Well, just a couple days ago I found a long lost friend from high school. I found her on Myspace. I have a profile I put up a couple years ago when my kids got interested in Myspace. The deal was they had to have me as a friend so that I could access their profile.
I actually found 2 other former classmates on Myspace, but I have been trying to find this particular friend, Terri, for years with no luck. I searched and found her sister about a year ago, and asked her to pass along my email to Terri but she didn't for some reason, so I had kind of given up. Surprisingly, on Sunday I got a message from the sister saying Terri was now on Myspace. Yay!
We've exchanged messages and caught up with each other's lives in a nutshell, but I look forward to getting to know her again.
Terri was a year younger than me in high school, and we hit it off in PE when we realized we both felt the same way about it---awkward and out of place. We were both shy as well and not in any of the cliques.
She and I would often slip out of the far corner of the field when the PE teacher was not paying attention, then we would take our time wandering around until slipping back onto campus for our next class.
She would often accompany me and my dad on our summer fishing trips too. We would go horseback riding, and swimming and play board games and laugh by the hour.
One time in particular, Dad and I took her to the top of a mountain to see our favorite fire lookout and as we were winding our way back down the mountain on the bumpy dirt road, we came to a spot where we had a clear view of the lookout above us. My friend Terri took in the scene and then said, "Wow! If we were still up there we could see ourselves!" When she realized what she said, we all had a good laugh about it, and my dad still thinks that's one of the funniest lines ever.
I'm so thankful I live in an age when a few clicks on a keyboard can reunite us with someone special from our past. It's really incredible to think about.
Showing posts with label Nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nostalgia. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Prom Update
Sis made it to the junior prom on Saturday.
I did her hair. Twice. My niece did her make-up while I did her nails. We only had to do that once, thankfully! Then Sis took off to finish getting ready at her friend's house with some other girls.
Despite going with her ex-boyfriend whom she wasn't speaking to just a week ago, she said she had a great time. (She said she apologized even though she felt she shouldn't have had to, but in the interest of fun at the prom they put their differences behind them.)
Sis has accused me of living vicariously through her with this whole prom experience, and she is probably right. I dropped out of school part way through my junior year. I got my diploma and went on to get a 2 year degree, but I never had the fun high school experiences that so many others did. I chalk it up to being painfully shy and to not fitting in to any of the campus cliques.
I know even if I had stuck it out in high school I wouldn't have attended a prom, I was always so socially retarded and afraid to dance. I still surprise myself when I think that now I belly dance!
I certainly wish that I had had a better time in high school, but I am thankful that my kids (well at least my 2 older ones for now) will have good memories of their time in high school.
And Sis is talking about throwing me a prom for my 50th birthday...so maybe it's never too late!
I did her hair. Twice. My niece did her make-up while I did her nails. We only had to do that once, thankfully! Then Sis took off to finish getting ready at her friend's house with some other girls.
Despite going with her ex-boyfriend whom she wasn't speaking to just a week ago, she said she had a great time. (She said she apologized even though she felt she shouldn't have had to, but in the interest of fun at the prom they put their differences behind them.)
Sis has accused me of living vicariously through her with this whole prom experience, and she is probably right. I dropped out of school part way through my junior year. I got my diploma and went on to get a 2 year degree, but I never had the fun high school experiences that so many others did. I chalk it up to being painfully shy and to not fitting in to any of the campus cliques.
I know even if I had stuck it out in high school I wouldn't have attended a prom, I was always so socially retarded and afraid to dance. I still surprise myself when I think that now I belly dance!
I certainly wish that I had had a better time in high school, but I am thankful that my kids (well at least my 2 older ones for now) will have good memories of their time in high school.
And Sis is talking about throwing me a prom for my 50th birthday...so maybe it's never too late!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Bear Turds
This is my favorite quick chocolate fix. Behold the loveliness of my famous Bear Turds:
I've been making them for almost as long as I remember. I was probably 10 or 11 I guess, when I was bored and craving chocolate, and came across this no bake recipe for Chocolate Drop Quickies in my grandma's Betty Crocker cookbook circa 1961.
Grandma must have given this book to my mom, but I know it was Grandma's because it bears the scars of surviving her house fire and I recognize her writing on the cover and inside. Thermidore was apparently on page 269 and Chicken Fried Steak was page 304. I may just have to look those up and cook them at some point.
At any rate, I started baking at a young age and these were always one of my tried and true favorites. Simple ingredients, plus they were quick and easy. And the best part of making them is licking the pan-yum!
I have called them Bear Turds for as long as I remember. I've never really thought twice about it. My family has always had a bit of an irreverent sense of humor. In fact I remember my mom making this fantastic fresh raspberry dessert and my dad, as a joke, and in hopes of keeping everyone out of the leftovers so he could have it all for himself, made a sign that said "Danger! Dog Logs-Keep out!" and placed it on the bowl containing the dessert in the fridge. (You see, he called dog poo, dog logs. So instead of going out in the back yard to shovel dog poo he would go "logging".) We all got a laugh as we opened the fridge to see his sorry attempt at deterring us from consuming it. Sadly from that point on that scrumptious, gorgeous dessert became known as Dog Logs.
It is a bit embarrassing when we have friends over and the kids offer them a Bear Turd. I always cringe and hope they don't mention it to their parents when they go home: "Mom, guess what we ate at Lesley's house!" Alas, I have no one to blame but myself (and my dad)!
I've been making them for almost as long as I remember. I was probably 10 or 11 I guess, when I was bored and craving chocolate, and came across this no bake recipe for Chocolate Drop Quickies in my grandma's Betty Crocker cookbook circa 1961.
Grandma must have given this book to my mom, but I know it was Grandma's because it bears the scars of surviving her house fire and I recognize her writing on the cover and inside. Thermidore was apparently on page 269 and Chicken Fried Steak was page 304. I may just have to look those up and cook them at some point.
At any rate, I started baking at a young age and these were always one of my tried and true favorites. Simple ingredients, plus they were quick and easy. And the best part of making them is licking the pan-yum!
I have called them Bear Turds for as long as I remember. I've never really thought twice about it. My family has always had a bit of an irreverent sense of humor. In fact I remember my mom making this fantastic fresh raspberry dessert and my dad, as a joke, and in hopes of keeping everyone out of the leftovers so he could have it all for himself, made a sign that said "Danger! Dog Logs-Keep out!" and placed it on the bowl containing the dessert in the fridge. (You see, he called dog poo, dog logs. So instead of going out in the back yard to shovel dog poo he would go "logging".) We all got a laugh as we opened the fridge to see his sorry attempt at deterring us from consuming it. Sadly from that point on that scrumptious, gorgeous dessert became known as Dog Logs.
It is a bit embarrassing when we have friends over and the kids offer them a Bear Turd. I always cringe and hope they don't mention it to their parents when they go home: "Mom, guess what we ate at Lesley's house!" Alas, I have no one to blame but myself (and my dad)!
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Bambi is a Happy Movie
Over the holidays I had a conversation with my son, and he said he and his girlfriend Cassie were remembering their favorite movies from childhood and they got on the discussion of Bambi. When Cassie mentioned how sad it was that Bambi's mother died, my son was astonished, "What!? Bambi's mom dies?" This was the first he'd heard of this.
Certainly Cassie was referring to a different movie. But no, the fact is that I would only let my son watch the beginning of the movie and I would turn it off when it got to the part where Bambi's mother was gunned down by the evil hunters. I deprived him or protected him, however you want to see it.
He did say however that at random times Winnie the Pooh songs just pop into his head. Now this I can understand. From the time he was 2 he knew how to operate the VCR and would freely pop in his Winnie the Pooh movies. He watched them so many times that he could repeat almost all of the dialog. But I'll take Winnie the Pooh over Bambi any day (and let's not even talk about the beginning of Nemo, sheesh!)
Certainly Cassie was referring to a different movie. But no, the fact is that I would only let my son watch the beginning of the movie and I would turn it off when it got to the part where Bambi's mother was gunned down by the evil hunters. I deprived him or protected him, however you want to see it.
He did say however that at random times Winnie the Pooh songs just pop into his head. Now this I can understand. From the time he was 2 he knew how to operate the VCR and would freely pop in his Winnie the Pooh movies. He watched them so many times that he could repeat almost all of the dialog. But I'll take Winnie the Pooh over Bambi any day (and let's not even talk about the beginning of Nemo, sheesh!)
Saturday, December 1, 2007
What Exactly is a Horehound Anyway?
Today I took the little girls and our dog down the hill to our humane society's fundraiser, Paws and Claus, where for $10 your critter can get their photo with Santa. It was pretty chaotic. There were other dogs everywhere plus 3 cats, one of which was in one of those pet strollers (hee, hee). I mean, it's a good idea and everything, but I still think those strollers are kind of goofy. I think the cat had the same opinion.
The girls got in the photo with Suey, our pit bull mix, and we got 3 shots, none of which were very good. In every photo, someone is looking the wrong way, mainly the humans. Even Santa couldn't get it right. Suey did pretty good at looking at the camera, but she has the wacky animal red eye in all of the photos, where it looks like you're looking into their skull and it's completely empty. I wasn't disappointed, I feel good about supporting the humane society no matter how bad their photography skills.
While we were waiting for them to print out our photos, we took a walk to the old fashioned candy store around the corner. Shelby wanted to see if they had horehound candy. She has been reading Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder and hearing about the candy in the book had piqued her interest. I waited outside the store and gave the girls instructions to go in, choose something, and then come out and mind the dog so I could pay for their treats.
They were in there a very long time. Finally a lady came out and told me my girls were waiting their turn very patiently while her mother made her purchases. She also told me how well-mannered they were and how Nat had told her the town where we lived, how old the dog was, and other interesting facts about our family. Nat loves to have conversations with whomever will listen---she is her father's daughter, no doubt about it!
They finally emerged and told me their choices. Shelby showed me a small tissue paper packet and told me the lady gave her some horehound candy to try. I paid for the girls' candy and came back out to find them spitting and drooling over a nearby flower planter. Horehound tastes about as good as it sounds apparently!
So that was our big outing today where we learned that the humane society people are good-hearted but not necessarily photographically inclined, and that back in the old days kids would eat anything if you called it "candy" and think it was fantastic. If only kids these days were so easy to please!
The girls got in the photo with Suey, our pit bull mix, and we got 3 shots, none of which were very good. In every photo, someone is looking the wrong way, mainly the humans. Even Santa couldn't get it right. Suey did pretty good at looking at the camera, but she has the wacky animal red eye in all of the photos, where it looks like you're looking into their skull and it's completely empty. I wasn't disappointed, I feel good about supporting the humane society no matter how bad their photography skills.
While we were waiting for them to print out our photos, we took a walk to the old fashioned candy store around the corner. Shelby wanted to see if they had horehound candy. She has been reading Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder and hearing about the candy in the book had piqued her interest. I waited outside the store and gave the girls instructions to go in, choose something, and then come out and mind the dog so I could pay for their treats.
They were in there a very long time. Finally a lady came out and told me my girls were waiting their turn very patiently while her mother made her purchases. She also told me how well-mannered they were and how Nat had told her the town where we lived, how old the dog was, and other interesting facts about our family. Nat loves to have conversations with whomever will listen---she is her father's daughter, no doubt about it!
They finally emerged and told me their choices. Shelby showed me a small tissue paper packet and told me the lady gave her some horehound candy to try. I paid for the girls' candy and came back out to find them spitting and drooling over a nearby flower planter. Horehound tastes about as good as it sounds apparently!
So that was our big outing today where we learned that the humane society people are good-hearted but not necessarily photographically inclined, and that back in the old days kids would eat anything if you called it "candy" and think it was fantastic. If only kids these days were so easy to please!
Friday, November 16, 2007
'Tis The Baking Season
The fabulous preschool Soup Dinner soup turned out to be just that (read the previous post to know what I'm talking about). And I made notes so I will know exactly what I did right. I just have to find the notes now...I put them on the counter of doom, so they've got to be here somewhere...shoot!
Thinking of preschool, for several years running I've been involved with our little co-op preschool and their annual day-before-Thanksgiving bake sale. This is the one big fund raiser of the year for this school, with the emphasis on BIG.
This bake sale is a huge seasonal event in our town, second only to the hanging of the lighted snowflakes on the power poles to welcome the skiers and their money to our slopes. The sale runs from 8am to noon, but is usually sold out before then.
Each family (and there is generally 16-20 families) is required to bake enough goods to equal a $90 profit. I usually bake about 6 pies, 6-8 loaves of banana or pumpkin breads, a couple batches of festive cookies and some cranberry bars. It is a ton of work not only because of the baking, but the goods have to be packaged to look like they fell out of an issue of Martha Stewart Living. Packaging and wrapping is not my strong suit as anyone who has received a gift from me can attest to.
So this year, since I'm fresh out of preschoolers, I don't have the bake sale pressure on me. Strangely though, I am so in the mode of baking my pants off at this time of year that I really am missing it. I volunteered to bring 3 pies to our family celebration even though there will be only about 7 of us there. I was worried that this might be a bit much but my sister assured me that there's no such thing as too much pie. I'm pretty sure she's right! I am also going to whip up a few pumpkin pies to drop off to the preschool as a donation, though I'll leave the wrapping and decorating up to them.
I guess it's kind of funny that when I'm not required to do something it's somehow a lot more appealing and fun to do.
Thinking of preschool, for several years running I've been involved with our little co-op preschool and their annual day-before-Thanksgiving bake sale. This is the one big fund raiser of the year for this school, with the emphasis on BIG.
This bake sale is a huge seasonal event in our town, second only to the hanging of the lighted snowflakes on the power poles to welcome the skiers and their money to our slopes. The sale runs from 8am to noon, but is usually sold out before then.
Each family (and there is generally 16-20 families) is required to bake enough goods to equal a $90 profit. I usually bake about 6 pies, 6-8 loaves of banana or pumpkin breads, a couple batches of festive cookies and some cranberry bars. It is a ton of work not only because of the baking, but the goods have to be packaged to look like they fell out of an issue of Martha Stewart Living. Packaging and wrapping is not my strong suit as anyone who has received a gift from me can attest to.
So this year, since I'm fresh out of preschoolers, I don't have the bake sale pressure on me. Strangely though, I am so in the mode of baking my pants off at this time of year that I really am missing it. I volunteered to bring 3 pies to our family celebration even though there will be only about 7 of us there. I was worried that this might be a bit much but my sister assured me that there's no such thing as too much pie. I'm pretty sure she's right! I am also going to whip up a few pumpkin pies to drop off to the preschool as a donation, though I'll leave the wrapping and decorating up to them.
I guess it's kind of funny that when I'm not required to do something it's somehow a lot more appealing and fun to do.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Snow on the Mountain
I'm making soup tonight. Soup Dinner soup. Our little co-op preschool has had a Soup Dinner for the kids and families every year for the past 25 or so years. Since all 4 of my kids have attended this preschool we have enjoyed quite a few Soup Dinner nights. The preschoolers cut the veggies for the soup and help get it in the pot and they decorate paper place mats for their family members, then that evening the soup, with its awkwardly butchered vegetables, is enjoyed by all.
Well, Sis remembered that this year, since we're fresh out of preschoolers, we aren't going to Soup Dinner. So she used the "Mommy" on me (see previous post) and today I'm making the Soup Dinner soup. I'm a little frustrated by the recipe as I am to add 1 can of tomato juice, 1 can of water, and 1 can of stewed tomatoes. No sizes. I'm guessing maybe 25+ years ago tomato products only came in one size?
Well I decided I would put in a big can of tomato juice because that seems to be the most common size, then I went to stewed tomatoes, and they seem to come in one size, but of course it's a different size than the juice. What about the water? Do I now use the big can or the little can? I chose the little one figuring I could always add more. This is not the first time I've made the soup, but it's been so long that I don't remember what I've done in years past. Today I'm going to make notes on the recipe--providing I don't completely mess it up.
This all reminds me of my family pastie recipe. That's PAST-EE, not PASTE-EE. Pasties (past-ees) are a Cornish meat and potato pie, pasties (paste-ees) are nipple covers. It's important to note the difference. Especially if you're having guests for dinner.
The recipe I have for pasties has been handed down on my dad's side of the family. His mom's family was Cornish miners who would take these pastry covered meat pies into the mines with them for lunch. Legend goes that the men would tuck their fresh from the oven pasties into their shirts on their way to work in the morning to keep themselves warm. Traditionally the pasties were made individually in a half-circle shape, but later they were made in a rectangular dish and called pastie pie which is an easier and faster way to make them, and works just as well unless you're in the habit of shoving it into your clothing.
I've been attempting to make pasties for years now. My mom was an expert at it. She took lessons from my dad's mother and grandmother, plus she had good cooking skills to begin with. My mom gave me the written recipe and I took lessons from her, but I still struggle with my pasties.
As with the soup recipe the pastie recipe is also a bit vague. I can handle grating the potatoes and carrots but here's a sample of when it gets a bit more difficult, "Cut meat and pile into a heap. Sprinkle the heap with pepper, and then enough salt so that it looks like a mountain with snow on top. Ok, I live in snow country, so I know what a mountain with snow on it looks like, but the first time I made pasties by myself they turned out so salty we couldn't even eat them. Apparently I was thinking more of a winter blizzard and the recipe was implying more of a spring flurry.
At least on my pastie recipe I make notes each time so that I learn from my weather interpreting mistakes. Even with my sorry pastie making skills (I won't even go into the challenge of making the pastry) they still turn out pretty darned delicious. Let's hope the soup fares as well tonight!
Well, Sis remembered that this year, since we're fresh out of preschoolers, we aren't going to Soup Dinner. So she used the "Mommy" on me (see previous post) and today I'm making the Soup Dinner soup. I'm a little frustrated by the recipe as I am to add 1 can of tomato juice, 1 can of water, and 1 can of stewed tomatoes. No sizes. I'm guessing maybe 25+ years ago tomato products only came in one size?
Well I decided I would put in a big can of tomato juice because that seems to be the most common size, then I went to stewed tomatoes, and they seem to come in one size, but of course it's a different size than the juice. What about the water? Do I now use the big can or the little can? I chose the little one figuring I could always add more. This is not the first time I've made the soup, but it's been so long that I don't remember what I've done in years past. Today I'm going to make notes on the recipe--providing I don't completely mess it up.
This all reminds me of my family pastie recipe. That's PAST-EE, not PASTE-EE. Pasties (past-ees) are a Cornish meat and potato pie, pasties (paste-ees) are nipple covers. It's important to note the difference. Especially if you're having guests for dinner.
The recipe I have for pasties has been handed down on my dad's side of the family. His mom's family was Cornish miners who would take these pastry covered meat pies into the mines with them for lunch. Legend goes that the men would tuck their fresh from the oven pasties into their shirts on their way to work in the morning to keep themselves warm. Traditionally the pasties were made individually in a half-circle shape, but later they were made in a rectangular dish and called pastie pie which is an easier and faster way to make them, and works just as well unless you're in the habit of shoving it into your clothing.
I've been attempting to make pasties for years now. My mom was an expert at it. She took lessons from my dad's mother and grandmother, plus she had good cooking skills to begin with. My mom gave me the written recipe and I took lessons from her, but I still struggle with my pasties.
As with the soup recipe the pastie recipe is also a bit vague. I can handle grating the potatoes and carrots but here's a sample of when it gets a bit more difficult, "Cut meat and pile into a heap. Sprinkle the heap with pepper, and then enough salt so that it looks like a mountain with snow on top. Ok, I live in snow country, so I know what a mountain with snow on it looks like, but the first time I made pasties by myself they turned out so salty we couldn't even eat them. Apparently I was thinking more of a winter blizzard and the recipe was implying more of a spring flurry.
At least on my pastie recipe I make notes each time so that I learn from my weather interpreting mistakes. Even with my sorry pastie making skills (I won't even go into the challenge of making the pastry) they still turn out pretty darned delicious. Let's hope the soup fares as well tonight!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
My How Times Have Changed!
So I have this huge ongoing project of taking all the boxes out of my closet and getting rid of stuff and organizing the rest of it. It's difficult sometimes to decide if a certain item should go or stay. Some things I keep because they have special meaning to me, other things I keep because they will be fun for the kids to have in the future. There is a fine line though, I don't want my poor kids to have a boatload of random stuff to sort through at some point.
One of the things I came across recently was my yearbooks from junior high and high school. This was back in the late 70's early 80's when we went to junior highs and not middle schools.
Some of the autographs in my yearbooks I would hesitate for my kids to read, as back then my friends and I liked to act like we were big stoners. A lot of the messages start out "High" because we thought that was so clever, and there's a lot of "don't party too hardy", "have a bitchen summer", "don't get too high" and various renderings of pot leaves. We were a high-brow bunch to say the least.
Some of my favorites were written by my dear friend from 4th grade. Here's one of the classics that she wrote in my 7th grade yearbook,"Keep cool this summer and don't get into too much trouble with your parents and you know who! Don't go with too many guys or get into cars with foxes, unless I'm with you." Now that's advice to live by! The greatest travesty in her mind was if I should happen to meet some foxy guys without her there. She really needn't have worried!
Yes, those were the days. She and I would either go to the mall or to the roller rink and look for "foxes". She was completely boy crazy and I was painfully shy. She would get lots of attention and I would be the tagalong wallflower. Just the memory of the feathered back hair do's, the skin tight Ditto's jeans and the big clunky shoes send a shiver down my spine.
What really caught my eye as I was going through this particular box was the graphic on the front of my yearbook from my junior year in high school, 1981:
and inside it looked like this:
I'm thinking this kind of art work wouldn't fly anymore. Back then Urban Cowboy with John Travolta was popular, and everyone wanted to look like a wanna-be cowpoke for some reason, so putting old west style revolvers in a yearbook wasn't even given a second thought. Just interesting...
Now, do I go through all of my old yearbooks and take a black Sharpie to the things I don't want my kids to see, or do I not worry about it because they are never going to be interested anyway? Big decisions and painful teenage memories await!
One of the things I came across recently was my yearbooks from junior high and high school. This was back in the late 70's early 80's when we went to junior highs and not middle schools.
Some of the autographs in my yearbooks I would hesitate for my kids to read, as back then my friends and I liked to act like we were big stoners. A lot of the messages start out "High" because we thought that was so clever, and there's a lot of "don't party too hardy", "have a bitchen summer", "don't get too high" and various renderings of pot leaves. We were a high-brow bunch to say the least.
Some of my favorites were written by my dear friend from 4th grade. Here's one of the classics that she wrote in my 7th grade yearbook,"Keep cool this summer and don't get into too much trouble with your parents and you know who! Don't go with too many guys or get into cars with foxes, unless I'm with you." Now that's advice to live by! The greatest travesty in her mind was if I should happen to meet some foxy guys without her there. She really needn't have worried!
Yes, those were the days. She and I would either go to the mall or to the roller rink and look for "foxes". She was completely boy crazy and I was painfully shy. She would get lots of attention and I would be the tagalong wallflower. Just the memory of the feathered back hair do's, the skin tight Ditto's jeans and the big clunky shoes send a shiver down my spine.
What really caught my eye as I was going through this particular box was the graphic on the front of my yearbook from my junior year in high school, 1981:
and inside it looked like this:
I'm thinking this kind of art work wouldn't fly anymore. Back then Urban Cowboy with John Travolta was popular, and everyone wanted to look like a wanna-be cowpoke for some reason, so putting old west style revolvers in a yearbook wasn't even given a second thought. Just interesting...
Now, do I go through all of my old yearbooks and take a black Sharpie to the things I don't want my kids to see, or do I not worry about it because they are never going to be interested anyway? Big decisions and painful teenage memories await!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Special TV Bonding Time
Every Wednesday Sis and I make a bee-line for the couch at 8pm to watch America's Next Top Model. Yes, I admit it. Yes, I enjoy it. Yes they are a bunch of whiney, anorexic looking, brats, but that's what makes it so fun to make fun of. We love to hate the bitchy selfish girls and we love to root for the shy misunderstood ones. It's just a great show for female bonding time.
Tonight was the makeover episode which is the episode we look forward to the most next to the finale. It seems like someone always gets shaved bald, and tonight was no different. This one gal had colored and permed and abused her hair into oblivion and they had no choice but to use the clippers on it. Of course she did nothing but bitch, moan and complain about it for the rest of the show.
It reminded me of my beauty school days. There was this one girl at school who had bleached and dyed and permed and teased her hair into a soft platinum fuzz. I remember being kind of alarmed at the sight of it. She still didn't get it though. She was always trying to do more things to it. She had even bleached and damaged it so much that it was incapable of absorbing anymore color. I had my own name for her hair; I called it Frog Fluff.
ANTM brought other memories back to me too. It reminded me of the evenings watching a show with my mom. I remember we were big fans of St. Elsewhere and Knots Landing. We also watched all the sitcoms especially the Thursday night line-up on NBC, back when it was The Cosby Show, Cheers and Hill St. Blues. Those were really good memories of female bonding as well, and I feel really fortunate to have that feeling of bonding again with my own daughter. Yes, even a silly tv show can bring us together with the ones we love, and I'll take bonding wherever I can get it.
Tonight was the makeover episode which is the episode we look forward to the most next to the finale. It seems like someone always gets shaved bald, and tonight was no different. This one gal had colored and permed and abused her hair into oblivion and they had no choice but to use the clippers on it. Of course she did nothing but bitch, moan and complain about it for the rest of the show.
It reminded me of my beauty school days. There was this one girl at school who had bleached and dyed and permed and teased her hair into a soft platinum fuzz. I remember being kind of alarmed at the sight of it. She still didn't get it though. She was always trying to do more things to it. She had even bleached and damaged it so much that it was incapable of absorbing anymore color. I had my own name for her hair; I called it Frog Fluff.
ANTM brought other memories back to me too. It reminded me of the evenings watching a show with my mom. I remember we were big fans of St. Elsewhere and Knots Landing. We also watched all the sitcoms especially the Thursday night line-up on NBC, back when it was The Cosby Show, Cheers and Hill St. Blues. Those were really good memories of female bonding as well, and I feel really fortunate to have that feeling of bonding again with my own daughter. Yes, even a silly tv show can bring us together with the ones we love, and I'll take bonding wherever I can get it.
Friday, October 5, 2007
OMG! Where Are Your Pants?
I'm a very sentimental person which is why I have a drawer full of random notes and such, mostly from the kids, that I keep.
One of these treasures is a simple note from Sis, written when she was in middle school. Every time I read it, it makes me chuckle. Here's the background:
I had purchased a long-sleeved Roxy brand shirt that was popular at that time, and Sis was after me to let her wear it to school the next day, but since the weather was quite warm, I told her no, that she would be too warm in long sleeves.
Mike used to let me sleep in since I was up during the night with Baby Nat at the time, and he would take the kids to the bus stop in the mornings. So on this particular morning I woke up to a note on my dresser that read (and I resisted correcting the spelling):
One of these treasures is a simple note from Sis, written when she was in middle school. Every time I read it, it makes me chuckle. Here's the background:
I had purchased a long-sleeved Roxy brand shirt that was popular at that time, and Sis was after me to let her wear it to school the next day, but since the weather was quite warm, I told her no, that she would be too warm in long sleeves.
Mike used to let me sleep in since I was up during the night with Baby Nat at the time, and he would take the kids to the bus stop in the mornings. So on this particular morning I woke up to a note on my dresser that read (and I resisted correcting the spelling):
"Mom, I borrowed your roxy shirt. Don't worry I'm not wearing pants. P.S. Cameron is wear all long sleeves today."
I had to laugh at the mental picture this brought to my mind, and my first thought was, "Well now I AM worried because you're not wearing any pants!" Even though I knew what she meant--she was wearing shorts to make up for the fact that she was wearing a shirt that was too warm for the outside temperature. I also appreciated that she tried to shift the focus from the fact that she had snuck into my bedroom while I was asleep and swiped my shirt that I told her she couldn't wear, to her brother who went out the door in long pants AND long sleeves. In her mind that was the true crime committed that morning! Gotta love that kid.
I had to laugh at the mental picture this brought to my mind, and my first thought was, "Well now I AM worried because you're not wearing any pants!" Even though I knew what she meant--she was wearing shorts to make up for the fact that she was wearing a shirt that was too warm for the outside temperature. I also appreciated that she tried to shift the focus from the fact that she had snuck into my bedroom while I was asleep and swiped my shirt that I told her she couldn't wear, to her brother who went out the door in long pants AND long sleeves. In her mind that was the true crime committed that morning! Gotta love that kid.
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