Happy Halloween everyone, and remember that all that candy isn't going to eat itself. We all have our responsibilities here, and I don't want to hear of any of you guys shirking.
Happy Halloween everyone, and remember that all that candy isn't going to eat itself. We all have our responsibilities here, and I don't want to hear of any of you guys shirking.
Hi Adam! Kiss Kristi and the kids for me!
Jen always laughed at Sam because at night Sam would turn on the stair light, walk upstairs, cross the wide hall and turn on her bedroom light before she'd cross back across the hall to turn off the stair light. Jen teased Sam that she was afraid of the dark. Sam hated to admit that her childhood fear, the one that hadn't bothered her in years, was rearing it's head again.
Sam hated to say that she didn't feel at all at ease in the house late at night, much as she loved it during the day. She and Jen loved the view from the living room, the small high fence yard between the garage and the front door where you could safetly sunbathe nude, the secret door behind the hall cupboard shelves that led to a tiny room where you couldn't even stand up straight. Little things like that door made Sam suspect that the townhouses were older than they appeared, and it was the oldness that somewho bothered her. It didn't feel old like your great grandmother's house kind of old, more like an old hotel Sam had briefly lived in, where the noises of people seeped in from every angle, like the house was utterly soaked in the presence of people.
Sam hated to say it because she suspected Jen, despite her bravado, knew what she meant, and it felt so silly. Plus Jen had been spending more and more time in her room, and Sam knew she was feeling depressed. Sam didn't want to introduce or reinforce morbid ideas she herself was fending off.
So while it was Sam that sometimes a cold chill of irrational fear on the stairs and felt more aware of what she could only describe as 'something that doesnt like me' upstairs, it was Jen who really broached the subject, two days after she took a nasty fall down the stairs. Jen confessed, in the subdued tone of someone expecting to be called crazy because they were calling themselves crazy, that she'd felt two hands flat on her back right before she fell. Hands that pushed.
Jen and Sam had always always described themselves as somewhere between apathetic and skeptical on the subject of ghosts and had decided that they weren't about to let their imaginations run away with them. They wrote their fear off as what can happen when two imaginative girls live alone, in a city far from home, in an older house with normal old creaks and groans. "If we look for something, we're bound to find it." Then they drank another bottle of wine and decided "for no particular reason" to sleep on the living room couches.
Jen later said, "I can't SEE her, but she's a woman." Sam didn't say anything. She didn't disagree, but she just couldn't admit that she felt aware of her as well.
A week later Sam was stayed up to watch the first half of Leno (no good guests on that night) and as she walked up the stairs, she chided herself for thinking the cold draft was anything but just that, a cold draft. As she got to the top, she looked across the hallway. If she put one hand on the stair light switch, and stretched her other hand out, there was only another four feet between her outstretched hand and her bedroom doorframe. "I'm not a child," she thought as she flicked off the stair light switch, and shared the dark that bathed the whole house. Keeping her arm out high and outstretched, knowing she had four goodsized steps before she hit the wall, with nothing in the hallway but her and a picture on the wall, she took one step, then started to take a second, when her hand touched hair. Long hair.
She recoiled but not before rolling a few strands between her fingers. She threw the light switch back on. Nothing. No one. Jen's creaky bedroom door was still shut. There was no way she'd misjudged the distance between the walls, and nothing about wall that could have felt like hair. Nothing was even remotely in her path, nothing fell down from the ceiling, no pets in the house to have jumped up. Her own hair was cut right below her ears, and it wasn't her unraveling sleeve as she was wearing a tank top.
Sam went to bed that night with the hall light and her own bedroom light still on.
Jen was retreating farther and farther into herself. Within a few weeks, Sam realized that Jen needed help, help she was refusing to get. She began lashing out at Sam, and her paranoid delusions showed how far her active, sane mind had fallen. Sam felt helpless and not feeling very sane herself, after her experience in the hallway. Besides confiding her concerns with Jen's family, Sam didn't know what to do. She decided to leave.
On the day she left, she stood in the doorway and paused for just a moment. She wanted to go back upstairs to where she knew Jen was sleeping. She knew Jen wasn't speaking to her, for some imagined injury, but she wanted to say goodbye. She wondered if Jen would be able to hear her, to see her, to accept her well wishes, but she knew it was hopeless.
There wasn't a breath of wind in the early fall morning, but suddenly the front door swung with force, pushing her roughly forward out of the house.
Sam got in her car and drove away, for three days without stopping. Jen's family had promised to watch out for her, but Sam never saw Jen again.
I have no idea what really happened in that house, but I know it's a true story.
I was Sam.
I'm so utterly obsessed with it now. It's not the possible presense of ghosts that amuses me so much. It's the undeniable presense of BATSHIT-CRAZY people.
Have any of you seen this? It must be seen to be believed. I swear.
Ok, so they have this really apathetic guy in the studio who says things like, "Ok, so it appears our team is in trouble, one of them has collapsed and can't breathe. Karl, can you tell use about the prizes we have for our trivia contest winners?" in the most monotone voice ever.
He also interviewed a historical expert who said with a straight face, "Oh yes, the prostitutes of this brothel were accustomed to recieving the seamen of London." I SWEAR to you, he said that.
Then there's the team. I Y the team so much I want to dance a polka with them, in the nude. They are so off their collective rockers, it's beautiful.
They go into a supposedly haunted building with a team of night vision camera men and sound guys, and a few extra 'experts' and a dog that is supposedly barking at ghosts when he stares at nothing and yaps his head off (every dog owner in the world is like, 'Huh? That's what dogs DO.') Since nothing at all happens, they are reduced to describing the atmosphere of the place, as evidence for the existense of ghosts. It becomes more or less a competition between the hosts to describe the strangest ailment, and to whip each other up in a slumber party-like atmosphere. Really, once they brought out the, however you spell it, wee-gee board, I couldn't believe they weren't wearing pjs and facial masks. Full grown men were acting like they were about to french braid each other's hair and then shriek when they saw something in the window. One man walked around taking people's tempature on different parts of their body and comparing them. "Wow. Your head is two degrees warmer than your forarm. Strange happenings here."
That's where I come in. I need to be on this show. Put me in coach! I know I can up the chaos ante right before every commercial break, I just know I can. I can make up strange afflictions, "As soon as I walked in, I could just feel this crushing pressure, as if the tops of my earlopes we're being slowly folded down......." and blame it on the ghosts. I can see tables move that no one else noticed moving. I can scream out of nowhere, whenever it starts getting boring, "I CAN'T FEEL MY FINGERNAILS!!". I can run naked past the camera, my white butt glowing green in the night vision, and later claim I'd been possesed.
Pleaseohpleaseohplease. I've never in my life wanted anything so badly.
I'm asking you.
What would you have done?
Hmmmmm?
What should I have done when I got coerced into entering the pumpkin carving contest at Jefe's party, even when I knew they'd smach the losing pumpkins at that end and I was entering last minute with no real time to do anything artistic except hack some crude eye and mouth holes and steal a staplegun from his garage and turn it into Frankenpumpkin that ALMOST won the competition but didn't and so I was about to be forced to smash my own precious creation that I had grown to love for his roughly shaped yet friendly smile, WHAT WAS I TO DO, really, but toss the car keys to David with a wink, pick my innocent-/ stupid-/ friendly-looking Frankenpumpkin up slowly as if we were about to comply with the pumpkin execution, and then bolt the opposite direction, bouncing with a heavy pumpkin and jump into my waiting car and yell, "Go, hit it, SAVE THE FRANKENPUMPKIN!" while my friends chased me?
Jefe, if you're reading this, YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE! Oh, and it was a great party, had fun, sorry I didn't get to say goodbye.
So then I said, "What's the 'more' in the 'fish and more' meal?"
So then Lou said, "Sugar. The OTHER happy white powder."
So then I said, "Lou! I know I raised you better than that! We don't DO med. sized coffees! Put that back and get a large!"
So then Lou said, "Can we switch back to the ghost show? Pam Anderson SCARES me."
So then I said, "Dude. Gandalf is smoking. Actually, so is his car."
Last night David suddenly decided he want a costume. I thought it was bold/careless/incredibly niave of him to say, "I don't know what to be, and could you make me a costume to wear?" considering that I still have old ballet costumes in the closest, tons of glitterly makeup, and no sense of shame whatsoever. That's a brave man.
But on that kind of timeframe, what's a girl to do but throw a slipcover on him and call him an armchair?
No, I'm actually not kidding.
VJ - "Wha ...............? I mean, ok! Wait, why? Which one of my pets did you just kill?"
David - "None of them!!!!"
*long pause*
VJ - "Which one of my pets is dead and you don't want to tell me until I have a new pet in my hands to distract me from a big hysterical crying fit?"
David - "None of them. That I know of ................ *walks around quickly* ............. yeah, none."
*long pause*
VJ - "You can't have Dulce, no matter what you give me."
David - "Dulce loves me more (editors note - LIE!) anyway, but that's not what I'm trying to do."
*long pause*
VJ - "Is this like a confront your fears thing? Is it a pet pincher bug or something?"
David - "No."
*very, VERY long pause*
VJ - "Sheesh, what the heck, did you back your car over my mother or something!?!?"
David - "No. Put your shoes on, we're going. I have it all picked out."
I love him. HE BOUGHT ME A PET.
A WHOLE ENTIRE PET TO NAME AND LOVE AND POKE AT THE GLASS AND ATTRIBUTE HUMAN THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS TO AND LOVE OH SO DEARLY.
This is how to win my love, people.
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Wayne.* I love him like the wombat I always wanted as a child.
* Actually a cousin's of Wayne, that happened to have his picture on google images.
Receptionist - "Well, it didn't make sense to dress as what I am every other day of the year."
A winter in Mexico, in the pines, with millions of butterflies, that's my idea of heaven.
- When I sneeze or blow my nose, I feel compelled to look at the tissue for a second before I throw it away. I have no idea why.
- My nickname in high school was Cheese Nip. My friend Lissy offered one to me, "Cheese Nip?" and I, not seeing the bag, responded, "Yes, dear?" I LIKED that nickname.
- If it isn't a poisonous spider, I don't kill it. I let it stay in my apartment.
- My Other Homie in Marketing says it's funny when I mention on my blog that I haven't brushed my hair for days, because he sees me everyday and can verify that it's true.
- The inspiration for my breakfast today was a craving for an gradeschool lunch. So I had white bread with peanut butter, fruit and an orange soda. It was GREAT.
- I don't like breakfast cereals except the really healthy ones. Even as a kid, I'd only really go as far as to eat Rice Chex or Cheerios. Raisin Bran was ok if they didn't try to sugarcoat the flakes. I loved Shredded Wheat, until they kept trying to put frosting on it. Ick. Don't even try to come at me with something like Lucky Charms. Blech! I'd rather eat oatmeal.
- That said, I would rather steal a spoonful of brown sugar while making cookies, than actually eat a cookie. I don't make any sense, I know. My brother used to joke that it made him nervous when I'd bake cookies, but wouldn't eat them.
- I had one odd chopstick, and I felt sorry for it and couldn't throw it away. So I added little blue star streamery-thingies to the end and made it my coffee stirrer at work. I love it and I'm glad I found a use for it.
- I relate very much to being an odd chopstick, and I wish people would see me for my possibilities.
- One of my favorite places in the entire world is the stationary aisle at the drugstore. I can and sometimes will spend an hour there.
Stay With Me by Spiritualized.
It starts slow, the lyrics begining almost a minute and a half into the song. But by 4 and a half minutes in, it's an orgy of loveliness.
"Love it when you smile
Stay with me
Smile all the time
Don't Go
Stay with me
I love it when you're mine
Don't go........"
*looks at lyrics above and here*
I'm am such a frickin' GIRL.
Please still be my friend.
Tiny Little Thing in Finance - "Good, how are you?"
Receptionist - "Hmmmm. Can I drink a cup of coffee and get back to you on that? I'm not sure yet."
Engineer #1 - "You're in a cheery mood this morning."
Receptionist - "Actually I usually am, but I dial it back a bit, because people want an explanation for it, and I usually don't really have one."
Expeditor - "How are you?"
Receptionist - "Can't complain."
Expeditor - "Sure you can, you're just not trying hard enough!"
I always forget how much I Y Howie Day until I put the cd in.
I wish I could live in the wilderness for a few years, living off the land. Just to know if I could do it. I should prolly stop reading the Clan of the Cave Bear series.
I really don't know why I have been posting so many pictures of myself as a kid lately.
A woman gave me cookies today. For no particular reason. *big grin*
And these make me so happy I can't even express it.
Engineer #2 - "I think it finds her."
Receptionist - *nods*
So lets do us both a favor and take the title/burden/responsibility of being my father off of you.
I won't hold any of the cruel letdowns against you. I'll just figure I didn't have a dad, and you were some nice guy that read books aloud to me occasionally and bought me a bike with streamers on the handles.
It's a lot easier for me that way. It makes it mourning what I didn't have a cleaner wound somehow. How could you be expected to defend me from the men that sexually abused me? You were just an second cousin once removed. How you could be expected to listen to/notice/care about me when I was freakishly skinny/gone for days at a time/so depressed I was almost comatose? You were just some neighbor. How could you be expected to see me or give me any kind of advice or teach me anything about being a grownup? You were just a guidance couselor I met with once, to whom I was statistics on paper.
See? It's easier this way.
And you may not know this, but every single day I give you a clean slate. If you ever really did want to be my dad, that would be nice, 'cause I could use one. At this point, it would take a lot of work to earn my trust again, and it's probably more work than it's worth to you. I can accept that. I've taken care of myself for a long time so don't worry about me. If you ever did.
P.S. I'm having a really hard time hitting 'publish.' I'm being very honest in this post, and I learned a long time ago that no matter how honest I am with you, you won't see me. No matter how much I lay bare my soul, you won't or don't or possibily even can't see a endlessly loving little girl who never wanted a horse or ballet lessons or private school or a blue Chevy Tahoe as much as she wanted someone to listen and care. You'll just see a disappointment, a girl that won't be who you wanted her to be, painted over with a thick layer of your own guilt. And you'd rather look away than see either of those versions of me.
I would be scared that my words here would hurt you, but I'm learning that self-absorbed people don't feel hurt. They only feel frustration when they don't get what they want. And it isn't in my power to give you what you want, a different version of me.
If you could ever bring yourself to want a daughter like me, then send me a book you think I'd like. I will read it.
- A thriving home business, selling drugs, two apartment complexes down.
- Two old friends see each other, say hello, ask how the families are, shake hands. All while still driving their cars. At 40 MPH.
- A man that thought I was a hooker.
- A man and a woman fighting, and deciding to separate just as they passed me. The woman then walked back past me again, on the phone with her mother saying, "Mom, I'm sorry I'm late but you don't understand, my marriage is ENDING." I felt so bad, I wanted to say something or do something, but her body language didn't invite interruption, and apparently I looked like a hooker at the moment.
This is for Carolyn, who never got to go to camp.
I am 11 or 12 here, and you'll notice that like most Jr. Highers, I am unimpressed and bored with the world, and the sophistication of being extremely well-summer-camp-traveled lends a veneer of snobbery. The stuff in bold I'm adding now.
Dear Caleb,
I'm on the bus (which by the way, I think is an old hay wagon made into a bus by an over-ambitious shop class.) My first clue that this wasn't the perfect camp was the fact that I noticed that all the repeat campers were either sobbing uncontrollaby or desperatly trying to use the zippers on their jackets to saw through the bars on the windows. Since you most likely can't read this anyway ( guess the bus forgot shocks), I close for now. (Hmm. I was funny.)
They say we will be there soon (if the bus doesn't break down again). All the are all huddled in little groups saying, "if I don't make it, where's a copy of my will" or "if you die, can I have your stereo?" The future looks grim.
Your Cousin,
[Valancy Jane]
P.S. We stopped at a MacDonalds for lunch and Jeff was there! His bus stopped at the same place! (That wasn't only the last time I saw him, it was also the last time I ever even thought about him. Ah, the fickleness of young love.)
Second from right, that's me at camp.
I think it started with this post.
Then I watched the movie Mad Love with David. If insanity and people dressed like this doesn't remind me of high school, nothing will.
Then Lou mentioned that Sat was Homecoming at my old school and that they'd flashed a picture of me in biology class up during a flashback slide show.
On Sat, I was stopped by JR's apartment to borrow some old yearbooks, (because I lost mine in a the only one of my breakups that wasn't civilized), so I could scan some old pictures at Kinkos when I get the chance.
Prepare to see pictures of me in my disturbingly skinny overachiever phase.
Then last night a older hispanic man walked past me, as I sat on the front steps of my apartment waiting for David, wearing an old P.E. t-shirt from my school.
I'd search high and low for the love of my life,
And waste not one breath in denial."
-From ...... Catch by Seth Horan
"Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go.
Look in the eye and promise no love's like our love."
-From Where Does The Good Go by Tegan and Sara
"I am right beside you, in this life."
-From In This Life by Chantel Kreviazuk
Email me if you want any of these songs. And you do want them.
Better yet, buy their albums. 'Specially Seth Horan's. You won't be sorry.
2. I think the 4'11, forty-something hispanic cleaning lady is very pretty, in a way I can't define.
3. While neither particularly disgust me, I think flicking boogers to godknowswhere is just as gross as eating them.
4. Once I was riding in a convertible through the country and we passed under a bunch of trees and the late afternoon sun spilled through the leaves overhead in this glorious kalidescope of gold light and green leaves and just a smidge of brown branches and I RECOGNIZED that color as the exact color of my eyes. This memory brings an instant smile to my face, but I feel it's vain, somehow, and I've never mentioned it.
5. I'm terrified that if I ever get rich, I'll turn into someone I'll despise.
6. I haven't brushed my hair in two days. And I prolly won't for another two.
7. Of all the men I've loved, I sometimes suspect that none of them have every loved me as much as I loved them. This idea doesn't bother me, it's probably more of a lie I tell myself because I HATE the idea of breaking someone's heart .
8. I love all animals. Except yappy little purse-sized dogs. There. I said it.
9. I'll never understand people that choose to go into a field like corporate sales. I try. I can't.
10. I once met a man at a party at my grandmother's house, that I had an instant connection with. If he'd asked me on a date, I would have gone. He didn't, probably because of how it would have looked. He was in his late sixties and I was nineteen. I'm ok with this. Age is just a timing issue, and there is no such thing as timing really. You can meet great people at the worst or most inconvient times. That said, the age difference would have been a large hurdle and I'm not sure it was worth it in this case. I think that encounter taught me something valuable.
I felt that Love was a walrus named Eli.
And Comforter was a snail named Rob.
And Wisdom was obviously a bunny named Patricia.
And Power was a very burly ladybug named Arnold. He had very thick eyebrows.
The kids understood. They always do.
David dropped a glass of wine in the bathroom the other night. Don't ask, it's a long story, and too boring to justify it's length. Wine got everywhere, including all over his pants.
And the only thing in my apartment that fit him was a tan and red plaid fleece throw blanket. Well, either that or one of my knit dresses, but on him that would have just looked like the weirdest WWF wrestling costume ever, so we stuck with the blanket kilt.
A moment of silence for my bathroom rug, if you don't mind.
*moment of silence*
*uncomfortable rustling because no one bothered to look at a clock when it started, so no one is sure when a minutes up and no one wants to look to eager to look at their watch*
Anyway, I thought as I reverse wine - pressed my bathroom rug in the tub, stomping on it to loosen the stain, maybe I should just throw the towels and shower curtain in with the rug, and then pour in the rest of the bottle of wine, and change the whole color theme of my bathroom to wine red.
It's also probably a sign that you sneeze rather loudly.
She always tells me what she's wearing that day, in detail. She always tells me about what she dreamed about the night before. She sometimes sends me a song, or tells me what's on her mind that morning.
Then I email her and tell her what I'm wearing and if I had any interesting dreams last night and send her whatever song I had on repeat the whole way to work.
Anyway, I replied to her dream email by telling her two stories.
Last night I dreamed that I was in a book store with Bunny and I picked up a really well done travel book, where the auther gave all sorts of history on the place and wrote about what it was REALLY like to be there and I marveled over the book and Bunny said she thought I could write a book like that. "You've got a book like that in you" she said in my dream and I was so flattered and encouraged and I knew she was right.
David fell asleep at his place and when I went to wake him, he rolled over in an obvious state of only about 1/3 awake. He raised an empty hand and said "Here, have the cool spoon" and I was like, "Huh?"
Then he opened his eyes and said that his dream and waking up had all gotten mixed up and that in his dream he'd had the REALLY cool spoon and when I woke him up, he wanted to give me the spoon, except that then he remembered that he'd just dreamed the spoon.
What could I say, except, "Thank you!" and kiss him? I mean, he gave me the cool spoon. Who cares if it was just a dream?
*big grin*
He likes me.
Right now I'm forgiving him. For In Cabin'd Ships At Sea.
IN cabin’d ships, at sea,
The boundless blue on every side expanding,
With whistling winds and music of the waves—the large imperious waves—In such,
Or some lone bark, buoy’d on the dense marine,
Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white sails,
She cleaves the ether, mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or under many a star at night,
By sailors young and old, haply will I, a reminiscence of the land, be read,
In full rapport at last.
Here are our thoughts—voyagers’ thoughts,
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said;
The sky o’erarches here—we feel the undulating deck beneath our feet,
We feel the long pulsation—ebb and flow of endless motion;
The tones of unseen mystery—the vague and vast suggestions of the briny world—the liquid-flowing syllables,
The perfume, the faint creaking of the cordage, the melancholy rhythm,
The boundless vista, and the horizon far and dim, are all here,
And this is Ocean’s poem.
Then falter not, O book! fulfil your destiny!
You, not a reminiscence of the land alone,
You too, as a lone bark, cleaving the ether—purpos’d I know
not whither—yet ever full of faith,
Consort to every ship that sails—sail you!
Bear forth to them, folded, my love—(Dear mariners! for you I fold it here, in every leaf;)
Speed on, my Book! spread your white sails, my little bark, athwart the imperious waves!
Chant on—sail on—bear o’er the boundless blue, from me, to every shore,
This song for mariners and all their ships.
Because .............. well .................. should I say it?
They were all smokers ........................... in the end.
Things that may be overheard on a roadtrip that would include us:
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to catch my foot in your hair, Rezzie"
"Hey, do you think this'll come off?"
"I have to pee."
"Where are we again?"
"No really, where are we?"
"Help me out here, girls" coming from a bathroom stall, in reference to something strappy.
"I think I'm stuck again."
"I woke up with starburst in my ear."
"Yeah, sorry, that's mine. (takes starburst out of Veaj's hand and pops in mouth)"
"You mean it's illegal to throw pistachios out the window of a moving vehicle?"
"I'll miss him," refering to someone we met at a truckstop. "Yeah, he was good people."
"Was that our wrong turn, or is it up ahead?"
"Well, we've learned on thing for sure here. (wiping arms down with a towel) NEVER take a dare from a guy you've just met, especially if it involves massive quantities of slushie."
"Hey, this isn't my bra!"
"Wait wait wait. Are you WEARING the map?"
"Yes. I am wearing the map. It's a long story. Stop staring at my Utah."
"I fed it to the cute wittle puppy."
"He was lost, and I wanted to help him get home."
"You don't think carrying a pet iguana across the border is illegal, do you?"
"Well, while we're on this side of the country, we might as well go up to the Maritimes so you can meet my family."
"Are there like, different degrees of 'illegal'?"
"What do you mean 'it wasn't your fault the place went down in flames but hit on it and I'll explain later'?"
"I've always want to see a museum of quilted portraits of sports players."
"(with distain) Oh, kiss my llama. (makes obscene gesture)"
"Excuse me, you seem like an attractive, relatively normal man. Mind if I take a minute to serenade you? (breaks into You'll always be my baby')"
"Lets stop up at that farm house and sing 'Where does the love go'!"
"So, what you're saying is that you... you don't want... new shoes? I don't understand."
"Christmas carols in July? Why not!"
"Hi. You don't know us, but we're on a multi-state scavenger hunt and we were wondering if you had a stuffed animal that we could have."
"(On a crowded street, with a straight face, whips out sheet music for 'Row, Row, Row your boat') Ok ladies. It's okay. We know this cold. But I have the music right here. Ahem. (breaks into Row, row, row your boat, very very seriously, with vibrato)"
"Trick or Treat in January! We're going state by state to all towns w/ 'Hollow' in them"
"Yes, and please be warned that we *will* play a trick if there's no treat."
"Gotta find the groundhog, gotta find the groundhog"
"Hey, do we know any bloggers who live in this state?"
"what do you mean, you don't think that'll work? We have plenty of slack in the rope, you know."
"Still on search for item #583 on the scavenger hunt list: a road sign that doesn't end in a 0 or a 5."
*knocking on someone's door* "Yes, we're looking for something old, new, borrowed and blue."
"I resent the implication that I would need to use bribery. Now, are we going to have a problem or can I let go of your windpipe now?"
"We're going on a road trip to Hawaii. ....................... What? We totally ARE. You can convert a car into a floating raft."
............ I wanted to show this picture of my brother and I reading. See, I used to do it too, but Jesse was a master at what I call 'reading yoga'. Somehow by chapter three of any book, he was all twisted around. Really. Incidently, you might notice that he's reading Nancy Drew. We had a deal going. I'd check out Nancy Drew from the library, he'd check out Hardy Boys. We'd read them, then trade. For some reason it seemed odd to him to check out Nancy Drew. He'd read 'em, of course. But there would be no paper trail proving it.
But then I started browsing all the great old pictures of my brother. For instance, this one. He still gets this exact look on his face when he's thinking hard about something.
And he can appreciate a joke, even if it's on him.
This is my favorite picture of him. Mostly because when I see it, I can hear him laugh, and we have the exact same laugh, and it's like no one else I've heard.
Here he is with my mother, my mother here is younger than I am now. I have a hard time wrapping my head around that idea.
I'll always think of Jesse as my favorite fellow adventurer/tree fort defender/partner in crime.
My second favorite picture of Jesse. He still smiles this readily, this un-selfconsciously. There is nothing fake about Jesse. There just ............ COULDN'T be. Jesse just has no deception in him.
We always knew he'd be a republican.
He was born first and hogged all the talent genes.
I remember this morning so vividly, the day he started highschool. We operated as equals at home, it was always a bit startling to remember that he was older than me.
Here another of my favorite pictures of him, taken on my birthday, I think. He's always so generous to me. But the best gift is knowing that I ALWAYS have him, to look out for me.
VJ - "Yes, thanks."
David - *brings a glass*
VJ - "Which kind is this?"
David - "The chardonnay. Yellow Tail, from Australia."
VJ - *blank look*
David - "The bottle with the kangaroo on it."
VJ - Oh! Yes, I love this wine."
I'm indignant.
How could they take away from the kids the best part of any outing, the long drive?
Am I alone here? Wasn't that half the fun? Writing, 'We didn't want to get on the bus, we don't know where they're taking us, please help' on a sheet of notebook paper and holding it up to the window and trying to keep from giggling while other drivers gave it a double take, wasn't that fun thats not to be missed?
Do I just sound like an old woman here, because I think it was better when we played guessing games, and sang along to songs and scribbled endless MASH games?
Picking just the right seat, next to your Best Friend Forever (or at least that summer), but in view of the Love Of Your Life (or at least that summer).
Waiting four and a half minutes after the bus driver has pulled out of the pick-up spot to yell, "Are we almost there?"
Waiting four and a half minutes after the bus driver has pulled back onto the freeway after a potty stop, to yell, "I have to pee!"
The rebellious joy of reading all the nasty words written on the backs of the seats.
The simple joy of waving to complete strangers, trying to get them to wave back.
Quickly launching a bouncy ball above the heads of the other kids, so that it bounces all over the bus in utter chaos, then practicing your very best innocent face.
Getting the biggest soda they sell at Burger King, then realizing that the bus doesn't have cup holders and having to hold it between your legs the rest of the way, and having numb thighs.
Feeling a little carsick, but distracting yourself from it by mocking any of the other kids that looked carsick.
Playing poker and feeling so rebellious.
Begging the bus driver to stop at the farm that says, "Cows for sale" because you wanna buy a cow. For your mother.
When you were really young and clutched your favorite stuffed animal in your lap the whole way, to when you got a bit older and it sat next to you on the seat, to your mid teens when it peaked out from the top of your backpack?
Planning your outfits for the week, so that you could coordinate with your BBF (of the summer).
Driving home, already writing a letter to your BBF or LOYL (of that summer) and staring out the window, remembering the game you won, the boy that kissed you behind the snack shop*, or the night you stayed out late with the girls and giggled for hours about stuff you can barely remember already, and wondering how on earth can you go home.
*not a euphamism.
............ beautiful.
I wish you every good thing you wish for yourself. Heath, peace, security, time with your kids, coffee, camping trips, and the perfect gardening hat.
And I wish you every good thing you've wished for me, love, peace, surprises, fresh smoothies, long walks and more love.
'Cause you deserve all that too.
I couldn't.
I'd die.
Or something like dying, just worse and less dramatic.
My blog is like a child to me.
I want to spoil it and dress it up and show off pictures of it and pressure it into show business."
VJ - "Oh! Give me some pointers, I'm sure I'll find a good use for that knowledge someday."
Lola - *starts dancing*
VJ - "Uh, Lola, not here, please."
Lola - "What? It's not like we're IN the church. This is totally appropriate on the front lawn."
- David Jacoby
ok it so wasn't thirty seconds.
*giggle*
*giggle giggle*
on second thought, maybe it was.
Valancy Jane says:
Yes it was.
It totally was.
And the best part?
Thérèse says:
Mm?
Valancy Jane says:
I knew it was you, about 0.0008 seconds into it.
Thérèse says:
*giggle*
................ going to the grocery store with David for a bottle of wine and unexpectedly winning a cake walk at the store.
................ going home with David and having carrot cake and champagne for dinner.
1.) A sweet and yummy man that agrees that I'm far too pretty to worry my little head about my finances and takes over the books and make them make sense and tells me how much money I have left to blow at used bookstores. (Yes, that sound, that was feminism taking a step backward. I know. *hangs head*)
2.) A sweet and yummy man that brings me coffee in bed.
That's it. That's all I want. And while there have been plenty of men that agreed that I'm pretty and REALLY shouldn't be doing my own taxes, never a cup of coffee brought to my bed.
I thought that was going to be the easy thing to find. But all my boyfriends 'weren't morning people' or didn't 'get people's obsession with coffee'.
So on Sunday morning when David slipped in and made me coffee (with pumpkin flavored creamer) and brought it to my bed and woke me up .................
David - "Here, I made you coffee."
VJ - *brushes hair out of face, sits up and stares at David* "What?"
David - "Coffee, here."
VJ - *breathless voice* "Will you marry me? Father my children?"
David - "What?"
VJ - "Er, I said, 'yes thank you, coffee would be nice'."
So the proposal was just a tad premature, but I DO think I'm going to keep this guy.
And this. I just don't know what to say. I'm not sure if the ballet or the football one amuses me the most.
And I'm so going to buy the medal for Demon Possesion and everytime someone annoys me I'll start humming and rubbing the medal. Or the one for Bowel Disorders.
A real one and a fake one?
Yeah, you prolly know.
And it's not so much that your fake smile is sickly and lifeless, it just looks that way in comparison with your real smile, which could power a city block with it's wattage.
And I know a lot of people in your life pressure you to smile when you don't really want to, and I know how that can feel.
Bunny once said something to me, and as it was one of the most freeing things I'd heard, I'll pass it on to you.
Smile when you're ready.
Sales Guy - *mimics voice* "Good afternoon, [company name], this is [Sales Guy], how can I help you?"
*both laugh*
Sales Guy - "Can you -"
Receptionist - "Speak normally? *lapses out of phone voice* I can try."
Sales Guy - *laughs* "Can you -"
Receptionist - "Turn up the banjo music? Sure." *turns it up loud*
Sales Guy - *laughs hard* "You're weird, [Valancy Jane]."
Receptionist - "Yes. *back into professional phone voice* What can I do for you?"
Sales Guy - "I forgot."
Stretch, you're my hero.
Billy Joel says "when you love someone you're always insecure."
Valancy Jane says:
Not really.
Not necessarily.
Thérèse says:
I'm beginning to understand that line a little, although I don't think he's got the whole of it.
Jonny says:
but didn't billy joel have a mullet?
Thérèse says:
I think in the very beginning you are.
Didn't everyone?
Jonny says:
I've never had a mullet.
Thérèse says:
http://noted.blogs.com/photos/uncategorized/billyjoel.jpg
hmm, i dont' think he did have a mullet.
Valancy Jane says:
Well, the funny thing about me and love is that I always expect it to end sadly. First boy I loved, died. So I think I approach love differently, and I think each day in love is worth it, so if/when it goes, for whatever reason, I'm neither broken or regretful.
Jonny says:
that sounds very healthy and wise.
Thérèse says:
Veaj, I know you must know this already, but you are the very definition of wise beyond your years.
Valancy Jane says:
Because I don't mean to sound pemissimtic, because I'm not, really, but it will go.
Either he will leave you, or you will find he's not the man for you and leave him or he'll die or you'll die. Next week or 60 years from now. It'll happen.
Thérèse says:
*nods slowly*
So what you're saying is, enjoy what you have while you have it, and don't worry about the rest?
Valancy Jane says:
So if it's not worth it when you consider that it will end and probably hurt, then don't bother.
And if it is still worth it, soak it up.
Thérèse says:
*smiles as she considers*
Production Guy #1 - "So, when are you and your girl getting married?"
Production Guy #2 - "Oh, gosh, I dunno. I'm scared of that, man."
PG #1 - "Oh, you two are so perfect together, just do it."
PG #2 - "No, I love her, I'm not scared of that. It's the asking part. That scares me. I just ................. don't want to be there when it happens."
So today, I'm wearing, from the toes up.....
Those strappy wedges that lace up my leg.
Long denim skirt.
Jonny says:
huh?
Thérèse says:
shh, she's telling us what she's wearing.
go on, darling.
Valancy Jane says:
Randomly pinned to the belt is a pin that Coco gave me, one she got at her middle school leadership conference, that has a lobster on it, hence her giving it to me.
Sleeveless sweater-y top, with a big cowl neck, in tan.
Large hoop earrings with a small peacock feather tip hanging in them.
Blue polka dot undies, tan bra.
Thérèse says:
I can see it.
I love it.
Valancy Jane says:
Hair pinned back from around my face.
Thérèse says:
I love the ecclectic things you wear.
Valancy Jane says:
Thank you. You?
Thérèse says:
'kay.
Toes up, of course.
Valancy Jane says:
Toes up, undies last.
That sounds like a sexual position.
*mind wanders*
Thérèse says:
Tan strappy backless wedges that look great with the purple nail polish on my toes. FJ2's. Brown belt. Fushia long sleeved v-neck shirt. Gold sleepers in my ears.
*giggle*
Valancy Jane says:
Undies?
Thérèse says:
Hair all over the place, but curling properly instead of frizzing irritably.
*checks*
Valancy Jane says:
I can just picture someone watching you do this.
Jonny says:
trousers, shirt, sleeveless cardigan. various shades of brown.
Thérèse says:
shiny beige bra, "cosmopolitan" turquoise boycut undies.
*giggle*
Valancy Jane says:
Watching you type somthing, then check your undies, then type some more.
Jonny says:
same as i wear 95% of the time.
Valancy Jane says:
Jonny? Undies?
Jonny says:
yes.
Thérèse says:
*giggle*
*giggle giggle*
Jonny says:
**checks**
yes.
blue boxers
Thérèse says:
*giggle*
Jonny says:
black socks
Valancy Jane says:
Thank you.
You sexy beast.
Jonny says:
sapphire encrusted penis ring.
Valancy Jane says:
I love you.
I really, really do.
I demand you show it to us.
Jonny says:
I made the last bit up
**shamed**
please still be my friend.
Valancy Jane says:
Ok.
But now I know what I'm getting you for christmas.
*hums 'did you see a llama kiss a llama on the llama .........'*
But if we advertise here, Ruan will be rich, and we will be famous.
I did it, Ike did it, what better company could you ask for?
Receptionist - "Good afternoon, [company name], this is [Valancy Jane], how can I help you?"
Ma Homie in Marketing - "[Valancy Jane], it's me. We won! We just won [technology business award]!"
Receptionist - "Sweeeeeet! Lets get drunk!"
Ma Homie in Marketing - *laughs*
Receptionist - "Er, actually, I just said that to cover the fact that I already am."
Ma Homie in Marketing - "Good call."
Name that movie.
But anyway.
Lets talk about David.
I met David at my coffeeshop. He played the bass there quite a bit, and I was drawn to watching him, his hands in particular.
I loved his smile. He looked fun and smart and kind all at once.
One night he came over and talked to me, and in all our ensuing conversations I learned that he was in fact, fun and smart and kind. More fun and smart and kind than I'd imagined.
He's a civil engineer, a pretty good one I think. He's certainly the hottest one I know.
He's a proud uncle/godfather to Hannah.
He's a guitar model for Timberline Guitars.
He smiles like this a lot. *deep sigh* I love it when he smiles. It makes me want to kiss him, instantly.
He makes me smile, too.
Everywhere I go, people pull me aside and tell me how great he is. As if I needed any convincing.
He loves his mother.
He loves his cat.
He's a solid midwestern boy with california cool.
He has the good sense to like me back.
His bedroom is full of architectural models and glow in the dark stars.
He makes good coffee.
He is the snuggliest man ever.
He's a ninja AND a rock star.
My little heart never stood a chance, did it?