Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

Monday, August 18, 2025

Remember when I used to do reviews and stuff?

Back in the day when I was on social media and had a pretty expansive blog readership, I would post reviews of stuff: specific (usually limited-time-only) offerings from fast food restaurants, hair color, chocolate, energy drinks, recipes, etc. 

That might seem like "duh, of course; that's what social media is for" but at the time, I had a lot of audacity to think that people would want to read my opinion about the steak bagel at McDonald's (still my most viewed blog post of all time; it continues to get hits even though it's more than 12 years old and no one reads blogs anymore). 

That's not how I started out, and it's not what I do now... BUT I did want to weigh in on something:

Recently, I got a 3-month free trial of Apple+ TV. James got caught up on Foundation and is finishing The Expanse.

First, I binged the entire run of Ted Lasso, very late to the game. Everyone was right: It was a delight, start to finish. Built up my emotional investment and had a very enjoyable payoff at the end (no, I'm not going to try to watch the upcoming 4th season because why?). 

After that, though, I noticed a little recommendation for Acapulco, another three-season (third season still in progress) show that looked cheerfully-colored and interesting. 


I'm caught up and looking forward to the Wednesday releases of the rest of this season, and here's my take: This show is every bit as hopeful and surprisingly emotionally-engaging as Ted Lasso. It's set in the mid-1980s, so that's probably hitting right in my nostalgia. About 1/3 to 1/2 of each episode is in Spanish, so I'm learning a bunch of conversational touches I wouldn't have known otherwise (of course, it might just be 1980s slang and using it will make me sound dated, but I don't care; I like the sound of "que padre!" and I still say, "How cool!" to this day). 

Speaking of nostalgia, one of my favorite touches is that every episode, they have the resort singers perform one (or two) 80s hits in Spanish with choreography. Delightful.

Anyhoo. It seems like this show has had high ratings, so maybe I'm the last one on board here but I just wanted to throw my two cents in and highly recommend it if you have Apple+ TV or if you were looking for something to round out your free trial!

Sunday, March 9, 2025

Deja Vu

Did I mention that I'd started mystery shopping again? 

Well, I did. Restart, I mean. I genuinely don't remember whether I wrote about it or not.

As before, it's not enough to pay bills or anything, but it's a free meal here and $30 for a half-hour tour of a school there. It adds up.

Thursday, I had a fast food shop, then Mal went to open gym, and then we went to a child photo session (I'm splitting the pay with Mal: I get the free photo and he gets the money). 

As we were driving a bit to get to the photo studio listening to "The Order of the Phoenix" audiobook, I had a deep sense of "This feels familiar!"

Because that's exactly how D and I spent many hours of many days 15 years ago: driving to shops and listening to the Harry Potter audio series.

D on one of our many mystery shops at Buffalo Wild Wings.

Things have changed so much -- Rowling has made "enjoying" her series bittersweet by her rabid and unnecessary TERFdom, I'm older and find my mind isn't having as easy a time noticing and then remembering all of the things I need to know and remember to be good at this, and Mal isn't quite the pro that D was at his age -- but they're still so comfortable and pleasant -- hanging out with my kid a little more than usual, enjoying something together that he'd said before was "more D's thing" but I was sure he'd love if he gave it a chance, and earning a little bit to help offset our lack of income.

Altogether, it's a fun enough development.

I've had one shop that got declined because I misunderstood what I was supposed to take a picture of. Not bad, as I'm otherwise batting 900.

Hopefully I can find more things like the educational panel I did a few weeks ago where I was able to join a Zoom call and just give my opinions. 

Tuesday, November 1, 2022

The Second Most Consistent Male Presence in My Life

There is a slightly older gentleman who came into my life when I was 12 years old, and who has had, outside of my father, the most meaningful impacts on my life. I will never forget when I first realized that we were going to be something special...

When my sister and I were in elementary school, we had to go over to someone's house after school for the 45 minutes to an hour before my mom got home from the school where she taught. In 6th grade, that house belonged to our caddy-corner neighbor, Eugene Kersh.

It was toward the end of the school year, in early 1984, that we were eating popcorn and throwing it to Eugene's doberman (who would snatch it out of the air) when Eugene put on the 45 (RMP record, for you youngsters) for "Weird Al" Yankovic's "Eat It." Of course, I had heard that song on the radio. It was pretty funny, and a dead-on spoof of Michael Jackson's iconic "Beat It." When that was finished, he turned the record over to the B side and... "We all used to call him 'Jimmy the Geek.' He was a dumb-looking, scrawny little four-eyed freak. He never used to hang around with the guys; he'd just sit in the corner attracting the flies..." The catchy little tune went on to talk about Jimmy's many social foibles but how he had one redeeming quality: He could dance. By the end of the song, he's living the dream with his own TV show and tons of attention. Something about this original song with its tight lyrics and silly mental picture caught me. I wanted to hear more of it.

It took a while for me to save up some money to get a tape player (or maybe I got one for Christmas), but by the next year, I had my very on boom box. And the first tape I remember buying to play on it was "Weird Al in 3-D," which had both of those songs on it, as well as a send-up of the Rocky theme "Eye of the Tiger," some other parodies that got radio play (mostly on Dr. Demento's Sunday night show), a couple more great originals, and the first of his smash-up polkas I ever heard: Polkas on 45. 

I distinctly remember thinking that the combinations of pop songs (not all au courant, but recent enough that I knew of most of them) was extremely entertaining. I played the song for my mom, who suggested that I play the song for my aunt Norma, who might find it more amusing than she did.

After that, I bought every new Weird Al-bum that came out. I would often pop a tape into my Walkman and go to bed listening to the songs. "Slime Creatures from Outer Space" was one of my favorites. Thinking about listening to it in the cool dark of a winter night gives me extreme nostalgia in a way that little else does (maybe watching "Scarecrow and Mrs. King").

You've probably noticed this about me, but in case I need to state the obvious: I don't think about the world the same way a lot of people do. I find myself often wondering, "Sorry, am *I* the crazy one here?" And we probably all know the answer to that question. But something about bopping along to "Everything You Know is Wrong" helped me feel more centered, and more like I wasn't the only one who was, to be super corny and on-the-nose about it, weird.

Tonight, I was lucky enough to score a free pass to go see "Weird," a movie that is allegedly about the life of Alfred Yankovic (although it isn't; not the real version, anyway) that I suspect was borne out of this joke trailer from Funny or Die almost 10 years ago.

I haven't been able to make it to his past couple of concerts... the doors open so late, and there's usually an opener.. and, yeah, since I have a little who doesn't sleep a lot, I'm a giant wimp about it.

The first Weird Al show I attended was in Las Vegas at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in 1996. I remember waiting in line at the box office to get tickets the day they went on sale (this was before internet ticket sales!) and assuming that everyone else in line was doing the same thing. Then the guy in front of me asked, "Who are you going to see?" I told him and he looked surprised. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "No! He's awesome. I'm so excited!" The guy just shook his head and turned around. Whatever.

I saw another show in Las Vegas at the now-demolished Aladdin Hotel and Casino in 1998 or 1999. Then when I lived in North Texas, I saw him in Austin at the FunFunFun Fest in 2010. A year or so later, a couple of friends and I went to see him in Dallas at the Nokia Theater. Then in October 2013, James, D, and I went to Tulsa for the 25th anniversary of UHF. They had a day tour of filming sites, and then a concert in the evening. That was a lot of fun.

Pretty soon, we'll be at 40 years of fandom, and so far, this is one dude who hasn't let me down. So I'm looking forward to rubbing elbows with fellow freaks this evening. 



Monday, July 20, 2020

THE Best Band on the Planet??

I was looking for something in my "liked" videos today on YouTube (I think the video I for which I was searching has been removed; it was maybe 13 years old and fabulous, but times change...) when I ran across a video that made me cry the first time I watched it, and it made me cry today.

It's not a hugely touching video... maybe unless you were in marching band. Without further ado, here it is:



By the time I first saw this video, which was released ten years ago, I was already a fan of OK Go. I had this song on their album "On the Blue Colour of the Sky" and loved it... Obviously this is a total rearrangement of the studio recording, and when the full band joins in at the end, there is just so much joy it's kind of overwhelming.

I'd gotten interested in OK Go because of the first video I'd seen of theirs, which was "Here It Goes Again" (which I tried very unsuccessfully to sing at karaoke during this general time period, too). That video was super lo-fi, but also an extremely cool idea... and I'm in good company as this video has more than 51 million views!




Over time, the band got more and more elaborate with their music videos, and I'm going to share a few of my favorites here because you're a good person who deserves to see the amazingness. They also have not sacrificed any of their musicality, but have a solid library of songs that also happen to end up with some amazing visual accompaniments because these guys WORK.

What kind of made me tear up hearing them today was this: I bought my first OK Go album just as my marriage was most falling apart. I switched off listening to them and the "Hairspray" soundtrack every day as I walked while D was in gymnastics. Their music was like a dear friend who walked with me through some pretty difficult times. It was nice to get back in touch with them again.

They have made many more videos than I'll share, but these are my absolute favorites. Believe it or not, I have omitted some. But these are worth your time if you have a few, and if you want to be cheered. You won't regret it.

(They say the "f" word at the very beginning; forward to 30 seconds if that bothers you.)


Here's another one with a bunch of playing around with recording speeds, and a goose.



This is another one that was totally rearranged from the studio recording. It was partially shown as an ad in the 2012 Super Bowl, and the lead singer, Damian Kulash, took race- and stunt-driving lessons to be able to pull this off on his own. If you're familiar with the original recording, it's truly fantastic how they replicated the music with tubes and jars and the like. Oh, and over 1000 instruments in just over 2 miles of track. This one choked me up a little watching it again, as well.



This optical illusion video is taken in a single shot, something they do with a few of their videos.




I really dig this one. It's filmed half speed to make the dancing "pop," like in many Bollywood films (and the recent live-action Aladdin). The "LCD screen" effect at the end with the drone is truly spectacular.



Here's another one-take video, but because it was shot in the "vomit comet," there's a lot of playing around with film speeds to incorporate the "weightless" parts with the "climb back up" parts. This one is next-level.



Here's a four-minute video that took about thirty seconds to film. SERIOUSLY. You won't even care that the video is basically a commercial for salt.



Then there's a printer-themed video. It's FUN!




Finally, a bonus "This Too Shall Pass," for you Rube Goldberg fans.

Tuesday, October 29, 2019

The Way We Were

"Mem'ries light the corner of my mind... misty, water-color memories of the way we were."

James and I had a series of discussions once about whether having access to a smartphone makes our memories worse, in terms of just knowing that you can look up anything you might need to know, so why bother trying to remember it? One article I read said that, as a species, we've operated in outsourced memories forever. They gave the example of having shared experiences, like when within your family you can say, "Remember that movie with that guy who was in that musical?" and someone responds with, "Yeah! He did that pickle commercial, too..." and then eventually someone comes up with the name that everyone immediately recognizes (or says, "Huh, I wouldn't have ever landed on that.")

What I've found interesting about my life and the way I've lived it is that I simply do not remember much about my young adult life. I know I went to college(s), but beyond a dozen or so highlights, I have very few recollection of those years.

I can't recall what I ate when I lived by myself in that apartment right off campus. I do remember working for an incompetent lady who shouldn't have owned a boutique kids' clothes shop... but how did I get that job there? Why did I? Did I have any real friends in the theater department? I remember not being lonely (as I'd been at the first college I attended), but... what was I doing?

I know I lived in Eureka Springs for a year or so, but cannot remember what I did with my time except for that once I gave blood at a college campus a mile away, walking both ways, and then passed out when I got home; or the time I put all of my ponytail-holders in my hair and ended up with a single horn on top of my head. I guess I also remember helping with VBS at a church, and working out with some friends' kids. But that's almost all I have for an entire year.

Then in Las Vegas, I had a job at Sam's Club, and I volunteered for Greyhound Pets of America... but I don't know how I found GPA. Except for two notable examples, I don't remember where I went out to eat. I don't remember what the library looked like. I couldn't navigate The Lakes without GPS, though I used to walk the area almost every day. What did I do at Sam's Club before I fell in with a guy there? Who were my work buddies?

Once I had kids, the memories stay in place more securely. I think a good part of that is that I have digital pictures starting in 2001, so I come across things that jog my memory and act as an electronic life partner. But it's weird having vague recollections like that someone gave me a box of Forrest Gump chocolates once, and I remember the candy and the living room I was sitting in but do not know at all what the context was or who the people were. (Although my parents might be able to come up with that one, since I think they were there, too.)

Sometimes I'm tempted to wish that James and I had gotten together in high school, but he insists we probably wouldn't be together anymore because of how much he's changed since then... obviously, I have, too. And in the few years we have been together, I know that he jogs my memory or even challenges it quite often. He also takes copious notes about things that happened, so if I wonder, "When did Mal stop needing diapers?" it's just a matter of his looking up a key word and he can come up with it in a few minutes.

Now, thanks to Google Photos, here are some memories from this day, October 29, in history... the past 18 years, anyway.















Thursday, March 21, 2019

Our 6th Anniversary

Our 6th anniversary is in about a week and a half, and I only thought of it (like since our last anniversary) last night. We don't have plans; I don't remember what we did last year. I'm afraid we might be the worst at creating big celebratory traditions that our son will remember forever.

It's interesting, because I see this happen in so many facets of our lives: The way we live, "big" things can be challenging. What do we get the kids for Christmas when we pretty much get them everything they need and most of the things they want when they ask? How do we differentiate this birthday cake from the cake I made two weeks ago? How do we mark a day to celebrate our marital union when we live every day with so much love and partnership and sometimes even cool meals out?

(On a personal level, the borderline obsession I used to have with menus and novelty food is much diminished now that I feel free to eat whatever I want whenever I feel like it.)

Six years. Sometimes it seems fast, and other times it feels like we've been together (and raising a second child) FOREVER.

It's longer than my first marriage... of which I remember very little. When you don't have someone with you to share your memories, they disappear. So much of my 20s is a blur. It's weird.

It's about half as long as my second marriage. We did hit 13 years, but it was already over by then.

Much like Ross Gellar, I never wanted to be "that person." You know, the one who was divorced twice. And every time I hear people (I admire very much, usually) bemoaning how some Christians can support Trump (I'm not a fan) when, among other things, he's "twice-divorced" or on his third spouse, I'm like... welp, that's me, too. Guess I'm just a big old slimy scumbag.

That was sarcasm, actually. I know my life; I know what I've done and why I did it. It wasn't always pure and blameless.

However, while there are individual things I would be tempted to tweak if given a do-over, where I've ended up is pretty spectacular. In a quiet, comfortable way.

I'm sitting at my dining room table while Mal watched a video and D sleeps. There are two pigeons out on the flight deck of the loft, and about 4 birds (a cardinal couple, a Carolina chickadee, and a house finch) at the bird feeder in the back yard. I can see it all from here (except D). Dinner is in the oven and there's a dog barking outside. I'm vacation planning as I blog, and I'm ready for James to come home.

It's pretty great.

Granted, marriage can be challenging at times. James and I feel like ships passing in the evening/morning in ways that never happened when D was little; Mal just requires more of everything, so it can be a trick even to have a conversation, much less alone time. But there is no drama. There is no waiting for the other shoe to drop. To put it in Harry Potter terms: My scar hasn't hurt in more than six years; all is well.

Happy anniversary, baby! Here's to another year or two, minimum.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

The Magic of Music at Morrison Elementary

The other day, an old friend tagged a bunch of us "Morrison kids" in a Facebook post, and it got me to thinking about how special my elementary school was. I was kind of tempted to think it was just a product of its time (late 70s to early 80s), but having talked to several people, including my husband (who is my contemporary and with whom I went to high school, but we attended grade school in different towns), I realize maybe it was just a truly spectacular pocket of the educational universe that we had the privilege of walking through.

There were many things that made the school pretty different. For one, the classes were in an "open classroom" format, meaning that there were two "pods" in the building: One contained 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and a 1st/2nd split; all separated only by rolling bookshelves and cabinets, which were probably taller than the youngest kids, but not the older ones. The other space had 4th-6th grades. Kindergarten was its own giant room off to the side, with so many interesting stations and areas. Anyway, some years, I remember all four teachers in the 1st-3rd area had their desks together in the center of the space, and some years, they chose to put them against the far walls.

Except for my 5th grade teacher, I had educators who seemed not only to love teaching, but to love me specifically, and I feel like they probably made other kids feel that way, too. But it wasn't just the teachers. My friend Theresa Baker and I adored the janitor so much, we'd often purposefully tighten the lids on our Thermoses just so we could ask whoever had lunchroom duty if we could go get him to open them. Looking back, of course the teachers and the janitor were on to our little game. I hope he enjoyed the visits. He was extremely kind to us.

Then there were the field days, the fall festivals (oh, the cake walks!), science fairs, spelling bees, and the fun Santa's Workshop "store" where we kids could shop for our family members' Christmas presents without tipping Mom and Dad off to what they were getting.

But the one thing I remember as having made my elementary years the most enjoyable on a consistent basis were our music classes. First, please let me introduce you to one of the most fun adult women I had ever met up to that point (I'm sure when you only have to deal with kids for an hour at a time, you have the luxury of being a lot more fun than "regular" teachers!):


There. In the middle, between my sister and me (yeah; I know. It was 1986 and I was in my awkward phase. Whatever.). That's Becky Pickle. Her laugh... I can't even describe it. I just hope she enjoyed life as much as it seemed like she did.

Music class was, I believe, twice a week, and held in the big, wide-open multi-purpose room (that last time I drove by was being used as storage, sadly) where we could do things like play cage ball if the weather were too bad for recess. We didn't learn to play instruments, per se. I think we did do rhythm sticks and recorders, but things like orchestra and band were introduced in 5th grade and were separate animals. Also, she introduced us to notes and time signatures and all of those things, but it wasn't primarily a music theory class. Really, we did a bit of everything. Mostly, we sang. A lot.

We put on programs.


For Valentine's Day.



For Christmas.


For something having to do with the founding of America, maybe?

We learned such a rich variety of music, too. We sang a bunch of folk music. American, sure; but also Japanese ("Sakura"), Cuban ("Peanut Vendor"), Jewish (The Hanukkah Song), as well as some Caribbean stuff that I remember specifically.

Some of the songs were beautiful and I remember to this day. Also, I can see now that some were basically just variations on other scales set to words so we could be introduced to them and recognize them. And some were exercises in rhythm. We also learned to square dance. And we learned tinikling.

Even more importantly, I think, Ms. Pickle let us to choose things to sing, setting aside time in class for various students who wanted to to perform. I never listened to country music, but had Sylvia's "Nobody" memorized, having listened to my friend practice it over and over. I remember when a couple of girls sang the MASH theme song. I felt very in on something mature and maybe even wrong that we were listening to our classmates singing about suicide.

I think Ms. Pickle made music fun and accessible to everyone. We didn't have to try out to be in the programs; we were all automatically in. And we practiced a lot, but ultimately, it was just a great time.

If I could wish one thing for the education of everybody's kids, it would be that enrichment programs could stay around. These are some of my best memories from elementary school, and I feel so fortunate that I got to be one of Ms. Pickle's students.


More singing.


We did a lot of programs.


I'm fairly certain that this "Caribbean" night might be considered culturally insensitive today. But I remember feeling very festive. 


Tuesday, January 31, 2017

The Colorful World of Poverty on Television (and in my own house)

We all know the "ugly girl" trope on cheesy TV shows: glasses on a hot girl and, boom, she's ugly!

But have you noticed what I've noticed about how the lower middle class is presented in television shows? Their homes are bathed in color. People who have above-average means (most people on television) tend to have a general color theme, but "poor" people just have random stuff sitting around, I guess, and that is what shows us that they're not people of means.

For example...


Of course the first thing to spring into my mind is the Conner house from "Roseanne." My grandma crocheted (or knitted??) at least one blanket like that. How about yours?  I guess the theme here is that they have mismatched pieces of furniture, and this shows that they don't have any money, because if they did, they'd have stuff that was matchy-matchy? In fact, did they change it the last season?

Oh, another thing that shows "poverty" in television shows is the colorful restrooms. Here's the one in the Conner house.


I actually dig the flamingo curtain, obvs. I'm sure if someone bought a house with this bathroom today, they'd rip it out... but I don't know that I would. I think it's kind of cute.

The bathroom on "Malcolm in the Middle" had a similar pink and blue theme, but I can only find a .gif of that from the spider episode. So just trust me.

On "Married with Children," the living room was kind of bland, but that was to illustrate Al Bundy's life, I'm guessing. His very colorful wife had a bathroom that reflected her own personal, ahem, taste?


On The Unbreakable Kimmie Schmidt, Kimmie and Titus live in a basement apartment in an allegedly poor (but gentrifying) and crime-ridden area of New York. Again, we have these deep, rich colors: turquoise on the walls, red window coverings, purple paint in another room, patterned flooring, and mismatched couch cushions on a blue couch.

Oh, plus Ms. White going "upstairs." Genius.
It doesn't look that small or that awful to me, but when richer people come by, they always remark about how poor Kimmie is. *shrug*

I don't watch Shameless, but have read that it's one of the better depictions of poverty on television righ tnow. Guess what?


Right: colored walls, wallpaper with tiny pattern, that bright turquoise pack-and-play, teal shelves, and colorful stuff on the shelves. Then the kitchen (below) has curtains with a small pattern and a bunch of stuff hanging on the wall. So I guess any small pattern, whether as wallpaper or on draperies, indicates that one didn't have the funds to buy something more subtle?


One of my favorites, both in terms of the television show itself and the decor, is The Middle. It looks "real" to me, and it looks comfortable. And I can relate with the "months without a kitchen sink" thing. I never did that, but I did have no oven for a year once. But I'd totally live in the Hecks' house.


Handmade blankets are another common thread. Do rich people not use hand-crafted items made by grandma or anyone in the family? Do they only buy stuff from Peru that was pre-selected because it complemented their Flor tiles?

This whole house just looks like fun to me. A little loud? Maybe. But I'd take it.


Oh, and we can't forget another infamously poor group: The pals from Friends. Although their lack of funds and "crappy NY apartment" were a joke, guess what they had to PROVE they were poor? Yeah. Turquoise.


Oh, and mismatched dining chairs. Delightful.

So, what does that mean? I don't know, but I look at these obviously color-saturated abodes... Oh, yeah, here's one that's way more literal first.

Where Lois and Hal from Malcolm in the Middle lived after they'd had kids: 


Versus where they lived pre-kids, when both had jobs so they had more money (and time to clean, I suppose):

I couldn't find a great picture, but EVERYTHING was white.

Does this Hollywood design strategy reflect a larger truth? Our living room is crazy with randomness, but here's what I see when I look around: 1) A giant old comfy couch (that we haven't moved since 2013 because it's TOO HEAVY and justifies hiring movers all on its own) that was built during the 60s or 70s, likely, and that used to belong to James' grandma. It's orange and yellow and faded brown, as you would expect. 2) A giant blue recliner and a half that I bought for $25 from a guy who was moving out of our old apartment complex. It's SO comfortable. 3) A beat up old travel trunk that I bought off of Craigslist from a guy in Dripping Springs so James would have a place to store stuff in "his" new Austin house, other than just keeping it in boxes. 4) A red foam kids' couch that I got for Mal and that he uses as a ball pit sometimes; one of the best purchases I've made for him (other than his kitchen). 5) A red kids' recliner that someone who has never met me before ordered for Mal because she saw a picture of him watching TV sitting on a stepstool. 

You know what? That makes for one loud color pallette, but I love all of these pieces, and I did get an area rug to kind of pull everything together, but it actually adds another color (TURQUOISE!) that wasn't in the living room before, and there's no red in it. So it's still a hot mess. I probably could afford to switch it all out, but why would I? 

Color makes me happy. Patterns are fun. When I moved into my house in Sherman, a Las Vegas friend saw a picture of the dining area (which we used as a homeschool room) and said, "You can paint over that wallpaper and it won't hurt my feelings." I never did. It was warm and inviting. Did it look like it belonged in a grandma's house? Probably. But being at Grandma's feels nice, right?

When we moved here, I purposefully got mismatched dining room chairs. Again, I like the variation. And, if one breaks, I don't have to work hard to find an exact match. Just find something else that strikes my fancy at the time (which is a thing that your grandma would have said).

Our bedroom is another non-uniform collection: a bed we got because we gave up on our kid sleeping on his own for years, a leather recliner James "won" in a raffle (his friend was organizing the giveaway and manipulated the drawing), pictures from our trip to Haiti, nightstands that were originally end tables James' parents got as wedding presents maybe, and a cat condo. Oh, and a blue chair back with arms. 

I blogged a year or so ago about how I thought I would never own "grown-up" furniture, meaning a set of really anything. At the time, D didn't love my ideas and asked if we'd ever have a cohesive design scheme. However, lately, between the awesome NASA pictures we did (had each one printed on canvas), and the sweet outdoor couch area we finished off today, D is starting to appreciate the "quirky" "style." 

So there are two things: I want my house to be comfortable, and I think what we've done accomplishes that. Also, when our little tiny house downtown was up for rent, the listing called it an "adorable eclectic home."  Thing is, move our loud, clashy, comfortable stuff out, and it's just this kind of boring itty bitty space.

Thus, I'm sticking with the poor TV folk style. I like it, and I hope you do, too. Feel free to come over any time! <3

Thursday, June 4, 2015

An Anniversary, in our own words

This weekend is the third anniversary of the weekend when James and I got reacquainted after so many years. People ask if it was Facebook where we reconnected, and that's only sort of the case. We'd kept in touch ever since high school.

I wrote him when he was in the Navy. We spoke on the phone and via letters several times over the years. How *did* we find people before the internet? Well, anyway, I'd found him somehow when he and his brother's family were dirt farming in Oklahoma, and then again later when we communicated through Yahoo! emails.

So, yeah, this time we were communicating via Facebook, which he hates. But he didn't have a phone at the time, and it was the easiest way to do things. I have deleted emails, but fortunately Facebook saved some pretty important stuff.

I'd been trying to get James down to Dallas to visit for some time. He always had an excuse. Then my friend Sherri and I were planning a trip to Austin, the very trip where I decided once and for all to move here, in fact.

I wanted desperately to be at that funeral. I even looked at flights or the possibility of driving up Sunday... But it didn't work.

We chatted a couple of times after the funeral, which was difficult for him, as one would imagine, but also for different reasons than the standard very sad loss of a father.

It seemed like that on top of some other life experiences he was having had messed with his head and he was just out of it.

Except this was pretty funny:
Reading back over the messages is a little tough, because I was trying so hard to be humorous and carefree, and James was so distant and edgy. We were both trying to be friendly and support each other, but now that I know us together... it's just jarring.

  • May 28, 2012
  • Laura Gatannah
    Laura Gatannah


    What the hell happened to you, man??
  • May 29, 2012
  • James Gatannah
    James Gatannah


    (Not that I'll be spending much time in front of it now...just happened to check in at random)
  • Laura Gatannah
    Laura Gatannah


    He lives!!

    Just glad you're still around. wink emoticon
  • May 30, 2012
  • James Gatannah
    James Gatannah


    I immersed myself in the Dresden Files and read the entire series all in a row, just because I've been in that kind of mood. Couldn't really motivate myself to look at a computer.

  • June 2, 2012
  • Laura Gatannah
    Laura Gatannah


    Hey! Please please please... I desperately need a visit, sir. I have a business trip next week but will be home Friday evening. Could Tulsa spare you for like 48 hours? I have a Groupon for an amazing meal, and I could cook for you the rest of the time. I am planning to move to Austin in August and would love to see you before I go. Let me know.
  • June 5, 2012
  • James Gatannah
    James Gatannah


    I need more room than facebook provides for a response. Do you still check laura_hattaway@hotmail.com, or is there a better place to send it?
  • Laura Gatannah
    Laura Gatannah


    That will work.

Yeah, I straight-up begged. And, no, I'm not sharing that email with you. It was basically to the tune of, "These aren't the droids you're looking for." In other words, no. I think I wrote back with, "Yeah, I'm totes coming." Then this happened back over on Facebook.

Right. Blank-o.

So I spent the rest of the next day wondering what the heck to do. In the end, I said I was going to drive up, and James did actually tell me where he lived. So I went. And I cooked. And we ate at Cheesecake Factory and went to this place and talked and really caught up on 20 years or so of our histories.

Then I drove home, expecting nothing.




But you know what? Three years later, I'm starting to believe him.