Needs More Gingham
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    Friday, November 20, 2009
    Vintage Photo Friday--Sucker for a man in uniform
    Today's (OMG, this is long) post comes with a tale of innocence and chivalry. It was October 1980. Jimmy Carter was barely holding on in the White House. Fifty-three Americans were still being held hostage in Iran. And I was but an innocent girl of 15 (going on 16) who still believed in white knights and Prince Charming, and who apparently thought hair in my face was sexy. My parents had been officially divorced for about a year and my sister's class had just gone off to college. A family friend, Billy, had been accepted at West Point Military Academy and that October his parents invited my mom, sister and me to join them for Parents Weekend. Billy's sisters, Suzi and Debbie, were friends of mine as well, so it was a fun little getaway.

    We arrived on Saturday and Billy was scheduled to take watch that night. While the parents and Debbie, who was a bit younger, stayed back at Cullum Hall, Billy, Kate, Suzi and I headed over to Eisenhower Hall (aka Ike Hall) to find someone to cover Billy's shift for the evening. There was a cafe/ bar at Ike Hall where the cadets congregated. While Billy was busy finding a replacement, Suzi and I were in teenage girl heaven gawking at the fine young specimens of manhood. Suddenly, the lights flickered off and on. Billy told us this was a signal that meant closing time. It was early in the evening, so the cadets were confused, but obediently began making their way to the exits. As we were leaving, two young men ran up to Billy and said, "Excuse me, sir. We couldn't help noticing that you seem to have too many ladies to escort. We would be happy to assist you by escorting these two (indicating Suzi and me)." There was a dance that evening and they asked if we would like to join them. We looked at Billy with what I'm sure were pleading eyes, who replied, "We'll have to ask the folks."
    So we did and, naturally, they said yes. Who wouldn't allow their daughter to be escorted by a fine upstanding member of the Corps of Cadets, with their strict rules about public displays of affection and their tradition of gentlemanly behavior? *cough cough*
    The two plebes were handsome, to be sure, and Suzi and I had noticed them earlier. Suzi had a fondness for the blond, while I found the brown-eyed gent perfectly dreamy. Too bad they didn't see it our way. Oh well. Their choices were made obvious as they took our hands, neatly tucked them into the crook of the elbow, and led us off to the dance--which was a bust. The academy had invited ladies from a nearby women's college* so there were lots of single women and lots of chaperones (not the least of which was my sister who was doing her best to bring the Holy Spirit between me and my date). We headed back to Ike Hall, which hadn't closed early after all. Turns out the cadets just wanted to meet us, knew the guy in charge and asked him to flip the lights so they could have an excuse to escort us somewhere. Awwwww. I know, it got me all kinds of giddy.
    My date, one Phillip Eric Anderson, was from Oklahoma and as sweet as they come. His friends back home called him Sweet Pea because of his initials. Suzi's date, his last name was Wolf, looked like the kind of boy who was up to no good. Public displays are forbidden and cadets are supposed to escort their dates in the traditional crooked arm pose (think wedding cake topper). Punishment for PDAs included marching around the large quad area, called "walking the yard." This did not stop the menfolk from getting a little frisky in the shadows. As we walked across campus, any shady area was an excuse to drop the arm into hand-holding position or to sneak a smooch. My very first real kiss was with my handsome cadet behind a statue of some famous general. Many more followed.
    Curfew came too soon and the cadets brought us back to our parents, who were happily playing cards all night long. Mrs. Kuchinski (Billy's mom) invited the men to join us the next day for a picnic by the river. Suzi's date had to work, but Phil readily agreed. Um....I was kind of hoping he wouldn't. You see, he was cute and all, but even at 15 I had commitment issues and would have been happy to just leave it at that one night. Oh well, it's just an afternoon.
    So, after mass and a champagne breakfast (woo hoo! guess who got a little tipsy?), we drove down to a picnic area by the Hudson River. Phil showed up right on time and he was perfectly adorable. What I really enjoyed about West Point was the respect commanded by just wearing the uniform and the respectful way the cadets treated others. Phil, Debbie and I took a walk up the river and around the campus and everywhere we went, picnickers and hikers said hello; some even invited us to join them. Phil and I held hands whenever we could, which wasn't often but still often enough. At lunch, Phil held my hand under the table, which had my mother in a fit of giggles. Also, he was telling a story about his apartment back home and how he had a "huge 36 inch (pause to swallow) oak table." The pause was too much; I got stuck on the "huge 36 inch" part and giggled, which made my mother kick me under the table. After lunch, we all toured the museum and the library on campus before it was time to say goodbye.

    Dusk was beginning to fall, casting long shadows across the yard. Just before climbing into the car to leave, I leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on Phil's lips in plain view of several officers. I think I was worth a few trips around the quad.

    Epilogue: Phil and I corresponded for a short time until I received a letter from him that was just filled with declarations of true love. Really? You knew me for two days, pal. I wrote back that I was not really looking for that kind of relationship and never heard from him again. Poor Sweet Pea. I broke his heart.

    *Women had only been admitted to West Point for four years at this time and their numbers were still very few, so they still had to import them.



    Thursday, November 19, 2009
    Ferris Wheel of Ick (and other things that are catchy)
    I was sick for pretty much two weeks before the cough finally left. I still had residual scratchiness and my voice was kind of off, but otherwise I felt fine. Others in the office ran the gamut of sickness as well, but as of last Friday, the day before the fundraiser, all were feeling fine. Then, we ran around all day without coats, and while it was warm in the afternoon, by evening it was darn chilly. On Monday, Mirna, who sat next to me all night Saturday, announced she wasn't feeling great. Tuesday, she had a slight cough. Yesterday, she went home early and called back at 4:00 to say she'd be out today. Today, I woke up with a little roughness in swallowing. Drat! Will it never end? Every time I feel better, someone else is sick and spreading their Ick to the whole office.
    I also woke up 15 minutes before I was supposed to be at work, which is 30 minutes away. Uh, I was dressed and out the door in 10 minutes and only slightly late to work, thanks to my extensive use of back roads. Fortunately, one of the gift bag items from Saturday's event was Activate water, which we still have tons of in my office. I grabbed a bottle of Energy (with yerba mate and other fine extracts) and later a bottle of Immunity (with vitamin C, echinacea and zinc). I'm feeling fine now, and hopefully I can continue to ward off the evil spirits.
    Know what else I'm hoping to ward off? Babies! One of our directors has a 3-month old son, and now there are three more women in our office expecting, all just about the same number of weeks along, not to mention a few offsite ladies in the family way. Apparently, pregnancy is contagious. Who knew? Now I know that certain events are necessary to become pregnant (Shut up! It could happen.), but I am not taking any chances and have been careful not to get too close to these gals. Maybe it's something in the water?


    Sunday, November 15, 2009
    Bad merchandising
    This is silly. It's marketed to dogs, but displayed on the top shelf. Well, dogs can't read it from all the way up there.



    Friday, November 13, 2009
    Vintage Photo Friday--I'm tired as all get out, but y'all need to see my unbearable cuteness
    The big, gigantic, pull-our-hair-out-until-it's-over Fundraiser is tomorrow. TOMORROW!! I have to get a mani/pedi in the morning and I was contemplating a haircut but do I have time to run to Studio City and get it done before 1pm? I think not. Hm....

    So, here's some adorable school photos from 1st grade through 5th, and then some additional photos just because. Please note: my 6th grade photo was so horrible as to redefine the very word "horrible." No one shall see it.
    And then we jump to...You've seen it before, but this time in color.

    I spent a lot of contemplative time in my youth. Not that I didn't have friends or like to be with people; I just liked to spend time alone...and apparently on my front porch.

    I'm actually sitting with a spelling workbook. Yeah, it's summer vacation. What of it? I told you I like words. I was probably practicing my penmanship, too. I did a lot of that.
    years later...same porch, still in need of a paint job. I'm playing with a broken car antenna. For some reason, I really liked playing with it. This was back when they still did that telescoping thing.And just because I like this photo of the neighborhood kids. A reporter from the local paper happened by while we were playing a dice game on the front porch. "Take our picture!" we begged. So he did. From left to right: my brother Roy (father to the infamous nephew Roy), my sister, Kate ( in her awkward years), BFF Joann (Lewis) Wallie, Kevin Jones (he lived two doors down), and me, with rare short hair (if I weren't all slouchy, you'd see it's chin length).

    Next week--Teen Angel



    Tuesday, November 10, 2009
    I'm not pretentious. I just really love words.
    I never knew how bothersome my love of the English language could be to others. A friend of mine, who's kind of a math nerd, looked at me today after I pointed out a misused word and said, "and you wonder why I call you pretentious." She has, you know, on several occasions. It's because I draw attention to ads and websites and posters with misspellings, homophones used instead of the intended word, and other grammatical errors. Like a certain hotel chain that offered its executive suites with "sheik decor." I looked at the photos and saw nothing that looked like "Midnight at the Oasis." Or the website that sold a "weaved leather belt" when the correct adjective form is "woven." (weaved being the past tense of weave, as in "She weaved through traffic with the skills of Andretti.") I actually once dreamed of winning a bet on the difference between proved and proven.

    I don't point these things out to be a bitch or to feel better than the rest. It's just that I can't understand sometimes how these mistakes can be made. Don't websites and such have proofreaders? If not, they really should. How can people still say "irregardless"? It doesn't even sound right. I forget that some folks might not have had educational opportunities or that English is their second language* or that they just don't care about grammar (GASP). I'm sorry if you've been bothered by me in the past. I would say I'll try to curb my behavior, but I know it would be a lie. As I read on a T-shirt once "Bad grammar makes me [sic]." **

    At least I've stopped (mostly) correcting people as they speak the way I did when I was much, much younger. The neighborhood kids called me the Department of Corrections. Oh, and "pretentious" isn't really the right word. I think she meant obnoxious.




    *True story--one Halloween I was at work wearing plastic candy corn earrings when my friend Nick came in and said, "Aren't you cute with your candy cones." I said, "It's candy corn, ESL student." I was joking, but turns out English really was his second language (German was his first). His accent was more Hoboken than "Hogan's Heroes" so how was I supposed to know. Although when he was really tired or had been drinking, his W's turned to V's and it was so adorable.

    **Shout out to the Grammar Nerds who got that.


    Saturday, November 07, 2009
    My Farm is possessed
    Facebook users who play with the Farmville will get a kick out of this. Last week, I had a plot of land that was growing things super fast. Like I planted the pumpkins and they were instantly withered. They're supposed to take 8 hours to grow. I plowed them over and planted wheat, a three-day plant. It instantly went to 48% grown. Clearly, that plot was under some evil influences, so I deleted and plowed again. It's fine now.

    So, just now I checked in, you know, to harvest my plants and check on the animals. I was harvesting my squash when all of a sudden, one of the ducks starts walking around. What the? When did the animals start moving on their own? One of my horses then started walking around. Then the chickens got all bunched together and when I clicked on them to collect the eggs it said, "this animal is busy." Doing what, you filthy fowl? All this independent movement has led to some interesting animal placement.What are that sheep and that goat doing, I ask you? It's not natural. Also, please note I'm being attacked by bunnies like "Night of the Lepus."
    Then there were these pigs...I don't want to know.My farm's gone rogue.


    I walked 5 kilometers and lived to tell about it
    Okay, I know, It's like three miles. Big Deal. But I haven't walked three miles at one time since I got a car, and I've been sick all week, so it was a big deal to me. Plus, I walked an additional 7 blocks to the Red Line station and then another 3 blocks from the bus stop at 39th and Hill. Sidebar--I saw this drag queen on the train this morning wearing a dress that looked like a cheerleader outfit, but all black, with arms like a linebacker, hairy legs (dude, at least shave the legs) and a long black weave that he twirled in his fingers like a pretty pretty princess. It was 6:45am.

    I met Liz at Chano's on Fig and we walked over to register. We got our shirts and some free sunscreen from Neutrogena, not that we needed it. Soon our whole team arrived, donned our team shirts, took pictures and got ready to move. Three of the schools we work with had teams of students walking and the kids made these awesome signs to carry. Our kids are the best.

    After a rousing send off from Mark Ridley-Thomas, we were off. I warned the ladies that I would not be power walking today so I brought my iPod in case they left me in the dust. Before we even reached Jefferson, all but Joanne had moved far ahead. Thanks, Joanne, for sticking with me. The route went north on Figueroa, west on Adams, south on Hoover, east on Jefferson, then zigged and zagged inside the USC campus around the museums and back to the Coliseum. Did you know those statues outside are anatomically correct (and he's not Jewish, if you know what I mean)? I never noticed that before. We made it in about an hour and 20 minutes. Unfortunately, it took that long to get out of the parking lot. Joanne was kind enough to give me a ride home, which I appreciated because I had blisters on my heels from my sneakers and my thighs were aching.

    So, I just want to say Thank You again to all my friends who gave so generously for this worthy cause. You helped me exceed my personal goal, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

    Update: My throat is no longer sore and the cough is mostly gone. Walking did me good!