knobby knees, liquid nitrogen, and Mercurochrome’s axe murderer effect

I don’t mean to brag (of course I do), but I just may have the knobbiest knees on the planet.  In our hemisphere, for sure.  I’m a mortal lock for Top Ten.  My knees have their own topography.

Other girls aspired to be student council president or on the homecoming court; I dreamed of wearing a short skirt without knocking bony knees against single end table corner.  You can guess which of those dreams was more likely to come true.  (I’ll give you a hint: I doubt I went more than a month my entire childhood without bangs and bruises.)

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ice cream nirvana in a winter wonderland

Senior year of high school brought what was arguably the yummiest job opportunity I’ve ever had.  I know that may sound confusing after my ode to movie popcorn, but at seventeen I reached the pinnacle of food service employment.

I bow down to the true kings of indulgence.

Ben and Jerry.

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damn that overbite

I desperately wanted to play the flute in middle school.

I leapt at the chance to learn this beautiful instrument when the band teacher let us choose what we wanted.  Flutes are so graceful, so delicate and elegant…I really wanted to be that girl. The one who sat demurely in the front row, ankles crossed, while notes danced out across the audience.

Hey, you – the one snickering at “demurely” – I see you.

Alas, earning the title of talented flutist (flautist?) was not meant to be.

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when we know better, we do better

I talk a good game when it comes to anger.  When I see injustice, big or small, I’ve been known to throw a rant or two.  Sometimes the rant is loud and rambly, sometimes it’s furious scribbling, and sometimes it’s outraged pounding on my keyboard until a post appears.

Plus I’m all about the feelings with the kids – you need to share your feelings, you can’t expect anything different if you don’t say you want it, find your power and set your boundaries.  Encouraging them to be true to themselves.  To be strong and stand up for themselves because they are their best advocates.

Sheesh, what a hypocrite.

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that good old W2

I might be in my forties, but I’m hip.  I’m fly.  I’m on point when it comes to what is and isn’t trending.  (I published my #squadgoals already, right?)

Which is how I know Twitter recently lit up with #7jobs.

I had to kind of squint a bit – I mean, it’s been quite a few years since my first paying job (though it might not have involved a W2) – but eventually I figured it out.

babysitter (I can’t believe anyone trusted me with their kids that young)
Baskin Robbins
movie theater (concessions and box office)
Ben and Jerry’s (see a theme?)
camera shop/Hallmark store
summer camp counselor

Oh, the stories I could tell about each and every one of these (along with the dozen or so that followed), but today?  Today we’ll focus on the magic of the movie theater.

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SoCS – drink

It’s that time again.  The moment you decide if you’re going to read my thoughts as they spill onto the paper (screen) willy nilly in an unscrew your neurotic edit function and write exercise.

If you’re staying, welcome aboard.  If you’re passing, I totally understand.  Check back tomorrow for a (hopefully) more structured post.

This week’s prompt is “drink,” either noun or verb.  Huh.  This is where stream of consciousness writing can get me in trouble.  You can find complete details about these posts on Linda’s blog here.

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on Sundays!

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365 days in an alternate universe

I’ve never claimed an allegiance to any particular part of the country.  I don’t sound like a local, well, anywhere, so the question of where I’m from is inevitable.  If I’m feeling spunky I might toss out someplace obscure like Omaha, but mostly I respond with a shrug and the short but sweet “I’m a Navy brat, so pretty much everywhere.”

navy ships

Can one be from everywhere?  Or does that really mean I’m not from anywhere at all?  Sounds like an existential question to me.

At any rate, I spent the majority of my formative years in three locations: northern Virginia, New Jersey, and Virginia Beach.  While these areas weren’t exactly identical they did have a lot in common, giving me thirteen years of continuity (if you can call three moves in K-11 feeling stable).  Moving from the familiar comfort of these relatively similar areas to a tiny New England town for my senior year was akin to being dropped into a dunking booth filled with ice water.

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Words Crush Wednesday – outside of time

“To the outside world, we all grow old.  But not to brothers and sisters.  We know each other as we always were.  We know each other’s hearts.  We share private family jokes.  We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys.  We live outside the touch of time.”

– Clara Ortega


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Words Crush Wednesday Challenge