Category Archives: Uncategorized

walking with a limp

Kitchen accidents happen to really good people.

Sometimes chopped fingers end up in deviled eggs or potato salad. 

ImageMy kitchen injury was of a completely different variety. I was discussing the scene where Quasimodo lifts up Esmerelda up over his shoulders in The Hunchback of Notre Dame with my wee sister. I opened a cupboard and dropped two glass measuring cups on my big toe. The conversation changed from hunchback heroics to Lizzie hearing many expletives. 

It hurt and no one will be kissing my toes to make it better. 

So now I walk in discomfort and will not be putting any ski boot on this right foot of mine. It will be orthopedic zappados and a prayer that my toe nail doesn’t fall off in 2013.

 

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wild parsnips and the eating thereof

I have two personal rules that I take very seriously.

1. Do not eat wild parsnips.

2. Do not drive stagecoaches drunk or aggressively.

The people in Death in Yellowstone taught me these maxims, so I didn’t have to learn them the hard way, i.e. death. That is a pretty hard way.

But what happens when you break one of your own commandments, not once but twice in one day? I did not have the opportunity to drive a stagecoach drunk today, and I’m sticking to that one.

I hiked with my most trustworthy and helpful of all neighbors, John. We have lessons in botany  on our rambles across the Alpine tundra. Today, there was much Mountain Parsley there for the picking. I asked somewhat mischievously if you can garnish plants with this yellow flower. John told me no, but you can toss the leaves on a a soup ‘r’ salad. So I picked some and saved them in my pocket for a rainy day. Next were Glacier Lilies, and he told me they are all fructose so eat up.

But here ye, gentle traveler, do not even think about purple flowers. They iz poisonous. Purple for poisonous, ‘member this. You ‘member?

I put the parsley in my tuna. I put lilly in my iced tea!

So I guess it brings it back to the most important #1 rule – do something that scares you everyday. And good luck to me in avoiding death. I guess otherwise my head stone will read “Shouldn’t of Eaten the Wild Parsnips.”

 

 

 

 

 

learning lessons

Outside the window pane is a man in a baseball cap trying to mail a letter to his mother. There is a shiny blue official mailbox there, just ready to scoop up letters and get them to their respective recipients. To get to this point of standing in front of the official USPS box, the scruffy man must have had to search high and low to find an envelope and stamp. Mailing supplies aren’t lying around like they used to. He then had to seal the envelope with an ack licking of a stamp. There is no worse taste than the adhesive on a stamp.

And finally he had to walk across the street to get to the box. Inside, we are at work observing this series of events unfold. He is taking a long time out front, having a lot of difficulties dropping the letter in the box. He seems to not understand how to open it. Smirk. It’s really as simple as 1.2.3. Pull handle back. Opening will emerge. Drop letter in. He continues to fiddle with the elusive mail drop off. Finally he leaves in frustration. I grin at his perceived dimwittedness. I know him, which makes it even more funny. I go back to work.

I forgot about this situation UNTIL the following week. I also wanted to mail something. I open up the mailbox and no opening emergeth. I scratch my head, and then see that the drop has been sealed off!

So in conclusion, I learned do not JUDGE THOSE THAT CANNOT OPEN MAILBOXES. And it probs would have been nicer to help the down and out.

packing

In high school, my career aptitude test said that I belong in shipping and handling. That was weird, but not as weird as Lisa’s, who is supposed to be an ATM repair woman. She just hasn’t followed her calling quite yet. Lisa – it is God’s Will. Just give in already.

I’m no postwoman or scanner of barcodes at Fedex. So instead of shipping, I like more of the whole decoration of packages. Below is my gift to my baby sister wrapped in a Sky Mall magazine.

And when shipping boots, I like to draw robots all over the box to give it that electric boogy woogy.

So just like anything, add flair. And trust career aptitude testing.

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martin luther king jr.

It’s MLK day! And it turns out there is more to be happy about than a three day weekend. The man behind the holiday is one of the most phenomenal people of the previous century. I don’t feel like I have the words or prestige to even talk about this hombre bueno. I admire him so much for his bravery, his revolution, his legacy.

I really like to remember this day by watching his I Have a Dream Speech. It gives me the willies and the goosebumps down my spine. I like to do this eating chicken wings. Kang and Wangs (my friend Julia’s most oustanding birthday theme party). This song came up on my iTunes, and I don’t know if meager people like myself are allowed to dedicate songs to Martin Luther King Jr, but that’s what I want to do today.
But first in his own perfect words-

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

So by damn, gimme some lovin. And no we haven’t made it, but we’re making it.

caroline “photogenica” singleton

I have a reputation that precedes myself as as quite the looker in identification photos. Many a times, I’ve been pulled over and the cop looks down at my drivers’ license and with a cock of his head he says “Damn, damn, damn.” This is obviously a testament of what I already know. They just can’t resist that mean mugging look. Here is an assemblage of my best and brightest photos. Wink. ooty. ooty. oink.

It’s easy to look this good by abiding by a few simple rules. Don’t smile; it is for suckers. Put your hair behind your back for that more heroic oaf vibey.

disney land

Disney Land located in Magic Kingdom, United States.

Things to know about Micky and Minnie’s Playground is there are A LOT of people milling about, from all walks of life. Couples argue. Children look on in awe at souvenir shops and lollipops as big as their heads. Alice and the Mad Hatter prance around teacups. Goofie does synchronized dancing with firemen that play saxophones. There’s just a lot going on in general.

Here, Sleeping Beauty and her prince live in a fairy castle. Please notice the Prince’s 1990s Hugh Grant sort of hair do. I love a good pompadour on a man.

I was privy to go along with Mr. Toad on his Wild Ride. That majestic peak in the back is the Matterhorn.

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chirp.chirp.chew.chew.

I want to make it very clear that this story isn’t my idea. I’m pretty much plagiarizing it from my little sister’s original work from when she was about 7 years old. But the story is too good not to try to bring back like Footloose or Transformers. So here from my good heart is an attempt to rewrite a classic.

There was a homeless man that sat in front of a grocery store all the live long day. He looked down under his camouflage hunting hat with big fuzzy ears. The fuzz had grown threadbare. Spending many a night in bus stops or neighborhood sheds, his other clothes had holes and rips. He pushed up the sleeves of his fraying flannel and kept looking down at the sidewalk. He also had the misfortune of having bursted blood vessels in his eyes.

The man’s name was Fitzhenry. He hadn’t made the best of decisions to get to this point of living on the streets. But he was kind, easily influenced and was not the best at keeping up relationships with family or friends.

He didn’t like the idea of feeding birds or providing them baths. He thought about how no one was inviting him to bathe publicly in their backyard or watch him eat. As a matter of fact, he was very much in need of a shower which could always be put off. But he was hungry. He only liked sweet things (ding dongs, snowballs, or any other product signed by Little Debbie herself).  This would later prove to be diabetes-causing.

The grocery store was of the typical Middle American shopping center variety. It did not support vagrancy by any means, but as members of the large corporation, and making few monies, they didn’t care to enforce policies. The workers at the grocery were too busy on their break blowing bubbles of gum or puffing on cigarettes to notice Fitzhenry’s loitering.

So Fitzhenry had a lot of time to perch on the benches around the automatic opening doors of the super market. Mothers guarded their children from looking at the bedraggled man. He needed help but did not know how to go about asking for it. See, he played no instruments. The answer was not a simple strum of the gee-tar and an opened case that doubled as a collection jar. He had no permanent marker to write out a sign. To make matters worse, he was ashamed of his poor spelling skills. His inability to spell the word “banana” at the spelling bee in elementary school and the following public disgrace, made him blush to this day.

Shy men were not meant to be beggars. Shy men had trouble getting jobs and dates and noticed.

The grocery store had a line of quarter machines out front, including the quarter fed machines that let children ride a small horse accompanied by aggravating circus music.  The pony machine was not very popular minus one Asian tot with dimples and an excitable demeanor.

The little called herself Libby. Very passionate for such a small child, she particularly liked dogs, insects, and cheetah print. Her mother gave her a quarter every time they went grocery shopping. It was up to Libby’s discretion whether she would like to use the silver piece for Mike and Ikes, Chickletts, a ride on the wild side (i.e. the toddler pony ride.) Perhaps, a striking silver necklace made out of metal that would surely leave a stain, would suit her fancy. If her mother was feeling extra generous with the quarters, she might try for a stuffed animal from the metal arm and claw that descends into the depths of plush animals.

Libby held on tight to her mom’s hand as they walked through the parking lot towards the carts in the front of the store.

Fitzhenry met Libby’s teak colored eyes. She smiled shyly at him, looked away, but kept looking back to study the man.

“Mom, why is that man so dirty?”
“He doesn’t have a job.”
“He looks skinny.”
“Drugs will do that.”
“Why does he take drugs?”
“He probably isn’t very smart.”

 

Libby was not happy with her mother’s answers and thought deeply about the homeless man next to the gumball machine. She had heard about the wild world of drugs and the correlating downward spiral. She considered not having any parents to give quarters every once in awhile for candy.

Her mother, like clock work, gave her a quarter to go get a treat. Shyly approaching the candy dispensary, she held her quarter tight and made way towards the large gumball machine, where the colorful ball must make its way down a long clear slide adding for extra enjoyment. The gumball seemed to be set in slow motion as it made its way down to the bottom. She grabbed the treat and bravely approach Fitzhenry with the bon bon.

Libby stuck out her open hand to the down-on-his-luck man.

Fitzhenry obliged, opened his mouth, put in the large gumball and chewed.

He rubbed his belly and for the first time in a long time, he had hope.

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keeping privates private

I was beside myself with joy getting ready for my official First Aid CPR course. With great pride, I wore my Sunday’s best – tights, sweater dress, and billowing scarf. I should have sensed something twas up when my coworkers begrudged me for getting dolled up for a course in the thematics of blowing down the airways of the unconscious.

Our instructor was burly with curly hairs cascading down his neck. He swore a lot and told us just the most yadorable stories about his children.

I want to make it very clear that he provided no snacks, no refreshments, nor playdough for those of us with paying attention problems. However, he did bring a long numerous dummies, many of them strange robotic babies made of silver plastic.

I minded my own business except for asking to borrow pens from the other scholars at my table. I was not being a menace of any sort. To my dismay, teacher begged for a volunteer to demonstrate a fancy-saving-life-move to the class. I did not subject myself this. Rather my fellow medical students chanted my name. The instructor told the rest of the class to get up, stretch, and then gather round to watch.  I laid down on the carpet in front of the entire class, submitting to peer pressure as always.

Mr. Instructor then rolls me over in my dress which is bad enough. (This whole idea is to demonstrate what to do with folks that are on the ground unconscious and simultaneously might aspirate.) Then he started to spread my legs to make a kick stand so I don’t fall into my theoretical pile of vomit. Obviously, I resist this positioning of my legs. If there is one lesson that follows a lass from childhood is that little girls must now show their panties. It is tasteless, uncivilized, and lascivious. My insensitive First Aid teacher told me to stop moving around and asked me what exactly I thought I was doing. Sorry I don’t want to show my hoo haa to the general public.

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beckwith pass

Camera was acting wonky on this day. Therefore, I did not capture any of that foliage of fall. But we got pics of the boys, Judgey, and the original bulldog Twinks. Martin went in for the real thing with Twinkieberry.