July 5, 2003
Ditzy Hood Ornament
Considering that I worked a double shift today, I had a really good day.
My morning was not so great. As I sort of predicted, I was not able to get into the place I needed to so I was not able to clock in or get a key until one of the pool guys came. He seemed to get a big kick out of my gratitude to him for having a key to the precious pool office. On a Saturday morning, a man with a pool office key is a man that I want to see.
Until he came I was running around the parking lot trying to find every key I could to test in the door, though have no fear, none of them worked. I also donated a significant portion of my run around to cursing my bosses for their ignorance and cursing myself for not pointing out the fact that I knew I would not be able to get in.
When I do not have real things to be stressed about or I do not want to worry about real issues, it is very easy for me to toss myself into a frenzy of worry over little things. Worst case scenario, someone with a key would have eventually shown up. My managers would not appear until significantly later because they actually get to sleep in Saturday mornings and see what eight a.m. looks like beneath their eyelids.
I should not complain, though, because I have several friends in the breakfast serving trade that end up having to look out on hours of the morning that should only be seen from a bedroom window or as one is returning from a late night out. This implies that I have late nights out, which I do not. At nearly eighteen, I live a very Amish and sheltered life when it comes to what hours I get to see from outside my house.
No matter.
Without meaning to I am realizing that I give off the impression of being a little ball of anger. I get upset and outraged about things all the time, but usually it is over abstract ideas. Sometimes, often, people, but it passes fairly quickly. Today I noticed it a lot, especially when I was not asked if doing something would bother me but rather would it piss me off. Does that seem like a big leap for anyone? I guess my point is I have a wide range of emotions and while my temper can be quick, sometimes it wavers or stays at minorly annoyed or perturbed or purely indifferent.
I may dislike something, but that does not mean I will be declaring war on it anytime soon. I probably just need to watch my words more because I fear I am being taken too literally. Sometimes I say something that I know I am kidding about or just exaggerating to feel a sense of drama for five minutes or so, but my communication skills must be off because that lighter tone to my occasionally coarse words is too often missed.
Last night it was quite stormy out so our local fireworks were cancelled and rescheduled. I returned from them fairly recently. The excitement for the evening was not in the fireworks themselves but snacking on the wonderful food that Elizabeth brought (many gold stars for her) and having a rumble of sorts with some people nearby.
Christian and the other people each brought illegal firework fun. Christian was very psyched about what he had to offer and started lighting things, but as soon as the first thing he lit was done, the group next to us lit something much bigger and louder. So for the rest of the show we kind of took turns seeing who could make the air more smoky. At one point one of the guys was extremely generous when he saw my efforts to light a roman candle were unsuccessful if not downright pathetic at best. He reshaped the tip and handed the lighter to Christian and poof! Mini light show!
The good news is there were no forest fires as a result of our shenanigans. There were concerns that there would be, but not even one leaf was singed for our tom foolery. Enough fun with adjectives.
My other highlight was driving Christian's mom's car for a whopping three or four feet. Elizabeth wanted Christian to back his car up but he did not want to do it himself so I offered to do it for him. God knows why, I have a big fear of driving other people's cars. Too many things can go wrong and I am just happier driving my own little car if I have to drive at all. Lately I have been bumming rides quite a bit, summer laziness must have set in.
First I unlocked the car incorrectly and off went the car alarm. Whoops. What I find strange is that I did not turn beet red and extremely embarassed over my mistake like I normally do.
I believe my next problem was moving the seat to a place that would allow me to reach the pedals. There was a good deal of pulling myself forward and sliding back and laughing. The sparkler smoke must have gone straight to my head.
Then, whoops, the emergency break was on. I never put mine on and with all the attention on me driving (one, two, four people tops watching) I decided it would just be easier for Christian to fix the problem.
The windshield wipers went on too and I did not know how to turn them off, but I decided that was low on the totem poll of concerns so I watched them continue to sweep away any dust particles that might have somehow managed to drift on his windshield.
At about two feet back Christian was making fun of me and how I had managed to have so many things go wrong for such a simple task. I was laughing so much I had to stop, then I went two more feet and was not able to get out the keys, so Christian saved the day again.
Obviously it would have just been simpler for him to move the car himself. Ah well, he learned his lesson. I have no idea why I was such a ditz about the whole thing.
For the rest of the night I sat on the hood of his car watching the fireworks that the whole neighborhood was enjoying and the stuff set off by the people around us. There is something magic about sitting on someone's hood and acting as a hood ornament. For whatever reason, it is an extraordinarily comfortable place to be.
I feel like doing the Friday Fiveon today, a Saturday. I do not think I have done it before, though I used to do hump day for a while.
1. What were your favorite childhood stories?
I remember reading a lot of fairytales and the Chicken Little Story. As I got older I really loved Matilda and all other books by Roald Dahl. My mom always loved to read me this one getting ready to go to bed book even though I thought the illustrations were a tad creepy at times. Later on I tried to donate it to charity several times but my mom always insisted on keeping it.
The other big thing in my family was my parents would make up stories for me. My mom's classic character was Candy Princess, who was made out of candy and sweet as candy. I cannot remember any of her conflicts, though. I also had a collection of three or four (so I guess it is a bit of a stretch to call it a collection) of Panda bears that my mom would give different voices. My pandas even had their own theme song, called "The Panda Family" that was the exact same tune as the Adam's Family theme song. One of the lines after the finger snaps was "We like to eat!" My dad's best stories featured Nutty (a squirrel) and Ding Dong (a dog), two dumb characters that went on all kinds of hilarious adventures. Later on my best friend at the time, Jessie, and I made our own book of the stories with my writing and her illustrations.
2. What books from your childhood would you like to share with [your] children?
The Giving Tree is definitely a classic. I also love The Polar Express and so many other books. When I was older I discovered The Dumb Bunnies with the help of a friend of mine. As parent, I think I would try to expose my children to as man books as possible (and appropriate) then have fun reading them their favorite ones over and over.
3. Have you re-read any of those childhood stories and been surprised by anything?
I am always struck by how simple the stories are but how they are also at the same time really good. I also grow to have more appreciation for the illustrations. One of my favorite parts of babysitting is reading books to kids but unfortunately it is something I rarely get to do.
4. How old were you when you first learned to read?
What is horrible is that I do not know. My guess would be four or five, I know that I went into school knowing how to read at least a little bit. One of the things I like about my parents is that they have never bragged or tried to be sure that I knew these kinds of details. Maybe knowing when I first learned how to read at my age means more than I think it does, but my instinct says that it does not matter. All that is important is that I know how to now and I love it.
5. Do you remember the first 'grown-up' book you read? How old were you?
My first 'grown-up' book (or what I consider to be grown-up) was Jane Eyre. I started reading it when I was nine years old and got as far as the part to when she discovers that Mr. Rochester has a wife, then my bookmark fell out and I declared it a lost cause. I also read Gone With the Wind at around that time and a similar bookmark incident happened then, though I was extremely relieved in that case because it was an excuse for me to stop. I am one of the only people I know that does not enjoy that book or movie at all, but I am more than ok with that.
Love,
Mandy