Sitting Still

must remember, part deux

MUST REMEMBER:
take sheet and blanket to school tomorrow.  need house key for babysitter.  what for dinner?  something microwaveable, as usual?  must look in kitchen. e-mail presentation to myself at work.  (why do I e-mail myself?  really? why?)  mail card to Lara.  mail Ron's thank you's.  ("accidentally" lose the ones for Wisconsin.)  get stamps - trip to post office?  Kroger?   USPS.gov?  write out Christmas list.  conner, casie, lavoy, kenyon done.  everyone else SO NOT DONE.  need ideas for in-laws: call Aud and Sha.  e-mail Cori about lunch Friday.  is it possible that my friends in Nashville now fill a whole five fingers?!  wrap Xmas gifts and hide in closet before Claire finds them.  lose weight.  eat less.  cook more.  start running again.  find more hours in the day in which to run.  print out pictures from Claire's entire lifetime.  or at least get them copied onto CD.  write at that other site.  update blogroll.  change header.  laundry, laundry, laundry.  find new black loafers for work.  buy them.  feed fish.  oh lord, how long has it been?  check out yoga class Jamie recommended.  buy yoga pants to wear around house.  stop spending money.  just one more trip to Starbucks, I swear. 

the return of Writing Wednesday: must remember

[Y'all were great sports with that last post!  I still can't believe that Linda didn't take Mindy's dare of "bucket," but maybe your minds aren't as dirty as mine.]

Hold onto your hats!  It's a book review (sorta)!  and a writing prompt!  and a To Do list!  ALL IN ONE.

One of the three books I'm currently reading is I Don't Know How She Does It.  Author Allison Pearson tells the tale of Kate Reddy,  a working mom's working mom.  Kate manages the market in her high-powered broker job at work, in addition to managing a husband, two kids, a nanny, in-laws,  the baggage of growing up poor with an alcoholic father, and various salon treatments -- but not without  a lot of stress and a good dose of comedy. 

One of my favorite features of the book so far (I'm still reading) are Kate's "Must Remember" paragraphs, which are To Do lists gone stream-of-conscious.  Here is a short sample of the first one in the book.  I found this especially timely with the madness of the holiday season quickly descending upon us.   Anyone who has ever lain in bed at night life-juggling will identify.

MUST REMEMBER: Angel wings. Quote for new stair carpet.  Take lasagne out of freezer for Saturday lunch.  Buy kitchen roll, stainless-steel  special polish thingy, present and card for Harry's party.  How old is Harry?  Five? Six?Must get organized with well-stocked present drawer like proper mother.  Buy Christmas tree and stylish lights recommended in Telegraph (Selfridge's or Habitat? Can't remember. Damn.).  Nanny's Christmas bribe/present (Eurostar ticket?  Cash? DKNY?).  Emily wants Baby Wee-Wee doll (over my dead body).  Present for Richard (Wine-tasting? Arsenal? Pajamas?), In-laws' book - the Lost Gardens of Somewhere?  Ask Richard to collect dry cleaning.  Office party, what to wear?  Black velvet too small.  Stop eating now.  Fishnets lilac.  Leg wax no time, shave instead.  Book stress-busting massage.  Highlights must book soonest (starting to look like mid-period George Michael).  Pelvic floor squeeeeeze!  Supplies of Pill!!!  Ice cake (royal icing? - chk Delia).  Cranberries.  Mini party sausages.  Stamps for cards.  Second class x 40.  Present for E's teacher?  And, whatever you do, wean Ben off dummy before Xmas with in-laws.  Chase KwikToy, useless mail-order present company.  Smear test NB.  Wine. Gin.   Vin santo.  Ring Mum.  Where did I put Simon Hopkinson "dry with hair dryer" goose recipe?  Stuffing?  Hamster???"

Your turn!  Let out all of those Post-It notes cluttering your brain.  I'd recommend that you type as you think with this one, and then let us laugh at the hilarity of your everyday life. 

Post in the comments, or in your own blog, with a link left here.  Merci.

I'll post mine tonight.  Kiddo's up from her nap.

firsts

It's Writing Wednesday, and since my partner-in-crime is in the middle of a move, you've got me.

Aren't you lucky? 

Here goes:

Sometimes the repetition of life dulls us.  My father, who is obviously quite eloquent, used to say, "Same shit, different day."  And it's true: get up, make breakfast, go to work (or work at home), come home, eat dinner, clean up, do some laundry, watch T.V., go to bed. 

Today is your chance to bust out of the routine.  It's not that I don't think you can find interest  in the mundane (see: every other post on this blog), but that sometimes it helps to recall the thrill, the excitement, the novelty of your firsts.

Write about the first time you did something.  The subject is your choice, but I'll throw out a few for inspiration: ride a bike, go on a date, kiss someone, get a pet, go snowskiing, travel out of the country, drive a car, rock climb, run a marathon.  You get the idea. 

Try to recall in as much detail as you can, and write in whatever format makes the most sense to you.   Leave your contribution in the comments or on your own blog, with a link in the comments, please.

lunchbox: my contribution

The cafeteria sat in the center of campus, and truth be told, it wasn't a cafeteria at all.  It was a multi-purpose room, and the sign on the door said so.  Before and after lunch period, it was cleared out and used for P.E., band rehearsals, and assemblies.  But during lunch, it was filled with rows of identical brown tables with collapsible benches and the noise of hundreds of kids.

I grew up in a Mormon neighborhood in a Mormon town, though I wasn't Mormon myself.  The one thing you can count on about Mormons is their fertility.  Family sizes in the double digits were commonplace on my block.  And lots of kids meant lots of kids at school.

Everyone brought their lunch.  At early ages, it was cool to bring a lunchbox with a favorite character.  As we got older, though, the brown bag became the preferred lunch transporter.  That way, you didn't have to carry a lunch box home.  Very few kids bought their lunch on an everyday basis.  There was, in fact, some stigma attached to getting a hot lunch, as many of the kids that did were poor and on the school lunch program.  Somewhere along the line, someone decided it was cool to buy something from the cafeteria, and so we all started bringing a quarter for a pint of milk.

Most of my friends brought standard issue sandwiches and chips and apples and desserts.  We'd pull out our Capri-Suns and the lunch lady would have to help punch the straw into the pouch.  The juice would inevitablely squirt her, and we would laugh and laugh.  She was good-natured, and she would smile.  I wonder now if she squeezed on purpose. 

Occasionally, Heather -- who was always setting trends -- would start a new lunch fad.  One time, she brought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with mint jelly.  Now, I'm still not sure what mint jelly is intended for, but I'm pretty sure it is not for sandwiches.  But she was doing it, so we wanted to too, and pretty soon the local Fry's was sold out of mint jelly.  Her mom also wrote her notes on her napkins and decorated her lunch bag.  I'm sure I whined to my mom, "Why don't you do that?" and soon enough, she did.

The sandwiches were so forgettable because, even then, it was all about dessert.  Hostess and Little Debbie pretty much had the corner on the market.  Not only were we eating processed, trans-fatty filled goodies, we were doing so with all the creativity we could muster.  Somehow as a kid, food is so much better if you pull it apart.  The peanut butter and chocolate wafers were the best for this: we would coax apart each of the layers and lick off the peanut butter in between.   Little Debbie Swiss rolls came in a close second, because you could eat the outer chocolate shell, unroll the cake and icing, lick the icing out and then eat the chocolate cake. 

Maybe the Swiss rolls were the best,  now that I think about it. 

- - - - - - - -
written in response to the prompt "lunchbox" as part of Writing Wednesdays.

lunchbox

Last week I posted a formula for poetry writing, and some of you were nice enough to join in my reindeer games.  Then, my friend and fellow spaz Leslie at Mrs. Flinger ran with it and created Writing Wednesday.   This has to be the vaguest themed blog prompt ever, but that's just how we roll.  Every week, we're going to brainstorming (via IM the night before, if you want the truth) about fun and exciting writing exercises that will push you out of your comfort zone.  If nothing else, it will give you something to write about today.  Join us!

This week's theme was inspired by Anne Lamott's book, Bird by Bird. (Leslie told everyone to buy this book and she's right.  It’s good. I promise.)  You can write a poem, a scene from a screenplay, or a short essay focused on the idea "LUNCH BOX”.

How you can play: Write (on your blog on in the comments) in your choice of format on your childhood lunch box.  If you didn't bring your lunch, but got a hot cafeteria lunch instead, tell us about that.  Explore the sights, smells, sounds, and memories of lunch time.  Work on all descriptions to help us be in your (much smaller) shoes.  Who did you eat with?  What was in your lunch?  Did you take your time and chat with your friends, or did you eat as fast as you could so that you could get outside to the kickball game?  Was your sandwich standard-issue PB&J, or did your parents get "creative"? 

Start with the basics and let yourself go.  You might be surprised at what (or who) shows up in your memories.

When you’re finished, be sure to link here and put it in the comments that you participated.

OH! And get a button!  (Thanks to Leslie for this!)

<a href="http://mrs.flinger.us/index.php/C50/"><img src="http://flinger.us/images/ww.gif"></a>

(I'll be adding my contribution later today.  Work is kicking my butt this afternoon.)