As is the case with most developments in life, new ideas and phases are always initiated by exposure to changes in his or her world and perspective. I could chat about this evolutionary process at length, but let’s cut to the subject at hand which is “A New Venture.” A series of happenings and discoveries in my life in the last…
What happens when school resumes and your long lost students gift you with literary wear? Big smiles about this: Now I’m in a hurry for the Orwell unit. Thanks, my littluns! ***
I encounter an important recurring philosophical question every seven days. It occurs Sunday evenings and persists into the next day: Can Mondays be fun? … … Well. For me it’s a complex issue tied to several influential factors including: a) I hate mornings in general, being a hereditary night owl. (Household competition, “Who will be the last Clark standing tonight???”)…
Long ago, I resigned myself to not being eligible to purchase shoes online because at size 5.5-6, shoes are a) not available or b) inevitably too big, too wide, too bulky anyway. I haven’t quite figured out how photos of shoes online translate to real-life wear apparently. My orders so far have been mainly failed missions resulting in clown feet…
In celebration of this blog’s 1st Birthday and Anniversary, we’re continuing our survey of favorite posts by year. Last week I shared the Best of 2014. After the hustle of the holiday season, January brought not just the turn of a new year, but a maelstrom of busyness and global happenings. Through things serious to silly, we marched across the months toward spring and summer, hopeful despite the complexities of life. In other words, daily existence as usual. Huzzah!
Now, let’s keep this party going, shall we?
1. Say My Name
No, we’re not going to talk about sex in this one. (Disappointing, I know; I just feel like “50 Shades” has done enough…) Instead, this post explores the name “Anika” and its being so “uniqu-a” (I promise I didn’t make that up). Written as a submission to a prompt from Man Repeller, it gave me the opportunity to share this family tale while being egocentric.
[Scene: 1983, a couple sit facing forward, fluffy & fashionable in appearance (hair, clothing)]
“We’re pregnant.” Expressions of surprise and then excitement appear. An absence of birth control has resulted in the materializing of their miraculous firstborn.
“It’s a girl.” Dad’s always wanted a daughter. Mom isn’t sure; her sisters are rather neurotic.
“What should we name her?” A decision that may determine the baby’s destiny… Leafing through a name book is a fine place to start! Wow, there are a lot of names listed under “A” alone…let’s stop here and choose one we’ve never heard before…
“Anika.” Hey, that’s good. We’re good at this.
So Anika I became. Anika Leanna Clark was the full ensemble and soon it became clear that this name not only set me apart in a classroom scenario, but was also in the running for “Most Variedly Pronounced Name Ever.” Ever.
What’s in a name? I don’t know about yours, but here’s all you need to know about mine.
Our little buddies are at it again–this time, making the most of a tough situation. Snookie has caught the seasonal bug going around, Dookie tries to empathize, and a cotton ball becomes a spot-on symbol.
“Whoa! What was that?”
“I just gave you a Double High-Five!”
“How come you didn’t Double High-Five me back?”
“Because I can’t see anything.” Snookie demonstrated this once again by outstretching his arms.
“Weird,” said Dookie, “Why is that?”
“Umm, I think it might be this head cold I have,” Snookie replied helpfully, “I also can’t seem to smell, taste or really hear anything. For example, you sound like you’re super far away, like in a corn field.”
“A corn field. Ok,” Dookie chuckled, “Now that you mention it, I do see that you have a Cotton Ball in place of your usual head.”
About every two weeks (three if you’re the perseverant kind), a critical life choice must be answered: Is it time to go shopping for new clothing or actually do some laundry?
The answer to this predicament lies entirely in the balance of one’s volition vs. laziness. It can also be a great excuse to shop. You know, out of extreme necessity, which no one can really judge you for.
What’s with waiting so long? I haven’t figured this part out yet. Apparently it has something to do with laziness. Inclimate weather doesn’t help either. Even with the four free machines, it’s a squeeze. Our black bin gets positively mountainous due to our inherent love for the hue, with colors, and whites coming in at 2nd and 3rd. There’s actually an extra 4th hamper we’ve employed for rotten athletic clothing. This adjustment was made when I was shuffling through the colors bin one day only to recoil from the damp smell emanating due to Elton’s love (sweat) for the beautiful game (soccer). Of course some of the athletic clothes are mine too, just not the really moist ones.
Four hampers, four washers. No less, no more, cause that’s all that’s available. I think somewhere in the distant past we did laundry once a week. HA. Now it’s do or die–that is, go shopping.
Note: Shopping is not like dying, but it does deplete the dinero.
Note: I deserve it though, for doing all of this damn laundry.
(image not for reprinting or reposting purposes. yikes.)
In a world brimming with chaos, my closet, in like fashion, is pouring out pants. In this post, I reveal a dirty little secret–that I hoard old clothing items for unknown reasons and am trying to reform. Of course, I attempt to connect this situation with the greater truths that finding oneself is hard, aging isn’t fun, and habits are hard to break. How to solve these conundrums???
The other day I was rummaging through the two, red square bins I keep my pants in. All of my pants. In the last weeks, I’ve noticed more and more that pulling these bins out, clawing through them for the obscure ONE pair I want, and shoving them back into the closet has become more troublesome. The bins are bursting and don’t fit quite as easily under my hanging shirt racks as they did before. For a while I didn’t really notice this because I was only wearing the pants on the top of each bin, then somehow they got all mixed up and it’s a mad hunt for THAT pair in there somewhere and then the subsequent squeezing of the bins back into place. It’s almost like the process of squeezing into “pants of ages past” (you know what I mean!), but with the pant bins themselves.
The combination of trying to maneuver them and maintain relative organization in the closet plus the fact that I can’t ever seem to find what I want without dumping out all of the pants led to a realization: I have way too many random pants. The second realization is: They are all dark colors, including multiple pairs of the same pant style in varying degrees of being worn out. Third realization: This is sad.
Purely for selfish purposes I had to choose this post as my favorite for May–My Birthday Excursion! The inclusion of my birthday is really what makes May so good, if I’m honest. It does also contain two other special holidays, my brother’s birthday and mother’s day. If there was one month that should be declared one of jubilee, May is it!
Today, with the help of my fabulous loved ones, I enjoyed the best day of 2015. One’s birthday is already special in general, to be sure, even if celebrated in the generic way. But a day awash with adventure certainly adds some sparkle to the whole package, making the person opening said gift (the birthday itself) exclaim, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is!” It’s always memorable when Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s lines fit the situation perfectly.
My day included:
Shuttling over to an island on a ferry
Strolling around in a gorgeous preserved estate
Strawberries & Cream
Smiles, lots of smiles
Thanks again for the card, Elton.
“The Weekender” is an ongoing series on entertaining weekend happenings and sightings. This particular weekend in June encompasses all that I love about summer: freedom, doodling, cut-offs, and tennis shoes. I also happen to be sitting at the Kirkland Marina Park, so that I’m within view and smelling-distance of the lake and it’s sunny freshness. There also happen to be some wild outfits walking around here to observe! A good day!
As established, miniature things are basically the best. That is, aside from my birthday and these anniversary party posts…superlative much? Yes. Small items are too hard not to resist, so I usually don’t even try. I also have a thing for plants, though my green thumb is suspect. This has encouraged me to seek out plant varieties that give me and themselves a fighting chance of success and survival. Cacti are a great option!
I’ve always been fond of cacti as well–at first as a kid I was drawn to their terrible beauty, the kind that would prick you everywhere if you got too close. When I promised to be careful and not needle my eyes out, my mom allowed me to have a gymnocalycium cultivar–a ruby topped cactus. This species is actually two cacti grafted together. They don’t generally live long–in truth I can’t remember how long mine lasted, but I do remember staring at it on my dresser and then reaching toward it very slowly to touch the spines…
For the very pinnacle of irresistible, enter Mini Cacti!
Now to see what the next year holds… Thank for letting me share some of my favorite posts from year one. I’m looking forward to many more in the future. Life usually gives one adequate material, so it’s time to keep exploring, observing, pondering, critiquing, and ultimately, smirking. I hope you’ll join me!
First there’s this: Raised by Wolves Coaches Coat via Flatspot And there’s this: And then there’s this: This Saturday, there’s just been something about wolves going on… I really want that jacket. Happy Weekend! ***
I’ve had my eye on a selection of Out of Print products for some time now, so I was excited to purchase with no (less?) guilt when the company promoted an all-site 20% sale. Score! Out of Print is a pretty nifty label that “celebrates the world’s great stories through fashion.” Here’s an excerpt from their “Mission and About” page:…
Are you ready for the 4th? Food and drinks bought, maybe a firework hidden here or there, red, white, and blue EVERYWHERE? Yeah, me neither–yet. If you’re like me and still wondering what to wear (a daily dilemma not necessarily tied to the 4th of July in any way), these shirts might just be the thing: HU-RRAH! It’s too late…
Indeed there IS something about Marc that always appeals to me. Maybe it’s his playful design aesthetic, his rejection of gender “rules,” or the fact that he’s one fine looking 52 year old man. Probably all of the above. I was first introduced to Marc’s story through a bio video which I can’t even remember the source of (I’ll have…