Please register!

Hi folks.
Due to the "make $900 extra a month" twit who keeps leaving comments, I am forced to force you to register or join my team if you'd like to comment. I don't know how either work, but hopefully you do.
And since my car has a cracked water pump, and is not worth getting fixed, I'm in the market for a new car. I'd like a Protege3 wagon or a Scion box. Any comments along those lines are also helpful.
Here's a pic to appease you:





This is what happens when the alternator (in your husband's car) goes out and you're in the Petrified Forest in Arizona. I wish I had a photo of the Freakin' Hot Greasy Tow Truck Man Marty for you. He was a beefcake!


"It's 108 in the shade! I'm so glad our car broke down on our honeymoon! This bodes well for the marriage!"

Where I Got My Love of the Limelight

I get nervous talking to adults, especially groups of adults. In high school, I often had flute solos (shut up, you pervert) because I was First Flute (the best). I'd stress out for weeks before the concert where everyone in attendance would look at their programs and see that it was Allison Walker who was so royally screwing up. One time in church, I was scheduled to play "Greensleeves", one of my favorite Christmas songs because it's so melancholy. Long story short, I blew it, and was completely embarrassed to show my face at the coffee social that always came after church. I've only told Matt the full story of that fateful Advent Sunday because it was so painful.
Yet, if I'm making people laugh, I don't mind speaking to a crowd of thousands. One problem I have with teaching is that I like making kids laugh, which usually has nothing to do with the curriculum I'm paid to teach. But if the audience is enjoying MY words and MY humor, it's golden. I think that's why I like blogging. Even if I don't get any comments from you all, I still amuse myself.

April 1, 1987

Dear Sally,
Last night I babysat Kathryn.
Yesterday C. and me made up! She thought I was paying too much attention to LW. And she says H. is immature!
Today in music, H., AM, and VS and I did our skit. It was: fabulous, outstanding, terrific, great, extraordinary and definitely talent show material! If only H. and AM wanted to!
BC tried to feel out my arm today. He has an earing in his left ear.
I majorly cleaned my room today! It's grrreat!
love,
me

Okay, who the hell was Kathryn?
I think the skit was a workout show where I was the Richard Simmons-esque instructor. Methinks we actually did perform it at the Talent Show that year, shortly before Ween took the stage. Yes, Ween played at our talent shows. My brush with fame.
Here's a photo for your enjoyment. This explains why I am going straight to Hell.
The other windmill-looking statues are the stations of the cross. This was taken in Groom, Texas. I think the photo of Jesus' s hands holding a fetus was too creepy and we deleted it.

My street sucks

Totally off-blog idea...
I just talked to my old upstairs neighbor who informed me that the corner store I used to go to is now becoming a micro-brew and deli sandwich shop! And the dry cleaner at the corner (next door to old house) is becoming a breakfast/lunch/wine/coffee shop.
Meanwhile, I BOLT out of the house when I hear the neighborhood kids yelling "ICE CREAM MAN!! ICE CREAM MAN!!" I run down the street to the van, and take my place in line. I could have given birth to each and every kid in front of me.
Where's my quaint corner deli? What about my coffee shop? I now go to Starbucks with no reservations about how they drive out mom and pop operations. Nary a qualm, I tell you, NARY A QUALM.
And speaking of words that start with Q, one of the aforementioned neighborhood kids is named Qais! It's like saying k-ice. How cool is that? I love diversity!
And local coffee shops :(

March 28, 1987

This day's entry was so boring, I'll have to give you 2. It's a ROGO sale! Read one, get one free!

March 28, 1987
Dear Alexandra,
Hi. Today was a hectic day for yours truly. I rode down to Carversville, fooled around with the daffodils, polished bapkin rings. I'm very tired.
G'Night,
Allison

Just for the record, I meant "puttered" for "fooled" around. There was no kinky stuff going on. And for those of you who are not aware of the joy of puttering around, it is the act of wasting time not doing much of anything. I am the queen of puttering. I get it from my mother, who collects figural napkin rings.


March 30, 1987
Dear Roberta,
My ear is in pain, as well as my feelings. Today at lunch, C. didn't want to sit with me or H., because she wants the "ultimate group". I told LW that she (C.) sounds like Hitler. If she can' t cope with H.'s and mine faults, then tough! She wants us to be like her! No way in hell!
Her idea of the perfect group is: AD (okay, well, nice), AM and C.. She was telling this to LW and she didn't even include LW!
She is an asshole!
Now she hates me for no reason!
Bye,
Broken-hearted Allison
Here I drew a little scene of stick figure girls, one of whom has her nose in the air and the other is reaching out her arms to the nose in the air one. I never was an artist.

Photo trial

Let's see if this will work...Wait! I hear the ice cream man!

This will teach Denyse Schmidt to think she's all creative and unique! I can make oven mitts too!
Hot damn, it did. And now for a chocolate eclair, unless he's speeding again....

The Return of The Diary

Hi guys,
I know, you've missed me and all, but I've been sewing like mad for Gypsy Caravan and the Rock and Roll Craft Show at the end of May. Oh yeah, and I've been at work. I'm seriously considering taking tomorrow off, but I probably won't.
March 27, 1987
Dear Susan ( I hate that name!)
I have the hiccups. Hee cups, as L. says it. Tonight we went up to Quakertown to Central Tractor Farm and Family. It is so hick! The clothes were all mens' jeans. Daddy was slightly drunk tonight.
Good night.

By "slightly", I probably meant he was singing "Starry, Starry Night'" to the cat while laying on the floor. I distinctly remember describing things as being better than they were. And notice how I wrote "Daddy" instead of "Dad"? Yeah, things that night were probably bad.
Quakertown was the breeding ground of not only open-minded abolitionist Quakers, but also mullets, fringed/beaded "Seaside Heights '87" t-shirts, and white trash. I'm glad we moved before I got any older than 10. Who knows how many kids I'd be chasing around now? Is it environment or how one is raised that affects one's future life?

Ugh

I swear I'll post again this weekend. This week was MAP testing, as well as parent-teacher conferences on Monday and Tuesday evenings. Tonight was the first time in 3 days I saw my backyard in the daylight. My tulips bloomed!
And yes, in case you're wondering, it IS a bad idea to have to give the MAP test, teach, then linger at school for the parents to come bitch about their kid's grades. I was so tired today I couldn't speak right. I am sure I won't be the first to say that teachers get treated like shit by their own districts.
And I'm allergic to whatever's dropping pollen all over my car.
To keep you entertained, and because Mai told me how to, here's some pics for ya.
Okay, that was supposed to go here. Obviously, it's me and Matt on our honeymoon. The person who took it was from the St. Louis area. Is it any surprise people here want to leave?
Let's try another one:
Sonuvabitch! Mai! Help me! My brother is only pretending to dislike having my wedding veil on his head. He's a good sport. It must be from all those times I put makeup on him as a kid.
One more, just for kicks.
Those are some rad potholders I made. They're not on www.squaresville.etsy.com yet, so if you like, let me know.