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On The Block This Week


Monday
Class, 8AM-12PM
Counseling 1PM-2PM

Tuesday
Class, 8AM-12PM
Preparing a speech 1PM-5PM
Checking out the new apartment 6PM-7PM
Designing and printing out 16 visual aides 8PM-3AM
(and my color just died … damn it! Well, 7 of them are done )


Wednesday
Class, 8AM-12PM
Speech is somewhere in the 10AM-Noon class

Thursday
Class, 8AM-12PM
Studying for tomorrow’s test in Poli Sci with “Dr. Magna Carter”

Friday
Class, 8AM-12PM
Test is in the 8AM-10AM block
Library 1PM-2PM


Xanga
Ummm … I’ll squeeze it in! to you all!

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Print Shop Stories
Mitch: He’s Not All Bad


While Mitch was occasionally a pimple on the butt of humanity, he was occasionally sweet, too. He bought everyone doughnuts on pay day. He brought biscuits once a week for everyone below management level. He gave up his chair for ladies in the break room. He always offered to buy my drink during morning break.


Mitch also had a knack of saying things to you that would jolt you out of any funk that you might be in. When my husband and I were having problems, I went to Mitch to talk. He listened so intently, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern, his face stern and contemplative. At one point in the conversation I started crying and had to stop talking. Mitch reached over, took my hands in his and said ever so quietly, “You’ve got a purty mouth.” Squeals of laughter escaped me. I was not expecting that at all.


Mitch’s first wife, Donna, was an elementary school teacher. They were married for fifteen years and had a son and daughter, three years and one year older than I was at the point that I met him. They talked occasionally and civilly. He had always taken pumpkins to her class on Halloween, their anniversary, for the kids to make jack-o-lanterns. He did this every year of their marriage. He did this every year after their marriage, too. He was still very much in love with Donna, though things didn’t work out for reasons he wouldn’t tell me until much later.


Mitch took up a collection for me from all of the guys at work when I got married and sent me off on my honeymoon with over $200. I secretly knew they were doing this and that over fifty of it was his own money. This was an especially sweet gesture since he had met my future husband and believed him to be the scum of the Earth that he would morph into later.


On Saturday mornings when the two of us had nothing to work on but were still required to stay our full 12 hour shift, we would go into the office area and play hide and go seek, or Marco Polo. We found a computer with an internet connection and I taught him how to surf online. We cruised South Park sites and took turns being on the outlook for the supervisor.



to be continued …


See the whole story so far here.

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Art of the Day



Paul Cadmus
Manikins, 1951
Egg tempera on paper
13 x 16 inches
DC Moore Gallery, NYC


This painting made me think of the way that Gray holds me as I sleep at night.  Just a really neat painting.  Cute in a art-world-Toy-Story kind of way.

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Art of the Day



Richard Estes (b.1936)
Gordon’s Gin, 1968
Oil on board, 62.2 x 81.3 cm
Private collection


I am amazed at how much this looks like a photograph.  I’d saw off a boob to have that much talent!  I love the way that the whole thing really captures the look of the era.  Wowsers …

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Most Annoying Sounds


Smacking lips while eating. Brandi brought this up the other day and I must agree. My theory is that this is why most people eat in front of the TV. Perhaps it is because most people eat in front of the TV.


The little “Uh-oh” default on ICQ. This is especially annoying when you are talking to someone who types really fast and you hear it every three seconds. This is incredibly more annoying if you heard it repeatedly while your ex-husband was cybering with a 12 year old girl in Turkey at 3AM.  (Not that I am bitter or anything.)


“Dixie” car horns. I liked these for a while, but the “Dukes of Hazard” got canceled, people. The Duke boys were attractive enough to get away with this. The people around here who do it are not. The Duke boys did it when jumping ravines, trains and police cars. The local yokels do it in the middle of the Sonic parking lot. This once almost caused me to blow Cherry Lime-Aid out of my nose.


“Well, DUHHHHHHH!” Good God, people … get a vocabulary. This hasn’t been “cool” since I was in the 9th grade. (And that was QUITE a while ago.)


“Yup, yup.” Nope, nope.


Please add your own to the list …

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September – December 1980
My Uncle Curtis moved back home after divorcing his wife Linda. This was the best thing that could have happened to me. The man was (and is) a creative genius and introduced me to magic markers. He bought me my first box of crayons and coloring book. Thus, my love of art was born. Curtis encouraged my drawing and coloring and told me that I was a natural. Early on, I learned to channel my hurt and anger into something positive. (Part of the reason I want to be an art therapist now.) For me, it was almost a survival tactic.


Curtis had a twenty-four set of markers that had me drooling. I dared not touch them, but I loved to hold them in their clear, plastic holder and just admire the colors. I still remember those markers and the imprint that they made on me.


My favorite colors were green and violet-blue. That still holds true, though I really love all colors. I think the green thing was because of Kermit the Hunk. (Had he ever left Miss Piggy, we would have had a torrid affair.)


Curtis also introduced me to my first taste on non Claud-and-Iris music. The only music that my grandparents had was gospel albums, Gene Autrey’s “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and Box Car Willie’s “Greatest Hits”. I was dying a little more everyday because of this. Curtis brought in a record with this song on it called “Valley Girl”. It started out, “Gross to the max, Gag me with a spoon…” I thought this was hilarious and I begged him to listen to it over and over again. There was a pumpkin on the label at the center of the record, and I watched it spin around and around, the orange fading in with the blue on the background.


I spent a lot of time in Curtis’ room … drawing, listening to music and breathing a little freedom. I could get away with it, too. Summer was over and it was too cool to be outside all day. (Perhaps that’s why I love winter now?) Iris caught on the fact that I was enjoying myself and dragged me out of Curtis’ room during soap opera commercial breaks. This was only a small deterrent because I could color in my room though and if I was really quiet, I could hear the music through the wall.


January 1981
I celebrated my 4th birthday only after Claud came home. He brought hot dogs from my favorite place in Liberty, The Dairy Bar. They crammed everything in one bag whenever you ordered. We always joked that someone had sat on them. They had really good food, though – sat on or not.


Due to a big fight that I heard part of but didn’t fully understand, Curtis had to move out. I was devastated. My favorite relative and mentor was leaving. He gave me his markers and told me to hide them from Iris. I did, but I wished that I could have hidden him there, too.


I later found out that the reason Curtis had to leave was because he had told my grandparents that he was gay. They told him to leave their house and not to come back until he “over it”. They still don’t speak to each other to this day, though he brought his two sons to their house for Christmas a few years after this happened.  I have intervened on Curtis’ part many time to Claud. They don’t acknowledge that they have a son, even twenty years later. Also, unbeknownst to me at the time, Curtis went to live with my mom and her newest boyfriend in Greensboro when he was booted.


See the whole story so far here.

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May – August 1980


I was such a “grandpa’s girl”. Claud was my hero and a father figure of sorts. I really looked up to my grandpa. He worked hard, had a good sense of humor and tried to make me feel special.


My grandma was another story altogether. She doted all over Lisa, but despised me. She saw me trying to mimic her handwriting and noticed that I was doing it with my left hand, not my right. She spanked me and told me that I should do it with my right. I tried but it felt very awkward. I switched back to the left.


I watched Sesame Street as I had before my mom left. I still had a crush on Kermit the Frog and Raggedy Andy. I had an Andy doll that was as tall as I was. I practiced kissing him. I got scolded for it and Iris locked the doll away.


During summer vacation Iris locked me and Lisa outside from the time that Claud left for work until about five to ten minutes before he came home in the afternoon. It was God-awful hot outside and so we would climb up under the car to get in the shade. There were no trees in the yard, but way off in the back of the meadow. We weren’t allowed out of the yard.


Our only time inside during the day was at 11AM. We got to come inside and eat lunch while Iris watched “The Price Is Right”. We always had sandwiches, usually of the banana and mayonnaise or peanut butter and jelly variety. They were made on white bread, which turned to dough after about ten minutes. We choked them down with powdered milk. I always thought of it as white water. It grossed me out then and still does.


So Iris sat inside in the air conditioning all day listening to religious radio programs and watching soap operas while we sweated and panted, looking forward to our crappy little lunches and our white milk break. We tried to play before things got too hot and we had to crawl under the car. I danced and tried to catch pill bugs to play with. Lisa was usually off in her own little world and liked playing by herself.


After Claud got home from work we would eat dinner and talk. I tried to tell on Iris for leaving us outside in the heat, but she would call me a liar and whip me for it. I finally gave up. I learned early on that the truth wasn’t a big commodity in that house.  I also learned that ‘switches’ hurt like hell.


Iris locked all of our toys in the closet in our bedroom. We were allowed to have one paper grocery bag of toys out at one time. Lisa generally picked out all of her favorites and filled the bag first. I squeezed mine in on top. Of course Lisa got to go first because she was “younger and didn’t know any better.” That was Iris’s favorite excuse for favoring Lisa over me. That and, “One of you has to give in. Jennifer, you are older, so you should be the one to do it.” Lisa never argued and Claud was rarely home, so I got rolled over on these things.




Previous posts on this subject: part 1part 2