I think it's kind of funny that some people only really believe in fate when something either really great or very tragic happens in their lives. As for me, I'm going to believe in fate now, when I'm content but not over or under the moon about my life, just to show all those people that fate can mean that ordinary things do happen to you for a reason.
I used to have this french babysitter growing up that I detested. She smelled like spinach and mushrooms (both of which I tolerate today but hated then) and would always say I cheated because I beat her in every board game we ever played. I've always been unnaturally gifted at Monopoly, she just didn't know what she was getting herself into. She would get so mad at my "cheating" that she'd yell at me in french and run to the bathroom, slam the door and cry, really loudly too, she didn't even try to hide it. I made up this story about how she was in love with some Jersey boy she had had an affair with in France. He captured her heart and brought it (along with the rest of her) back to the US only to break it (just her heart, not the rest of her) when, one quiet evening at home, the two sat down to a game of Monopoly. He whispered in ear, "If you win this game, I'll marry you!" Her eyes popped, she planned every move to the T, but when she hit Park Avenue with his huge plaza of a hotel, she was bankrupt, she'd lost. Then he ran out and married someone younger, prettier and a thousands times less bitchier than her. I would feel sorry for her except one time she punished me by dropping a beehive on me when she knew I was allergic to bees. Yeah, I hated her.
I always write something and then reread it, it’s just sort of second nature now. In rereading it, I almost always find a word that I think is spelled wrong. I write out all the possible ways I could spell it, and then once I’ve finally found what I think is right, I don’t even feel like that word makes sense in the sentence anymore. What had I been trying to say? What was I actually saying? I blame this on my creative writing teacher I had back in high school that I had a sort of love/hate relationship with. He reminded me of DPS’s Mr. Keating, and I loved him in that respect, but he hated people if they ever missed deadlines, or if their writing didn’t meet his expectations. I was always late, and am pretty sure I almost always disappointed. I still feel bad for that. Well anyway, one day, after our morning meditation (yes, we did that), he randomly said, “bark.” Then he said it again, and again, and again, and again and another 9 or 10 more and again’s until we stopped looking at him like he was crazy and looked at each other like we were the biggest idiots on face of the earth. Somewhere after one “bark,” but before another, the word had lost its meaning. The harder I pushed myself to get out all the gunk in my brain, leaving space for only that word’s meaning, the more feeble minded I felt. I’d lost a simple solitary word from my vocabulary...What did it mean?...Why did my parents let me take this class?!
I really don’t like Dolly Parton. It makes me mad that whenever I turn on the radio, there she is, singing Sleigh Ride. It's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with Dolly (as long as I know I can jump out just before the sleigh goes flying down the hill and into a tree)...Well, maybe my hatred isn't that extreme, maybe...102.7 needs to cut it out though!
Remember how in choir, Dr. Jordan would sometimes tell us to pretend we were pulling noodles out of our noses to get the sound more forward? Well, now whenever I eat too much, like I will tonight no doubt, I feel like my insides turn into noodles. Or, you know that little old lady in Patch Adams who wants to swim in a big tub of noodles? Sometimes I feel like instead of a brain, I just have this old lady screaming of pure joy, jumping around in a tub of noodles...It's quite distracting sometimes, actually.
I can successfully sing AND play “A Way Back To Then!”...Now I’m working on some guitar stuff, so we’ll see what happens with that. There are so many folk singer/songwriters I admire, I wish I could write or play like them!...I don't need to do both, but just to be bangin at one would be cool :)
I miss skip-it’s a lot, oh, and chinese jump ropes!...those were fun.
My sisters and I used to have fake weddings. I was never getting married, you know, always a bridesmaid, never a bride, thank god. It was always Julia, because her pre-school crush, Lucas, moved away leaving her devastated. So, Julia married her bear, also known as Nosey-Nose. Mary would be the priest and unite them in holy macaroni, while I’d sulk behind Julia, holding her vail, hating to have to be part of this annual event (that I think would still continue today had nosey-nose not gotten misplaced at some point over the years)...more to come on this later.
I think I'm going to start collecting pez.
To me, it isn’t Christmas if there isn’t snow on the ground, and I don’t get goosebumps from hearing Judy Garland singing Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas in Meet Me in St. Louis...Well, at least it’s halfly Christmas? There may be no snow, but I got new headshots as a gift, so I’m a pretty happy lady :) Oh, and I got a really nice hippy bag with elephants on it, that also made me very happy!
How come it never snows anymore in Baltimore on Christmas???
Dear Santa,
For Christmas I want new trolls and a new mom.
Thanks,
nameless sister, (1991)
Sorry, this was neither heartfelt nor inspiring, but I just said what was on my mind.
Oh well Happy Hanukah / Merry Christmas / Happy all other holidays you might celebrate / Happy Decemeber 25th to all!!
Here are some pictures from 34th street in Hampden, MD (miracle on 34th street, kind of?). There are few Baltimore traditions I really appreciate, but this one along with Artscape, is one of my favorites. I love the hubcap tree!
