People are strange

Greatest Hits : the doors











After a brief lecture about behaving appropriately and to pay attention to our chaperones, we were set loose in the park. In fact, the park, really wasn’t that big, but on a sunny day when everyone else was in school – it was the freedom of heaven.



Natural groups formed and although my clique had four or five girls, I basically hung around with only one: Chris. She was pretty much a wimp of a rider too, so we made our way first to things like the Merry-go-round and Bumper cars, while everyone else headed for the Ferris Wheel and the Roller Coasters. Eventually we made our way there too and through the ever cajoling factor of peer pressure, we rode.


Despite my fears before the ride, none of them were really that bad. I drew the line at the loop coaster, but Chris and I did sit and watch it for hours. We were about half way through the day when we noticed two of our male classmates following us.


Gordon and David. They were an odd couple. Another mismatched pair that were hanging out together by default as neither had anyone else to hang out with. David was new. He’d arrived maybe a month earlier and I had paid little attention. He was a round kid with glasses and that was where my knowledge stopped. Everyone knew Gordon though. We’d grown up with him since kindergarten and he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was a scrawny boy who looked several years younger than our age and he had the brightest red hair anyone had ever seen. When people teased him that he was some kind of imp or leprechaun it was perfectly believable with that hair, his pale skin and face full of freckles.


The boys giggled when we noticed them, gave them that face scrunched up, ‘oh pluuease’ look and walked on. They kept following us though.

Summer 1

My December / Kelly Clarkson










Not only was the end of school in sight, it held promise to be the best end of year, ever. I was an eighth grader. Granted this was not as good as being a Senior, but it was second best.



Like Seniors, eight graders got special trips at the end of the year, special privileges, like no final exams, and special events leading up to a graduation ceremony. Graduation was a week away and I looked longingly at my light blue dress each night.


In fact, I wanted to wear my mother’s evening gown. Hers was a slippery material, with a black skirt and a brightly floral halter top. I saw no problem with the plunging neckline and backless exposure as it had a matching floral jacket. But no matter how I promised the jacket would stay on, the dress was a no go.


What I got was a high collared lacey thing. It was not sexy like my mother’s gown, but I liked it nonetheless. It would do. And besides, on some level, I didn’t care what I wore if it meant graduating and moving on to high school.


It was the morning of one of our school trips. This one was to Riverview Amusement Park, in two days we’d go to Toy Island. Most people were looking forward to that one, but I was looking forward to the Park. I loved amusement parks, even if I was usually too scared to ride anything.


It was a perfect day. Sunny and warm, but not hot. It smelled with the promise of summer and excitement. I was up with the sun. I’d slipped on my jeans and a t-shirt, and pulled my hair back into a pony tail and tied a matching ribbon around it. It would be one day when I knew my mother wouldn’t care that I was wearing jeans. It would have been nice to wear sandals too, but this was an amusement park. I chose the sneakers, but didn’t put on socks.


I stuffed money in my pocket. My favorite necklace went around my neck. It was gold and the charm a small mother of pearl apple. I dabbed my favorite perfume behind my ears and I was ready. I even made it to the bus on time.

Pretending to be bankers

Get Close / Pretenders











I get my bank statement, which I balance immediately to the penny, and I note I have written a check for 65.08 to the town tax collector. There is a photo stat copy of the check in which the amount - in both places is very, very clear. Yet, my bank has deducted only 65.00.


Now, not that I mind making 8 cents, but this IS the tax collector and I do not want to pay 300.00 for an 8 cent deficit.  Not to mention the principle of the thing.  I screw up, the bank charges me a lot.
 
So I go into the bank, statement in hand.  I explain the problem, though it would seem to me to be obvious.  The woman, who's desk tells me she is the assistant manager blinks at me and finally says, so... what do you want us to do?
 
I blink at her.  Excuse me?
 
She then says, you want us to take the 8 cents from you account and give it to the tax collector?
 
Yes, I answser.  I wrote a check for the amount I want them to have, you didn't give it to them.
 
Oh.  She says and then tells me she has "to see."   I wait while she calls, she chats and then gets off the phone to tell me they can't do it.
 
What? I say.  Well, the 'mistake' is less than $25.00 so they won't fix it.  I am instantly upset. She suggests I can go to the tax collector and talk to them if I want.
 
I say, this is YOUR mistake.  She tells me if I don't want to go to the tax collector I could write them another check for .08.  I clarify - does she really mean to tell me that the bank screwed up and because they didn't screw up BIG enough, that I need to chase around and clean up THEIR mess?  Well... she says nothing, because, yes, that IS what she is saying.
 
I took my statement back and told her I'd be back to close out my accounts.  The matress is looking better all the time.

Day by Day

Godspell










I know, I have missed yesterday.. and while I have nothing to say and still do not, I am appropriately mad at myself for not saying something.



Now, I have the dilemma: do I not post at all, since I am not saying anything worth while? Or do I post simply for the sake of posting and writing words on the page? Tough call.

This mirrors the same questions that I have been struggling with for the past month. Why do I write? Why do I want to write? What do I want to write about? The problem here is that I don’t know.


I am fairly certain I do want to still write. And right now, what I really want to write is non-fiction, but that…well, is boring, is it not? I would like a passion to write about. An obsession. In fact, I have always wanted an obsession. Some topic or thing I was so excited about I collected, cultivated, wrapped myself up in.

There are things I like – many of them: topics, shapes, but something that I wanted to so deeply embed my self in that it was consuming? Not so much. The closest thing I’ve come across is food. But what can I say about that? Being a food writer certainly sounds grand, but to do that one must have a wide array of places to write about and the truth of the matter is, I don’t get out enough.

So, the quest continues.

Not the Beatles

Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band











okay, I'm writing out of sheer stubborness and guilt.  I have nothing to say and I have delved into vynal.  I don't know if this album is even made on CD.  I hadn't thought of it  in years, but it came before me today.

Those who know me, know I dislike the Beatles.  I don't mind some of their music, but... 

I think some of my dislike was that when in junior high my then best friend adored them.  She had ever album.  We went to see Beatlemania together and yes, we saw this movie.  It was a really dumb movie.  But the soundtrack is okay.  Which is not to say great, but okay.

So.... this is what 2011 has become.  Nothing to say and old not so great music.  I suppose, this means it can only go up from here.

Airplane Man

UP / R.E.M.











Happy New Year.  I still have nothing to say.  But, guilt has not allowed me to not post.  We've been away for a few days, and I have been listening to family stories.

I think I am almost ready to start actually writing again.  I am, once again, feeling like I am on the verge of that Eureka moment.  I am hoping 2011 is the year.

200!

Genesis Live : The way we walk










Two hundred post!  Who would have thought we'd make it this long?

I thought it only fitting to post here one of my most favorite albums - favorite bands.  We saw them in concert once - sitting up so we could touch the roof of the stadium.  But they were fantastic.  It was a reunion tour with Phil Collins, absolutely amazing.

I have to credit the first beau with this one.  He was otherwise a complete jerk, but he did introduce me to this band and it my fandom has lasted over many years.

Sadly, though - despite post 200 and a great album... I still am slogging through my writers block and self questioning.  In other words - I've nothing to say.