Lose the red cowboy hat

Handwritten page of a diary dated December 3, 2002

but people should take pride in their jobs. No matter what.

Almost all of them wear sneakers now, which is not Santa-like at all. Come on. Hardly any of them wear fur around their hats, and most of their tops looks like comfortable robes or track jackets.

I hardly ever talk to any of these types when I see them on the street because I’m afraid I’ll get in a fight and they’ll think they can take me since they’re younger. But today I had to. A red cowboy hat? That will not fly in these parts. I stopped and tried to tell him that in a calm voice and he ignored me. He and his friend (in their hundred dollar sneakers, as if Santa would wear those up in the N.P.) just kept talking between themselves.

So I said louder “if you care about the children at all you will take off that inappropriate head gear OR if you like funny hats, then become a CLOWN.” And that’s when they


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/timailius/2123934901/in/set-72157605127150125/
Published in: on September 30, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (1)  

Should Mom go bungee jumping?

Handwritten page of a diary dated October 2, 1989

so I said “damn it Janet” and my mom said “you say that all day long. Go for a walk”

So I went for a walk and I saw the most bizarre sight ever. A crane was lifting a dummy up in the air, and don’t ask me why because I do not know.

When it got higher it looked more like a real person so when a guy from my school walked by I said, “that’s my mother up there” and he said “NOT” and I said “I’m not kidding you in any way shape or form compadre, that is my ma”

Ha ha ha. He believed it and an older guy walked up and looked too and I said “my ma didn’t know if she’d like bungee jumping or not so she talked that crane guy into letting her be hoisted to get a taste of the dizzying heights” and the stranger laughed but the guy I know said “yeah it’s really his mom”

I yelled “hang in there Ma” and the stranger asked me what’s her first name and I made up the name Mary Lou, so he was yelling “Hang in there Mary Lou” and then a few other people gathered and yelled up to her and I was thinking what a master I am.

But then they started hoisting down the dummy so of course I decided it might be time for me to make myself scarce before they see it wasn’t exactly a human being


Original image: http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/n0RnFCWopL6RvdzcwEmUqQ
Published in: on September 29, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (1)  

Chocolate bunny suit

Handwritten page of a diary dated April 11, 1977

I thought I’d show up and he’d be able to go out discoing with me, like old times.

But it’s Easter tomorrow, he says, which is news to me … but, so what?

He says we have to decorate, which sounds to me like a quick thing, hide a few eggs after his kids go to bed and we’re outa here, right?

His wife comes in with a bunch of brown furry cloth and says she needs more time to sew the duck’s chocolate bunny suit, so she wants us to go out and string the lights. Lights? Is this Xmas? But indeedy, she has a string of lights shaped and colored like Easter eggs and we’re out there in the yard and I say, hey, don’t kids search for eggs in the morning, when the sun’s out? He says, well, they get very excited and they get up early. Barely dawn.

Wait a minute, did she say the chocolate bunny suit is for a duck?


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/birdies100/2580945203/sizes/o/in/photostream/
Published in: on September 28, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (2)  

I hope you’re not too pretty

Handwritten page of a diary dated March 4, 1977

of course I have a picture in my head of what he looks like when he’s writing to me. Beautiful hands, and a pen like the one I used to use in second grade, the kind you have to buy ink cartridges for, and you see the ink sloshing around in there, and you stick it carefully in the pen before you break the little tab, so it’s right in place, and the ink doesn’t spill all over. Only I picture his pen is fancier.

His letters are awfully romantic for somebody who’s never met me in person, and they’re a little bit odd, but L.J. knows him, and vouches that he’s not a serial killer or anything, and honestly, I find myself liking the odd things he says. With some people, you get a letter from them and you can pretty much predict exactly what it’s going to say. But not him. Like the other day he wrote,

“I hope you are not too pretty. I imagine if we ever meet it should be at a truckstop halfway between our towns. Maybe in Rapid City. I picture us getting two motel rooms next door to each other and I would invite you over to watch the black and white TV, but you could leave any time if you felt more comfortable being in your own room. It’s OK if you’re pretty, but I kind of hope you’re not …”


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hi-phi/48771723/
Published in: on September 27, 2010 at 4:30 am  Leave a Comment  

Angel with a sponge mop

Handwritten page of a diary dated April 20, 1982

the three of us were staring up for so long that other people started to gather. Maybe they thought there was something in the sky because most people don’t stare this long at a statue.

I read this out loud from the inscription: “potaverunt me aceto” and one of the Italian guys, Luigi, says it means “they gave me vinegar to drink” which still doesn’t make it make any sense to us. So I tell him we think it looks like the angel is holding a sponge mop. He says he doesn’t know. He just sees the statue every day on his way to work, and never gave it much thought. In Italian, he asks the other people standing there. He tells me someone said it’s a Bible verse. “They gave me vinegar.” It’s in Psalms.

But I ask him to ask them what drinking vinegar has to do with holding a sponge mop. He does. Then he says nobody can explain. But they don’t move along on their way. They just stand there with us staring at the statue.

Then we start talking about food, and Luigi translates for us. Then almost everyone who was standing there ends up eating lunch together at a place nearby.


Original image: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Angel_Ponte_Sant_Angelo_sponge.jpg
Published in: on September 24, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (2)  

What am I?

Handwritten page of a diary dated January 10, 1987

what am I? Chopped liver?”

She ignored my bad mood and said “oh chopped liver, that sounds delicious” but I thought she was kidding.

So tonight I walk in the kitchen and I see her food processor full of chocolate mousse and I get a clean spoon and take a big bite and, well, I’m surprised I didn’t just drop dead because of how much I wanted to die.

Then she walked in and I asked her, what’s in that? She said beef liver. Pork fat. Onions. Butter. Flour. Milk. Eggs.

Chopped liver is something I would not recommend to my worst enemy even if he kidnapped my dog or took me out to the dessert and abandoned me without a drink of water.


Original image: http://in-throat-erator.blogspot.com/2007/12/liver-pt.html
Published in: on September 23, 2010 at 4:30 am  Leave a Comment  

Mermaids are real

Handwritten page of a diary dated October 9, 2008

never believe anything I say. I said I thought mermaids could exist and then I found this photo of a mermaid corpse, so maybe they’ll listen more when I say something.

I still can’t exactly explain how a human respiratory system could breathe underwater all the time. I ordered a book called “How to Breathe Underwater” but it turned out to be a collection of short stories. So I gave it to my aunt for her birthday.

I looked on the internet and found a page that says “what is the human world record for holding their breath underwater the longest?” and someone answered “1 year” so maybe that was written by someone who knows a new breathing secret that could explain it. A hippo can hold his breath for a long time and so can David Blaine.

This is my new favorite song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZLhUik0tSU


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/topgold/2394806951/
Published in: on September 21, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (56)  

Extreme makeover

Handwritten page of a diary dated March 30, 2005

told me I’ve had the same hairstyle for 20 years and I hadn’t even realized it. But damn damn damn. He’s so right. And now all of a sudden, I want a whole new look and I can’t decide what it should be.

I found this pretty radical picture and showed it to people to see if this is the look I should go for. These are the comments I remember:

Roger: Please please do that. Yes. Please.
Grandma: If you dye your hair black, it will never recover. I knew a gal who did it back in the ’50s and her life after that was filled with regret.
Misty: You’ll never figure out how to put on that much makeup. Well, I guess I could show you.
E.J.: Yeah, right.
Aunt Rhonda: Hey where did you get that picture of me? (tee hee)
Bryan: I like it a LOT.
Chad: Me too.
Crystal: Um, what color is the sky on your planet?


Original image: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dominick,_hot_punk_girl.jpg
Published in: on September 20, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (1)  

Deluxe Van Dyke

Handwritten page of a diary dated November 19, 1993

since Dad died. We were looking through a box of his papers (because Sam next door said there was an off chance we’d find something valuable). One thing we did find was this advertisement cut from the newspaper. Turns out that all that Ringo facial hair he had in pictures from the ’70s was probably fake.

To be nice, I said it looked like, instead of just checking one of the color boxes, he must’ve followed the instructions that say “or send a hair sample” because it really matched his hair. Jackie said, yeah, and the guy in the advertisement picture shoulda done that too because he has blonde hair and he glued on the black set. Then she said, “What’s a Van Dyke?” and I told her it’s what Kurt Cobain has on his face and she said, “Oh, a goatee.”

Then she went in her room and turned on her Nirvana tape for the rest of the night. Loud. And Dad wasn’t even there to stop her.


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/30998192@N04/2902014973/
Published in: on September 16, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (1)  

‘Absolutely anything goes’

Handwritten page of a diary dated June 1, 2003

in a new city. I’d been hearing about this parade for months, and everyone said ‘Dress as wild as you possibly can.’  ‘ It’s like Paris in the early 1900s.’ ‘ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING GOES.’

So I did it, I made a costume with big feathers, silver boots, fishnets and not much else.

Turns out ‘anything goes’ was an exaggeration. A GIANT exaggeration. I’ve never been stared at like that. Embarrassment might’ve been the worst part of the day, but oh wait, no, it was being arrested for indecent exposure!!!!!!!!!


Original image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/veganwarrior/2638139903/sizes/o/in/photostream/
Published in: on September 14, 2010 at 4:30 am  Comments (1)