Oh, wouldn’t I look smart in my new floral, lightly quilted, Guinnea Sax dress and ivory blouse! The thin silk ribbon under my collar tied so prettily… Real leather open-toe sandals with cuffed socks actually MATCH MY BLOUSE… Eleven years old and I just knew I already had the world by the shanks. THE SHANKS.
First Picture Day at my new school was going to change everything! Sure, I spend nights in bed carefully drawing miniature Black Stallions in the margin of my diary. And sure, I rarely brushed my stick-straight blonde, center-parted, mom-cut hair. But I was pretty sure I looked like Sissy Spacek, circa 1973.With backpack securely fastened over both shoulders, I proudly marched through the alley-entrance onto the school playground/parking lot.
WHAT’S THIS?! The girls/my classmates are wearing Guess Jeans and white t-shirts!My heart sank.
And they burst out laughing at the very site of me!HOW COULD THEY?! THE AGONY! Thank God my call home from the nurses office only resulted in my mom coaxing me to stay at school long enough to have my picture taken, otherwise there wouldn’t be this evidence. THANK GOD.
~Dedicated to the cool kids~…And someday I’d enact my telekinetic revenge…
Discovering Instacart might change my life.These modern services enable my dwindling desire to engage with the outside world.
IN JANUARY. IN MINNESOTA.
And why should I leave my house when Millie the Dog is learning to speak Human?
If only the shop were actually connected to my house.Just look at that commute! Ridiculous.
Or… inspiring? It must be inspiring because I made this.
January has already been SO busy. I don’t know about Jen, but I’ve had to take a really active role as a listener/watcher.
First this: (Sherlock!)
And then this: (Serial Podcast: season 2!)
And now THIS?? (Making A Murderer, brought to you by the good folks at Netflix and Men’s Wearhouse!)
It’s a lot to keep track of… I’m taking notes if anyone needs them.
Don’t ask me how (DON’T ASK ME), but I was able to squeeze in one card:
I’m pretty sure it was our Jewish neighbor (and not Santa Claus) who put our presents under the tree when we were at Midnight Mass.
I got a globe.But I barely remember that! I barely remember crying and sulking in my bedroom! Because this was the Lord’s day, not mine!
Merry Christmastime, everyone!
If only they would stop their playing and look over at me… Why is MY friend even playing with my stupid brother???… Maybe if I wave my arms and jump higher on this strangely super-tall bed in our basement… No, that didn’t work… Hold on… I’ll just climb down and drag over that chalkboard to lay flat on the floor because it looks more like water than the off-brown linoleum… Perfect… Now, I’ll roll over the large black, rubber inner-tube we float on at the lake… Just plop it right on top of the chalkboard… Looking good… Ok… NOW, I’ll climb back up on the bed and jump some more…
“LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!”
I hysterically scream, while diving face-first into the center of the inner-tube.So much blood. So many tears. And my friend was sent home??? WHY MOM, WHY?!
Thank you, Religion News Service, for appreciating the ho-ho-Holiday-humdrum-hole-filling. And thank you, Dinah the Cat, for understanding the true meaning of Christmas.And you’re right, you should be in the new Christmas card.
Oh, No Coast Craft-o-Rama… You never let us down! The Midtown Market’s halls were decked and bedazzled with all things Holiday… And handmade goodness was traded for cold-hard-cash.
The Zeichen Press Empire is always draped in black fabric because black is slimming.
Here’s a new Christmas card/fantasy?:
The No Coast Craft-O-Rama is TODAY and tomorrow (December 4th and 5th) and Jen has been feverishly printing in preparation.
She must have been too busy to notice my new woodpile!Come see all of the Holiday Goodies at the Midtown Global Market today — Jen will be giving out free hugs with every purchase!
Once Upon A Time, my sister got the stomach flu so bad. Poor thing… up in the middle of the night… every bit of food evacuating her body post-haste. Who knew the colon could churn and transform loose stool into clear liquid? Well, my brother found out when he sleep-stumbled into the bathroom and slipped and skated on the translucent trots that never made it into the toilet-bowl.
See? Analogy. Our gratitude just pours out of us! It’s almost like a medical condition.
To “give back”, we are hosting Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade!