The first week of July is always my favorite time of the year... Duh, it's my Birthday week!! But, besides that it just holds the bestest of all my memories from the past.
One of my all time favorite memories is of just me and my mom driving to the beach and blasting this song over and over on the radio... (homemade cassette tapes were the bomb in 1983!!) This song in particular was one of her all time favorites... This is MY favorite version, but she used to listen to the Johnny Nash Version. Regardless, the song is just the happiest of songs and if it doesn't SCREAM summer, I don't know what does!!
My cousin, Christopher has up and moved to France. Genius idea, I tell ya! He did his research and figured out a way to move there, work for his room and board and learn a new trade all at the same time. I begged his mom, my aunt to encourage him to start a blog, selfishly of course because I wanted to follow along on his adventure. And since he's a writer, of course he started a blog. Win Win.
So go... He's adventurous, witty, and loves to take pictures. What else could you ask for? Ancona's Dreams...
*I advise you to go all the way back to the beginning to get caught up and understand why he decided to do this, and how it all came to be... Most of the entries so far are quick and to the point, so it shouldn't take to long too get caught up!!
Back (way back) in July I spent an entire day with 5 kids under the age of 16. That is 5. (FIVE!) I went from having no kids in my presence to having all FIVE of them at once. Without going into too much detail, let's just say that there is a man out there who goes by the name of "Grandpa" who got it in his (unstable) mind that he wanted to take all 5 of his Grandkids on a cross-country road trip in an RV this summer. 4 weeks of bliss for all 6 of them. He had visions of monuments, state lines, campfires, silence, posed photos in front of the Grand Canyon, neat and orderly RV living, the TP to flow over, not under, etc., etc., etc.
What he got was; 4 girls, 2 of whom wanted nothing more than to be reading their books or their cellphone's, or watching you-tube videos to keep their minds occupied and distracted enough to ease the pain that there was not to be any hot-boys on the RV, (and not much chance to meet any hot boys either seeing as Grandpa had something to say about their wardrobe each and every day when they tried to wear a one shoulder'd little number. oh well) and the other 2 girls who like to wear sunglasses, giggle a lot and not provide the silence he so craved. And there was also the 1 boy who liked to hide things, like the laundry money, and Grandpa's megaphone, not to mention purposely make the TP roll under and not over. Are you getting my drift..? This was not a match made in heaven and by the time I "took over" for the day, these kids had had enough. Enough of the RV, enough of the state line's and especially enough of ole' Grandpa.
But once I "took over" the fun really began!! I mean, that was my job right? To swoop in, fill 'em up with sugar, let them run around the beach, ooogle at hot boys,(well, only the two teen girls, duh.) play video games, eat pizza, and cotton candy, jump for joy, listen to the car radio on full blast and just spazz out to the max. And you know what? That is just what we they did.
Best. Day. Ever.
And even though my face hurt the next day from all the laughing, I really really really want them to come back again next year!
If you'd like to see the whole set check it out over here...
(but only if you're not a perv. If you're a perv trying to look at bikini's, then you should go elsewhere. Stupid pervs.)
PS... The Pervs ignored my warning and seemed to come here just to look at all the bikini's, so I had to remove the photos. Ahhhnoying. Pervs are groce.
Okay, so I've been just a bit busy handling my business summer... I guess you could say, "I'm making the summer of oh-eleven my bitch..!" That's right.
So far......... I've been to the beach, had a visitor, celebrated my 29th, er 47th birthday at a casino, ridden a moped, and eaten enough Subway sandwiches to push them right into having one of their best fiscal year's they've seen in a long time. And all of it has given me more than enough smiles to make up for last year (ugh) and to last me right into next year...
First up, the nephew visits... He came home for a few weeks to celebrate his graduation from college as well as prepare to take on his real life (job) upon his return to NYC. On our first night we made lots of snacks, sangria and kereoke'd out in the backyard...
The next day we headed down to Laguna Beach and hopped on our mopeds for a four hour tour... Can you believe we actually survived? I wore a poise pad, just in case and then we showed them who's boss. As in Boss Hogg...
And now you know why I love the nephew so much and also why I need a permanent poise pad when he's around...
(there's more to come, I promise, but for now I gotsta get back to beating this summer's ass...
Well, apparantly the little nephew is all grown up...
Yesterday, he got his diploma from Pace University. It's as if overnight he went and got smart(er), taller, lost those chubby cheeks, and little high waisted pants.
Poof. Just. Like. That.
Congratulations, Christian... "Now, go be the light, where there is dark..!"
If you're a long time reader you might remember Robot. I "built" him all by myself. I built him for my nephew Ryan, who was turning 6 that year. He's now 12. I sure miss Robot. He was a long time favorite, and felt like family until his untimely death a few years ago. He was a good pal to Ryan; went where he went, hung out where he hung out, watched what he watched, played what he played. He was a good buddy to my little buddy. All until that dreadful night.
Unfortunately, for Robot as he lay quietly sleeping on the floor of my niece Taylor's bedroom, he met up with some regurgitated school lunch. I think Hot Dogs were on the menu that day.
Is it wrong that I am less excited that my nephew will be home this summer from NYC as a College Graduate, than the fact that he's now 21 and we can actually go clubb'n together..?
Please note that this photo was taken almost 4 years ago... that would make him only 17. Wrong. So so wrong!!
This is very difficult post for me to post. In fact by the end I think I'll need a hug. Or a drink.
This past weekend I traveled to El Paso, Texas to meet up with the fam. Don't get me wrong it was all for fun and boy howdeeee, did we ever have some fun, but that is not why this post will be hard. It's going to be hard to post because most of all that fun I just mentioned that we had, was all due to the "private jokes" we created. And private jokes are hard to describe. You know, the whole, "you had to be there..."
Let me start out by saying that the weekend was loaded with lots and lots of estrogen. Everywhere you turned there was a person of the female persuasian. And, they were likely either holding a wine glass or kicking and stretching. Lots and lots of estrogen. Lots and lots of laughs too. The main characters:
Cousin Amy-Lou,
Aunt Pat and
Cousin Dorothy-Joyce
(who by the way hates to be called Dorothy-Joyce and would much prefer something like Dotty or Dot or even DJ, but I can't help myself, I've always known her as Dorothy-Joyce, so that is why I call her Dorothy-Joyce.
Which now I usually have to follow it with a, "I'm so sorry..." As in, "Hey Dorothy-Joyce, why don't you tell us all about the number 19, since you seem to know it up close and personal... Oh and I'm so sorry for calling you Dorothy-Joyce, but back to that whole 19 times thing..."
Well, when the 4 of us get together, I'm telling you it's like comedy genius is in da house. Maybe if you were there, you'd be rolling your eyes or looking for the nearest exit, but us, we either end up in tears from all the laughter or running to the laundry room to wash all 3 pairs of jeans that we brought because we've pee'd them. All 3 of pair. See, already I've put in 2 inside jokes into this post and you're clueless! You're welcome!!
It's so good to get together with estrogen. A room full of laughing and (peeing)estrogen is my new favorite thing in the whole world. The night of my arrival, we had a room full of it. Well, let's just say there were 9 ladies and 14 bottles of wine. Then we had to go and pull out the nose cups and candy cigarettes and that's when all hell broke loose!! Not to mention Dorothy-Joyce schooled us all on a whole new meaning to the number 19. NINETEEN times ya'll.
There is just something that happens when you get a hold of a candy cigarette; there was all kinds of inhaling and flicking going on..!
The next day... We were just sitting around and decided that these ladies needed to learn a couple of cheers... I mean we were headed to an EstrogenFest - Miss America 2011 Party on Saturday night and these two were going as "Retired OU Cheerleaders." What retired Cheerleaders do you know who don't know a cheer or two? Exactly. So we began coaching them...
Now if only I had thought to grab my video cam sooner... you'd have witnessed many many more out takes. And I would have gladly shared them with you, "Whyyyyy, because I want toooo, no, because I like youuuuu...!" But these are pretty good and if you're not running for your "poise pad" after watching these then something is very wrong with you.
See, this post is killing me, because it really is funny, but since you weren't there, I'm just not sure it has you laughing like we were. It's sort of like when you tell other people about how you've shaved yourself bald and they don't quite understand what you're saying and so you have to do the hand gestures and make the "pshwooo, pshwooo, pshwooo..." sound, so that they can finally get what you mean. Yeah, just like that. Oh well... huuuuuuhhhhhh huuuuuhhhhhhh.....
Speaking of Estrogenfest - Miss America 2011 party, I went to one and it was SO much fun. Everyone who was invited was asked to pick a state, so I picked Alaska. Then we were asked to dress up in our most outrageous outfit to help represent that state, as well as bring a dish that sort of represents our chosen state. I have to confess that even after picking Alaska, I was a bit baffled as to exactly what I was going to dress up as. Last year was easy. Miss Arkansasassy had to wear Long Johns and a Big Tutu right? But what would I do this year? Well, I got a little help from my friend Katie and between the two of us we came up with "Miss Alaskan Queen Crabby..." You know, because I'm the Queen. (Queen of Dorks...) Anyway... The party was a blast as usual, and all of us really out-did ourselves. There was Miss Capital Hill-Billy or as I liked to call her, Barbara's Bush. There were those retired OU Cheerleaders, representing my home state of Oklahoma and then there was one of my personal favorites, Miss New Jersey dressed as a dead ringer for Snookie. And being that she was the hostess of this party, we have to say, Snookie really does know how to party down. (and fall down, apparently!)
For an entire view of my estrogenlaughterpeefilled weekend click here. My only advice would be to maybe prepare yourself with a poise pad, unless you don't mind doing your wash and fold at the laundrymat.
Time. Time on my hands. Yep, that's what I got. It truly seems like my "life" is on hold. Sure, I get up each and every day determined to have a "positive attitude," a "smile on my face," and even a "pep in my step," and for the most part I'm making it work, but a big part of me is just.... HARUMPH! I'm on hold for another few days to hear the outcome of all my recent medical issues. In the last 3 months I've seen the inside of a Dr.'s office and or hospital more times than I've ever seen the inside of these places in my entire life. Actually, for most of my life I've been very lucky healthy. cough cough...
Well, I did have that minor accident when my chin met that broken window. In my defense, me and my other little 5 year old friends were just playing around the houses that were being built in our neighborhood. We rode our bikes over there and were "inspecting"all the new construction when one of my other 5 year old friends went inside the house, and it was the only logical thing for me to do; stick my head through that broken window to get a looksi of her inside. It was only then when I pulled my head back out, that the razor-sharp-broken-glass nicked my chin and the blood began to gush. In perfect Pat Spear style my mom whisked me off to the base hospital to get me stitched right up. My only memory of anything after that was the nurses "making" her leave the room and them having to put me into a straight jacket (literally) to "calm me down." In retrospect, I'm pretty sure it was HER choice to leave the room, not wanting to be witness to the sewing up of her baby's chin skin, but in my 5 year old mind I thought I was now involved in a hostage situation and most likely never to see her again and was going to have to start responding only to the name Fern or Tania. I did survive but I still have a small scar, both emotionally and on my chin. (5 stitches)
Oh, and then there was that one time when I was 7 years old and I was out roller-skating with my friends and my forehead met that fire hydrant. I didn't have the fancy white leather roller-skates, no, I had the ratty old metal kind with the (worn out) leather straps. I had to wear shoes with them, and it's a wonder I didn't kill myself wearing those things. There we were all out skating, trying to do tricks and be all tricky. The latest trick we had come up with was, picture this: a corner sidewalk that curved and declined at the same time. A swoop of a corner that headed downhillif you may... We decided that we could skate along the flat sidewalk, approach the corner and begin the curve and the downhill decline (in other words, pick'ng up speed as we went along) and just as we sped up and got past the actual turn we would reach out to our left and grab onto the street sign and swing 'round and 'round all tricky/fancy like. Get it? Well, lets just say that when I stepped up for "my turn," me and my METAL skates didn't do it so gracefully. Somehow my metal skates failed me. I skated down the sidewalk just fine. I approached the curve with no fear. I picked up speed just like I was supposed to... and this, this is where it all went to hell and a hand basket. Somehow I missed the street sign, rolled over a rock, busted the worn out leather strap, and flew out of my skates and hmmm, fell down. And this is when my forehead met that fire hydrant and the blood began to gush. But what you don't know is that the back story is what really makes this a great tale. 2 hours earlier in perfect Pat Spear style, my mom allowed me, AT 7 YEARS OLD to stay at home BY MYSELF so that I could keep skating with my friends. I'm sure I begged and begged not to have to go with her and my annoying brother to the BX (base store; think Big Lots) so he could get new basketball shoes. I'm also pretty sure that her first instinct was to insist that I go with them, but I could be pretty convincing and I was playing with my very best friend, Teresa who lived right next door and her mom and Uncle were right there and could for sure keep an eye on me!! To this day I remember the moment her Uncle was carrying me in his arms, blood dripping everywhere, running around panicked asking me, "Where is your mother..?" "Gone to buy shoes..." "Where is your father..?" "Gone to fly airplanes..." Right then is when the car came around that corner very slowly and we all realized that my 12 year old brother was driving the car. (blink blink) Apparantly, my mom had a premonition that something terrible had happened, and she was so freaked out, she made my brother drive them home. Did I mention he was 12? Yes, I did and yes he was. She also made him drive us back to the BX so I could get some medical attention. There was no straight jacket this time, but there were stitches. I did survive but I still have a rather large scar, both emotionally and on my forehead. (19 stitches)
After that it was pretty smooth sailing, I maybe had a few colds, bouts with the flu or repritory infections, etc. And, then there was that one time when I was 23 and I fell down some stairs (drunk as a skunk) and broke my right leg. But after a cast for 6 weeks, I was right back at it, good as new. These were the only illness' I experienced until the crash of '08 was heard around the world... That to date was probably the worst thing I've experienced. Surgery ain't no joke.
This little jaunt down memory lane has reminded me that everything will be okay and I just have to keep the faith that I'll survive and if a few little scars are the worst of it, so be it. I'll keep you all posted...
It turns out that when "the nephew" was here a few weeks ago, he took a poop-load of photos. He not only is months away from turning 21, graduating college, and beginning his career on Wall Street, ("Wha hapon to my baby nephew, Christian..?") but he is quite handy dandy with the camera.
It's all fun and games when there aren't cocktails involved, but unfortunately for me, when we're together there are usualy cocktails involved. He claims over his 4 week vacation he took over 2000 photos and that it will take him quite a bit of time to get them uploaded. But somehow he managed to get this one up and going. Hmmm...
Who is this woman and why is she wearing my clothes?
It's been since February 2006 that I've been back to visit Plattsburgh, New York. I have such fond memories of the little town that is located in Upstate. Way Upstate. My favorite time to visit of course is the summer time. I was there for a couple of "falls" also, but summer is definitely when it shines. The temps are warm, the sun is strong, the trees are a golden green and the water is sooo blue.
It's already been over a month since we moved... My oh my, how time flies when you're so happy. And, we're talking over the moon happy! I can't even describe the joy that fills my heart as of late. Just imagine not being happy about where you live for a long time and then something changes; you move, and then you are happy. Very happy. Yeah, that's it. But times ten.
There are just so many things to share with you all that I love about our move. Up first, is our new little town; San Juan Capistrano. In one word; Charm! It's got tons of history, in fact it's one of the oldest towns in California. It's got lots of Native American history and one of the main attractions is right in the middle of the town and is the Mission San Juan Capistrano. And the best part is it's only .9 miles from our little abode. We can walk 15 minutes and we're right smack dab in the middle of all the charm. I plan to dive in real soon. As soon as we get "all moved in." Yep, still working on it. I've had tons of projects to complete and my energy is quickly draining. So. Exhausted. But. Still. So. Happy.
Here is a quick "vintage" look about town...with more to come!!
all pics taken with my iphone with the hipstamatic app.
No time to post about American Idol this week... But just know that I still like all the key players from last week and even have a few new ones to add to the list. We'll see who "makes it through" tonight and go from there starting next week. But in honor of Ellen being the "newest (prettiest) judge," here's my story about her.
Okay, so this is old news. Like if this was a newspaper article the paper itself would be all yellow and wrinkley like. But, I'm trying to get caught up and this event was worth still talking about...
Raise your hand if you love Ellen... How can you just not love this woman? She is funny as all get out, she's as kind as they come and everyone knows that she can dance. I've been a fan of her show from day one. I tape her show every single day and honestly can't say that I've missed but just a few days since the beginning. I just love her that much. She's a lifter of spirits, and not a mean word ever escapes her mouth. She does so much for others, and especially those in need.
Last month In January, we got to go and see her show taped live... I've been trying to get tickets for 2 years and finally, finally we got ourselves some. TL, the nephew and I loaded up in the car early in the morning to head up to Burbank. Once we scoped out the area, and found out where we needed to park and go to be at our confirmed check in time, we then headed out for some lunch. There was only one place we could go while up in Burbank and that is the famous Bob's Big Boy. This is the "original" and has been there since the early 40's. We even opted to save time and sit at the old fashioned counter. We ordered up our Big Boy's (okay, so the diet was NOT in force that day...) admired all the Big Boy decor and had a great lunch.
Once we got to the studio in time for our check in, we then began the wait. Ohh, the wait. It's just like you hear all the celebrity's say about the tv and movie business, everything was like a big "hurry up and wait." So wait is what we did. For about 3 hours. It could have been a "boring" wait, but instead they had a little talent show of sorts, asking for volunteers from the audience to come up and perform their hidden talents. Oh, and you know MY hand went up immediately. Wait, you didn't know that I have a hidden talent? Yeah, I didn't eiether. But then when I was the first to be called on, I shot Christian a look of horror... "Oh shit, I didn't really think he'd call on me, now what am I going to do..?" Then it came to me... Of course I can perform that thing I do when I rattle off all the United States in Alphabetical Order. Yep, we'll just make that my "hidden talent" and to make it all "talenty" I'll claim that I can do it really really super duper fast. And, that's just what I did. Um, how embarrassing... But the 300 3000 people I performed it for, did clap for me afterwards. Also, Christian informed me afterwards, "At least you were better than the girl who Barked like a Dog." Thanks Christian. I guess.
Once we got into the actual studio the Party began. The music was loud and the dancing commenced. We had great seats, just off the right side in about the 4th row. I got placed right on the isle and that is when it hit me that Ellen herself was going to breeze right by me as she danced up the stairway directly after her opening monologue. I started to get that nervious excited feeling... We were just giddy from all the excitement in the room. And boom, the show began. Ellen came out and the roar of the crowd was defining... these people seriously love her and I was one of them, screaming my head off, so happy to see her in person. As the show progressed, it just seemed to FLY by... I remeber her dancing right by me, I remember Matthew Broderick coming out and saying the Mystery Word, which won us each a $100 gift certificate for some Clark shoes. (Thank you Matthew B) I remember seeing Tony, and Jillian Michaels who came out to teach Ellen some exercise moves that even looked hard for Ellen to do. (Man are those bitches ever T I N Y) And I remember Mary J. Blige coming out for a short interview and then a fantastic performance. Her singing voice IN PERSON blew me away, unbelievable. Then we got to sing her Happy Birthday... And then it was over. So sad. As we exited the studio, I took one last look behind me to take it all in. What a great time we had. We were handed our free MJB cd, our Clark's gift certificates and even a piece of MJB's Birthday cake (chocolate cherry with white icing) and were on our way.
(click to watch video...)
(click to watch video...)
The next day I couldn't wait to watch "our" episode on TV... It was fun to watch it knowing that we were "actually" there!! I couldn't wait to see if "we" got on tv. And to my horror we did. Now, most people would think I would be horrified to see myself on tv because it obviously adds lots of Lb's, but THAT was not my problem this time. This time what I noticed is that the camera caught a glimpse of us just as Ellen was sprinting up those stairs during the "dance" portion of her show. There we were, TL, the nephew and myself all swaying our hips, rocking back and forth, and clapping to the beat... well, TL and the nephew were clapping to the beat, I don't know what I was clapping to... See for yourelf.
Here is a breakdown of the act better known as "I've got NO rhythm, baby..."
Since the holidays are long gone, I thought I would just share some of the highlights we experienced 'round these parts of the world! These are some of the things that made me laugh, cry and say things like "we need more vodka" more than once!!
First, there was the dreaded haircut... da-da-da-daaaa (say that like it's dreaded music...)
This poor little boy "allowed" his big brother to cut his hair. I think the conversation went something like this...
little boy:..."big brother, will you TRIM my hair..? big brother:..."sure, get me the scissors..." little boy:... "cool, here you go, now not too short..."
"snip, snip..."
big brother (under his breath):..."Whoops..." and "Uh-oh..!" little boy:..."wait, what did you do..?" big brother:..."Oh nothing, it looks good, trust me, and YOU'RE WELCOME..!"
Seriously, I haven't laughed that hard in months, and what a good sport little Ryan was too! We took lots of photos of the "during..." because, it was just too damn funny not to!
Look, even Ryan can't keep from laughing at his unfortunate meeting with those scissors... All is well though, as the victim and his stylist later kissed and made up..!
Next, we have the Night that the "Hey, Chelsea Sweater" came to life...
Anyone who puts this sweater on has a sudden urge to yell out... "Hey, Chelseeeea..!" (I'd show you the videos of us doing just this, but I highly object to humiliating myself in public. Well, that isn't entirely true, as a very humiliating video was made of me wearing this very sweater humilating myself. In public. But, this is MY blog, so I don't have to go there)
Trust me, it's very funny and very humiliating!
Next up, on Christmas morning, the birth of one "Chardonnay" was born... Cue the migrane for my brother! So here is the back story: All my little niece wanted for Christmas was a "pair of high heels!" If you saw any list she hand wrote, the number 1 item was, high heels. This little girl had a one track mind when it came to what she wanted from Santa this year. In fact when it came time to open up the gifts, she honed right into the exact package that contained the said high heels and it was the first and foremost present she knew to go for! (somewhat suspicious if you ask me, but since I was the type of 9 year old who used to open up her gifts and then rewrap them so that "nobody" ever knew, I guess I can't be all judgy, now can I?) As soon as Taylor opened those shoes, her face lit up like it was Christmas morning!!
And Chardonnay was born..!
And this is the moment her daddy got his first (of many to come) migranes..!
Later that night we enjoyed a HUGE feast completely prepared by my dad aka: Papa T. This is a picture of him calm as a cubumber even though he had practically an entire side of beef cooking in the oven.
Papa T says... "Christmas Rocks..!"
And lastly, check out this Prime Rib we enjoyed!
Nobody was heard saying, "Where's the Beef?" that night! That is for sure!!
About a week ago or so, my cousin Amy made some remark on Facebook about all the ladies she spotted out in public wearing their Christmas sweaters and how it was all she could do to refrain from shouting to the world, "Are you kidding me, oh please, you're not really going to wear that with pride are you..?"
I immediately phoned her and we then had a giggle or two about it all, making fun of pink snowmen, bulky jingle bells and big fluffy pom pom's protruding from these womens chest's. After the giggles I mentioned to her that TL's boss had even been guilty of actually wearing the famous "Bill Cosby" sweater to the Christmas party the week before, the phone went dead silent for a moment or two. But, soon after the dead silence came the flying snarky comments, one after the other like rapid fire... We both said things like, "Ohhh, how 1987 of him," and "Did he actually think he looked good..? and lastly there was the, "Where oh where is the mobile upload..?"
Well, after having some innocent fun poking at other Christmas sweater wearing fools nice people, I recalled my own mother used to make these "decorated sweatshirts" back in her crafting days. And then I felt bad. You know, for all the mocking. How rude. You all know how much I love my mom and everything that she made was actually pretty ahead of it's time. However corny these sweatshirts seem, at the time they were pretty nice. I mean look at us, all matchy poo poo... Come on, these are practically couture! In this photo you'll see my 4 Aunts, my mom (of course), my cousin Beth and myself all looking pretty spiffy if you ask me.
Wait... now with a closer look, it appears that some of their faces have frozen smiles, as if they're fearful that someone will see them out in public and mock their Christmas sweater... It's almost as if they're saying to themselves, "Please just take the damn picture already so I can get this damn day over with."
No... surely not.
I swear I will never mock the Christmas sweater again, because you just never know about the love and care that goes into making one of these suckers treasures!
And yes Amy, we actually wore them OUT IN PUBLIC!
And don't even laugh at us, because we look goooood...
Oh, and I have an extra one for you in white!! It's SO you!!
I've told the story a few times here before, but just in case you've drank a few eggnog and rum's since then, I'm going to share it again now.
Years and years ago, my maternal grandmother,Bert collected the magazine, The New Yorker. She really had an eye for all things art. I often wonder what prompted her to start saving the covers, and if she by chance "knew" what she was going to do with them all along. But, however it all begain, what she did end up doing with them is wallpaper-ing them to one entire wall in her kitchen. She lined them up in rows and rows and each cover magically created a "focal point" in a room that usually sees nothing but bacon grease on the walls. It was just so unexpected, so ahead of it's time. Genius, I tell ya.
My fascination with this project of hers I think came about because my own mom was fascinated by this idea of her mom's. One house we lived in, my mom did the same thing, but in a bathroom. It was way cool too, but not nearly as awesome as that kitchen wall. So, I don't know, for some reason this has stuck with me, and for years I've dreampt of doing the same thing. Maybe in an office or craft room, or study; I just think it would be, again so unexpected. Art.
Well, you'd think if I really wanted to do this project all on my own I'd possibly start collecting the magazine myself, right? Nope. Trust me I've thought about it, many times, but just never pulled the plug and purchased the subscription. It's a weekly magazine and I could just never justify the money on a "maybe one day I'll have a kitchen all of my own to maybe figure out how I too, could wallpaper my wall."
Fast forward to a month ago or so... I was perusing Craigslist. I like to look at the "free stuff" section, just to see if by chance I could score something worth more than nothing. And I saw this ad that said, "100 New Yorker Magazines...FREE" I cliked on it and even called the guy. My concern was that when you get this magazine as a subscription, the mailing label usually comes glued to the front of the cover and would essentially ruin the cover for this project of mine. So that was the first question I asked, "Do the magazines have mailing labels glued to the front of the covers?" I patiently waited for him to go and look and when he came back to the phone he said that they did. "BUMMER MAN!!" Oh well.
Now, this is when the story gets interesting to me... Just "because," and I really have no idea why, but I decided to forward the Craigslist ad on to my Aunt Vickie. I guess I figured she could "relate" as it was her mom who had originated this project to begin with and I figured I'd just share with her how close I was to getting the covers for myself!! Well, she emails me back after receiving a copy of the ad, and informs me that she just so happens to have about "10 YEARS WORTH OF THE MAGAZINES just LAYING AROUND IN A BOX IN HER BASEMENT!!" Blink. Blink Blink. "Say whaaaat..?"
Within a week, I had the box in hand and now have 10 years worth of The New Yorker Magazine all for my very own. Now all I need is a wall (or 3) and some wallpaper paste!
My Christmas definitely came early this year... Thank you Aunt Vickie!!
The New Yorker Magazines gets it's Christmas on... circa: December 1970's
Well, Halloween 2009 has come and gone. I mostly have great memories of Halloween's past... Well, except for that one year I dressed up as a clown and my mom painted my face. With REAL paint. Acrylic paint. The kind that sticks to your skin and makes it itch and also makes you want to peel it off so that it doesn't hurt anymore and then you lose the contest because your face no longer looks like a clown, but more like a clown who was beat up by those kind of people who hate clowns. Yeah, that year not so much my fave.
TL was way into it this year. This is the guy who usually says very little. The most I usually hear from him is things like; "Shhh, it's quiet time..!" or "Are you still talking..?" or "Shhh, it's quiet time..!" Out of the( almost) 18 years I've known him, I've only known him to dress up on Halloween or any other time, ummm let's see, NEVER! But this year he was determined to win the "Big Prize" at his work. They were giving away $250.00 to the top costume... I present to you: "One Night Stand"
1st Place...!!
Oh, and I had to get in the game also... It's an oldie, but a goodie!!
I stumbled onto this cool site... My Parents were Awesome..." And, then found myself clicking, clicking and clicking, and looking into all the faces of these "Awesome Parents." Some of my favorites; Edward and Ethel, David and Bonny, Pat, and Chantel and Phillipe. Cool Cats!! There are some great shots indeed. Of course I had to send some that I have in my archives. Because, yes, my parents were awesome too! But you already knew that.
Last weekend I traveled up to the San Francisco Bay area to reunite with my 2 childhood best friends. I met Tina and Diana (sisters) back in 1974 as Tina and I were entering the 5th grade and Diana was entering the 4th grade. The 3 of us hit it off right away and over the years, it's been such a blessing to call them my bff's.
The 3 of us have been through so much as you can imagine... It always seemed like every other year, I would be closer to one or the other. In the 5th Grade, Diana and I were fast buddies; playing board games on their front porch, lying on the hood of their mom's station wagon singing songs, and complaining about the other neighborhood girls who we didn't like much. We'd laugh at each other's jokes, make fun of each other's feet, and promised to be "best friends forever!"
In the 7th grade, as Tina and I moved on to the middle school, we began to get much closer. She and I began to learn of grown up things like "boys and booze." (Don't gasp, we both turned out alright...) We had classes together, passed notes to each other, took the bus to the beach with the "cool crowd," wore yellow gym shorts every day in P.E. and promised to be "best friends forever!"
This trend continued on until high school, back and forth every other year it seemed, one sister or the other and I were just always close. I remember being devastated the summer their dad told them they were "moving away..." In one packing of a U-haul truck, I lost my two best friends. That was the summer before my Junior year, and let's just say that was the saddest year of all time. I missed them so much and had a hard time making new friends. Eventually, they each made their way back to California and even after several years of seperation, it always seemed like we could just slip right back into that "best friends forever" mode.
Over the years, we 3 have been through so much together. Through all the ups and downs and moves all over the country, we've just made it through. Seeing them again this trip proved to me that having two people in the world who know you, faults and all and still love you no matter what, is priceless. They've both been there for every break-up, every cry fest, all those troubled 20's years, we all went to Chippendales and watched practically naked men dance around, we've laughed until we cried (or pee'd my pants) I was in Diana's wedding, Tina was there the night I met TL, they both know my mom from way back and get it when I say how much I miss her... I mean, these are the stories of my life and when I think about it, they're the ones who've been there, they have my back, I have theirs, we have history that nobody else can share. They get it. They get me. I get it, and I get them.
I love them both and now their extended families with all of my heart. This little trip nourished me, filled my heart with love and gratitude indeed. And, I especially love that we've been able to keep our promise to each other to be "best friends forever..!"
Diana, Jill and Tina... BFF's!
And if you'd like to see more, here is the rest of my trip...
