Upper Michigan twang? Gawd, I'm a... dork.
But let's dispense with the self-deprecation already - here's me. You'll want to turn the volume up, I think, because all I could get was a barely audible whisper at normal.
5:32 AM comments [0]
storytime: first day of school
I was never unhappy to go back to school as a kid. The summers in Milwaukee were long and hot and uneventful. And there were always a few new clothes to wear, a new lunchbox and schoolbag, new pencils and crayons.Best of all, my mom always had a little "celebration" after school the first day. I guess to make the whole transition easier. Even though I didn't dislike school itself, there was still stress over the new teacher, new kids, and, quite often for me, an entirely new school.
So we had candies from the Woolworth's candy counter. My favorites were always those little chocolate drops with nonpareils on top (which is strange, because I can't stand the crunchiness of them now). We would choose a few days before, when we picked up any last-minute school supplies.
We would eat the candies in the kitchen while my mom baked or ironed or made dinner, and tell her about our day.
Those were some of the best days of my childhood.
5:04 AM comments [0]
collection #9: beanies
Now, before you laugh and point at me, let me defend myself.I don't collect beanies, per se. I only have three, and for very good reasons.
Beanie Number One: "Fetch" the dog.
When I worked at OU, the majority of my job involved cataloging books. Most books don't stay open easily on their own, and you need to keep them opened to the CIP (Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Print) info on the title page verso. Which is where Fetch comes in. He's a flat beanie, weighted perfectly for keeping books open without being heavy enough to damage the book. A cute little working dog. And I only had one, right?
Until Beanie Number Two came along: "Prickles" the hedgehog.
I spied him in a Beanie bargain bin at the drug store, and noted to Darin how cute he was. I didn't know he'd slipped him into the cart until I was at the register, paying for him. Damn. But two doesn't make me a real collector, right?
But then came Beanie Number Three (oh, the shame): "Crunch" the shark.
I had to buy this one. When my sister and Darin and I went out for Thanksgiving in Detroit back in '99, they had this funky shark carcass hanging in the front entryway. We had a good laugh over it, and it became kind of a "thing." So when she visited us this past Thanksgiving, I knew it wouldn't be the same without a shark. A sprig of dried flowers in his little felt teeth, and voila! a tradition is born.
So you can clearly see I'm not a collector. I can stop anytime. Don't send me copies of Beanies Today.
4:32 AM comments [0]
storytime: nmu vs. mtu
Oh, college rivalry. Good, clean fun for everyone. Or so you'd think.Michigan Technological University and Northern Michigan University (my alma mater) both have fairly strong hockey programs for mid-sized schools. And why not? They're both in the middle of the freezing wilderness. What the heck else are you going to do?
The schools are only a couple hours drive from each other. The rivalry is historic.
So is the "weekend exchange program." MTU, as a tech school, has (unfortunately) been predominantly male. NMU, with its strong business and education schools, just the opposite. You get the idea. Pass the beer and body fluids, please!
Why, then, was it necessary to resort to shirts like this:
"Friends don't let friends go to NMU"
Or cheers from the MTU section at the hockey games, when we scored a particularly juicy goal:
"That's all right, that's okay, you'll be working for us someday!"
I love geeks. I downright adore them. Heck, you might even say I am one.
But if I ever get that snotty, you have my permission to slap me. And hard.
4:02 AM comments [0]
new thing #8: wasabi peas
I was going out on a limb when I saw these babies on the store shelf. I got "roasted." I got "peas."I opened up the bag and popped one in my mouth.
Two things immediately happened:
1) I tossed down a chaser of Jennie's 2 a.m. All-Nighter Java Blend®
2) Any torpor flew out of my body. Woo-freakin'-HOO! I feel like a new woman!
The first one threw me, maybe because I wasn't expecting it to be that spicy. It actually burned my nostrils a wee bit. Subsequent peas haven't exhibited the same burn. Gustatory fatigue, perhaps?
I wonder if you can get the roasted peas sans wasabi? Those might be good. Pea peas.
Somebody stop me. Please.
I don't really like them, but I find myself popping one after the other into my mouth, regardless. Kind of like "Silver Spoons" reruns.
3:33 AM comments [0]
storytime: shorty
I was short. Always the shortest in my class in elementary school. I couldn't reach most kitchen sinks when other kids were getting good at basketball. My theory has always been that the energy that should have been going into growing me went into growing my hair.Sure wish it worked that way with extra pounds today.
Ahem. Anyhow.
Did they do this at your school? Did they make you line up by height? I was forever in front of the line, which I detest. I hate leading, being first.
Being a leader of one is fine.
I never had a problem with being short, aside from the not-able-to-reach-anything syndrome.
Well, I hit my growth spurt in early high school, and am now a fairly average 5'4". Sometimes I think it'd be nice to have a higher view, be a little more imposing. This would come in quite handy with the pre-teen set at work. Some of them are taller than I am, which can be unsettling.
Which is why I've developed the Patented Death Stare®. Yours through this special offer for just $19.95 plus shipping and handling.
Woo. Is it late, or what?
3:01 AM comments [0]
collection #8: Victorian ornaments
More accurately, Victorian-style ornaments. I'm not wealthy enough to buy expensive glass toys for my cats.I try to collect at least a couple new ones every year. We've been on a bird kick lately. We like birds. We've even been crafty and made a few of our own.
I've had small Christmas trees nearly as long as I've had an apartment. I'm so very lucky to be with someone who appreciates the whole tree-dition as much as I do. Sorry, but I hadn't got a good pun in all night, and it's like two in the morning, and I had to eat sardines, so, for the love of GAWD PLEEEEAASE let me have this one little thing, will you?!?
Sorry about that. It's not you. It's me. Onwards, then.
Here's this year's tree. And last year's tree. And the year before that. And some other smaller, tackier year. And a giant tree that's not ours (Henry Ford Museum in Detroit, actually), but looks good, so I threw it in.Christmas trees. They're all good.
2:35 AM comments [0]
storytime: backyard summers
We didn't watch TV as kids. We didn't have Nintendo. Pong, but, let's face it, you can only hack that so many minutes a day.All summer long, we played outside. We had a nice little maple tree, under which we'd set up a card table, play Monopoly/Sorry!/checkers/dominoes/Life/Connect Four, and drink Kool Aid.
Or we'd string up old blankets and quilts over the clotheslines for a cozy tent. There we'd set up housekeeping or play Barbies for hours.
The neighborhood was full of boys to torture us. My sister, braver than I, would torture them right back. Sometimes we'd ally ourselves with one group or another, the peace treaties between them in a constant state of flux. The inedible tree fruits in our neighborhood made excellent ammunition.
There was always rollerskating in the uneven, oil-stained parking lot. I still have a scar on my left knee from a particularly nasty spill.
A mean old lady lived at the end of our building. Of course it was our duty to make as much noise near her apartment as possible. When our parents weren't looking.
Sometimes in the late summer evenings, if we were allowed to stay out that late, we'd lay on a blanket on the small slope near the tree, and stare up at whatever stars were visible through the city lights.
The good old lazy days of summer :-)
2:02 AM comments [0]
new thing #7: sardines
Mmmm. Teeny greasy fishies.But this whole exercise tonight is about keeping an open mind.
Those fishies were really greasy. And smelly. The cats were in rapture over the smell.
I was not. Even toyed with the notion of not eating them. But I ventured bravely on, picked up a fork, and...
...not too bad. The flavor was somewhat akin to smoked tuna. I drained the rest and put it in the fridge.
Anybody have any sardine recipes?
1:32 AM comments [0]
storytime: meteor shower
Marquette, Michigan is one of the most beautiful places in the continental US to live.According to Guiness, it's also the coldest. And the snowiest. Which is why, aside from the dismal economy, I'm not there today.
One of the things I miss most about Marquette is the brilliant night sky. The air is clear and cold, and there aren't billions of lights screwing up the view.
Back in 1995 or '96, there a giant meteor shower was predicted. So, that night, families brought their blankets to every available beach and camped out to watch the skies.
It turned out, we were in for a much more spectacular show than just the meteors.
The aurora, or northern lights, made a dazzling appearance, dancing with the meteors across the blue in purples, greens, and pinks. As if that weren't breathtaking enough, the moon grew large and clear and red. All was reflected in the strangely still water of Lake Superior.
I'm sure I'll never forget that wonderful night on the beach. I'll consider myself lucky to see anything like it again.
1:03 AM comments [2]
collection #7: snowman
When I saw Raymond Briggs' The Snowman, a much-lauded half-hour British animation, I fell in love. The artistry. The music. And that adorable Snowman, ten times cuter than Frosty!Darin got me this one Christmas, and it was the beginning of a mini-collection. I've got a couple books, the video, and a lovely snowglobe.
12:35 AM comments [0]
storytime: 45s
We didn't have a monster stereo system at our house when I was small. Not even a boombox. We had a little olive-green clock radio (mono!) in the kitchen. I didn't get my transistor until I was ten, and boombox (still mono!) until I was twelve.It never mattered. The record player was far more fun.
My mom had a huge collection of 45s, which we would beg her to bring out on weekends. When she broke down, it was party time at our house! All those fun old singles. Of course, being an egocentric kid, one of my favorites was "Poor Jenny" by the Everly Brothers. "Snoopy vs. the Red Baron" was another. Some of the records were colored, clear red or blue or orange. I had fun arranging them by record label (figures!). We'd take turns making requests, and then dance around on the living room shag like dervishes.
It's just not the same with CDs...
12:05 AM comments [0]
new thing #6: Nosferatu
Heard about this silent classic over the years. Even saw Shadow of the Vampire, about Murnau's filming of Nosferatu, a few weeks back. Malkovich and Dafoe - recommend it.Anyhow, Nosferatu. Pretty amazing, considering it was filmed in 1922. The DVD I got gave you the choice of a tradition organ score, or the modern Silent Orchestra. I watched it with the latter, and didn't think it detracted anything from the film as some had warned. The over-acting in silents gets to me quickly, even though I see the necessity. It was only a minor detraction from the prevalent creepiness. For some reason, the ship scenes really made me shiver.
I can see why this is a classic. Go rent the DVD.
11:33 PM comments [0]
storytime: butterfly
One of my collections that never really took off: butterflies. My parents got me a collecting kit one Christmas. A neat wood case with a net, magnifying glass, pins, collecting guide, etc.There weren't too many exciting species in our urban neighborhood. But it was easy to find dozens of common small white and butter-colored butterflies, and dull moths. My little biologist wannabe mind had no problem putting these in a killing jar and pinning them to a board above a tag with their scientific names.
One evening, one of our elderly neighbors, who knew of my little hobby, brought me a present - the biggest, most beautiful moth I'd ever seen. A wingspan of about seven inches, in greens and blues. And, according to my book, not a native. A tropical species, who may travelled to Milwaukee by boat.
It was magnificent, but dying. And I knew I couldn't bring myself to kill it. I wanted to make it live. And cried when it didn't.
I didn't collect butterflies after that night.
11:07 PM comments [0]
collection #6: powerpuff
I've admitted this before - I'm a Powerpuff addict. I just love those girls, especially Bubbles. They're a little bit animé, and a little bit kicka** rock n' roll.I collect PpG stuff, generally only that I can use. Pencils, mousepads, notepads, calendars. My one nod to cutesy uselessness are my little "bean pals" of all three girls and Mojo Jojo. Mojo's my favorite, because he talks - "I will give the commands, and you will obey them!" He even has a detachable brain cap.
10:34 PM comments [0]
storytime: grandpa's table
My Grandpa made things. Cabinets, wardrobes, shelves. He wasn't a master carpenter, but he made every piece with love.Here'sthe tiny table and chair set he made for me.
Before varnishing the top, he put tiny gold alphabet and number decals around the edges.
I had countless tea parties on this table. Colored, played games, ate snacks at it. The chairs, when turned on their backs, made an excellent train, all in a line. My stuffed animals and I would ride the rails in the living room while my mom washed the kitchen floor.
When we moved to Michigan, the set stayed with a family with young children. I hope they got even half the enjoyment out of it that my sister and I did.
10:02 PM comments [0]
new thing #5: mango
I was really going for persimmon, but couldn't find one. Couldn't find much in the way of exotic fruit, so the iffy-looking mangoes had to do. I've had mango-flavored stuff before, but never the fruit itself.I think I'd have liked the taste if the flesh hadn't been so stringy and tough. The book said that's because it had been picked too early.
For living in such a highly agricultural area, it sure is difficult to find good produce!
9:31 PM comments [0]
storytime: favorite childhood toys
One of the benefits of a typical American childhood is the typical commercial American Christmas. My family was far from rich, but my mom enjoyed the whole spectacle of the holidays, and usually took it to the extreme. The entire house was decorated - walls, windows, strand after strand of lights, the antique German miniature tree with its accompaniment of miniature houses and miniature reindeer. There were always days and days of holiday cookies.And then, at the end of it all: the toys. My sister and I were never without a giant pile each, even well after we stopped believing in Santa.
Some of my all-time favorites, any of which I'd kept would have brought me big bucks on eBay:
My pink Huffy bike. The girliest thing on wheels, with a puffy pink seat, pink and white streamers, and a pink and white frame. It made me so incredibly happy to be able to finally ditch those Big Wheels.The Easy Bake oven, a nice yellow and brown early-eighties model. I was still too young to realize exactly how disgusting those little jawbreaker cakes were. I remember how proud my sister and I were when we presented my dad with a layer cake that we slaved over in the basement for an entire birthday morning. Now I understand his somewhat strained smile in the family photos from that day...
The Snoopy Sno-Cone machine. I begged and begged for this one, but my mom pronounced it too much of a mess after we'd used it once. [note to self: make sure future kids have latex-coated area that can be hosed down at their disposal]
Lite Brite! This occupied so many dark, snowed-in Milwaukee days. I thought the pre-drawn designs were lame and used black construction paper.
Bare butt baby doll, for lack of a better name. This doll was so realistic. The right size and weight, with a smushy newborn face and downy brown hair. Best of all - a "trapdoor" over her little baby tushie. I still have this. My mom packed it away with some other things when I went to college, and I just kept it over the years.
The pressboard kitchen set. It had photographs of pots and pans and a spice rack on the back "wall" above the "sink" and "stove." Stocked with plastic milk bottles, hot dogs, eggs, and dishes, it was excellent early training for domestic goddesshood.
My olive green Barbie camper. I don't think this lasted long, as the rolled metal sported some lethally-sharp edges, and my parents took it away at some point. Amazing how many of these can still be found on eBay.
And, lastly, the favorite: Bear. Never saw a reason to give him a name other than that, I guess, since he was the only teddy I had as a kid. I got him when I was three. He's held up amazingly well all these years, for all the drool and dragging about he's been put through. He's had several nose transplants, and stitches galore.
9:03 PM comments [0]
collection #5: books!
It's my job. It's my obsession. It's the one thing I've been collecting since I could sit up: books.There's a giant bookshelf in the office. There's a small, crowded one in the dining room. We've even got an "overflow" cabinet beneath our printer/copier/scanner. Not to mention the ones stashed away on desks, in the bedroom nightstands, on endtables.
You'd think I didn't have my own roomful at work.
8:32 PM comments [0]
storytime: tonsils
I was sick a lot as a very small kid. In and out of the hospital. I must've gotten it all out of my system, because I've only been to the hospital once since I was seven. And that only for outpatient surgery.I had my tonsils out when I was only four. I don't remember being in any pain. It's the endless stream of popsicles, the huge playroom, the cards my kindergarten classmates made and sent. I was thrilled that I received a menu to choose from before each meal. I could even read most of it by that time.
I was already sick to death of needles when a technician strolled in with his instruments of torture. I begged, pleaded, cried - anything to turn his evil heart against poking yet another hole in my arm. In the end, even bargaining didn't work: "How about you just poke my finger? See, you can get blood here, they did it before!"
I devoured the attention. I was tiny and precocious, and irresistable to the nurses and orderlies.
I'm sure any future visits to the hospital won't be nearly as exciting.
8:05 PM comments [0]
new thing #4: slut red lipstick
I'm not heavy into makeup. I just don't like the feel of it on my face. I hate dealing with it in the morning. I usually wear my powder, a little blush, and some lip gloss. As little as possible.I especially hate lipstick. It's messy, and when the wind is blowing, my long hair inevitably gets stuck in it. My skin is light, and I think it makes me look like a whore. So no red-red color has ever touched my lips.
Until today.
I went cheap. Because - now really - how often am I going to wear a shade named "Poppy Fields?"
I suppose it wasn't so bad...
7:34 PM comments [0]
storytime: Milwaukee townhome
I wish I had pictures of our little two-bedroom townhome in Milwaukee to share. It was truly a shrine to everything seventies.My dad was a Vietnam veteran, which is why we were able to live in this particular rent-subsidized complex. It seemed huge to me as a kid, but I'm sure now that it didn't have more than a hundred units.
Pretty simple - basement, kitchen/dining area, living room, two small bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Tiny postage-stamp yard in the back.
My mom was fairly crafty, and painted the basement walls with Disney Pooh characters. Our very own 100-Aker Wood. Carpeted and right next to the furnace, it made a nice playroom even in the dead of winter.
When we moved in, we found that the previous tenants had painted one bedroom black, and the bathroom a violent violet. The other bedroom, however, was dark blue with hand-painted Peanuts characters. My sister and I were absolutely ecstatic about that.
The living room carpeting was of course orange shag. It coordinated well with the olive green couch and gold macrame plant hangers.
In the kitchen lived the ubiquitous pea green appliances. Yay seventies!
We moved away to Escanaba, Michigan when I was eleven. I visited it a few years back. Not much had changed, aside from small necessary updates to things like windows, doors, rooftops. Everything looked so miniscule. How did a family of four ever manage in that tiny space?
7:02 PM comments [0]
collection #4: demitasses
I love coffee. When my mom bought me a little espresso/cappuccino machine a couple of years back, I was thrilled. But also without the proper size cups from which to sip the strong stuff.Enter eBay. I have a couple fine porcelain antiques, pictured here. Nothing so extraordinary that I'm afraid to use them, but not what you'd find at Target, either.
I hope to create a real collection when we get a house and room to display them away from one dozen destructive kitty paws.
6:32 PM comments [0]
storytime: driving lessons
When my Grandpa died, our house became carless. My Grandma had never learned to drive, and my mom was still having grand mal seizures because of the large tumor in the base of her brain, and couldn't safely drive. And I was only thirteen.So, when I was fifteen and ready to take driver's ed, I had no one to practice with me.
All my classmates were thrilled when the time came to sign up for time in the car with the teacher. Not me. The times were assigned in order of the accumulated test scores over the semester. And of course, being the excellent little hyper-academic geek I was, I'd received the second-highest score in the class. Woo.
It was me, the teacher, Bill (who would later, through completely unrelated events, become one of my best friends), and another girl. All trapped together in that rolling deathtrap.
When my turn came, I thought I would pass out from sheer terror. I hit almost every cone in the parking lot. I nearly mowed down a little kid on a bike. If I hadn't been nearly paralyzed, I probably would've broken down and bawled.
I finally overcame the trauma out of sheer necessity in college. Now I can actually enjoy getting behind the wheel.
At least, almost.
6:04 PM comments [0]
new thing #3: tarot
I don't know that I believe that horoscopes and tarot readings and the like have any real significance, other than what you give them. But I don't entirely disbelieve, either. Guess I'm a mystic-agnostic.So I thought I'd give tarot a whirl. Since I don't have a deck, it seemed like an online reading would serve the purpose just as well.
About a week ago, I came home to find a message on my machine from the HR department at the Public Library. About a job opportunity. This from the same people who had brushed me off quite insultingly several months back. I didn't bother to call back, as I'd long since decided I was much better off in my current position.
But, still, little pricks of doubt have surfaced. Should I have called? What would it have hurt, really?
Let's ask the cards!
Here was my answer.
I read the explanations of each card. The meaning of one card would completely contradict that of another card, and so on, and so forth, even if I got creative with the meanings. Leaving me no wiser than when I began.
I think I'll stick to Johnathan Cainer.
5:34 PM comments [0]
storytime: death by patent leather
I'm no ballerina. I'm always whacking some extremity or other into furniture, doors, or anything that prodtrudes even a little from anything else. Dancing? Not gonna happen in this lifetime.When I was very small, my mom preferred me in dresses. As a kindergartener, I didn't really care one way or the other. But with those dresses: shiny, black, buckled patent-leather shoes. Essentially a pump for the four-year-old set.
With, like your typical pump, absolutely no traction.
I remember the day that wearing these shoes as a matter of course came to an abrupt end.
I attended afternoon kindergarten. We'd just finished lunch. My mom wanted me to get something from the basement for her. Something from the basement, reached by shiny varnished wood stairs.
You may be able to see where this is going.
About halfway down the stairs, my little shoes suddenly lost their grip on the gloss, and down I went. Conking my head against each step on the way down.
There were the requisite tears, of course, but those dried quickly enough, and so off to school I went.
We had an open activity time. I was playing with the felt board. Didn't you just love those things? I made one a couple of years ago for some young Russian adoptee friends of mine. Didn't give it to them until I'd played with it myself a bit, first.
Anyhow. Suddenly, the room began to spin, and so did my stomach. Commence with the projectile vomiting. My poor, poor teacher and her poor dress. My parents were called, and I was rushed to the emergency room. Where I was pronounced to have suffered a severe concussion. I wanted to sleep so badly, but I was forced to sit in that overbright room, my father poking me in the arm every time I nodded off. At the time, I'm sure a coma seemed preferable.
I still don't often wear dress shoes today.
5:05 PM comments [0]
collection #3: state quarters
It's like a treasure hunt every day, for the next eight years. I used to pay in exact change, but now I pay to maximize the quarter returns.Here's my collection so far. Yes, I bought a special pocketed binder to house and organize them. Yes, I'm a librarian :-)
4:35 PM comments [0]
storytime: Red Wings Championship Parade
I'd only been in Detroit a few months when the Wings brought home their first Stanley. Neat, because hockey is the only sport I can stomach, and this only because I went to a school with a championship team where attendance at games was practically mandatory. I'm really not a violent person. It's all about the ice.Anyhow, my boss at the time had two providential characteristics:
1) She adored, nay - worshipped, the Red Wings, having grown up in metro Detroit.
2) She was amazingly laid-back.
So, on the big Parade Day, she gathered me and another puck-partial coworker into her beater car, and down I-75 we sputtered. Luckily, we arrived early enough to find some nice side-street parking a mere four blocks from the parade route.
This was the largest parade I've ever attended. It was hot and crowded, but finally, a couple of hours later, it all paid off, and we got to see The Cup, in all its glittery glory.
Oh, and the players, too.
About halfway home, the car dramatically shuddered and died. Then, not even five minutes later, an even junkier car pooped out mere yards in front of us. There we were, all five of us, waiting in the blistery sun at the side of the busiest interstate in Detroit, for two tow trucks to fetch us.
By the time we got back to the library, I was never so happy to see my icy basement desk.
4:03 PM comments [0]
new thing #2: Russian radio immersion hour
I'm kind of a Russophile, interested in all things Russian culture. I hope to travel, someday, to Moscow, St. Petersburg, and places rural.But I've never really heard Russian popular music. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before, I listen to my favorite Detroit station on the internet all the time. So I set out in search of Russian stations offering streaming audio. More difficult than you'd think! I ran into many broken links and stations offering just talk.
Finally, I found 101.ru, Russian Internet Radio. Think eighties easy-listening station. Think along the lines of John Denver, Anne Murray, Gordon Lightfoot. Only folksier. It thrilled the heck out of Darin.
I've run out of time to find any alternatives, but I will, eventually, find out what young people in Russia are really listening to.
3:41 PM comments [0]
storytime: seeing double
Even though we were born nearly four years apart, my sister Becky and I were often mistaken for twins after she caught up to me height-wise. We look alike, I think, in a "we're related" sort of way, but I never thought us as anything akin to twins.I remember one day in particular, when we were hanging out at the mall. We'd just rounded the corner of the Woolworth's cheap cosmetics aisle, when we nearly ran into this hee-yuge mountain of a man and his large family.
His response? Not "pardon me." Not even "watch where you're going!!!" Nope...
"Holy s**t! I'm seeing double!"
Of course, this kind of custom dressing, courtesy our mother, may have had just a little to do with the mistaken identity...
3:04 PM comments [0]
collection #2: toy movie viewers
eBay is guilty of aiding and abetting many of my vices, not the least of which has been my toy movie viewer collection. It all began when I spotted a Fisher-Price Cartoon Viewer up on the block, and flashbacked. I never had one myself, but when I was sequestered in the Children's Hospital for the malady du jour, I found it in the playroom and immediately fell in love. It was a pretty popular toy in the seventies, but I never saw one again. And completely forgot about it.That is, until eBay came along. And I've been collecting movie viewer toys since, though my purchases have been on the wane with that of my fun-money flow.
This is my entire collection. And, oops - here's one I left out of the first shot. I've been promising myself an online database to organize everything, but keep running out of steam in the face of other more pressing projects.
2:34 PM comments [0]
storytime: down the window well
I was very small for my age until high school. Tiny, skinny. My sister, nearly four years younger, managed to catch up with me by the time she was seven or eight.In our Milwaukee townhome, the basement windows were entirely below ground, peeking up from corrugated metal window wells with heavy hinged grates on top. My size made me the perfect candidate to be lowered into the wells of our elderly neighbors, to remove leaves and paper and such that had blown in.
An important note before I go on: I was extremely claustrophobic. The kind of claustrophobia that had me screaming at the top of my lungs in sheer terror when the boys locked a classmate and I in the hall washroom where we'd been rinsing our paintbrushes. Closets scared me. The phobia evaporated with time, though the thought of ever having an MRI makes me twitchy, and being buried alive is my greatest secret fear.
So the window wells, close and buggy, were not my very favorite places to spend an afternoon. But I carried on at the insistence of my mother.
Until the day a grate crashed down on my head. It wasn't the pain, though, that had me completely berserk within seconds (I only sustained a tiny bump).
All I could think, see, comprehend, was: trapped. The fear was very real, if unfounded, because I can still remember it, crystalline-sharp, now. I can fortunately say that I haven't felt that magnitude of panic since.
2:04 PM comments [0]
new thing #1: pico diana
This all started with the Ultimate Bad Candy site, of which Darin and I both became fans last fall. Right before Christmas, I spied this at WalMart. I thought it'd make the perfect gag stocking gift - literally. Pepper candy? Ewwww.It got the response I was looking for, but Darin never got brave enough to try it, so now the gag's on me.
Actually, it wasn't that bad. The peppery taste wasn't strong enough to be truly offensive. It's basically a bland, pepper-infused large-grained sugar.
I'll probably pass it out at school. The kids'll eat anything with sugar.
I have to apologize now for the quality of any photos I'll be posting today. Anything we shoot indoors, no matter how many windows we've got open, ends up blurry beyond belief. But at least you'll get the general impression...
1:34 PM comments [0]
storytime: snack desperation
a - In Michigan, there's a 10-cent refund on recyclable cans and bottles.b - People often abandon these potential dimes.
c - The economy in the Upper Peninsula in the early 90's was tough (so harsh, in fact, that I once competed with 99 other applicants for a job at McDonald's. Truth!).
d - When you're in college, you must have snacks.
e - When you're in college, it helps if you have no shame.
a + b + c + d + e = cans for cookies!
My freshman roommate and I were often short on pocket change. One of our favorite things to do around midnight was hike the two miles to EconoFoods to buy cookies or whatever else we happened to be craving at the time. Not to worry - this was a fairly safe venture in the remote college town of Marquette. Armed with a plastic bag and sharp eyes, we could always count on collecting enough cans to get adequate snackage for the evening.
Just don't tell our mothers. They wouldn't understand.
1:02 PM comments [0]
collection #1: postcards
I've been collecting postcards since I was a kid. The fascination began when my grandparents started travelling the country by car, sending postcards from well-known landmarks. My family wasn't able to do much roaming, so the mystique of places outside the Midwest became an ever-growing draw. I've kept all the cards sent by friends and relatives, and make sure to pick up one or two whenever I'm fortunate enough to take a trip.This is my entire collection. The picturesque, the cute - and the downright tacky. I'll be compiling an album one of these days (the whole lot has lived in a plastic envelope so far!)
12:32 PM comments [0]
hey and welcome!
I hope you'll find at least a little entertainment here in the next twenty-four hours. Me not being Jerry Lewis notwithstanding.There'll be three main types of entry here tonight, aside from random comments:
1) On the hour, a story. Stories from my life. Which I'll supplement with photos, where possible.
2) On the alternating half-hour, I'll be trying something new, something I promise I've never ever done/tasted/seen/heard before. Nothing ultra-exciting, as I'm confined by time and the length of a network cable. I'll post my impressions and photos afterwards.
3) I'm a packrat, so, on the other alternate half-hour, I'll share my collections. Some old, some barely begun but with big plans.
Check out the spinningCam. Drop me an Instant Message or a comment or two - it might get quiet in the wee hours of the morning! And, no pressure, but you can still sponsor me if you want! :-)
And visit the other bloggers, using the ring graphic above. If you find someone blogging for a cause that's near and dear to your heart, please consider donating!
12:02 PM comments [2]
