I am St. Patrick.

So, you know how St. Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland? Well, I've done just that in my garden. For some reason, my sweet little cucumber plants have produced monstrous cukes that would put Ron Jeremy to shame.


No, that is not a cute little fairy's foot, that's my size 7. Yes, those are $1.oo flip flops from Target.




Here is another pic of my fierce garden:
You can see the tomatoes to my right are thinking about taking over. Behind me is the bed frame I found in the trash. The lablab violet vine and morning glory (thanks, Monty!) have formed a fine windblock. In the lower righthand corner is what this little guy turned into:


And the siamese twin cukes? Here's what a month of heat and sun and water will do. Notice that there obviously was a stronger twin. Notice my cute dog wondering why the hell I'm taking art student photos of cucumbers.


And for my final photo, my Green Envy zinnias which bloomed yesterday!

Update

Sometimes when I do this, it feels like I'm feeding my hungry sparrows and blackbirds in the yard. Eat, eat, my friends! Leave comments! Let me know you've been here! Just don't poop on my basil.
So, as of last post, I have:
1. attended the wedding of Matt's friends. They had been at our weddng last year, and I was determined to earn back the price of their dinner/drink then. So, Matt had 2 plates of food, and I had 4 gin and tonics and a beer and a lot of fried okra.
Then, we went to a bar. Then, we went to another bar, where I ran into my old boyfriend Rob, who informed me that Gorilla freakin' Biscuits is playing in Chicago next month! Holy crap! I introduced Rob to Matt. Their bands had played together years ago. It's all good.
When we came home, our scary/weird lady across the street was standing in the gangway between her house and her neighbor's house. Matt yelled, "I see you in the bushes!" and she came into the light and said, "I was just making sure you got in okay!"
Readers, it was 2 freakin' 30 in the morning. What was she doing?!

2. Slept late the next day, but endured barely a hangover. Thank you, okra.

3. Watched the Boston Fourth of July on TV. The fireworks being set off by the poor people in the projects a few blocks away were much better than St. Louis' official ones. Can you buy fireworks with food stamps?

4. Discovered a new plant growing/blooming in the fence. It resembles a sort of mallow. It closes in the heat of the day. Its leaves look like scented geranium leaves, yet are not pleasantly scented. The flower has 5 petals. It's rare for me to NOT be able to identify a plant.

5. Ate one of the giant cucumbers from the garden.

6. Slept a lot, yet woke up feeling like I had been run over. This was not the day after the wedding.

7. Sold a lot at Tower Grove Farmer's Market.

8. Bought cute Airwalk sandals at Payless, inspired by my sister-in-law. They are red and perky and kinda hippie-ish.

9. Somehow hurt my thumb. It aches constantly.

10. Spent inordinate amounts of time on cars.com, consumerreports.org and edmunds.com researching a new car. I rode in Jenna's Mazda3 wagon today and am in love. You can get a cassette player in it! Folks, you know that's a priority for me!

11. Matt found my missing Babaloo CDs, so all is well in my samba world.

Procrastination

Thanks to Poppymom for giving me a reason to NOT sew anything for the next 20 minutes....I do so love surveys! Glad you had a wild evening involving meat!
I hereby decree that if you read this, you must also answer this:

The idea is that you answer each question, using 3 or less song titles/artists/etc. Answers like "...everything by the Smiths" is not okay, even for me. *sigh* This is ripped from some chick named bookhart.

NAME UP TO THREE:
Song(s) That I Loathe To The Core Of My Being:
1. Butterfly by....Crazy Town?
2. What's Your Name? by Skynyrd
3. Candyshop by some rapper guy

Musical Artists That I Loathe To The Core Of My Being:
1. Britney Spears
2. P. Diddy Why does he always look sulky?
3. Korn

Rolling Stones Songs I Love:
1. Ruby Tuesday (surprisingly hard to karaoke)
2. Mother's Little Helper
3. Angie

Beatles Songs I Love:
1. Norwegian Wood
2. The song about sharing an umbrella at a bus stop
3. Here Comes The Sun

Who Songs I Love:
1. Teenage Wasteland (good for driving, esp. the YEEAAHHHH part)
2. Baba O'Reilly ( heard it sampled as I was laying on the floor at a rave in 1997)
3. um....drawing a blank here

Reggae Songs I Love:
1. Could You Be Loved?-Bob Marley
2. The Bob M. song about sharing my single bed with the roof right over our head
3. dang, I am really blank this morning..

Country Songs I Love:
1. These Old Bones-Dolly Parton ( I think that's the name)
2. Walk The Line-Johnny Cash (played at my wedding after the vows)
3. Tennesee Stud-by a bunch of guys

Movie Soundtracks I Love:
1. Valley Girl
2. Pretty In Pink
3. Suburbia

Musical Soundtracks I Love:
1. The Sound of Music
2. South Pacific
3. Man of La Mancha

Cover Songs I Love;
1. Stairway to Heaven-Dolly Parton
2. Paint It Black-Seven Shot Screamers
3. It's My Life-Gwen Stefani

Contemporary Top-40 Artists I Secretly Love:
1. Since You Been Gone-Kelly Clarkson
2. Gold Digger-Kanye West
3. Can You Take Me Higher=Creed (it's a secret! ssh!)

Songs That Bring Me To Tears:
1. The Star Spangled Banner
2. What A Wonderful World
3. Once, I cried to Pictures Of You by The Cure

Songs That Make Me Shake My Ass:
1. Hey Ya!-Outkast
2. Superfreak-Rick James
3. Whip it-Devo

Classical Composers I Love:
1. Aaron Copland (not exactly classical, but you know)
2. Tchaikovsky
3. Wagner (even though he was an anti-Semite)

Rap/Hip-Hop Songs I Love:
1. She's Crafty-Beastie Boys
2. Walk This Way-Run DMC and Aerosmith
3. Gangster's Paradise by?

70's Disco Songs I Love:
1. Hot Stuff-Donna Summer
2. Stayin' Alive-Bee Gees

70's Supergroup Songs I Love:
1. Come Sail Away-Styx
2. Another One Bites The Dust-Queen
3. Suite Judy Blue Eyes-Crosby, Stills and Nash

Metal Songs I Love:
Old metal or nu metal? Metal core or grind metal?
1. Run To The Hills-Ronnie James Dio
2. White Buffalo-Ted Nugent
3. Here I Go Again-Whitesnake

New Wave Songs I Love:
I can't say "all of them?"
1. Images of Heaven-Peter somebody
2. the New Order song originally done by Joy Division before Ian died
3. Love Will Tear Us Apart-Joy Division

Soul/R&B Songs I Love:
1. Stop! In The Name Of Love-Supremes
2. Sam Cook-I can't think of the song title
3. My Girl-Four Tops/Seasons

Power Ballads I Love:
1. Every Rose Has Its Thorn-Poison
2. November Rain-Guns n Roses
3. Eyes Without A Face-Billy Idol (pant pant pant)

Pre-1950s Songs I Love:
1. Let's Have Another Cup Of Coffee-Glenn Miller
2. Skyliner-Artie Shaw
3. Jumpin' Jive-Marian Hutton sings to Glenn Miller

Punk Songs I Love:
1. Hong Kong Garden-Siouxsie and the Banshees
2.TV Party-Black Flag
3. Loser-Descendents

Singer/Songwriter Songs I Love;
Hmm...I'm not too knowledgeable,but here goes:
1. Anticipation-Carly Simon
2. You're So Vain-Carly? or Carole King?
3. I Think It's Time that we move in together/and raise a family on our own/just you and me-probably also by Carly

MTV Videos I Love:
1. Take On Me-A-ha
2. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun-Cyndi Lauper

None Of The Above Songs I Love:
1. World Music Artists:
a. Babaloo
b. Joao and Astrud Gilberto
2. Hardcore Bands:
a. Fugazi
b. 7 Seconds
c. Gorilla Biscuits

Whew. Now I must fill my stereo with CDs and sew.
As a disclaimer, I've been listening heavily to Stiff Little Fingers and Joy Division lately, and not so much to the radio, so there.
And I happen to LOVE "Horse With No Name"! Matt says it's about heroin, get it? HORSE?

Summer's Bounty and Beer

Share with me, friends, in the first harvest of the Rabbitt Garden! I was weeding out purslane, and discovered some oddly shaped cucumbers hiding in their leaves. One was Siamese Twinning another one, so I'm letting it/them grow to see what it turns into. I've got a weird fascination with Siamese twins, if you didn't know.
I'll HAVE to make pesto this week, and will take orders. Anyone? Anyone? Perhaps a certain Illinoisian who I'm chillin' with on Friday likes pesto.
Also of note in the garden: the pokeberry plant is taller than me and everything else around it.
My tomatoes are quite leafy, and only have a few green tomatoes.
The pepper is the size of a nickel, and just as cute as you're imagining it.
The dill reseeded and smells wonderful.
Morning glories and purple hyacinth vine are taking over exactly where I wanted them to take over.
My newspaper-as-mulch idea sorta worked. Next year I'll lay down more layers of newspaper instead of just one.
Here is a cute picture of Matt's Beer Delivery Service.


Oh, and here's a shot of my first wedding anniversary present-a birdbath the color of my *sob* old blue Mazda. Note the happy blackbird striking a pose.

Bellydance and Barbecue

For you locals, come say howdy to me tomorrow evening as I sell my wares at the Bellydance and Barbecue Benefit at The Royale restaurant/bar.
I'm not sure exactly how this will work, but my crystal ball sees it this way:I am sitting at a table, hopefully with a Schlafly. On the table there is a sign stating that a portion of each sale of potholder or oven mitt will go to the Panda Athletic Club. A woman is bellydancing, making me vow to practice more. I think of the video website where I wasted so much time last night, and know I'll find just the right song to shimmy to. Rick James, here I come.
See you tomorrow!

Eighties videos

Some of you already have this. I posit 2 questions:
1. Will I ever be able to leave my computer again?
2. Why don't they play old videos anymore?
I love 80's videos.

Why can't I live in the Der Kommissar video? WHHYYYYY????

Check out Kate Bush's modern interpretive dance in "Running Up That Hill". This song is on the CD I used to play when I wanted to get busy with boys.
Check out that freak Appollonia's "Sex Shooters". We do more intense moves at bellydancing.
And...the song "White Horse"!!! It's in the "L" section. Remember when Doberman pinschers were the dog of choice for thugs?

Girl Stuff

Sometimes I'll hear myself say to a student, "Why do you care about things like this? It's not a big deal. In a month it won't matter. In a year it won't matter. And when you're my age, you'll laugh yourself silly thinking about how much it mattered."
The "it" refers not to Ebay, but to relationships with friends. Hmm. After typing that, my brain says, "but friends DO matter! No wonder we worried about it!" Perhaps I'm just an insensitive bitch, made easy by the fact that my best friends are, at the minimum, 5 hours away from me, and I don't even talk to them that much. Yet I still consider them my buds!
Eh, here's an entry:

April 28th, Tuesday.
Hi Sandra.
I am tired. Nothing really happened lately. CT was in one of her piss moods yesterday. She said I like Lexi better than her (true) and I always call her (false). Well maybe Lexi is better to get along with! CT loves Chris C., and I like MP. Today in English we were trying to send him mental messages to look at CT. It didn't work.
G'Night!
Allison

Hey, who could resist Lexi? We went to see The Goonies together and shared a twisted love for mint chocolate Bubble Yum. She was cheerful, which was a far departure from CT. Don't worry, Lex is still cheerful, even when the Cubbies blow a game. Hi Lex!
Here's another example of how fleeting my fancy was. Also, an example of how little I paid attention in school, yet made honor roll each quarter. My crush on Chris Conway came in about 10th or 11th grade. He was sort of a sk8r boi (couldn't resist), and very smart. It's funny that I married a very smart former skater boy, and today is our one year anniversary!

Oh, and definitely check out the link for Bubble Yum. I can't believe we ate so much gross crap in the 80's. I do miss Checkermint gum, though.

Update on List Progress

Last night, I attended my first belly dancing class.
My body started to hurt by the time I got into the car.
I learned a few things:
1. I have NO rhythm.
2. I dance a lot better when I'm drunk, especially if I'm with Tanya or Kerry.
3. I'm not as limber as I used to be. My left hip socket made popping noises.
4. I am rhythm-less.
5. I cannot perform what I learned for Matt without giggling.

Here's a link to my original list.

1. The purslane is almost gone. Did you know it's a food crop in Europe?
6. We had roasted chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes for Matt's yesterday birthday. Don't get excited-it was supermarket deli, canned, and boxed. But it was real food.
7. Haven't touched the Chinese Coin quilt because I've been working on this:

And these:


8. Ouch. And as I said to CO Robin, I felt muscles I haven't felt since I was 16 and riding a horse in the Grand Tetons. I haven't felt those since Daniel was chest hair-less. Since I last wore neon and tie dye!
14. yes
15. yes
16. yes. "The Brief History of The Dead" by Kevin Brockmeier. Damned good.
18. Soon, my precious, sooon
20. Yes, some days TWICE!! But not today.

Deal or No Deal?

When I was 7 or so, my dad bought an old tow truck we named The Brown Bomber, since it was brown. Witty, eh? He kept the towing apparatus on it for a few years, but it was gone by the time we moved to Solebury in 1983.
I recall Dad trying to teach me to drive stick in this truck. We lurched across our fields (possibly on April 6) as his "beverage" sloshed across our laps. He got a kick out of it, luckily, since I was tired of doing the dishes. I never really got the hang of a manual transmission.
This truck was used for the heavy/dirty/hard work, such as hauling lumber, or dragging gigantic rocks up to the house. Why we were dragging rocks, I don't know. Sometimes my dad did wacky things just for kicks.


Sunday, April 6th
Hi Odessa!
Sory about the past few days. Today Dad and I dragged 2 rocks (big) up from the woods by way of the truck. My throat hurts. I hate Jamie and Brian . They always repeat everything I say!
I made a deal with Mom that if I fixed supper, she would do the dishes. I'm gonna fix dinner for the rest of my life. On Thursday I found a note between BW. and Frank. They want to screw Nadine and Stacey.
I hate BC. He calls me his arm rest and he smells!
Bye!

Yeeeah...fix dinner for the rest of my life....that deal sure did go south, didn't it? When I lived alone, I cooked a nice meal each Sunday and ate the leftovers all week. Ever since getting married, I rarely make even pancakes anymore. Anything requiring more than 2 ingredients is out of the question.
JW and BB were kids in my church group. They were a year or so younger than me, which explains the repetition game. JW remained a jerk for as long as I knew him, but BB ended up cool. He lent me his "Head On The Door" (by The Cure, duh!) tape on one of our ski trips. Years later, I recall him going to a New Order concert.
And I guess I should apologize for anyone's feelings that are getting hurt, but people, these thoughts of mine were from almost 20 years ago! I'm not a hateful person anymore! I've got good hair, cool tattoos, and am way more secure with myself than in 1987. And Lord knows, I was no prize pig myself in 1987-you can see the yearbook photo for yourself.

CO Robin, See What I Mean?

This post is dedicated to Colorado Springs Robin. Dan and I aren't kidding when we gripe about how we had to do dishes all the time as kids. I remember standing on a CHAIR to reach the sink in order to wash dishes. *sigh* I guess it could be worse. We could've been starved or neglected.

Tuesday, April 22

Hi.
We had to run 1.5 miles today in gym.
I took 18 minutes and 29 sec.
Daddy is sick with a major head cold. I have to do the dishes for a week because I didn't put any of my babysitting money in my bank account.
GODDAMN IT!!
I'm getting pretty sick of this dishes crap!

My parents were big on the bank account thing. I had a passbook since the early '80s. If there's one thing they've instilled in me, it's savings. Even though I can afford to go to Target and get whatever I want, a part of me still thinks it's wasteful and bad. Thanks, Mom and Dad! I'm going to be miserly for the rest of my life!

Easter, Walker family style

There really was no rest for the wicked, or even the non-wicked at our house. When I say my dad was a slave driver, I'm not totally exaggerating. Looking back now, I understand that there was a TON of work to be done in/on/around our house. However, I'm not the one who decided to buy a ramshackle 120 year old farmhouse. Also, we could have been asked a bit more politely to help out. You win more flies with sugar than vinegar.

Even on holidays, we were expected to be picking rocks out of the garden, carting away whatever old building had just been torn down, or, my personal favorite, being The Holder.

"Get over here and stand on this board," was a common request from Big Mike. If he needed help with sawing or hammering, my brother and I were the perfect weight. Many's the time I had to hold a piece of lumber while my father ran the power saw inches (if that) away from my fingers. It's a testament to his carpentry skills and my nerves that I have all the digits I was born with.
So here is Easter Sunday, 1987. A day of celebration and rest? Not in my house.

Sunday, April 19th
Dear Olive,
Happy Easter!
Today was full! All day I worked outside, cutting grass, etc. My back hurts so bad and I have to go to Peddler's Village tomorrow for the YF auction.
Night-night,
me

For those of you who know me, it may be a surprise that I went to church at all, let alone be involved in the Youth Fellowship. Again, I grew up in the country, and there weren't a lot of chances for socialization. I took whatever I could.
Peddler's Village is a sore on the ass of Solebury Township. Imagine a shopping village where New Yorkers and Philadelphians are BUSSED in. Unlike Boston in the 1970's, nobody protested or threw rocks. Chi-chi can only begin to describe it. At the time, I liked it. There were good restaurants (The Pig and.....Something) and some cool shops with crystals and suncatchers that I liked.

When Poverty's Children Play

This entry sounds like something they'd make us read at work, and then discuss how it relates to our student population.
You'd think that I grew up on a dirt floor chewing on grass and riding a cow. Wait-my uncle broke his back doing just that....well...never mind, then.

Saturday, April 18
Hi.
Dear Jessy,
Today Dan and I went over to the houses in the woods. In the first house, I found a package with 3 doughnuts in it and at the last house we made a seesaw and played in the puddles in the cellar.
Today Mon, Dan and I spent all morning in Doylestown buying things.
I bought:
1. a basket for Mrs. Colby
2. 2 pairs of stockings
3. a bra
4. candy
5. wooden eggs for my Easter baskets for my friends.
Daniel is still doing the dishes at 9:47 pm. He started about 9 pm. We saw "Raiders of the Lost Ark". I am tired.
Dan and I also painted Easter eggs. I made a bunny (weird drawing here) only it was cute!
Bye!

We played in puddles? I was how old? WTF? How sad is it that construction sites were considered fun for us? When I say I grew up in the country, I really mean it!
As punishment, and because I was too big to get spanked anymore, Dad made us do the dishes for a certain amount of time. A little lip at the dinner table would get us 2 nights. Causing the other sibling to bleed was a week. Breaking something of Dad's was 2 weeks. Getting grades below a B was a month. How that would help us spend more time on homework, I don't know.
Because I was evil, I'd dirty every piece of silverware in the house if Dan had dish duty. I'd bake cakes, cookies, and use everything that could be washed. I'd volunteer to clean out all the Tupperware containers of forgotten leftovers in the fridge.
Sorry, Dan.

I have 12 hours left of work.

Sorry about the title-last night I couldn't sleep because it's almost the end of the school year. Each June, it seems like last summer was forever and a minute ago. Did I really drive to the Grand Canyon?

Did I really get married?

We bought a house? WHAT???!!

Another reason why I couldn't sleep last night was the sheer joy of selling 20 oven mitts and 30 sets of potholders at the Rock and Roll Craft Show. I am well on my way to a sizeable down payment on a new car. I was so excited and thrilled at how well my humble kitchen wares did. As I lay in bed, images of future fairs and selling to actual stores drifted through my head. Even the book I'm reading, "The Devil In The White City" couldn't dispel those sugarplums.

I learned a few things this weekend:

List Of Things I Learned This Weekend

1. The public likes my oven mitts and can't tell the difference between poorly applied binding and well-applied binding.
2. I can price my potholders at $11 a pair and nobody bats an eye.
3. Other folks, as cheerful and wonderful as they may appear, are also not as perfect as I assume them to be. For some reason, I always assume I'm the one with all the problems and everyone else has a happy wonderful life. We all have problems, so it's nice to know I'm not alone. I miss having friends I could dish with. I hope my knitting group turns into those type of folks.
4. This war freaking sucks. It's not just the people actually in "the shit", it's the sisters and mothers and wives of those people who have to deal with the aftermath. Just like we're creating future terrorists out of little kids who see their parents die, we're also creating future pacifists and Democrats.
I keep asking Dan if he's okay, if he's having any flashbacks or depression yet. I guess after 2 years, I can stop, but after 2 years, I'm the one who can't watch the news or read the paper without getting teary-eyed. It's kinda f-ed up that I'm the one with the post-traumatic stress and Dan was the one who got shot at and fought scorpions.
5. St. Louis wants its crafts, and it wants them now.
6. I have a lot of sewing to do (again, sigh) for the Tower Grove Farmer's Market.
7. I really want a new car. I am unabashedly jealous of Beqi for getting one already. Yet, I also miss my Mazda.
8. My cute shoes hurt after wearing them for too long.
9. Karen/Diane can get me and 6 others into the Botanical Garden for free.
10. Hmm...I had to make an even 10.....okay-I know an awful lot of people in this city, all of whom appeared happy to see me. Yay for softball teams!

I'm baacckk

Here's a link to a good pic of the Gypsy Caravan...event on Memorial Day. I like Autumn because she's a positive thinker, but even she was a little dejected after 9 hours of sitting in the Libyan heat. However, she did take some good pics.
So, after all those hours of sewing potholders and mitts, and telling my husband that I'd come out of my sewing room eventually, I was a little let down at my sales at the Caravan. I'm not a complainer, but it was SO hot! I drank like 4 giant lemonades and only had to pee twice! I got sunburned UNDER my tent!
On a good note, I sold 19 oven mitts today at Rock and Roll Craft Show. That's 18 more than I sold on Monday. If you're local, you should go tomorrow.
I have 20 hours of work left before summer vacation. My classroom is pretty much packed and ready to go. I even had Lavell pick all the staples out of the bulletin board.
Time for a list:
20 Things I Plan To Do This Summer (in no particular order)

1. Weed all the purslane out of my garden.
2. Give my demonstration in writing class without getting nervous.
3. Blog each day.
4. Read Alice Sebold's "Lucky" because I loved "The Lovely Bones" all 5 times I've read it.
5. Read young adult literature.
6. Eat healthier.
7. Quilt the Chinese Coin quilt I've had laying around for 6 years.
8. Take a belly dancing class at the YMCA.
9. Go to the YMCA every other day.
10. Kick ass in the flower beds out front.
11. Buy a new car and be able to kiss my old one goodbye.
12. Visit Noel in Connecticut.
13. Talk to my grandmom about her life as a youth in New Jersey.
14. Not wear shoes for 50 % of my day.
15. Drink a lot of homebrewed ice tea.
16. Read.
17. Go to Ted Drewes once a week for the Crater Copernicus sundae and rationalize it by "Well, I'm walking there and back".
18. Hang out with Robin and drink iced mochas and make fun of art quilts.
19. For that matter, drive my new car to the Quilt Museum in Paducah, Kentucky.
20. Walk Maggie each morning, like the cool-looking girl who I see walking her two large beagles. I want to make friends with her, but how does a 33 year old make friends? I forget how! What if she thinks I'm a wack job?

I'm a walker, not a runner

I remember running around a lot when I was little. My brother and I would chase eachother all over the yard/fields/woods/house. This often led to injuries, most famous of which is the scar on my right arm. I had been antagonizing Daniel, and he started chasing me around the house.
As we circled my mother, hanging up clothes on the line, she yelled, "Knock it off before one of you ninnies gets hurt!"
Of course, we ignored her.
I ran into the house and slammed the door behind me. Daniel put out his hand to stop it, but instead, ran his hand through the glass. I shielded my face from the flying glass with my right arm, which is where the scar came from
My mother ran in, since it was obvious one of us "ninnies" had been seriously hurt.
"I told you this would happen!" She yanked the huge chunk of glass out of my arm and sent me to my room. I assume she did the same with Daniel.
Later, she brought up a glass of iced tea. I was sulking on my bed, reading Mary Poppins.
That, my friends, is when I started to hate running.

Monday, April 13, 1987
Dear Meredith,
We started track in gym today. YUCK! I turned around (when running) to wait for Lisa, and this large group of boys came and went around me all except for BC. He ran past and tickled me.

Tuesday, April 14, 1987
More track.
Nothin' new.
CT's mom is pregnant again


Ash Wednesday, April 15, 1987
Dear Nina,
Hi! I'm not babysitting for Molly anymore because she's quitting school. Why, I don't know. No more $!!
Maybe I can sell something to someone.
Dad saved a little baby bunny from Calicoon. Those things squeak SO LOUD!!! It was cut badly so Dan and I put it back in a rabbit ( I think) hole.
BC always hits me (not hard) on the head with the notebooks when he passes them out in icky Graphics. He's always staring at me. He called me a dyke and I just looked at him like huh?
We had this thing about commercials in Health today, and one was a laxative called Bombs Away!

Again, the things that went on in school that would be illegal today.
And, again, my father's ephemeral kindness. I sometimes think he likes animals better than people. Actually, I'm pretty sure he does. I think I do, too.
Here's what might be my worst yearbook photo. Bryan yelled my name (and probably something about the size of my boobs) just before the photo was snapped. Lexi's hair is right below me.

Where I've Been

If I could find the digital camera, I'd post pics, a la Blogity, to show you what my sewing room looks like. Imagine if a bomb went off in Hancock Fabrics, but didn't kill/hurt anyone or ruin any of their great fabric.
Beqi gifted me with another bag of scraps to add to the BOX of scraps she gave me for my birthday, which was in January.
I have barely touched the boxes of fabric in the basement.
I've run out of denim.
I've stopped being neat and am throwing scraps on the floor. They'll get swept up later.
I panicked when I realized I only had 2 Asian-esque potholder sets. They usually are my biggest sellers.
Gypsy Caravan and Rock and Roll Craft Show are in a week. One week! AIE!



Is $8.00 too much or too little? I priced the potholder sets at $11.00 this time. Are more people left or right handed? Will I ever be able to straighten up my sewing room?!!!

Free for all!

I think I fixed it so you can comment without having to join the blogger club. So, go nuts, everyone!

April 12, 1987

Sunday
April 12, 1987

Dear Louanne,
Sorry about the past few days, but they were BORING.
C. slept over the 10th. We watched Grease. Saturday was hot and boring. I let these kids in who wanted to take a picture of themselves in a bathtub for a scavenger hunt. My parents had a weird fit. They didn't yell at me or anything.
Today I played my flute in church. I did okay.
Bye!
Allison

Betsey told me Mike W. asked her out.

The moral here? Strangers who you let into your house will not always kill you and leave your body in a ditch.
Ah, Betsey....she was 2 grades above me and went to my church. She was like the older sister I didn't have. We bonded like white on rice. She was funny and sarcastic, I was funny and sarcastic. We liked U2. We thought one of the other girls in Youth Fellowship was a moron. We'd leave notes in eachother's lockers. Good times, that Betsey.

Close Encounter of the Third Kind

April 8, 1987

Dear Annie,
Hi.
Today I talked to BC in health. he says I am sexy. HA!
But in comparison, he also calls L. a FOXY babe! And he pulls her hair and calls her "gorilla". But he is nice, sort of, and H. thinks that he is cute. But, she also says he humps dogs. Bye!

Holly always had the wittiest turns of phrase. She was probably the funniest person I knew at the time. I hadn't started talking to Chris Joy yet, but he was also one funny motherfucker, in a delightfully cynical way.


April 9th, 1987
Dear Myrtle,
I am obsessed with "With or Without You" by U2. I need that tape! Whenever I hear that song, I think of me and "Keith" dancing together. (Or someone else. BC)
One of my fantasies is that Keith will move into one of the houses across from us in the woods. Then he would be at my official bus stop. He and I would go to all the dances and my friends would actually envy me because he would slow dance w/me. And he would be cute, slim, funny and also a sports person. He wouldn't have eyes for any other girls in his grade, only for me. I guess it's really stupid of me to keep on loving him. Even now with BC. BC doesn't even take his place. (But of course Keith didn't try anything. He wouldn't have anyway.)
I think BC has feelings for me. At the next dance, if he is there, he better dance with me. Maybe even slow dance!
Lovelorn,
Allison

Jesus, the real Allison shows up! Keith was my neighbor from the time I was in kindergarten to about 4th grade. I have no idea why I mentioned him after 5 years. I may have seen him in a restaurant in my old town. When I first met him, he was a year older than me. I had a huge crush on him, and I think he was the first boy I kissed. I had a coloring book of Barbie Gets Married or something, and I turned to the "Kiss The Bride" page to get an idea of what we should be doing. Luckily, the coloring book did not have "Barbie drinks too much at her wedding and pukes all over her Vera Wang".
And of course Keith didn't try anything-he was 8 or 9!
It kills me that I said "my friends would actually envy me". You can see how far down the totem pole I was. Why I wanted a "sports person" is beyond me. I guess it was a criteria because everyone at my school was into one sport or another. There were only 300 of us from grades 7 to 12, so we each wore many hats. Our cheerleading team never had tryouts. If you wanted to join, you were in. I myself was on the hockey team for a few weeks. I also was in Ski Club, Yearbook and Band.
BC, if you somehow come across this.....I am not ashamed. I liked you, big deal. So I obsessed a teensy tiny little bit. Just don't bring it up if I ever see you again!

100 Things I Like, No Order

One rainy summer night in Boston, Kate, Monty and I made a list of the Best Things In Life. And not all of them were free, mind you.

1. Rainy summer nights
2. Tea, hot or cold
3. Coffee, hot or iced
4. The smell of clean babies
5. The song of robins
6. My garden
7. My dog
8. Bubble gum
9. Peanut M&Ms
10. New York City
11. Chicago
12. Boston
13. Bratwurst and Bud at the ballpark
14. New Order
15. Mint chocolate chip ice cream
16. The smell of my parents' house
17. Spring peepers
18. Snow at night
19. a Korean dish called something like Bim Bap
20. Red wine
21. Beautiful sunsets
22. Seeing shooting stars
23. Findng a cool vintage sweater that fits perfectly and doesn't smell weird
24. Quilting
25. Fabric
26. My grandmother's house
27. Laying in the grass looking at the sky
28. Clean sheets (I've been on a Descendents kick)
29. Hearing a favorite song on the radio
30. Singing like a madwoman in traffic
31. Hot chocolate
32. Lemon bars
33. My parents' surviving cat, Clyde, who is very old
34. Volunteer tomato plants
35. Finding an active bird's nest
36. Irises
37. Creme brulee
38. Salmon (hmm...can I name 100 foods I like?)
39. Good hair days
40. Sleeping with the dog when M. is working overnight
41. Thunderstorms
42. My now old car
43. Finding vintage sewing books at thrift stores
44. Thrift stores
45. Cassette tapes
46. Indian food from Standard India on Belmont in Chicago
47. Cambridge, MA
48. Findng the first plant to come up in the spring
49. The smell of fall
50. Good dreams
51. Sterling silver
52. My hot glue gun scar
53. Hex sign tattoos
54. All things Amish
55. Music from Romania
56. Music from Brazil
57. Snickers bars
58. Nutty Buddies
59. Naps
60. When I used to ride my bike around Boston with Kate
61. Colored pencils
62. The Smiths
63. My wedding ring
64. Knitting in public
65. What Not To Wear
66. Walking the dog
67. When my betrothed tinkers with his scooter
68. Vintage jewelry
69. Seeing former students who are now tolerable individuals
70. Post Its
71. A warm breeze
72. Asian interior design
73. Art Nouveau
74. Swing music
75. The way the floor in Grandmom's quilting room slants
76. The church I used to attend
77. Cemetaries
78. Purple pens
79. A good Italian hoagie
80. The ice cream man
81. Van Halen
82. Mittens
83. Toads
84. Reading for hours in the summer
85. Summer vacation
86. Podunk towns in southern Missouri
87. The quilt museum in Paducah, Kentucky
88. Pulled pork sandwiches
89. Montana
90. My old house at Peter's Corner
91. Fresh cut grass
92. The smell of drying hay
93. Homegrown tomatoes
94. Zinnias
95. Moonflowers
96. My loyal orchids which bloom for 5 months
97. Being born in January
98. The idea of dowsing, which supposedly my grandfather could do
99. Watching my students get excited about reading
100. The shirt I'm wearing which Kate gave me (raglan sleeve grey and navy 3/4 sleeve)

The Potholder Racket, or, Eat My Shorts, Denyse Schmidt!

Some cities' organized crime families run things. The garbage, school milk, newspaper vending machines, etc.
I run the potholder racket in St. Louis. And, I've moved on to bigger and better things, namely MITTS!
The pictures you are about to see will thrill you. They may excite you. But I must warn you, these mitts are merely prototypes. Because I sometimes don't have a lot of common sense, I pieced a ton of mitt tops before testing to see how they would turn out. I had to have a stern talk with the free arm of my sewing machine to get the cuff bindng on. Apparently, the Singer wasn't listening. So, my mistake is your mitt. They will be on sale for $7.oo at Gypsy Caravan and The Rock and Roll Craft Show.
However, if you can give me a good reason why you need one and you'll promise to give me field test results, I'll mail it to you.

And you Saudis who keep looking for babes or hot blogger babes, you're in the wrong alley.
This is Squaresville territory.


For all you lefties out there:



And for the rest of you:





I was remiss in not giving a shout-out to Poppymom who alerted me to Denyse Schmidt's foray into housewares! Here is a link to the email that started it all.

And just as a disclaimer-I'd probably really like Denyse if we met. Her sense of color and shape is just the same as mine. The only difference is that I do all my quilting by my hand-I don't ship my quilts off to the Amish. *sniff*

Babes In the Woods

April 4, 1987,
Dear Corinne,
Hi. Today Steve and Sue got married. So, Mom and Dad were gone from 5 pm to after we were in bed. Dan and I went over into the woods and our sneakers were covered with mud. Icky poo! Nothing much happened Sunday.

Now, the odd thing about this, is that while visiting my parents at Christmas, I read the Christmas card Steve sent them. He felt the need to let them know, in a Christmas card, that Sue was not sure if she still wanted to be a wife and a mother to their 3 boys. Merry Christmas!
Steve was a childhood friend of my dad's. I guess he'd be in his fifties now.
When I was little, he'd come over every Sunday morning for coffee and to help renovate our house. He always had a knife in a sheath on his belt. I had a minor crush on him. He liked messing around with my brother and I-holding us upside down, tickling us, telling us crazy lies about monsters he'd seen in our house. We loved him.
He met a chiropractor named Sue, who we also loved the first time we met her. I remember she had dyed blonde big hair. She was a little New Age, but my dad liked her anyway, because she teased him.
Apparently, things change a lot when you're hitched and fertile. They always seemed like the perfect couple.
Apparently

April 6, 1987
Dear Andrea,
Today we started a new marking period. I have Spanish, Graphics (ick) and typing instead of study hall! Waahhh!
But I love the typing room. It's half underground, so the bottom of the windows are at ground level. It's fun.
BC is in my Spanish and graphics class. Everytime I look at him, he's looking right back at me. Eeeuuuhhh! Probably thinking of how far he could go with me. How far? Not an inch!
Love,
Allison

In graphics class, we made several kinds of prints, such as etching glass and linoleum. We got to use pencils that were NOT No.2, which was a treat. It involved a lot of measuring and line drawing. Graphics class was the only class I got kicked out of. I was wearing a green calico prairie skirt with lace along the hem. As this was the new fashion, I was feeling cute. After being told to be silend, I whispered to L. "Did he say a half inch or 5/8ths?"
Mr. Pickett freaked out and told me to go the office. The class fell into shocked silence. Allison had never been sent to The Office.
"What?" I asked.
"Go to the office-I'm tired of telling you to stop talking."
I looked around the room, thinking this was a dream. Nobody breathed. I heard the clock tick. I picked up my notebooks and purse and walked through the silent hallways.
"What are you doing here?" Mr. Bright said.
"Mr. Pickett told me to come to the office," I whispered. Only the older kids ever got into trouble.
Mr. Bright gave me a speech about how we have 3 holes in our face, and one should be shut during class. That's the mouth, if you didn't know.
Graphics. It's a hoot!

I show algebra who's who

April 2, 1987
Dear Sybil,
Nothing interesting happened today, but, I got a 94% on my math test!! I love it! I love it! I love it!
I got my TV tonight!

April 3, 1987
Dear Eleanor,
Today, Buddy Rich died. Now Holly's father is out of a job.
Today the local pervert (BC) tried to feel for my bra strap. Goddamn sex pervert!
It's raining. Mom and Dad got new clothes for Steve's wedding. All today I kept thinking of Sue.
BCis an asshole.
Love,
Me

Yet another example of shit that would not be tolerated in my school. Sure, kids get away with a LOT, but that's another post. However, I know I probably didn't need a bra, and was just wearing a training bra (what an odd idea...training....to wear a bra) so I wouldn't be half naked in the locker room.
Yes, it was that bad, ladies, and whatever gentlemen are reading this. Probably a lot, since I used the words "pervert" and "bra".
In 7th grade, I always wore a t-shirt underneath my top shirt/sweater so that when I changed in the locker room, I wouldn't have to display my flat chest. Keep in mind, I had friends who were born with big hooters. I was a sparrow among ostriches. I had all sorts of tricks-I'd go to the bathroom in the locker room and change there. I'd run to the locker room and change before everyone else arrived. Or, I'd dilly dally and take my time.
When I think about the stress and energy I wasted on worrying about my wee boobies, I could puke. I could have been developing a plan to feed starving kids. Or curing cancer. But, I was 13, and painfully obsessed with how tiny I was. I didn't even break 100 pounds until my family went to Montana when I was 16, and I was forced to eat 3 meals a day. My summer vacation diet of pbj and iced tea was ruined.
I wished and prayed for my hooters to grow. I did pushups. I wore layers to give the appearance of a larger chest. I chose the colors of my clothes carefully. I wore short skirts to draw attention to my stick legs. I carried notebooks close to my chest to hide what wasn't there.
If only someone had said to me what I say to my students who express this same worry to me: "There are tons of men out there who like women who are smaller up top. There are men who like a little more up there. There are men who like short women. Tall women. Plump women. Stick women. If you like a guy who doesn't like you because of your chest, forget him. Many people will find you attractive because of how you're shaped. Stop fucking worrying about it and do your homework!"
Well, I don't cuss, but the kids get the point. The other day, one asked me (in front of the whole damn class! Sheesh!) "Mrs. R? Has a boy ever not liked you because you weren't big enough?"
"Honey," I said, "the only thing about me that has ever been big is my mouth and my brain."

See, I'm not fooling! This very unflattering picture of my fishbelly white self is proof. Please be kind in your comments.

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.

Spring Break Special

Hi again, folks. In honor of my Spring Break, I am posting TWO posts today, because I can't flash you my boobies, get my hair corn-rowed, get sunburned, or have sex with frat boys, or drink until I pass out in the shrubbery. That's my brother's job, anyway. The drinking, not the sex or boobie flashing.
So, here goes.

March 26, 1987
Dear Monique/Monica,
I cannot get this one algebra problem. I HATE IT!!!
C. is being such a jerk lately. I have no idea what her problem is. Maybe it's that time again. She kicked me in gym! And she doesn't say anything to me that is comprehensible. I ask if we need our history books and she says "mnph".
That is really getting on my "noyves".
Bodie is such a pervert. He's always trying to feel the girls out.
LW says that this (the C. thing) always happens right after C. goes to the mall with a friend. The next few days, she ignores them. I wanna KNOW WHY!
"Because inquiring minds wanna know".
Dawn Moresi is pregnant. So is Nancy Glass (Evening Magazine) and Cybil Shepard.
The one, the only,
au revoir,
Allison

I was constantly diagnosing people. And isn't the term "feeling the girls out" hysterical? You can take it literally and figuratively.
Dawn lived next door to H. H. always swore she saw Dawn and her boyfriend doing "it", because their bedroom windows were parallel. Dawn was in 12th grade, I think, and was the first teen mom I saw. It seems strange that I didn't go off on a rant about unwed mothers and bastards and sex before marriage. Not that I disapproved of pre-marital sex, it just hadn't crossed my mind. Instead, I focus my capital letters on C.
In 5th grade, we were best friends, but by 8th, she was moving in a different direction, not waiting for me to catch up. I wasn't sure I wanted to catch up with her. I liked my calmer friends like LW and H., who weren't as moody or physically violent.
Is it wrong to spell out whole names? What are the chances of C. actually finding this blog? What do you think?

To my special guest from Wyoming

I have totally been in Riverton! If you come back to read, I'll detail the "vacation" my family took to Montana during the summer I was 16. I think I even have pictures of your fair town.

No Witty Title Today

Yesterday, I typed this entry up. I had a clever title, but with a click of the mouse, all my creativity was gone. Today's entry documents the first written account of my hate affair with math. It was only after years of cashiering that I became proficient in the basics. I could count out the change before the register told me the amount. I can figure and add a 20% tip to any restaurant bill, and use that same skill to take 75% off already discounted women's winter wear.
My math life wasn't always like this. In second grade, I remember feeling a little lost when we counted up pennies and dimes and nickels. It was like I couldn't recognize that a penny was one tenth of a dime, which was one tenth of a dollar. And the half dollar? Fugetaboutit.
I have a distinct memory of my dad "helping" me with math homework in fifth grade. It was late. I was sobbing with misery and frustration. He would not let me go to bed until I got my homework done. Dad couldn't understand why I couldn't understand how to subtract 872 from 2000, for example.
Today, I can look at that problem, add 3 to get 75, add 25 to get 900, and then add 1100 to get 2000, for a grand total of 1128. It was all the carryng and borrowing from the zeroes that blew me away.
"But it's a ZERO! How can I borrow anything from it? It doesn't HAVE anything!!!" I cried. "What the hell is the matter with you? Why can't you get this! It's not really a zero!" Dad also cried.
If only he had put me in a minimum wage job behind a register for a year, then I would have understood the value of every freakin' penny.

March 24, 1987

Dear Francie,
I am really depressed right now at 8:54 pm. I cannot understand how to get formulas for algebra. I HATE THAT CLASS!! Mr. Ockenhouse is a cheap teacher! I don't know why he was hired, he himself said he was terrible at math when he was in school!
I HATE SCHOOL!
I RETIRE, QUIT,END, DROP OUT! I DON'T WANT ANYMORE!
Allison

Yeah, the Ockenhouse dynasty. Mr. Ockenhouse always reminded me of Jack Sprat. His wife, Senora Ockenhouse, taught Spanish. In 8th grade, we took a quarter of Spanish, and then a quarter of French to see which we liked and would pursue to meet the state foreign language requirement.
Senora Ockenhouse had a lot of "junk in the trunk", if you get my drift. She was tall, big, loud, and not inviting to meek, quiet little smart kids like me.
Madame Stern, on the other hand, wore funky culottes in weird fabrics. She especially liked les grenouilles (frogs). One pair of culottes had frogs on them. She enjoyed art and reading, and the finer things in life, which I did too. Hence, my 4 years of French, even though she always asked about my crabs (see earlier post).
Senora Ockenhouse was always pregnant. They had 4 boys and I think, finally, a girl by the time I graduated in 1991. They drove the first minivan I ever saw.
Damn, I wish I could remember what I typed last night. I am sure it was witty and would inspire many comments.
Oh yeah, Algebra was the only class I ever cheated in. To be fair, it is also a math skill I have actually used in real life. I make quilts, so geometry is my friend. Calculus, which doesn't even USE number, for chrissakes, has never helped me figure yardage. Trigonometry, taught by Mr. Bongiovanni, has never appeared in my adult life. I got B's in Trig, though-my best math grades ever.
Mr. Bongiovanni was a big Italian (naw-did you think he was Irish?) wrestling coach math teacher, which you'd think would have scared the trig into my brain, but he was super nice and a good teacher. I won't go into Calculus, except to say that the teacher wore WHITE linen pants through which you could see his underwear.

A Happy Day of Leisure

March 22, 1987
Dear Courtney,
Today was the best day I've had this month! It was sunny as hell, no wind, Dan and I rode our bikes up and down Aquetong Road. We made telephones out of cans, I mended my clothes, got my homework done, and Dad was in a good mood all day!
It was great!
G'night,
Allison

Cans. I made a can telephone and thought it was awesome. "CAN" you tell I lived in the country?! Actually, can phones are interesting and magical to kids. In fact, there's a styrofoam cup telephone sitting on my desk at school right now.
Aquetong is an Indian word. You can imagine the various ways I've seen it spelled. We lived where the Lenni Lenape Indians used to live. My mother found arrowheads in the creek when she was little. If you think "Aquetong" was bad, we used to live on "Scholl's School Road". Aquetong is pronounced like "Ack wa tong", not Aqualung.
And a day when my dad was cheerful ALL day? Stop the presses! Usually on the weekends, we'd be put to work, like child slaves. There were always rocks to be picked or dug out of the garden, or wood to stack, or a garage to clean out, or laundry to do, or something to be sanded/painted/washed/ spackled/etc. We'd get sent outside at 9 or so, and were allowed inside for lunch or to pee. If our dad came in and saw us sitting around, he'd say, "What the hell's the matter with you? Get your ass outside-you're not done! I work all goddamned week and it would't kill you to help out a little around here!"
Fatherly love. Nowdays, at 9 am on Saturdays, I'm up, showered, breakfasted, and ready to do something. Not sure what, but my hands itch to get busy. Yesterday, for example, I worked on moving the contents of the old compost bin into the new one I made. I sewed, I did 4 loads of laundry, I changed the sheets, I picked up the dog poo in the yard.
Today, I sewed, washed my car, ran the dishwasher, went to Hancock Fabrics, Jo-Ann Fabrics, went to knitting, came home and washed the fabrics I bought today. And now, I rest.
Thanks Dad, for making sure I'd always feel bad about sitting around and doing nothing. But thanks also for making sure I developed a healthy work ethic. There will always, always be something to do.

Guess? what

Ugh. Upon reading this, I want to eat more Girl Scout cookies and hide in my house. I was SUCH a FASHION WHORE!

March 21, 1987
Dear Louisa,
Hi. Sorry about the last few days, but nothing happened.
Today, I went to Oxford Valley Mall with C. I got a soft yellow Outback Red shirt, a black pair of pants, and a jean skirt. I wanted a jean jacket, but I ran out of money.
C. is always acting contrary to her mom. That really gets to me sometimes. I hate her car!
L. has been asking H. if she can borrow a pair of H's Guess? pants. H says absolutely no way in hell. She got Guess? overalls today. I like H. She doesn't show of her Guess? jeans like Tracey or Bobbie. I really want a pair though.
Bye!
Allison

Again, UGH. How exactly does one show off pants? Don't you just wear them? I ended up getting a Guess? jean skirt from my cousin Crystal the summer before 9th grade, I think. She lived in Fort Worth, so she must have been visiting my grandmom of knitting fame.
Outback Red. Now there's some bad clothing design. The shirt I speak of had that funny tab across the top button, a rounded hem in front, but a square hem in back. I think it had something on the upper sleeve, too.
At our school, the big haired girls wore their shirts tucked in the front, but left the back out, creating a diaper-esque look. I admit to doing it. As you may have guessed, I have no shame.
The black pants, if I recall, buttoned on the side, instead of having a zipper like every other damned pair of pants I could have bought. They lasted me for years, though. It was a frugal purchase!!
C's family car was roughly the size of the Ark. It was red with a white rag top. There were little windows on the sides next to the regular windows. It was white on the inside. I think they got it from a relative. C's mom produced nothing but girls, 5 I think by now. Her mom was super nice and sweet, but her stepdad was a jerk. What was it with me and evil stepdads?
Aie! My eyes are Creationists!!! My computer thinks dinosaurs never existed! I apologize for that freaking Ark link. Takes all kinds.

Romy and Michelle

I love reading diary entries where I wax rhapsodic on the virtues of a new product, which has now become commonplace. I'm sitting in front of a trio of New Age-y Post-Its. They are grey, and have black and white pics of stones on them. Calming, rounded, natural stones. I won them at a bridal shower this summer-I didn't buy them. Heck, I've never bought office products-I just get them from school!

March 17, 1987, Tuesday

Dear Alicia,
Hi. Sunday, I went with C to Roadside America. Today was boring. Yesterday, L brought in this little note pad with sticky on it so you could post it (note) to something. She put one on H's back and it stayed until 3rd period. She really aggravates me sometimes.
C told me that Connie and Tracey are not virgins. I believe it. We (C and me) are writing a story about BW as a little kindergardener.
Ta ta!
Me

Okay, we were in 8th grade. 8th graders should be virgins. Now, based on the percentage of rumor mixed in with bragging, I'm only 50% sure that Connie and Tracey were telling the truth.
And the story thing? C was a great writer. I was too. In 7th grade, we co-wrote a long ass story about the childhoods of Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith from Tears For Fears. Yes, C had an unhealthy obsession with TFF. She collected every 7", 12" and Euro import record she could. For you younguns, music stores used to sell records in an unironic way.
So, we'd each write a couple pages or so, and pass it to the other. Our TFF story involved child abuse and alcoholism, thus spurring Roland and Curt to go into music to make money for therapy as adults. That last part was true-I heard it on a radio interview with them.
Later on, we'd write stories about Mike (our 9th grade crush-Hi Mike!) and the prequel to the movie "Willow". Thinking about it now, it was somehow like masturbating. Stay with me here...I'll explain.
I was too young, too ugly, and too scared of boys to do anything with them. Also, my parents ruled with an iron fist. So, I got my jollies by writing about my fantasy boyfriend, or movie role romance. You get it? Now, our stories weren't sexual by any means, but involved a lot of "Mike saw Allison and was amazed by how cute she was", or "Madmartigan swept Allison up in his burly sweaty arms and kissed her neck and her face".
C and I had code names for the Rennaisance Faire/Willow story, but I can't remember them.
And, lastly, Post Its. Again, L had all the cool things first, even though she was the only person I knew who got free lunch.
H and I had a love/hate relationship. I liked her freedom and sense of humor, but was always trying to keep my place in the pecking order, which led to making fun of her if others did. She was also guaranteed to freak out amusingly when she discovered any prank played on her. I feel a lot of remorse for teasing her like I did, even to this day. We became good buds in our 20's, when she moved to Boston. Many, many, many drunken nights at The Model and our apartment.
*sigh*
I know I'm going to get a lot of site visits by pimply teenaged boys who are not interested in 1987. Hi guys! Go visit my store at www.squaresville.etsy.com! There's not a lot in there now, but "please...keep me in mind..." (Smiths, dumbass!)
Oh yeah, you people need to comment!
I love Matt because he's burning "The Hurting" onto CD right now, so I don't have to listen to my cassette tape of it.

Owl pellets

In rereading this entry, looking for a witty title, I discovered the term "owl pellets". Now, most of you probably aren't that familiar with the digestive products of owls, so here's a good link.
And since Poppymom gave me props on her blog, I really have to post more. Yesterday, blogger.com was down, I swear!
March 14, 1987
Saturday

Dear Maureen,
Well, last night's dance was a fiasco. First of all, no boys from my grade came, only me and 9 other girls. Second, the DJ people coldn't get their equipment working, and they only played 5 1/2 songs! C was a jerk last night. She hung around with Connie and AD. I don't like who she's turning into! Today was interesting! Dan and I went over to Mr. Connelly's (4-H leader-Wildlife) and I found owl pellets (casts).

Yes, surprisingly, no boys came to the dance. What a shocker. I can only hope I didn't do the A-Ha dance I blogged about last month.
And yes, I was in 4-H for a couple years. My mom had always waxed nostalgic about her years in it, so my brother and I had no choice. Looking back now, I'm glad she exposed us to so many things. We were also in the library's Stamp Club and of course, the Summer Reading Club.
Our 4-H meetings were held in a different school district, so I didn't know any of the kids. The other girls were just as snotty and mean to me as the ones in my own school. It was always uncomfortable, sitting there for an hour each week, making small talk at age 13. Thank god my brother was there to keep me company.
I went to 4-H summer camp (not band camp, you perv) twice. The best thing about it was an older camp counselor who had a Mohawk and wore a Dead Milkmen t-shirt. I didn't know who they were at the time, but it made an impression on me. I thought she was totally cool!
Aside from that, those were the loneliest 2 weeks of my life. Why were people not friendly to me? Was it the way I looked? Sure, I was geeky, but didn't anyone see my sparkling personality and wit? Oh wait-I get shy in social situations and clam up.
But, while in 4-H, I won a bunch of awards for cooking, sewing, and gardening. I met a girl named Tara Althouse, who later worked with me at my first real job. We kind of bonded, being the dorkiest of our club.
In 9th grade, I told Mom that I was done with 4-h. She was saddened and surprised to hear my view of how torturous those meetings were. "But I had such fun in 4-H when I was little!" she exclaimed.
"That was 30 years ago!" I answered. "Kids aren't nice to each other anymore! I hate Meg! She always looks at me and laughs!"
She sighed, but she could see how I felt. Inside, I felt kinda bad, like I was letting her down somehow, but I got picked on enough at school, I didn't need any more torment from kids who didn't even GO to my school! Besides, I wanted to stay home and listen to the cool music I had heard on the Princeton University radio station. Imagine, a band called "Black Flag", like the bug spray!

Hoity-toity me

March 12, 1987

Dear Joanne,
Today was tiring. I skipped last night because I was babysitting until 10:30 for an illegitimate baby. Isn't that a hell of a thing?
So, I'm worried about C. Yesterday, I heard she went with AD, Ben, Connie, and Tracey to a cemetary. I just hope they don't get her to turn bad or something. Tracey doesn't even like her! She was making fun of her skirt in reading today. C isn't in my reading.
AD is okay, but Ben? Please!!! He is the stupidest person in our class next to L.
We got 2 more hermit crabs today because Perrin (sob!) died. I didn't name mine yet, but I think I like Johann. Tory. No! Nothing with a name ending in "ie". I can't decide if it's a boy or girl, though.
I'll name him King Tut! Yes! because he is huge (well, big) and his shell is cone shaped!
I am wasting paper so bad. I love Eric Schneider! I hope he dances with me tomorrow at the dance!

So, yeah....this was the beginning of the end of the sanity of my friend C. In a few months, you'll read about how she started carving herself and smoking cigarettes! Horrors!
The "bad" kids in our school started hanging out in the New Hope cemetary after school. New Hope was the name of our town, not the cemetary. At the time, it seemed very dark and evil and scary to me-this hanging out with dead folks. Ha ha-The Misfits just came on shuffle on Matt's iPod/stereo set up!
Alyssa later became a hippie, Connie, so I heard, STILL lives in New Hope, and Ben? Who knows? I don't know why I disliked him so much. When he first came to our school in 6th grade, I got along with him. Much later on, he moved to another district, but still hung out in our town some weekends. We'd see him and shoot the breeze for a while. I feel bad now for hating him merely because he had what must have been a learning disability. He was a genuinely nice guy. Ben, I'm sorry! I was 14 and judgemental! You were really hot the last time we saw you!

double superlatives, away!

It's funny to read these old writings of mine, and notice all the grammatical errors. In my mind, I was really smart and had a perfect grasp of the English language.
5 years of teaching English has sharpened my eye, and I now see spelling errors everywhere. In fact, at the Deals on S. Kingshighway, there was a sign up yesterday reading "Sorry we our out of helium. Thank you." Thank you for what? For not barging into the store like a crazed rhino screaming "WHO WROTE THAT SIGN? WHY DO YOU HAVE A JOB? TAKE IT DOWN NOOOOWWWWW so my husband and I can stop giggling in the parking lot." Oh, how I long for a camera phone.

March 10, 1987

Dear Melanie,
Today was boring. I have to be in a group with DJ (snob) and VS for Reading. That is the most boringest class in the history of Earth. I must write a letter to Paul in Ireland asking for lotsa information on Ireland for our project in Reading. He better write back!
I have to get some sleep since I got hardly any last night because I babysit Mondays and Wednesdays.
bye,
Allison

My hermit crab might be dead!!! Waaahhhh!! :(

Yes indeedy, "most boringest". The teacher, Ms. Behler, had dark blonde permed hair which resembled a poodle's ears. She was always very tan. Rumor had it that she was doing our assistant principal Mr. Righi. I hated her because she ended every sentence spoken to a student with "pumpkin", "sweetie", "honey", etc, etc. She was chirpy and bubbly and made me hate the one thing I used to love the most in the world-reading. I didn't need to know how to find the meanings of words in context. I knew all the vocabulary words she gave us. My reading speed was off the charts, as was my comprehension. Heck, I was probably reading when I popped out of Carolyn!
And the hermit crabs-we had a couple, and they were pretty interesting pets. Each new school year, my French teacher Madame Stern would ask "How are your crabs, Allison?" much to the amusement of my classmates. For the rest of the day, the cool kids would echo her words in the hallway. I hated the first day of French class.
Back then, I thought she didn't know the double entendre (ha! I DO know French!) of her words, but now I know she did it to torment me. I talked a LOT in French class, both in English and French.
So now I teach reading, and I can only hope I'm not killing some kid's favorite activity. Wait-65% of my school's students read below a 7th grade level, so I guess I'm safe!
Paul was my Irish penpal who corresponded with me for years. I developed a crush on him, and dreamed of moving to Ireland to marry him and hang out with U2. He came to Boston once, and we hung out, and he wore a tie-dye t-shirt, successfully dashing all my fantasies of becoming an Irish citizen. Sorry, Bono, we'll never get to chill!

March 8, 1987

Sorry for the lapse in blogging. I was in Chicago last Thursday, Friday and weekend. This week sucked at work and I've been sewing like a madwoman.
Upon reading this, I ask why did I write such boring stuff? I mean, really! Why did I think that future generations would need to know what the temperature was? Or how my grandmother taught me to knit by fear?

March 8, 1987
Dear Luanne,
Today I rode down to Grandmom's and started knitting a country blue Shaker sweater. It is fun, except I have to go slow unless I make a mistake. Then it's off with my head!!

Anyway, today was up to about 75 degrees! I wore shorts! It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Barf gag, gross, nowayhosea, absolutely not young man!
Tired as shit!
Allison

I'm gonna put a different name for my diary each night. Love and other indoor sports!

Like I said, dullsville! I drew a picture of me in a sweater with a mistake and a line across my neck. The phrase "love and other indoor sports" is from a teen novel, not my own ingenuity.
And shorts? Knowing me, they were probably Jams I made myself. I wish I had a picture of them to post. I am SO glad capris came into style. I can ease my way into blinding the world with my legs. Have you ever seen how naturally Marilyn Manson-like pale I am? I'm actually darker now than I was then at least on my face. I suppose that's from years of working at the snack bar at the Village 2 pool, and from walking the dog so much. Oh, and going to the Grand Canyon last summer and burning the shit out of my lips.