Spoils of War: Last night as Hoop was off at school, I pulled down some boxes from my closet that had long been collecting dust. I didn't know exactly what was in them. But I had a good idea. Two hours later I was still sifting through the memorabilia of my past relationships. It wasn't hard to throw away the pictures. The loving embraces of the people in the photographs appear so fake now. I searched the face of the girl looking back at me and saw no hint of love there. I saw someone too young to know what she was looking for. It wasn't hard to throw away the souvenirs either: pressed flowers, wax hands, and a dozen cheesy teddy bears. But then I came across something that left me a little confused on what to do... Baby pictures.
What the hell were those boys thinking? My Mom would have kicked my ass. I shuffled through the handful of pictures. There were little boys in basinets, in towel capes, with gaping smiles, wearing bubble beards, and in Halloween costumes. I almost felt perverse. The pictures landed neatly in the garbage, only to be rescued a moment later. I threw them away and pulled them out three times. I didn't feel right keeping them. I didn't feel right throwing them away. For a moment I contemplated finding the owners of the pictures. But crossing burnt bridges was never my type of thrill.
Indecision might as well equal insanity in my world. It makes me do/think stupid things. I carried the pictures with me to work today. I didn't want to box them back up and leave the decision for another day, five years further down the line. I didn't want to leave them out and have to explain to Hoop why I have baby pictures of someone else. For the first hour of work I thought about them, tucked away in my purse. Will I ever be able to get rid of them? Or am I determined to make myself carry them around forever like a scarlet letter? And then it dawned on me...
THIS IS RIDICULOUS. It's not my fucking fault these idiots so carelessly gave away their childhood. I would never have left behind something so special. They hit the trash can with much less of an explosion then I expected, and God's finger didn't come down from the clouds to point at me. So I'm hoping I did the right thing. [Edit: Did I do the right thing? I did the right thing... Man, this sucks.]
What kind of English do ya'll speak?
80% General American English
0% Upper Midwestern
When I first moved here from up north a gentleman down here asked me, "What's the difference between a Yankee and a damn Yankee? A Yankee comes to visit. A damn Yankee comes to stay." Wouldn't he be proud to know I'm no longer just an implant. I say "Ya'll" and everything!
Strange Superstitions: Tomorrow is Friday the 13th. In honor of that dreaded date, here is a list of strange facts and trivia concerning the number 13. Ooooooh. ;)
1. More than 80% of high-rises lack a 13th floor.
2. Many airports skip the 13th gate and no airplanes have a 13th aisle.
3. On streets in Florence, Italy, the house between the number 12 and 14 is addressed 12 and a half.
4. In France, socialites known as the quatorziens (fourteeners) once made themselves available as 14th guests to keep a dinner party from an unlucky fate.
5. Many Triskaidekaphobes (people who fear the number 13) point to the ill-fated mission to the moon, Apollo 13, as verification for their anxiety.
6. Some people who have 13 letters in their name: Jack the Ripper, Charles Manson, Jeffrey Dahmer, Theodore Bundy, and Saddam Hussein.
7. According to the Bible, Judas Iscariot was the 13th person to sit at Christ's table.
8. In a deck of Tarot cards, the number 13 card is called "Death."
9. Friday the 13th occurs at least once a year, sometimes twice. In 1998, Friday the 13th occurred three times. The next year in which this will occur is 2009.
10. Some people consider the $1 bill unlucky because there are so many 13's on it: 13 stars, 13 stripes, 13 steps, 13 arrows and even the olive branch has 13 leaves on it.
11. Every year 13 people are killed by vending machine accidents. Was that Snickers really worth it?!
12. Composer Arnold Shoenbeg was superstitious of the number 13. He died on Friday the 13th at 13 minutes to midnight.
12 1/2. Lizzy Borden uttered a total of 13 words at her trial.
14. Fear of the number 13 costs Americans billions of dollars per year in absenteeism, train and plane cancellations, and reduced commerce.
Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Look at all the weeds! They shouldn't be growing in the dead of winter.
Hoop: We'll go pick up some weed killer this weekend.
Tink: ...Or rabbits.
Hoop: Uh, or rabbits.
Tink: ...Or a goat.
Hoop: A goat?
Tink: I don't want to mow anymore either.
Hoop: But a goat will eat all the grass.
Tink: Not if I buy a really really small one.
Hoop: So we need to go buy some rabbits and a goat?
Hoop: Thank you baby.
Tink: For what?
Hoop: Cheering me up.
Tink: You're welcome.
Labels: Daily Hoop Conversations