I think a little rain dancing is in order.
Perhaps if it rains hard enough, I'll find a half broken gutter and do what I used to do when I was a child ... There was nothing half as fun as running outside with shampoo and conditioner bottles in hand, and washing your hair with nature.
(And of course anything else that happened to come down with the gutter. On second thought, that could have been nasty ...)
Outside Influence
The cats are sleeping on the living room table, stretched out in front of the fan side by side, as if they almost like each other enough to be in such close proximity. But I know it's only the fan that keeps them amicable, right along with the heat induced laziness that leaves them with little desire to move.
And I am feeling like my cats. Drained and exhausted from a night with more dreams than sleep, and the bits of leftover stress from the borrowed box of Pandora, whose contents have spilled over into my own small household.
Upstairs the children play, happy enough to be some small annoyance to the other, as their furtive whispers filter down the stairs. And I should be worried. Where there are whispers there are plans, and where there are plans there are ideas that usually turn out badly. Nevertheless, I'm letting them play undisturbed in order to give my mind the mental break it so desperately desires ...
And it desires it desperately, as desperately as it now desires sleep even though I've much to do and more to come tomorrow.
And I am feeling like my cats. Drained and exhausted from a night with more dreams than sleep, and the bits of leftover stress from the borrowed box of Pandora, whose contents have spilled over into my own small household.
Upstairs the children play, happy enough to be some small annoyance to the other, as their furtive whispers filter down the stairs. And I should be worried. Where there are whispers there are plans, and where there are plans there are ideas that usually turn out badly. Nevertheless, I'm letting them play undisturbed in order to give my mind the mental break it so desperately desires ...
And it desires it desperately, as desperately as it now desires sleep even though I've much to do and more to come tomorrow.
In Need of an Air Conditioner
Does anyone buy the excuse that it's too hot to blog? Cause it is. Too hot. Too damn hot. And my God, I can't believe I'm saying this ... But I wish - wish with all my heart - that it would snow. And if it did snow, I'd be outside dancing in my front yard barefoot ....
What else can I say?
Work was long and boring ... Between phone issues and computer issues, we wasted most of the day conversing through the walls and amusing ourselves with game after game of free cell. I am a free cell master by the way ...
Coming home I attempted to do some chores around the house, only to come to the conclusion that cleaning in this sort of heat should be a criminal offense punishable by law. Needless to say, I vacuumed, I dusted and then I sat my ass down and said "Fogedaboutit" ...
Anyhoo ... I need to go raid the freezer for a freezy pop. I think orange sounds good this time around.
What else can I say?
Work was long and boring ... Between phone issues and computer issues, we wasted most of the day conversing through the walls and amusing ourselves with game after game of free cell. I am a free cell master by the way ...
Coming home I attempted to do some chores around the house, only to come to the conclusion that cleaning in this sort of heat should be a criminal offense punishable by law. Needless to say, I vacuumed, I dusted and then I sat my ass down and said "Fogedaboutit" ...
Anyhoo ... I need to go raid the freezer for a freezy pop. I think orange sounds good this time around.
Hazards of Sleeping In
I should have known by the excessive silence this morning that something was most definitely up in my kitchen ... But for some reason, I never would have guessed that the two girls (KC had a friend over last night) would take it upon themselves to clean up last night's dishes this morning. But I was bit scared as I pulled open the dishwasher (every house should have one) door, only to find it all sorts of empty.
"We washed them by hand," announced my daughter in a voice laced with pride. And it was all I could do to stop the look of dismay I was sure was flashing across my face as I thought to myself, "Oh God no ..."
I don't even want to think about it yet. Think about all the dishes put away quite out of place in my cupboards that are most likely not as clean as clean should be. Because my daughter - in all her nine going on ten years - has never and by this I mean never ever, washed a dish by hand in her entire life. I've good reason to be scared ...
So it's all I can do to wait long enough for later when the girls are preoccupied by something else to go through the cupboards and load most of their contents into the dishwasher for a little re-washing ...
However, considering the screeches coming from upstairs and the knowledge that my pup tent is probably in danger (the girls had an indoor camping event last night) of being un-pupped, I should probably go up and take in the carnage for myself. And even though I'm only guessing, I have a feeling that today is going to be a very long day indeed ...
"We washed them by hand," announced my daughter in a voice laced with pride. And it was all I could do to stop the look of dismay I was sure was flashing across my face as I thought to myself, "Oh God no ..."
I don't even want to think about it yet. Think about all the dishes put away quite out of place in my cupboards that are most likely not as clean as clean should be. Because my daughter - in all her nine going on ten years - has never and by this I mean never ever, washed a dish by hand in her entire life. I've good reason to be scared ...
So it's all I can do to wait long enough for later when the girls are preoccupied by something else to go through the cupboards and load most of their contents into the dishwasher for a little re-washing ...
However, considering the screeches coming from upstairs and the knowledge that my pup tent is probably in danger (the girls had an indoor camping event last night) of being un-pupped, I should probably go up and take in the carnage for myself. And even though I'm only guessing, I have a feeling that today is going to be a very long day indeed ...
Places To Call Home ...
Some people love the ocean. Love walking between the sand and surf with bare toes. Some people love the city. The sound of traffic and life moving at a frantic pace. Some people love the country. Love watching the stars in a clear, black sky with silence as their only backdrop. But me, I love the mountains most. The way the earth smells of pine and moss. The blueness of the mountains at twilight. The sound of a loon carrying across the water. The slow lap of the tide on a narrow stretch of sandbar. When I am there, I am home. And a smile lights on my face like no other smile can. And I am always loathe to leave on my downward trek to the valley.
Hollywood Blog
With all this talk about Tom Cruise in the media lately, I just thought I'd put it out there that I am absolutely not a fan of his. And it seems to me, that no matter the role he's portraying, he never comes off as anyone other than himself, which doesn't exactly lend any credence to his films ... Not that I torture myself with watching too many of them, as I'm a bit of a movie snob at times.
And why is it my Good Morning America news has to gush all over this whole Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes thing? Does the nation really need to know about their dating life or the fact that he's a bit of a wacko when in "love"? (Really Tom, the one knee elbow jerk thing is so much over the top that it comes off as disingenuous.) And Katie Holmes ... Poor girl. I quite imagine that she'll be completely disillusioned when things go sour, as in Hollywood they are wont to do.
Oy ... Listen to me now. I'm so out of topics to blog about that I'm wasting precious words on people I don't know and wouldn't care to meet. I may be a bit green over their no need to worry about paying the bills on time, but I certainly wouldn't want to live my life in the spotlight ... Not that I'd mind getting doused with some water about now ... It's freaking hot.
A good time to seek my fan I think ... And by that, I mean the one that twirls round and round bringing me cool, soft breezes.
So peace out people. Cause as Arnie says, "I'll be back."
And why is it my Good Morning America news has to gush all over this whole Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes thing? Does the nation really need to know about their dating life or the fact that he's a bit of a wacko when in "love"? (Really Tom, the one knee elbow jerk thing is so much over the top that it comes off as disingenuous.) And Katie Holmes ... Poor girl. I quite imagine that she'll be completely disillusioned when things go sour, as in Hollywood they are wont to do.
Oy ... Listen to me now. I'm so out of topics to blog about that I'm wasting precious words on people I don't know and wouldn't care to meet. I may be a bit green over their no need to worry about paying the bills on time, but I certainly wouldn't want to live my life in the spotlight ... Not that I'd mind getting doused with some water about now ... It's freaking hot.
A good time to seek my fan I think ... And by that, I mean the one that twirls round and round bringing me cool, soft breezes.
So peace out people. Cause as Arnie says, "I'll be back."
Dinner and A Movie
Brenda demands to know where the posts are, and here it is. At least one for tonight anyway.
We - as in my nephew and I - just finished watching the Phantom of the Opera movie ... And much to his enjoyment, I cried like a baby at the end. I mean, who could help themselves? Oh to have such choices between the handsome Raoul and the deep (though somewhat scary) passions of the Phantom. It's every girls dream.
I burned my hand quite bad tonight. I was cleaning up after dinner and was rolling the leftovers in Reynolds wrap to freeze when the palm of my hand accidentally connected with 400 degree hotness ... And for a moment, I was actually frozen in pain before I thought to move quickly to the sink and put my hand under cold water. Two hours and many, many ice cubes later, my hand feels much better although it's still tender to touch where an ugly looking blister has formed.
I'm going to be more than alright though despite depressing myself over a wonderfully done movie and the countless numbers of dreamy sighs that followed ... And it seems to me, I might just have to go out and add that movie to my collection. However, not tonight. I've a bit more work to do on my Father's Day project (and yes, I did find the perfect song, thanks for everyone for their input, their time and their help) before calling it a night.
We - as in my nephew and I - just finished watching the Phantom of the Opera movie ... And much to his enjoyment, I cried like a baby at the end. I mean, who could help themselves? Oh to have such choices between the handsome Raoul and the deep (though somewhat scary) passions of the Phantom. It's every girls dream.
I burned my hand quite bad tonight. I was cleaning up after dinner and was rolling the leftovers in Reynolds wrap to freeze when the palm of my hand accidentally connected with 400 degree hotness ... And for a moment, I was actually frozen in pain before I thought to move quickly to the sink and put my hand under cold water. Two hours and many, many ice cubes later, my hand feels much better although it's still tender to touch where an ugly looking blister has formed.
I'm going to be more than alright though despite depressing myself over a wonderfully done movie and the countless numbers of dreamy sighs that followed ... And it seems to me, I might just have to go out and add that movie to my collection. However, not tonight. I've a bit more work to do on my Father's Day project (and yes, I did find the perfect song, thanks for everyone for their input, their time and their help) before calling it a night.
Cinderella In Search of a Shoe
The one thing that keeps me from being perfect is perfection ... Something I might add I've never claimed to be. In fact, the whole statement seems rather absurd. And yet, I try to be perfect a lot. Though to be completely honest, I'm as far away from it as possible in one of those the more I try the further I get away from it all things ...
But when it comes to projects ... Such as the one I've spent the last few days working on, anything short of perfection just isn't good enough. And though I'm satisfied with part one of my three part project, part two is giving me a run for my money. And I'm flat broke.
The thing is, I can't find the right song. And trust me, I've been just about everywhere to find it, including searching my entire collection of music which brought me to the conclusion that my tastes are not exactly the kind of choices one would put as a backdrop to a picture CD full of memories ...
For you see, just like the project I made for Mother's Day, Father's Day is requiring much of the same effort. Mom's was easy though. We like enough of the same music that I can pretty much hear a song and know whether or not she'd like it ... With the exception of a few random Tori songs that I dig while she simply feigns amusement and humors me for my own good ...
And without the right music, I can't even begin to edit my project, let alone set it to the right rhythm. And without rhythm, it just won't mean a thing.
So what is a girl to do? Choose a song that will work, though it's obviously not the best or wait until crunch time relying on the luck of the Gods to bring me the song I need? Or do I simply implore all of you out there to think this over in your brains and share your thoughts if any such thoughts should come? Or just scream really, really loudly for help?
Anyhoo ... I'm out to finish searching upstairs. Maybe if I look hard enough something (or anything closer than where I'm currently at) will come to me and be just right.
Keep your fingers crossed.
But when it comes to projects ... Such as the one I've spent the last few days working on, anything short of perfection just isn't good enough. And though I'm satisfied with part one of my three part project, part two is giving me a run for my money. And I'm flat broke.
The thing is, I can't find the right song. And trust me, I've been just about everywhere to find it, including searching my entire collection of music which brought me to the conclusion that my tastes are not exactly the kind of choices one would put as a backdrop to a picture CD full of memories ...
For you see, just like the project I made for Mother's Day, Father's Day is requiring much of the same effort. Mom's was easy though. We like enough of the same music that I can pretty much hear a song and know whether or not she'd like it ... With the exception of a few random Tori songs that I dig while she simply feigns amusement and humors me for my own good ...
And without the right music, I can't even begin to edit my project, let alone set it to the right rhythm. And without rhythm, it just won't mean a thing.
So what is a girl to do? Choose a song that will work, though it's obviously not the best or wait until crunch time relying on the luck of the Gods to bring me the song I need? Or do I simply implore all of you out there to think this over in your brains and share your thoughts if any such thoughts should come? Or just scream really, really loudly for help?
Anyhoo ... I'm out to finish searching upstairs. Maybe if I look hard enough something (or anything closer than where I'm currently at) will come to me and be just right.
Keep your fingers crossed.
Dancing in the Rain
I don't normally get geeky over the weather, but ... It's raining! It's finally raining! Goodbye heat wave. See you later sauna! Bring on the storm clouds. I celebrate you cloudy, wet and wonderful weather ... Keep on raining!
Lazy Sunday in the Sun
Today has been full of the usual chores ... Laundry, dishes, vacuuming and if I make it to the bottom of the list, dusting. Not on the usual list was bathing of the cats. Something that is undertaken with a wee bit of terror (on my part) and a whole lot of screeching (on Octavia's part) and a hurry up and get this over with look (on Emma's part) and a but I want to help give the cats a bath (on KC's part) and a I just want to get through this completely unscathed (on my part) ...
And other than one major scratch, thanks to Octavia the kitten of doom, it wasn't near as bad as I thought it was going to be. But this only because Emma makes giving a cat a bath look easy. And it is, with her ... She's been getting baths since the very first day I brought her home and though it's quite obvious she isn't thrilled with the idea, she's the only cat I've ever known to sit patiently beneath the tub's spicket as water pours over her. Tavi on the other hand was playing like MacGyver doing everything and anything to get out of the sink and on to freedom.
Thankfully now that the cats spa treatment is done and over with, I can now get on to the getting on with my day and get into the shower in order to get out of the house and down the roads to Dad's, where I plan on spending the rest of the afternoon - dusting done or not - in the pool, soaking up some sun and doing a bit of fluff reading while reclining on the floaty thing ...
Sigh ... Some days it doesn't take much to please me at all.
And other than one major scratch, thanks to Octavia the kitten of doom, it wasn't near as bad as I thought it was going to be. But this only because Emma makes giving a cat a bath look easy. And it is, with her ... She's been getting baths since the very first day I brought her home and though it's quite obvious she isn't thrilled with the idea, she's the only cat I've ever known to sit patiently beneath the tub's spicket as water pours over her. Tavi on the other hand was playing like MacGyver doing everything and anything to get out of the sink and on to freedom.
Thankfully now that the cats spa treatment is done and over with, I can now get on to the getting on with my day and get into the shower in order to get out of the house and down the roads to Dad's, where I plan on spending the rest of the afternoon - dusting done or not - in the pool, soaking up some sun and doing a bit of fluff reading while reclining on the floaty thing ...
Sigh ... Some days it doesn't take much to please me at all.
To Be Continued ...
Busy, busy morning ahead of me. Well, really a busy, busy day. Meeting up with Bren this morning to bustle all of the kiddies to the movies to see Madagascar and then tonight a little relay for life walking beneath the stars. And if I had to take a guess, I'd say there's going to be a lot of random silliness inbetween.
But for now I'm all about a quick, cold shower, eating a bagel for breakfast and hitting the open road with the windows down and the sunroof open. Not a problem for a girl whose bad hair days far out number her good hair days ...
So to all of you out there in this great big somewhere, think happy thoughts and smile, smile, smile ...
But for now I'm all about a quick, cold shower, eating a bagel for breakfast and hitting the open road with the windows down and the sunroof open. Not a problem for a girl whose bad hair days far out number her good hair days ...
So to all of you out there in this great big somewhere, think happy thoughts and smile, smile, smile ...
Bit of an Ouch
I think I may be a bit bruised and battered.
After work tonight I went over to my Father's house for an impromptu family dinner, followed by a refreshing dip in the pool. Something that should have been relaxing, though it turned out to be somewhat painful. My niece, quite proud of her new able to jump in the pool with no fear status, called me over at one point to catch her. And catch her I did. Except not with my hands. Instead she caught me completely off guard and smashed into me so hard, it stole the breath from my chest.
"Sorry Aunt Stacey," her little voice said as she paddled her way back to the stairs. I just stood back, pressing my back against the side of the pool, waiting for the pain of impact to ebb, all the while thinking that's going to leave one hell of a bruise.
But in reality, I'm none the worse for wear. Accidents happen and I'm no stranger to being in the way of moving and inanimate objects ... In other words, I'm more klutz than grace 98.9 percent of the time.
After work tonight I went over to my Father's house for an impromptu family dinner, followed by a refreshing dip in the pool. Something that should have been relaxing, though it turned out to be somewhat painful. My niece, quite proud of her new able to jump in the pool with no fear status, called me over at one point to catch her. And catch her I did. Except not with my hands. Instead she caught me completely off guard and smashed into me so hard, it stole the breath from my chest.
"Sorry Aunt Stacey," her little voice said as she paddled her way back to the stairs. I just stood back, pressing my back against the side of the pool, waiting for the pain of impact to ebb, all the while thinking that's going to leave one hell of a bruise.
But in reality, I'm none the worse for wear. Accidents happen and I'm no stranger to being in the way of moving and inanimate objects ... In other words, I'm more klutz than grace 98.9 percent of the time.
Ice Cubism
How?
How am I supposed to think, let alone write anything of any interest at all when I am frying like an egg in a cast iron frying pan?
I need ice cubes. And lots of them. I want to fill my bed with ice cubes and sleep in it's comfy coldness. Until they start melting that is. I've no desire to sleep in the infamous wet spot.
I seriously don't know how people who live down South can take this sort of heat and humidity day after day. I would much rather deal with freezing rain, sleet and snow. Until it's raining, sleeting and snowing ... And then I remember days like these with a fond wistfulness that doesn't remember dehydrating like a raisin - in the sun.
Oh air conditioner. Wherefore art thou, air conditioner?
How am I supposed to think, let alone write anything of any interest at all when I am frying like an egg in a cast iron frying pan?
I need ice cubes. And lots of them. I want to fill my bed with ice cubes and sleep in it's comfy coldness. Until they start melting that is. I've no desire to sleep in the infamous wet spot.
I seriously don't know how people who live down South can take this sort of heat and humidity day after day. I would much rather deal with freezing rain, sleet and snow. Until it's raining, sleeting and snowing ... And then I remember days like these with a fond wistfulness that doesn't remember dehydrating like a raisin - in the sun.
Oh air conditioner. Wherefore art thou, air conditioner?
Full of Hot Air
The next time I get the brilliant idea to blow up a kiddy pool by breath alone, I want someone to remind me of nearly passing out from the exertion of it all. Especially when it happens to be almost eighty nine degrees outside with no hint of a breeze whatsoever. Talk about what was I thinking ... What was I thinking?
Blowing the pool up however was the easy part. Bren and I had to take a special run to the Home Depot in search of an adaptor for the faucet which would allow me to run a garden hose from the kitchen sink to the inflatable pool outside.
I'd like to take the time right now to point out that we did actually manage to be in the RIGHT aisle, and right in front of the parts we needed, though we did ask for assistance just to make sure we had it right before we got all the way home ... That sort of mistake would have cost me a lot more than my pride ...
Anyhoo after Gramps got done flirting with us, and I managed to slip my phone number to him with a smiley face and a call me note, (okay maybe not so much on that second thing) we headed to the check out where Bren made me go outside of my comfort zone and through the self check out ... (This is the it's all her fault portion of this entry.)
As if I didn't know better ...
And yet, it turned out to be much easier than I thought. Until I got outside that is, and realized as I was pushing the cart into the corral, that hmmmm ... Where'd my bag go?
Rocket scientist that I am, I scanned the merchandise, paid for the merchandise and then ... (drum roll please) walked right out the door without it. I am such a moron!
So of course, I sent Bren back into the store to get my forgotten items ...
You didn't think I was about to go back in all red faced with embarrassment did you? No way, Jose.
And you know it's bad when the very first thing that comes out of your best friend's mouth is, "Well at least now you can blog about your field trip to Home Depot today."
Yay me!
In other news, I got the much anticipated email today, and none too soon ... My arms were beginning to look rather tasty. But more on that later. This girl has got to get to bed. It's Monday tomorrow ...
Blowing the pool up however was the easy part. Bren and I had to take a special run to the Home Depot in search of an adaptor for the faucet which would allow me to run a garden hose from the kitchen sink to the inflatable pool outside.
I'd like to take the time right now to point out that we did actually manage to be in the RIGHT aisle, and right in front of the parts we needed, though we did ask for assistance just to make sure we had it right before we got all the way home ... That sort of mistake would have cost me a lot more than my pride ...
Anyhoo after Gramps got done flirting with us, and I managed to slip my phone number to him with a smiley face and a call me note, (okay maybe not so much on that second thing) we headed to the check out where Bren made me go outside of my comfort zone and through the self check out ... (This is the it's all her fault portion of this entry.)
As if I didn't know better ...
And yet, it turned out to be much easier than I thought. Until I got outside that is, and realized as I was pushing the cart into the corral, that hmmmm ... Where'd my bag go?
Rocket scientist that I am, I scanned the merchandise, paid for the merchandise and then ... (drum roll please) walked right out the door without it. I am such a moron!
So of course, I sent Bren back into the store to get my forgotten items ...
You didn't think I was about to go back in all red faced with embarrassment did you? No way, Jose.
And you know it's bad when the very first thing that comes out of your best friend's mouth is, "Well at least now you can blog about your field trip to Home Depot today."
Yay me!
In other news, I got the much anticipated email today, and none too soon ... My arms were beginning to look rather tasty. But more on that later. This girl has got to get to bed. It's Monday tomorrow ...
Star Light, Star Bright
Despite the hour, I'm considering this my Saturday post. It is after all the middle of the night and not something I consider to be Sunday just yet.
Well, I did it.
I wrote an email to Tracy and hit the good old send button. Now all I have to do is wait, and not gnaw my arms off in the process. Patience has never been my thing. Ever ...
I slept until noon today. Probably why I'm still awake and fully functioning now, when normally I'd be enjoying the comfort of my bed while dreaming. But it's kind of nice being awake and listening to the quiet that surrounds me and watching the stars from my window that twinkle unabashedly overhead.
There's something very close to magical when it comes to gazing up at the stars. People everywhere should do more of it ... Maybe then, this world wouldn't seem quite as complicated as it can.
As for me, I think a few more minutes of stargazing are in order and then maybe, just maybe, I'll give sleeping a second thought.
Well, I did it.
I wrote an email to Tracy and hit the good old send button. Now all I have to do is wait, and not gnaw my arms off in the process. Patience has never been my thing. Ever ...
I slept until noon today. Probably why I'm still awake and fully functioning now, when normally I'd be enjoying the comfort of my bed while dreaming. But it's kind of nice being awake and listening to the quiet that surrounds me and watching the stars from my window that twinkle unabashedly overhead.
There's something very close to magical when it comes to gazing up at the stars. People everywhere should do more of it ... Maybe then, this world wouldn't seem quite as complicated as it can.
As for me, I think a few more minutes of stargazing are in order and then maybe, just maybe, I'll give sleeping a second thought.
Stories Without Endings
There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
We were the girls of Penfield Hall. Brought together by accident. Brought together by fate. Five points of light that became the best of friends, until like a supernova we burnt ourselves out, scattering our remnants in different directions throughout the galaxy.
In the back of my mind, I have always wondered. Wondered what life would have been like had things not gone the way they did. Had we made better choices, or smarter decisions, or had we known that the path before us would prove to be so difficult. An uphill climb. Would we have changed a thing?
Pictures of random memories fill my mind and make me laugh. Like the time we skipped our classes to watch Jeopardy. Showing up in the dining hall with our pajamas on and our baseball caps slung low over our eyes, too hungover to move but too hungry to stay in bed. Night after night after night of bar hopping and bed hopping and acting like fools on the long walk back from the creek.
And who could forget the boys?
Jay Bear, Guinea, Eric, Spider, Jim Beam, Dennis, PJ, Kleahner, Chip, Tommy, Jimmy, Paulsy, Bob, Daryn with a 'Y" ... Ryder, Slapper, Ray, Lee, OJ, Little Lou, Double Marc, Matt aka the Weasel, Kinger, Vazanno, Tim, and many, many more that would take too long to remember.
We had some awesome times. House parties at Tommy's. My Ouija beer. Buds at PJ's on Baker Street, and the infamous tucking it ... Robin breaking PJ's nose. Brenda and her noisy outburst by the chain link fence only minutes after leaving a crowded bar that had been chanting Coley. Tracy dangling worms from her mouth. Carrie crying loud enough to shatter glass. And the well known (but little used) price list for cheap touches below the waist (. 25 cents) that hung on the wall in our suite, which only furthered our college nickname along, so that when we walked to and from our dorms, there was always someone calling out, "Hey Hookers!"
The good times are easy to remember. They bring smiles, familiar stories I have told a thousand times, and a warmth much like a comforting hug. Those times I wouldn't trade. But bad followed good in those days. And things went wrong as they were wont to do. And when put to the test, we all failed quite miserably.
Brenda dropped out of college. Robin decided to take a year off. Carrie, Tracy and I held on as long as we could. I moved back home at the end of October. Carrie and Tracy packed up and left too. I haven't spoken to either since. In May I found out I was pregnant, four months later Brenda found out she was too. We had our babies, me a girl and Brenda a boy. And somehow I lost touch with Robin.
The girls of Penfield Hall were no longer.
And yet there is light ... A small and silent beacon beginning to glow, beginning to come back into its own being. The initial three. Brenda, Robin and I, talk and if not regularly, email. And Carrie too. Though I have yet to speak to her or hear of her through any other means than Robin. And tonight, we have come full circle. Tracy has been found.
I want so desperately to contact all of them. To bring us back together. The new, the improved, the older and the wiser. I want so much for all the water to be under the bridge, to be able to pick up the phone and call any one of them and tell them everything on my mind. I want my best friends back. All of them.
There is a story to be told. It's had its beginning, it's witnessed its end and now it asks to have its middle ...
String Around the Finger
I have the world's worst memory. And when it comes to remembering something important, I'm not above sticking a post it note on the back of my front door that reads, "Today is a company recognized holiday. Do not pass go. Do not go to work, but go directly back upstairs to bed." And yes, I have gone to work before only to realize that I was the only car in the parking lot ... Damn!
And so as Moe was leaving today (the lucky bastard was on the early shift) he stopped at my door and said with a grin on his face, "Don't forget we've got the meeting tomorrow morning." A meeting I had already forgotten ... And one he knew I had already forgotten judging by the sarcastic little upturn of his lips.
Being the smart girl that I sometimes am, I decided right then and there that something had to be done. And so I did the only thing that I could think of on the spur of the moment. I called home to my answering machine.
I'd like to take a moment now and admit that I do indeed have an incredibly dorky and yet somehow still adorable side. And while I'm at it, I'll also admit that I do sing in the car, flip people off when they're not looking, stick my tongue out of my mouth at least 2 times a day while making weird faces, and have been known to say the most incredibly stupid things. Although it should be noted, that the incredibly stupid things are more prone to come out of my mouth with a member of the male species standing nearby ...
Back to the answering machine message. Now I know a lot of people out there might have just left a basic memo like message on their machine to remind them, but come on, if you haven't learned by now that I'm not like most people, you haven't read nearly enough of the archives ... And seriously what girl wouldn't want to go home to this message?
"Hello there you gorgeous creature. This is your friendly reminder to set your alarm and get your ass out of bed extra early tomorrow morning for your meeting. And just to tell you right now, there will be no hitting the snooze button come morning. Not even once, so get to it! Oh and yeah, peace out yo."
And so as Moe was leaving today (the lucky bastard was on the early shift) he stopped at my door and said with a grin on his face, "Don't forget we've got the meeting tomorrow morning." A meeting I had already forgotten ... And one he knew I had already forgotten judging by the sarcastic little upturn of his lips.
Being the smart girl that I sometimes am, I decided right then and there that something had to be done. And so I did the only thing that I could think of on the spur of the moment. I called home to my answering machine.
I'd like to take a moment now and admit that I do indeed have an incredibly dorky and yet somehow still adorable side. And while I'm at it, I'll also admit that I do sing in the car, flip people off when they're not looking, stick my tongue out of my mouth at least 2 times a day while making weird faces, and have been known to say the most incredibly stupid things. Although it should be noted, that the incredibly stupid things are more prone to come out of my mouth with a member of the male species standing nearby ...
Back to the answering machine message. Now I know a lot of people out there might have just left a basic memo like message on their machine to remind them, but come on, if you haven't learned by now that I'm not like most people, you haven't read nearly enough of the archives ... And seriously what girl wouldn't want to go home to this message?
"Hello there you gorgeous creature. This is your friendly reminder to set your alarm and get your ass out of bed extra early tomorrow morning for your meeting. And just to tell you right now, there will be no hitting the snooze button come morning. Not even once, so get to it! Oh and yeah, peace out yo."
