43 to 50

No question about it: Third grade was my best year at St. Jerk's. Our teacher was Miss Marilyn, a vivacious redhead who was under 30 and hadn't been soul-sucked by the Blue Meanies yet.

That year, my birthday fell on the first day of school. She sent me to the supply office on some pretext, and while I was gone, she taught the rest of the class how to sing "Happy Birthday" in Spanish. We learned quite a bit of Spanish that year---numbers and colors and phrases for things like "please" and "thank you". (Which came in handy when we visited Puerto Rico again that summer. My parents and our host were both impressed when I correctly translated all the colors of the color-coded parking garage we were in.)

Another cool thing about Miss Marilyn---she drove a baby blue VW Bug WITH Day-glo daisy stickers on the hubcaps. Being to all intents an only child, in terms of sibling age, I didn't hear about "Punch Buggy" until AGES later. It stightly mystified me, but I still smile at Bugs, old and new.

Miss Marilyn wasn't the only new woman in my life. Peter's romantic correspondant from the Newport Opera Festival moved from Pittsburgh to Staten Island and shared my bedroom until she could find an apartment. I was smitten with admiration for her; she was an aspiring opera singer herself, and had the most gorgeous, cut-glass speaking voice I'd ever heard on a person in Real Life. Now, of course, I'm reminded of that exchange from "Auntie Mame":

Patrick Dennis: Is the English lady sick, Auntie Mame?
Auntie Mame: She's not English, darling... she's from Pittsburgh.
Patrick Dennis: She sounded English.
Auntie Mame: Well, when you're from Pittsburgh, you have to do something.

Imitation being the most sincere form of flattery, I replayed her voice in my head and tried to copy it. The only time I don't think I succeeded is when I hear my taped voice, when I think I sound like Darth Vader in drag. But I *have* gotten compliments on it from callers, so I suppose on some level, it worked. Even if I'm more of a baritone....


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43 to 50

No question about it: Third grade was my best year at St. Jerk's. Our teacher was Miss Marilyn, a vivacious redhead who was under 30 and hadn't been soul-sucked by the Blue Meanies yet.

That year, my birthday fell on the first day of school. She sent me to the supply office on some pretext, and while I was gone, she taught the rest of the class how to sing "Happy Birthday" in Spanish. We learned quite a bit of Spanish that year---numbers and colors and phrases for things like "please" and "thank you". (Which came in handy when we visited Puerto Rico again that summer. My parents and our host were both impressed when I correctly translated all the colors of the color-coded parking garage we were in.)

Another cool thing about Miss Marilyn---she drove a baby blue VW Bug WITH Day-glo daisy stickers on the hubcaps. Being to all intents an only child, in terms of sibling age, I didn't hear about "Punch Buggy" until AGES later. It stightly mystified me, but I still smile at Bugs, old and new.

Miss Marilyn wasn't the only new woman in my life. Peter's romantic correspondant from the Newport Opera Festival moved from Pittsburgh to Staten Island and shared my bedroom until she could find an apartment. I was smitten with admiration for her; she was an aspiring opera singer herself, and had the most gorgeous, cut-glass speaking voice I'd ever heard on a person in Real Life. Now, of course, I'm reminded of that exchange from "Auntie Mame":

Patrick Dennis: Is the English lady sick, Auntie Mame?
Auntie Mame: She's not English, darling... she's from Pittsburgh.
Patrick Dennis: She sounded English.
Auntie Mame: Well, when you're from Pittsburgh, you have to do something.

Imitation being the most sincere form of flattery, I replayed her voice in my head and tried to copy it. The only time I don't think I succeeded is when I hear my taped voice, when I think I sound like Darth Vader in drag. But I *have* gotten compliments on it from callers, so I suppose on some level, it worked. Even if I'm more of a baritone....


.

Hello, I must be blowing....

Blergh. I don't usually have nightmares, but this morning I woke from a double-header (after all of two hours sleep) and stayed awake. First one was something about a fight with a serial killer, the second segued out of it---I *thought* I was awake in my bedroom, and I could hear a group of guys in my back yard. I got out of bed and prowled down the hall in the dark, thinking if they attempted to break in that I'd dart back to the office and dial 911.

Woke with my heart hammering, pretty sure I was awake this time, halfway convinced that I'd left my keys in the front door (I hadn't), and since it was a little before 6 AM, and dawn was about to break, I tried to convince myself that it was safe to go back to sleep, but the flight-or-fight response was still strong.

In addition, I am either comming down with a headcold---sinuses are leaking madly---or I managed to give myself a bleach reaction by sitting in the shower scrubbing the walls during last night's cool-down. (Trying to soothe the monster heat-rash or flesh-eating bacteria on my chest.) Mb turned me on to Mr Clean Magic Erasers, which really do work wonders, even more so when assisted by spray-on Clorox cleaner. I've been working on my shower stall, which I'm pleased to say, no longer looks like a crossword grid from all the ickiness. So it could be a headcold, or a meltdown from bleach fumes, or hantaavirus. Managed to dig out some decongestant (need more) and a box of tissues (ditto) and am thinking longingly of bed.

Was supposed to go to a cooking demo at the library yesterday with Mb. She bowed out after a really rough Monday. I went alone and can say she didn't miss much. It was supposed to be summer rolls with rice paper---I expected something like a spring roll, which is crunchy, but they were rubbery and nasty and I was massively underwhelmed.

Picked up a few library books, then headed over the bridge. Got side-tracked from my plans by the sight of a "Clearance!" sign in the window of Fashion Bug. It's been so long since I've had any discretionary cash at all...I found pants in a 30 TALL marked down from $24.99 to $4 (I got two pairs, but there were more on the rack---but how many pairs of navy trousers does one gal need?) Got an orange tank for even less---maked down PLUS an additional 20% off because of a hole from the security tag that won't show under a jacket or shirt---and two tops, one white with an ornamental neckline (I'll get pix) and a pink and dark grey kimono-style top which fits divinely and will go with assorted pieces already in my wardrobe.

Spent upwards of an hour in there trying things on---much more than I actually bought. Tried several skirts, which either made my ass look five miles wide or I couldn't sit down in them. Got home and realized my mid-back hurts...probably from squirming in and out of all those outfits.

It may sound like I'm bellyaching, but I'm not; for the first time in quite a while, I'm not madly stressed about bills/food/gas money, and that's such a relief that I could probably shrug off MDR-TB. I'm such a cheery wench!

Clearly, I am spending too much of my free time thinking about Harlan County...I'm wanking more than writing, though. I have a happy little soap opera going in my head, which is wall-to-wall Boyd and a cast of OCs...I call it the "Pillar of the Community" 'verse. One of the books I snagged from the library was Elmore Leonard's "Tishamingo Blues". I also grabbed "White Trash Cooking". (What?!) Have been checking IMDb compulsively to find out when the DVDs of Justified Season 1 are coming out, but no word yet.

Speaking of OCs, I had a request from someone at ff.net to run my OC Tranh from Finish as a player character in a RPG. I said yes. It's a terrific compliment, and might lure another couple readers to it.

Can't think of anything else off the top of my head. At this rate, I'll sleep all afternoon, which will derail my attempts to get back to something like a normal sleep schedule. (Almost wrote 'sheep' schedule. Uh-HUH.)

.

Hello, I must be blowing....

Blergh. I don't usually have nightmares, but this morning I woke from a double-header (after all of two hours sleep) and stayed awake. First one was something about a fight with a serial killer, the second segued out of it---I *thought* I was awake in my bedroom, and I could hear a group of guys in my back yard. I got out of bed and prowled down the hall in the dark, thinking if they attempted to break in that I'd dart back to the office and dial 911.

Woke with my heart hammering, pretty sure I was awake this time, halfway convinced that I'd left my keys in the front door (I hadn't), and since it was a little before 6 AM, and dawn was about to break, I tried to convince myself that it was safe to go back to sleep, but the flight-or-fight response was still strong.

In addition, I am either comming down with a headcold---sinuses are leaking madly---or I managed to give myself a bleach reaction by sitting in the shower scrubbing the walls during last night's cool-down. (Trying to soothe the monster heat-rash or flesh-eating bacteria on my chest.) Mb turned me on to Mr Clean Magic Erasers, which really do work wonders, even more so when assisted by spray-on Clorox cleaner. I've been working on my shower stall, which I'm pleased to say, no longer looks like a crossword grid from all the ickiness. So it could be a headcold, or a meltdown from bleach fumes, or hantaavirus. Managed to dig out some decongestant (need more) and a box of tissues (ditto) and am thinking longingly of bed.

Was supposed to go to a cooking demo at the library yesterday with Mb. She bowed out after a really rough Monday. I went alone and can say she didn't miss much. It was supposed to be summer rolls with rice paper---I expected something like a spring roll, which is crunchy, but they were rubbery and nasty and I was massively underwhelmed.

Picked up a few library books, then headed over the bridge. Got side-tracked from my plans by the sight of a "Clearance!" sign in the window of Fashion Bug. It's been so long since I've had any discretionary cash at all...I found pants in a 30 TALL marked down from $24.99 to $4 (I got two pairs, but there were more on the rack---but how many pairs of navy trousers does one gal need?) Got an orange tank for even less---maked down PLUS an additional 20% off because of a hole from the security tag that won't show under a jacket or shirt---and two tops, one white with an ornamental neckline (I'll get pix) and a pink and dark grey kimono-style top which fits divinely and will go with assorted pieces already in my wardrobe.

Spent upwards of an hour in there trying things on---much more than I actually bought. Tried several skirts, which either made my ass look five miles wide or I couldn't sit down in them. Got home and realized my mid-back hurts...probably from squirming in and out of all those outfits.

It may sound like I'm bellyaching, but I'm not; for the first time in quite a while, I'm not madly stressed about bills/food/gas money, and that's such a relief that I could probably shrug off MDR-TB. I'm such a cheery wench!

Clearly, I am spending too much of my free time thinking about Harlan County...I'm wanking more than writing, though. I have a happy little soap opera going in my head, which is wall-to-wall Boyd and a cast of OCs...I call it the "Pillar of the Community" 'verse. One of the books I snagged from the library was Elmore Leonard's "Tishamingo Blues". I also grabbed "White Trash Cooking". (What?!) Have been checking IMDb compulsively to find out when the DVDs of Justified Season 1 are coming out, but no word yet.

Speaking of OCs, I had a request from someone at ff.net to run my OC Tranh from Finish as a player character in a RPG. I said yes. It's a terrific compliment, and might lure another couple readers to it.

Can't think of anything else off the top of my head. At this rate, I'll sleep all afternoon, which will derail my attempts to get back to something like a normal sleep schedule. (Almost wrote 'sheep' schedule. Uh-HUH.)

.

A little something to look forward to:

I heard from Mb a little while ago. She and her SO are going house-sitting in Melbourne over the weekend and have invited me to join them.

There is a pool.

I said YES.

Mind you, I did specify a need to be back for church on Sunday, and that I have to have a dish ready to bring for potluck.

But otherwise? I haven't been swimming since last October and the thought of spending a few hours floating in a lovely private in-ground pool is fabulous. I know exactly where my swimsuit is...I just hope it still fits, as I'm currently about 10 pounds heavier than I was when I got it. To be on the safe side, I may just run my OLD suit through the wash and bring it so I'll have some wiggle room.

Although if it's as private as she says, I'm liable to wind up not-so-skinny-dipping.

Note to self, DON'T FORGET TO PACK SUNSCREEN!


.

A little something to look forward to:

I heard from Mb a little while ago. She and her SO are going house-sitting in Melbourne over the weekend and have invited me to join them.

There is a pool.

I said YES.

Mind you, I did specify a need to be back for church on Sunday, and that I have to have a dish ready to bring for potluck.

But otherwise? I haven't been swimming since last October and the thought of spending a few hours floating in a lovely private in-ground pool is fabulous. I know exactly where my swimsuit is...I just hope it still fits, as I'm currently about 10 pounds heavier than I was when I got it. To be on the safe side, I may just run my OLD suit through the wash and bring it so I'll have some wiggle room.

Although if it's as private as she says, I'm liable to wind up not-so-skinny-dipping.

Note to self, DON'T FORGET TO PACK SUNSCREEN!


.