Is Gingham the Print of the Summer?
-
[image: gingham doen shirt top]
This past weekend, Freddie and I sat in the park and played cards. The game
was fun, but you know what was even more comp...
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Petsi Pies
Long, long ago during the Christmas season, we entered a raffle and won a gift certificate to Petsi Pies. Flash forward to this weekend, when we finally adventure over to spend our $20. We were immediately excited upon seeing a window covered in paper pies! Delicious and crafty, the story of my life!
Then inside, we enjoyed staring through the cases to see delicious treats!
With our $20 gift certificate (and additonal $2 and some change) we purchased:
Mississippi Mud Pie $7: delicious and chocolately--good hot and cold.
Spinach Ricotta mini-pie $4.95: Underwhelming
Veggie Pie $4.95: Good enough
and 2 Red Velvet Cupcakes: $2.50 each: delicious. But when is Red Velvet not good? The frosting was the best part.
All in all we were impressed by the decor and feel of Petsi Pies...but not jumping out of our britches for the treats. But I'd go again until I tried everything on the menu.
Then inside, we enjoyed staring through the cases to see delicious treats!
With our $20 gift certificate (and additonal $2 and some change) we purchased:Mississippi Mud Pie $7: delicious and chocolately--good hot and cold.
Spinach Ricotta mini-pie $4.95: Underwhelming
Veggie Pie $4.95: Good enough
and 2 Red Velvet Cupcakes: $2.50 each: delicious. But when is Red Velvet not good? The frosting was the best part.
All in all we were impressed by the decor and feel of Petsi Pies...but not jumping out of our britches for the treats. But I'd go again until I tried everything on the menu.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Why I love being crazy and why I love crazy people
I have come to the conclusion that I am not a normal person. I don't know if crazy is the politically correct term to use, but for my purposes I am crazy. I am crazy because I have decided to stop behaving in public how I am expected to behave. I love being crazy and I love crazy people and here are my reasons why.
1. Crazy people have more fun - Once you stop caring about what other people think, you can do all the things you never did because you didn't want to embarrass yourself.
2. Crazy people are entertaining - For all of you people on the subway who choose to ignore crazy people, I have one thing to say to you, STOP. Since embracing my crazy side I seem to attract crazy peoples attention, and let me just say, they are awesome! Talking to a crazy lady on the subway about her hat and how people are staring at her was hilarious and way better than trying to avoid eye contact with everyone else on the train.
3. Crazy people have a greater capacity for random acts of kindness - I am not chalking this one up to my own behavior but rather observation and personal experience. It takes a certain amount of craziness for a person to be willing to step outside there comfort zone and do something kind/generous/ giving etc for a complete stranger. There is a certain vulnerability there that seem to coincide with craziness. On the train the other day a girl walked up to me and handed me a card that said "Happy Holidays. Peace and Love." and just walked away. This made my day!
So in conclusion, next time you hear someone talking to themselves on the train, or see a man running down the street wearing a purple top hat with his coat tales flapping in the wind (think Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - I did happen to witness this the other day) before you try to ignore/avoid/look down on these people try to appreciate them for one or all of the reasons above. And if you are ever on the train and you see a weirdo girl, you never know it might just be me!
1. Crazy people have more fun - Once you stop caring about what other people think, you can do all the things you never did because you didn't want to embarrass yourself.
2. Crazy people are entertaining - For all of you people on the subway who choose to ignore crazy people, I have one thing to say to you, STOP. Since embracing my crazy side I seem to attract crazy peoples attention, and let me just say, they are awesome! Talking to a crazy lady on the subway about her hat and how people are staring at her was hilarious and way better than trying to avoid eye contact with everyone else on the train.
3. Crazy people have a greater capacity for random acts of kindness - I am not chalking this one up to my own behavior but rather observation and personal experience. It takes a certain amount of craziness for a person to be willing to step outside there comfort zone and do something kind/generous/ giving etc for a complete stranger. There is a certain vulnerability there that seem to coincide with craziness. On the train the other day a girl walked up to me and handed me a card that said "Happy Holidays. Peace and Love." and just walked away. This made my day!
So in conclusion, next time you hear someone talking to themselves on the train, or see a man running down the street wearing a purple top hat with his coat tales flapping in the wind (think Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - I did happen to witness this the other day) before you try to ignore/avoid/look down on these people try to appreciate them for one or all of the reasons above. And if you are ever on the train and you see a weirdo girl, you never know it might just be me!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Crayons and math
Apparently, the number of colors in a Crayola crayon box (yes, I still have my 64 color box in almost mint-condition for rainy days) doubles every 28 years--and there it is, Crayola's Law. No longer is my box of 64 up to date (although in the hipster world, I assume it's still top-notch). But come 2050, with my coloring book ready, you can count on it that I will buy that box of 330 colors.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Train Ride/ Adopted Family
I took the train to work, as I do most days, and today I settled down in my seat with a new book. One stop, two stops down the line, I'm still enjoying myself when I hear, "JESSIE!" in a small, high pitched voice. I look up to see S. [names have been hidden to protect the innocent] (age 4) barreling down the train aisle, and jumping in my lap. I thought she was alone! It took a minute of a lap-sitting hug for me to wrestle a look to see her father trying to catch up to her. When dad finally arrives she bounds off my lap and screams, "I won't sit with you, you do not have a window seat!" and barrels down to the back of the train. Apparently she finds a window seat, because I hear my name called from behind, and turn to see her pigtailed head and waving hand above all the other commuters. I'm glad she's found a window seat, where her father can block her in.
Then my stop, I get off and walk a few feet, contemplating whether or not to wait for S. and dad or not. I choose a slow pace. They come out the door on the other side in a matter of seconds. The little cheetah again tumbling towards me, runs into my leg and grabs my hand as she does everyday on the playground. And then dad catches up. She grabs his hand. And here we are, me, child, dad holding hands in a row. And I think, well, isn't this interesting, and hope she'll drop my hand sooner rather than later, instead of dropping her father's. We begin the 7 minute or so walk (more like ten with a four year old) up hill to school.
After crossing the road in front of the line of cars stopped at the train tracks, I stopped feeling awkward about our happy little family walking down the street, because, to them, I'm sure that's what we were, and start fantasizing about what it might be like to really be this family. Conversation was pleasant, child driven, and it wasn't too cold, so it was an enjoyable walk. And for a little bit, I enjoyed my stop into family life. But I won't be doing it again soon.
Get to work, and S. has already announce to the room that she got to ride the train with me and walk with me to school. How do I know? Another kid approached me and asked if they could walk to school with me someday. We'll see...I rather enjoy my sustained silent reading time on the train.
Then my stop, I get off and walk a few feet, contemplating whether or not to wait for S. and dad or not. I choose a slow pace. They come out the door on the other side in a matter of seconds. The little cheetah again tumbling towards me, runs into my leg and grabs my hand as she does everyday on the playground. And then dad catches up. She grabs his hand. And here we are, me, child, dad holding hands in a row. And I think, well, isn't this interesting, and hope she'll drop my hand sooner rather than later, instead of dropping her father's. We begin the 7 minute or so walk (more like ten with a four year old) up hill to school.
After crossing the road in front of the line of cars stopped at the train tracks, I stopped feeling awkward about our happy little family walking down the street, because, to them, I'm sure that's what we were, and start fantasizing about what it might be like to really be this family. Conversation was pleasant, child driven, and it wasn't too cold, so it was an enjoyable walk. And for a little bit, I enjoyed my stop into family life. But I won't be doing it again soon.
Get to work, and S. has already announce to the room that she got to ride the train with me and walk with me to school. How do I know? Another kid approached me and asked if they could walk to school with me someday. We'll see...I rather enjoy my sustained silent reading time on the train.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Bye Creeper
I was sitting on the bus today on my way back from the airport. The guy sitting next to me had a large suitcase, an overly large kelty backpacking pack, and this weirdo man purse. He had a ltitle scruff going on and aviators. Yes he was wearing sunglasses on the bus on a cloudy day. I sat there contemplating his entire waredrobe. Why did he have this ridiculous backpacking bag, he certainly wasnt hiking any mountains in his converse that were missing the laces. He sat there looking too cool for school when I reailzed, he was probably thinking the same thing about me. Here I was. Leaving the airport with no luggage, holes in my jeans, and on top of all of that I was knitting. WTF? I guess we're all creepers.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Happy Cranes
Paper cranes make me happy. And why shouldn't they, 1000 cranes= peace. The crane is also a symbol of honor and loyalty in Japanese culture. But on a more personal level, paper cranes make me happy. Maybe it's because I connect them without not only peace, but summer time, which have always been the happiest times of my life. Why? Well I can pretty much trace it down to a few people, but during one summer in particular (I'm fairly certain it was 2005) I remember learning and then teaching kids how to make cranes. We made 1000 and hung them throughout the dining hall--and they're still there now...even if a few of them have gotten tired and fallen. Then in the summer of 2008 I got a crane hung from a paperclip from a friend--that I immediately hung from my rear view mirror and he's never moved. Then summer 2009 I got a itty bitty baby crane left on my desk by a friend one day. He's so very small. Anyway, I liked him very much but he got lost in the shuffle of my yarn. Flash forward this evening, I was transferring yarn from a too-small container to a lovely basket, when I see a small scrap of white left on the table. I reach, to throw it away of course, and discover he's my baby baby crane. This came on a good day, when I'm feeling a lull and doubting one thing or another, and he made me smile. Now he's sitting next to me as I write. I'm going to tape him to my mirror so he won't run off again. I want to feel this happy everyday.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Our Month in Books
we read. This is what we cozied into bed with this December, and maybe we'll even let you know how we felt about it.
Louise:
Wishin' and Hopin': A Christmas Story by Wally Lamb
Twas the season...My mom had told me this guy has only ever written depressing stuff, so I was skeptical. BUT one day, my faithful NPR told me this book was hilarious...so what the hell. Yes I laughed out loud on my commute to work as a small boy explained how his teacher kept two bottles of perfume in her purse...one called whateveritwas and one called cognac. And later, he didn't understand why his teacher would drink perfume.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Murial Barbery
I stayed amused. It made me think some. I didn't fall in love.
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Why did it take me so long to read this great classic? Me: fail. Sylvia: win.
Savages by Joe Kane
Finally launching me back into my non-fiction kick, a gift from my beloved and partner in crime (see her list next), made me drop the novel by Ralph Nader I had attempted to begin. And happily so. Pretty funny, pretty scary, and pretty moving, this talks about an indigenous group in Ecuador and their struggles with the oil industry.
Thelma:
On the Road by Jack Kerouac
This book came to me by way of a random hookup, and I must say it was as good as the hookup was. For those of you who have yet to experience, On the Road, I must warn you, be ready for a crazy, somewhat unintelligble tale of what it means to be alive. In On The Road, Kerouac recounts his five cross-country trips with his friend Neal Cassidy. Above and beyond what happens on the road, Kerouac gives us a glimpse into post-war America. America is just beginning to come into its own as the largest world superpower and with that comes a redefinition of what defines a fulfilled life. Now I could go on about the meaning of life and blah, blah, blah, but here is what I think. Throughout his book, Kerouac continually refers to finding "it". Finding "it" for Cassidy and himself involved experiencing all that the new America had to offer them. To sloff off the responsibilities of the world and just be. This made me begin thinking about what is our "IT" . What does the generation that has been given everything, and grown up to think that this is ordinary life. Life is no longer an adventure but an extended vacation. Some of us try to reconnect with ourselves through Yoga or meditation.We turn to alternative life styles, that oppose capitalism. But maybe what we all need is our own adventure, our own "on the road." What can we learn about ourselves when we reduce our experience to nothing more than ourselves and the open road.
Louise:
Wishin' and Hopin': A Christmas Story by Wally Lamb
Twas the season...My mom had told me this guy has only ever written depressing stuff, so I was skeptical. BUT one day, my faithful NPR told me this book was hilarious...so what the hell. Yes I laughed out loud on my commute to work as a small boy explained how his teacher kept two bottles of perfume in her purse...one called whateveritwas and one called cognac. And later, he didn't understand why his teacher would drink perfume.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Murial Barbery
I stayed amused. It made me think some. I didn't fall in love.
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Why did it take me so long to read this great classic? Me: fail. Sylvia: win.
Savages by Joe Kane
Finally launching me back into my non-fiction kick, a gift from my beloved and partner in crime (see her list next), made me drop the novel by Ralph Nader I had attempted to begin. And happily so. Pretty funny, pretty scary, and pretty moving, this talks about an indigenous group in Ecuador and their struggles with the oil industry.
Thelma:
On the Road by Jack Kerouac
This book came to me by way of a random hookup, and I must say it was as good as the hookup was. For those of you who have yet to experience, On the Road, I must warn you, be ready for a crazy, somewhat unintelligble tale of what it means to be alive. In On The Road, Kerouac recounts his five cross-country trips with his friend Neal Cassidy. Above and beyond what happens on the road, Kerouac gives us a glimpse into post-war America. America is just beginning to come into its own as the largest world superpower and with that comes a redefinition of what defines a fulfilled life. Now I could go on about the meaning of life and blah, blah, blah, but here is what I think. Throughout his book, Kerouac continually refers to finding "it". Finding "it" for Cassidy and himself involved experiencing all that the new America had to offer them. To sloff off the responsibilities of the world and just be. This made me begin thinking about what is our "IT" . What does the generation that has been given everything, and grown up to think that this is ordinary life. Life is no longer an adventure but an extended vacation. Some of us try to reconnect with ourselves through Yoga or meditation.We turn to alternative life styles, that oppose capitalism. But maybe what we all need is our own adventure, our own "on the road." What can we learn about ourselves when we reduce our experience to nothing more than ourselves and the open road.
life teaching preschool/there are eight (8) planets
This month we're learning about space. I taught the kids about all eight planets. My very excellent mother just showed me eight.... shit. Pluto got plutoed (2006 word of the year as voted by the American Dialect Society) and it's just hard to imagine my solar system without it. But that's not the story. A T.A. was over at the art table making a "space box" basically a diorama with glitter and string and planet awesomeness...anyway. The sun got hung. And mercury. Then comes Venus. Two kids and that T.A. were painting it a lovely shade of brownish-orange when I hear N., age 5, say, "I like Venus because it rhymes with penis."
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Decorations for Dummies
A little while back K. and I went shopping:
4 stretcher bars
1 piece of snazzy fabric
some thumb tacks later
EUREKA: wall art.
4 stretcher bars
1 piece of snazzy fabric
some thumb tacks later
EUREKA: wall art.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Creation Myth/ Love Child
We've been friends a while now. And we were finally ready for our love child; we knew we wanted a blog, but weren't quite sure on a name, and lacked the funds to buy one of those books of baby names. Luckily, we had a fantastic sounding board to bounce ideas off of (each other)...try and follow our thought process:
thelma and louise
sweet and sour
cannolis of heaven
misadventures on hancock
from twelve to twenty
medicated and motivated
too old to be a teenager, too young to be an adult
not girls, not yet women
out of school and into trouble
under paid and unappreciated
you grab the drinks, i'll grab my tankini
young and not so dumb
the misadventures of the twenty somethings
j crew plus puggles
grab and go
gin and tonic
kitschybitchy
educated bitches
smart bitches
smarter than your average bear
best friends forever
best bitches forever
drunk bitches forever
old friends new beginnings
that's tender
chocolate and ginger
flannel and lace
btown bitches
the biggest winner
cajun cheese fries
you're huge
sex and books
sex books and wine: how we live our lives
drink fuck read
how we live our lives
yours mine ours
sassy soul mates
how we live our lives
finding your nemo
saucy soulmates
finding your sexy book
wine, don't whine.
54248
babysitter's club
breakfast sandwiches
breakfast at hancock
breakfast at midnight
frackles
tweedledee and tweedledum
sex and the pretty
thelma and louise
sweet and sour
cannolis of heaven
misadventures on hancock
from twelve to twenty
medicated and motivated
too old to be a teenager, too young to be an adult
not girls, not yet women
out of school and into trouble
under paid and unappreciated
you grab the drinks, i'll grab my tankini
young and not so dumb
the misadventures of the twenty somethings
j crew plus puggles
grab and go
gin and tonic
kitschybitchy
educated bitches
smart bitches
smarter than your average bear
best friends forever
best bitches forever
drunk bitches forever
old friends new beginnings
that's tender
chocolate and ginger
flannel and lace
btown bitches
the biggest winner
cajun cheese fries
you're huge
sex and books
sex books and wine: how we live our lives
drink fuck read
how we live our lives
yours mine ours
sassy soul mates
how we live our lives
finding your nemo
saucy soulmates
finding your sexy book
wine, don't whine.
54248
babysitter's club
breakfast sandwiches
breakfast at hancock
breakfast at midnight
frackles
tweedledee and tweedledum
sex and the pretty
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