Monday, August 28, 2006

First victim

Today was the first day of school for me and my 13-year-old Vietnamese neighbor, Hieu. He was excited; I was not.
But, my Legging Forecast was accurate! One girl was wearing black leggings and a white mini-skirt, which was probably too short for school. She seems really sweet, but talkative, so I won't feel too bad about pointing out that her fashion is rehashed from one of the worst Fashion Eras in History---The Eighties.
Legging Count-1

Sunday, August 27, 2006

A few things

I've been saying that my new car is a color my hair has been. Well, here's photographic evidence:

I was at a wedding of a coworker in the Somerville School Age Child Care program. It was open bar, all night. Kathy and I are a few sheets to the wind. Do you see that I'm drinking what looks like Windex? Would you believe that's not the first blue drink I had that day? Blue Hawaiians are very, very yummy.
I don't remember much about the ride home, aside from puking out the window of the Jeep I was in. It was a great wedding. I still have the dress in the picture.

Now, for more serious topics. Each year, I'm disgusted more and more by the fashions my students parade around in. I cannot WAIT to show these pictures to my girls who will be sporting leggings and skirts. This was taken in 1991.
I am wearing what probably were my dad's jeans and Chinese mary janes. I am ragingly tan from sitting at the Pool, checking for member badges. Juliana is thrilled that I'm reading to her.
There's an even better picture of me in leggings, but I can't find it....yet. This was a look that I LOVED! It provided warmth and flaunted my skinny legs. Plus, it looked so cute with mary janes. Almost all of my current shoes are mary janes, but I don't have a pair of leggings. And you all will forbid me from buying any, won't you?

Monday, August 21, 2006

The Last Day of Summer

Well, I felt it would only be right to share pics of the quilts that Poppymom blogged about. I'm sure I could come up with some witty rendition of The Brady Bunch song about 2 houses of quilts coming together, but it's my last day of vacation and I've let my brain go for the day.
Here are pics of the quilts I finished/am finishing/hopefully will finish before the snow flies.

The blue/green one is just a top, a little long and skinny, but someone will love it. Robin cut a gajillion squares, and I did the piecing and plotting of the design.
The right one is all 3 pieces, just not tied. Each square is about 1.5". I am not the crazy one who cut all those little pieces; they were in the bag of donated fabric from Freecycle.

Here is the only one I've completely finished. This also came out of the donated bag. I hate binding. Give me prairie points any time.

You can see how excited Maggie is that the quilts are nearing completion. Or, it might have been the huge piece of buffalo meat, bone in, that she just finished eating.

And the basil? Robin isn't kidding when she says I bring her gargantuan amounts of it. This is how tall it is. I'm 5'2".
I like the look on my face. Not only does it say, "Bright sunlight!", but you can also imagine me saying, "Ima cut you, you mess with the basil." Note the grey streak wafting across my face. Note the swarms of bees anxious for me to get away from their basil. Note the hyacinth bean taking over the garage. Is this proof enough that I have 2 green thumbs?! I could reanimate dead bodies!
Actually, looking at this self-portrait a few hours later, and after some "Finding Pants For Work" drama at J.C. Penney's, I'm not too hot about it.
At least I've got a good personality.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

I'm crying on the inside

So, the towing company that contracts with Goodwill called today. They'll be by to pick up my blue Mazda. I feel really weird and sad about this, even though it's not very Buddhist to be attached to material things.
Here is a poem I wrote in the Gateway Writing Project about this event:
Ode To My Mazda

To my '96 Mazda
I'll no longer drive ya
I'm no money chump
So no new water pump.

Good times we've had
But your parts are going bad.
You've been in the garage leaking
While I've been new car seeking.

How many hot guys did I meet
Who later rode in the shotgun seat?
How many wild nights
Saw the dawn's early light?

You got me to Pennsylvania
Eight times or more; I felt safe in ya.
Remember the trip to tall Taum Sauk?
You blew a brake rotor on that mountain top.

And the deer in Oklahoma?
I hope you only gave it a coma.
Thanks for not hitting the other two
Cause I don't think I'd be writing this to you.

You'll always have a place in my heart.
With you I made a single life start.
Your usual passengers were me and the dog
Through blizzard and rain and lots of fog.

On 9/11 I cried, driving north on 55.
For one awful year, I hoped Dan was still alive.
I prayed with you, driving home from school
There'd be no phone message
And everything'd be cool.

Little blue Mazda, you were my first pick.
My newest car ever, built in 1996.
With AC and tape player, we could roam all over.
A vast improvement over the '71 Nova.

I'll remove your stickers and vacuum you out
But first make sure you have no doubt.
I'm very sad to send you away
My beloved blue Mazda Protege.

On a lighter note, my volunteer moonflower vine is now named Audrey. We're pals. She is probably opening her first flowers as I type.
Yes, folks, this plant came up of its own accord, as did the yellow sunflower-like plants. In the background, can you see the parents of the yellow plant? The bees, butterflies, and pretty much anything with wings enjoy these flowers.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Introspective Blog Entry.

Each August makes me wax romantic about my years at Boston University, namely my first one. After that, the shit hit the fan and I found my intellectual ass at the local community college. It wasn't my fault, by the way.
I wish I could relive those days again. The bristling excitement of moving 6 hours away from my parents to an unexplored city. The swarms of cute boys I saw on my 2 campus visits there. Being able to walk down the streets at night because there were SIDEWALKS and STREETLIGHTS and NIGHTLIFE! Sidewalks, people, not ditches!
A few weeks before I went, Mom took me shopping for dormware and clothes. I knew I'd have an office job as part of my work-study program, and neither of us knew what the attire was. Just last summer, I tore up my green and checkered trim towel to use as rags. I had it for 14 years.
I never wore those white button-down shirts agan.
It's still fresh in my mind, the picture of me and my parents standing on the corner at the end of Bay State Road.
"Well honey," Mom said, "I guess we'll go." We Walkers aren't much for emotions.
"Okay," I replied. I was itching to unpack my stuff and start collaging my desk.
Dad got in the truck, and Mom and I hugged.
"Give us a call," she said.
They waved, well, Mom did anyway, and drove off. I could almost feel the apron strings break. A strange feeling came over me. Giddiness, elation, ectasy, thrills. I may have had a brief out-of-body experience.
"Holy hell," I thought. " I am COMPLETELY alone in a strange city, with cash in my pocket and nobody to tell me what to do! HELL FREAKIN YEAH!!!! College rules!!"
I mentally danced a jig in the afternoon sun and went back inside my brownstone.

My first month, I spent many Friday nights in Copley Square watching the skateboarders to their thing. I met Jahmal , who stayed cool with me for years. Unfortunately (or, in retrospect, fortunately) the rest of the skater bois ignored me. I met a guy named Chris, who took me to a million Mighty Bosstones shows.
On weekends, I'd ride the B-line to Downtown Crossing and sit in the park writing in my journal. Or, if I didn't have 85 cents, I'd sit outside Warren Towers, the main freshman dorm, and write in my journal. My hope was that a dark-haired hottie would be enthralled with my obvious intellectual-ness and fall madly in love with me. We would drink tea and listen to The Smiths. We would share eyeliner. He would weep at my beauty as we lay naked in his dorm bed.
I did develop a crush on a guy who lived on the same floor as my friend Eric from work. Can't think of his name right now, or even the nickname I gave him. We did talk a few times, and he played This Mortal Coil for me and we talked about "Lolita". He was friends with a girl named Belkiss, who was beautiful, and already hip/cool in a French way at age 18. I wasn't. I'm still not.
Years later, I ran into him at The Model. FLAAAAAMING! I was probably drunk on grape crushes or Cider Jack and hanging on Tom, but I knew this guy was probably never interested in my penis-less self.

Backtrack.....a month or so before I left PA, I had been babysitting Juliana (who turned all the guys' heads at my wedding). Nancy was driving me home, and we were talking about Boston. She and her husband had attended Harvard Business School, so she was familiar with Beantown.
"So, what are your goals for your freshman year?" she asked.
"Get laid," I thought. "It is time to shed the virginity."
"Get decent grades, make cool friends," is what I said.
Boy, I hope my mom doesn't read this.
That was a good year. And, Nosy Nellie, I stayed pure as the driven snow until the next year, but that's another Introspective Blog Entry.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

No excuses

*blowing dust off Blogger Dashboard*
I'm not even going to explain what has kept me from blogging, because there' s no good reason. I'm just lazy as hell.
But, I have been sewing a lot, in preparation for Strange Folk and the next Rock and Roll Craft Show.
Here's what I made today:

A nice roll, although I wish it was sushi, cause I'm hungry.

Open, sesame!

DPN pocket, which is a real pocket.

Close up of outside. I love polka dots. I love Asian things. I love them together.

Another close up.

So, this is only a sample. I'd like to incorporate more patchwork into the flap and pockets. I didn't need any batting, cause the layers of fabric are cushy enough. Hopefully I can come up with some brilliant idea to use up at least half of one of my scrap tubs. *sigh*