Lilac Colored Glasses

Here it is folks, my one hundredth post. I wish it hadn’t fallen during NaBloPoMo cause really, at this point, writing here is becoming unfun. It’s not that I don’t love to write…obviously I do or this whole blog thing would be totally pointless…it’s the feeling of being forced to write (although who am I kidding? No one is standing over me with a loaded gun forcing me to blog. It was a personal commitment, a test of my writer’s fortitude, if you will. Remind me to pass on this next year). But anyway, it is my 100th post and the part of me that hasn’t become a withered husk of empty brains, bleeding fingertips and severe carpal tunnel is still pretty jazzed at seeing 100 posts. So, in commemoration, like I promised, here is my totally self-centered, self aggrandizing, ubervain list of 100 things about me:

1. My first car was a green Pontiac Sunfire

2. I hit a bear with it on the way to open a bank account the summer before I went to college.

3. The bear I hit survived, but the deer that ran into my car two years later did not.

4. Internationally I have been to Canada, Belize, Guatemala, Australia, New Zealand, Ireland and Belgium (duh on that one)

5. Domestically I have been to New York, New Jersey, Maryland, Ohio, West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, Florida, Nevada and California

6. My favorite colors are green and purple.

7. I own way too many items of grey clothing.

8. My favorite brand of gum is 5. I actually go out of my way to go to Giant Eagle every few days for a new pack because I’ve yet to see it sold elsewhere.

9. November 19^th will mark my fourth month of not smoking.

10. I think I prefer working with 2 year olds over 3 year olds.

11. The last thing I ever wanted to do with my life was be a teacher/work with children.

12. For most of my childhood I wanted to be a marine biologist.

13. Until I was 12 my idol was Eugenie Clark.

14. When I was 7 or 8 we took a summer vacation to Sea World and we were allowed to pet the dolphins. I cried when I touched one for the first time. I guess that counts as my first euphoric moment.

15. I started writing stories when I was in second grade. My teacher, Mrs. Valentine, gave me my own notebook to write in. All my characters were based on me, my brother, our next door neighbor and two Israeli kids that were in my kindergarten class. I used everyone’s Hebrew names, you know, for anonymity.

16. I built a suspension bridge out of toothpicks and marshmallows (or maybe it was gumdrops) during my first year in the gifted program in elementary school.

17. I was the best speller in my third grade class.

18. My academic career took a definite plunge when we moved to Plum.

19. My first day in my new school, they made the new kids stand up and say where they lived. At the time my housing development was brand new and no one knew the name of it or the names of the streets in it. When I told them the name of the plan and my street name, not even the teacher knew where I was talking about. Somehow this incident was remembered as me forgetting where I lived in 4^th grade.

20. I really don’t like Plum that much.

21. That’s not totally true, it’s not Plum itself, just a lot of the people in it.

22. I am a member of Theta Phi Alpha Sorority.

23. I held the offices of Pledge Educator (two consecutive semesters), Recording and Corresponding Secretary, Parliamentarian, Rituals, and Risk Management. This was in 3 semesters of active sisterhood

24. My sorority is, in fact, a fraternity because one of the original founders/sponsors was a man (Father Edward Kelly).

25. Yeah, you read that right; I joined a Catholic sorority (Catholic origins, secular now).

26. I was raised Jewish and now consider myself an odd amalgamation of Atheistic Buddhist.

27. I stopped believing in God when my aunt died of breast cancer in 1995, before I turned fourteen.

28. Speaking of boobs, just got mine re-measured after a few years; triple D, I shit you not. Anyone know any notable reconstructive surgeons in Belgium, cause at this rate, something’s gotta give.

29. In my sorority house I lived in a converted kitchen. I still had cabinetry in my room and a working sink.

30. My first real pet was a ferret named Scylla.

31. I drove across the state to get her from a breeder near Lancaster.

32. The next year I got a boy ferret named Brutus.

33. I had both of them for another year before I moved to a new apartment and due to a well intentioned lie by the woman who does the contract signing, I was forced to give them back to the breeder when the building super saw them in my apartment.

34. This was about the time I went and found Rex.

35. I loved my ferrets, but I’m much more contented with my cat.

36. My favorite book as a child was Where the Red Fern Grows

37. My favorite foods are black olives, smoked salmon, and most kind of soup (excluding cheese based soups…bleh).

38. My favorite dessert (yes this is a different category) if I haven’t mentioned it, is crème brulee.

39. I have a bleeding disorder called Von Willebrand’s Syndrome.

40. Due to said disorder I had to take pills to make my blood clot after I got all 4 of my wisdom teeth removed. I had to take 8 pills 4 times a day.That’s 32 pills day. Not an easy task when your jaw is swollen shut for almost a week.

41. I don’t like matzah balls (gasp! I know, I should be ousted from the Jewish community).

42. Clowns creep me out. I’m not scared of them so much as they just give me an uneasy feeling.

43. This got worse after my brother and I saw Killer Klowns From Outer Space when we were little.

44. My first boyfriend was almost 3 years younger than me.

45. Every guy I’ve dated was raised Catholic. Only one of them stuck with it though, and he was an enormous asshat

46. One of my favorite pieces of jewelry was a gold claddagh ring given to me for my birthday. The heart was my birthstone (emerald). I don’t wear it anymore, but I still have it, along with my high school class ring.

47. I didn’t know I had an allergy to cherries and nectarines until after I quit smoking. I used to smoke so much that sometimes my food tasted odd or my mouth would tingle. When my tongue and throat began to get itchy and feel swollen, I figured it was because smoking had damaged my taste buds. A month after I quit I ate some cherries and my throat and tongue swelled up and got very itchy.

48. Actors I think are hot: Toby Maguire, Jake Gyllenhaal, Gary Sinise, Kiefer Sutherland (circa 1986)

49. Someone once asked me, if I were to have sex with an actress, who would I pick. This was a tough one. I’m heterosexual, 100% and the thought of being with another woman does absolutely nothing for me. In fact, it does opposite things for me. But after several years of thought, I have an answer. Katherine Zeta Jones.

50. I failed my driving test the first two times.

51. My first job was at Long John Silver’s Sea Food Shoppe

52. My normal resting body temperature is 97.6 degrees Fahrenheit (36.4 in Celsius)

53. My hair didn’t get curly until I hit puberty.

54. My curly hair was the bane of my high school existence.

55. I’ve had recurring nightmares about going to school and realizing I am missing an article of clothing (i.e. panties, shirt) and I have to go search the school to find it.

56. I’ve had recurring nightmares about being chased by Nazis.

57. I played soccer for 9 years and a half season of rugby in college.

58. The rugby team hazed me worse than my sorority, which is why I only hung around for half the season.

59. I tried out for an improve comedy group in college and was offered a spot in the troupe, but I turned it down because I was busy with rugby.

60. Two of my favorite movies are Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal.

61. These have been favorite movies since I was 5 years old, along with NIMH and The Neverending Story.

62. I used to date a guy who played drums with a guitar player at my favorite bar in Indiana, PA. If I hung around till the end of the set and broke stuff down I got free Guinness and whiskey all night. I also got to feel kinda cool.

63. As a graduation gift to the guy I secretly arranged for my one sorority sister to record the two of them playing for a “classroom assignment.” The recording took a month or so and everyone knew what was going on except for the guy (hi M. If you’re reading this). He said it was the coolest thing a girl had ever done for him. So again, I got to feel kinda cool.

64. Favorite drinks: Margaritas, Yuengling Lager, Crown Royal and ginger ale, Guinness (but only in Ireland), and recently I tried a few Belgian beers that I can see becoming favorites but I’m blanking on names right now.

65. I love sweatshirts!

66. A lot of the time I avoid sleeping because I feel like I’ll miss out on something.

67. I’ve lived in Pittsburgh (or within an hour of Pittsburgh) my whole life.

68. I’m named after my late grandpa Ken and my great great grandmother Mildred.

69. My middle name is Michelle.

70. I’ve always considered using Michelle as a pen name because it sounded more mature and feminine (in my opinion).

71. When I told CB my middle name he made it very clear he liked my first name and not my middle name. I don’t think I’ve heard that from anyone but my parents (well, they like my middle name, obviously, but I think those are the only 3 people that have ever said the liked my name)

72. I have a teddy bear collection that has been accumulating since I hit the bear in my car. I either receive or buy for myself, a bear every year, usually in the summer, commemorating my ursine incident.

73. I have a strong interest in Arthurian legend and literature.

74. I also have a strong interest in Irish history and mythology.

75. I love burning incense and candles, but I haven’t in a long time cause I’m afraid Rex will set himself on fire.

76. I played the flute in 5^th grade, but quit when I found out they wouldn’t let me switch to saxophone in 6th grade.

77. I sang in several school choirs after I quit the flute.

78. While I loved singing, I often regret not learning to play an instrument.

79. My choir director was probably one of the most influential people in my life.

80. Another one is my dad.

81. I just don’t find Borat to be funny.

82. I tried teaching myself to play the feadog after I went to Ireland.

83. I got pretty good at playing Molly Malone before life got in the way (as usual) and I quit trying.

84. CB has been looking into djembe lessons for me, but it’s a more advanced skill level than I can do, especially in another language.

85. I really do want to learn to play a djembe eventually.

86. I’d also like to learn to play a bit on the guitar, but I think we’re entering wishful thinking at this point.

87. I got contacts because I hate my glasses.

88. I’m usually too lazy to put my contacts in, unless I plan on wearing makeup.

89. I have never seen The Sound of Music all the way through.

90. I have never seen The Usual Suspects because my dad told me who Keyser Soze was, not realizing I hadn’t seen it yet.

91. I cried almost every day of the two weeks I spent in Belize.

92. I also found out that, in general, Belizean Mennonites are some of the rudest people I’ve ever met.

93. I have been to more funerals in my lifetime than weddings

94. I have yet to meet anyone famous, unless you count Jerry Olsavsky from the Pittsburgh Steelers, and I don’t.

95. I fall asleep at Phantom of the Opera, it bores the everloving crap out of me.

96. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin, Ben Folds Five, Fuel and The Cranberries before they were cool.

97. I, unfortunately, have never been, nor will I ever be cool.

98. So it’s a good thing I find certain geeky Belgians to be incredibly attractive.

99. I have found out tonight that it is incredibly difficult to think of 100 things about one ’s self.

100. Also lately, I find that I’m overusing the words “incredibly” and “ridiculous.”

Ok, this sort of sucks, but here’s what’s going on and an explanation for the crazy title up above. My brother asked me at dinner if I wanted to see Beowulf tonight in 3-D at the local Imax.

squeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

Well duh, I’m an English minor who reads at least a book a week. See one of literature’s very first written works brought to life by the magic of CGI? YES! yesyesyesyesyes! So, unfortunately, we’ll be leaving pretty soon and I’m not going to have much time to blog. This, I’m sure you realize, should not classify as suckage. Not having time to blog for hours is good. It means I have some semblance of a life. Sort of. However, this is my centi-post (100th post if you don’t know). I have been thinking about it for a week now and I was going to post 100 things about me. So…centi-post or Beowulf….

Apologies, my dearest following, for I will have to choose going out to see a movie over making my 100th post the way I had wanted it to be. I have only gone out socially about 4 times this year, so I really need to do this to feel like a normal human being. Plus I want to spend time with my kid brother before the big move.

Today is Veteran’s Day and I think a lot of people don’t truly understand the concept of what the day is supposed to be for. We all know Memorial Day is the day to celebrate those defenders of our country who have fallen, but Veteran’s Day is to celebrate those men who served our country and survived the trials and difficulties during times of war. I wanted to post In Flander’s Field but I saw that poem several times throughout my blogging excursions of the day. So instead I give you a poem from one of my favorite poets, William Butler Yeats. I like this poem because it gives the perspective of a guileless soldier who realizes that he has been driven to his fate by a personal whim and now it is too late to turn back and regain all that he is about to lose. I feel we have many men and women far from home right now who are quite likely in a similar situation. I wish them all the best, as many of them have been and could still be my peers. May whatever act of fate that is guiding you lead you home; safe and wiser than you were before.

Visual Aid and really good movie to see when you get the time. It’s one of my favorites

Oh and also, this is a tribute to my Grandpa, who served in the United States Navy during WWII. I’ll save my Grandpa Ken and Uncle Jud tribute for Memorial Day, when it’s appropriate, cause see, I get this holiday.

Some anonymous someone (I know who you are now though, ha!) has been asking about the fire I had mentioned a few days ago in this post. Since I am babysitting tonight and this family has a t.v. and a computer that I have never been invited to use, I’m blogging early so as to not miss the precious midnight deadline for NaBloPoMo (although really, when you think about it, aren’t time zones rather relative in the scheme of things? I mean it’s always midnight somewhere, right? Right?!)

Anyway, here’s the story of the Great House Fire of 2005

Almost exactly two years ago, I was visiting my family’s house in Plum for Thanksgiving. We’ve been having Thanksgiving at my house for as long as we’ve lived in Plum, seeing as my mother’s birthday is the day before and it and Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday. We do the whole festive thing: turkey and stuffing, cranberries, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, (sometimes we add a kugel in there cause, well it’s Thanksgiving, but it’s a good Jewish Thanksgiving!) salad, jello mold, and lots of desserts: pumpkin pie, fruit pie, brownies, cookies, mundel bread. Then everyone goes and watches football and/or dozes off in true Thanksgiving style. We did the typical Thanksgiving thing and since it was a long weekend I decided to stay at my parents’ house the day after the holiday as well.

That night I was in the basement, surfing the Internet, chain smoking and sipping on a Pepsi, as usual. Around 3:00 in the morning I decided I was pretty tired, dumped the ashtray, turned everything off, and went up to my room. Someone called me right as I was about to go to bed and while I was lying there on my cell phone I started smelling smoke. At first I didn’t think much of it, seeing as how I’d puffed through about a pack that night, which sometimes leads to permanent smoke smell in the nose for a while. After a few minutes though, the smell started getting stronger. I was about to get up to see what it was when the smoke detectors all went off. The hall light came on and my mom came flying down the hall (in just her underwear which, in retrospect is hilarious, but obviously it wasn’t at the time) to wake me and my brother up.

Fortunately I had only taken off my shoes, so I put them on and looked up to see the smoke already flooding the second floor hallway. My brother got out of bed and the two of us ran downstairs. The first floor was already thick with smoke and you could hear sort of a roar coming from the basement. My dad pushed the basement door shut and went back upstairs to get his shoes on while Scooter and I looked in vain for a fire extinguisher (we should have had one, but trust me, even if we had, it wouldn’t have done a thing). Finally, empty handed, Scooter dashed out the front door. My mom had already run over to the neighbors to call 911 (she had tried right when the smoke alarms went off, but the phone line was already dead). I turned around and saw the basement door open. I thought my dad had gone down to try to put the fire out so I ran down about three steps before the heat and smoke hit me and I ran back out. I kicked the door shut but it blew open again so I ran upstairs, grabbed my purse and ran out the front door.

You always think ahead and wonder “if my house was on fire, what would I be sure to grab?” You make a list and think, I’ll pack an emergency kit, and these pictures have to come too, and this thing, and of course this thing….well guess what- that’s all bullshit. When your house is burning out from under you, pretty much all you can think of is how the hell you’re going to get out, and is everyone else out too.

So we all ended up standing in the neighbor’s lawn, wrapped in donated coats from the people who had woken and run out to see what was happening. We stood shivering as the flames shot out through the basement window and black soot and ash crept steadily up the cream colored vinyl siding. It seemed like hours before the fire department got there. My father stood as close to the house as he could, shoulders slumped while windows burst and 15 years of our life was turned into a charred wasteland. My mother cried and the neighbors comforted her. My brother stood close to my father, who I thought was quite literally going to have a stroke. I stood alone in the neighbor’s driveway.

It had started in the basement. There was no mistaking that.
It had started in the basement where I had been only 20 minutes before.
Smoking.
I stood, watching my house burn. My gut had plummeted and hit the cold, wet concrete and was twitching there as I thought over and over again, “I just burned our house down.”

Finally, when the fire was out and it was safe to enter, the Fire Marshall went in to find the origin of the fire. The whole time I stood alone, desperately wondering how I would ever be able to make up for what I had done, what I had destroyed by being so careless. What seemed like a lifetime later, the Marshall emerged and told my parents that the fire had started in the basement behind the drywall. There was a cordless phone downstairs and the transformer for it had been plugged into a surge strip. Apparently the voltages didn’t match and a spark in the socket had ignited a fire in the drywall. My stomach sprang back into its normal place as I breathed a sigh. It hadn’t been me. I can’t even describe the relief of knowing that.

After a while the four of us gathered what we could and got into the cars we could get out of the garage and driveway. We drove to a nearby motel. I stayed there another day or two, just being happy my family was ok. My brother stayed until he had to get back to IUP for classes (all of his clothes had been incinerated in the basement, so he got to go shopping at Walmart first) and my parents where there until their insurance company, which was excellent, from what I understand, was able to put them in an apartment until the house could be fixed. The basement was pretty much gone, as was the kitchen and family room, which had pretty much melted. The rest of the first floor and the second floor and attic were filthy and covered with smoke damage. Fortunately, much of what was on the top floor was salvaged, although we did lose a few things (i.e. the wooden duck I made my dad in shop class), but the real hit was in the basement. My great aunt had recently passed away and a lot of her things were in the basement waiting to be stored or given to other relatives. All of that is gone.

On the bright side, because of their insurance policy, my parents were basically able to rebuild the house, they had the technology. It was better than it was before. Better, stronger, faster.

And we were okay, which is the most important thing of all. So every year, when Thanksgiving rolls around, I guess we have an even greater reminder of the things that we have to be thankful for.

I know you have all been on the edge of your seats wondering what my dad requested for a blog post, and even if you haven’t, tonight you’ll find out. When asked, “Hey Dad, if you could read about anything on my blog, anything at all, what would you want to read?” And his answer was:

“Memories from Beacon Hill? That would be nice.”
Beacon Hill is the housing plan I grew up in until we moved to Plum when I was 9. My maternal grandparents lived in the same plan, just up the hill and around the corner. We could walk out into the backyard, look up the hill and see my grandparents waving from the back deck (this comes into play later). Anyway, my earliest memories come from our townhouse on Lighthouse Point in Beacon Hill. I have composed a list of 15 memories, some more hazy then others, and I dedicate them to you, Dad. I hope you enjoy what I was able to come up with.

1. Scooter’s bedroom had green walls. Not an attractive sea foam or a trendy lime, oh no, this was pea soup green paint partnered with a wall papered in white with primary colored stripes forming this sparse plaid type pattern. Scooter’s Room = fugly.

2. My bedroom had pink walls with pink floral wall paper (the first thing I asked for in the new house was for a paint color other than pink for my room). I remember the closet had white metal doors that I always felt were too loud if you shut them so they latched correctly. I had a convoy of G.I. Joes in my closet alongside three stables of My Little Pony. Everything else was kept in my Strawberry Shortcake toybox. My Room = uberpoufy

3. There was a beat up old orange recliner in my parents room. It was on my mom’s side of the bed and I used to curl up and sleep in it when I was still young enough to be afraid of nightmares but too old to climb in my parents’ bed.

4. I remember four games I played in the shower, one by myself, one with my dad when I was wee little, and two with my brother when we were old enough that I could bathe us both without much supervision. I had a game I called “March People March” where basically I just marched in the shower chanting “March, people, march,” like I was leading a parade. Then, I’d pretend they’d stopped marching, I’d turn around and yell “People!” in an exasperated voice. My dad would turn the pressure down on the shower head and squirt me in the face with it. I called it “Puppy” cause, I guess it felt like a puppy licking my face (see, even as a toddler I was that hard up for a pet). When I was 6 and my brother was 3 we had a version of Double Dare which mostly consisted of each of us using sopping washcloths as “pies” and hitting each other in the face. Finally I remember when my mom bought us tub crayons that were non staining, non toxic soapy crayon type things. You could draw on the tub or younger siblings. Which was awesome until the next day when we discovered said younger sib was allergic to tub crayons as was indicated in the geometrically shaped rashes all over his body (compliments of yours truly).

5. I remember my mom telling Scooter not to drive his matchbox cars on top of the end tables because it would scratch the wood.

6. Recall that back hill that we had where you could look up and see my grandparents’ house. It was seeded with crown vetch every year and it got pretty tangled. Now, as kids it would have made for a fun adventure to scale the hill to go visit Grandma and Grandpa, right? Well, not when your mother convinces you that your back hill is full of snakes and rats, just waiting for you to walk into the crown vetch so they can gnaw your ankles off. Good scare tactic. It worked for several years. Didn’t get over my fear of either until my freshman year of college. Thanks Mom.

7. Beacon Hill has a community pool where we used to go almost every day in the summer. My granparents would be there too. My grandpa used to let us “surf” on his back. He’d go underwater and we would stand on his back. Then he’d push off and swim the width of the pool underwater. And the first thing I always remember about those times was the sun shining off my Grandpa’s green enamel Chai when he came out from under the water.

8. I remember my Grandma (late Grandma, but I never think of it that way) making me her favorite lunch when I spent the afternoon at her house: cottage cheese and tuna fish with melba toast. Cause after all, what five year old child doesn’t like to eat such a fabulous melange?

9. I remember family games of Uno. It was a game we could all play together once my brother could count and it was fun to play a card game with all six of us.

10. When I was a bit older a water main in the ceiling of the townhouse broke and soaked the first floor carpeting all the way through. We had to get the whole thing torn up and replaced, which was a good thing cause the original carpet was sort of a dirt brown color. The new carpet was beige and soft and much nicer.

11. One of my fondest memories happened late one night while we were waiting for my dad to come home (this was when he used to work very late at the furniture store and didn’t get home until after 9 p.m. So, that might not be really late, but to a little kid it sure feels like it). In my life I had had 3 little teddy bears, Peaches, Patches, and Baby Bear. They were from Australia and had been given to me by my great aunt. I used to play with their fur and suck my thumb. I played with all three of them so much I wore off all the fur and much of the stitching. My mom ended up wrapping them in plastic wrap to hold them together and I couldn’t use them anymore. So, I had no teddy bears. Anyway, we were having a teddy bear day in school and I had no teddy bear to take in with me. I was pretty upset. My mom let me stay up late to wait for my dad and when he came in he was holding a white teddy bear with a little powder blue polo shirt and blue corduroy pants. His shirt said Preppy Bear, so that became his name. As far as I know, Preppy Bear is still somewhere in the house, either in one of the boxes from the fire or in the attic.

12. My dad taught me to ride a bike without training wheels in the apartment parking lot across the street. After I had accomplished this I was allowed to ride to the mail tree and back (maybe 50 yards up the street, tops).

13. The curbs in Beacon Hill were very high compared with the asphalt nubbins that serve as a guide for where to walk on the roads nowadays. Beacon Hill has sidewalks. Secure concrete sidewalks with awesome curbs. I used to walk only on those, pretending I was walking a balance beam, when we took walks around the neighborhood.

14. My late aunt used to come over and take me for walks through Beacon Hill. We would collect Halloween buckets full of buckeyes. I don’t remeber much about these walks, but I do remember my aunt every time I see a buckeye.

15. When I was five, my mom taught me to tie my shoes on a piece of cardboard that she drew a big shoe on and then put laces through.

There are a lot of other scattered odds and ends from those first years of my life that flicker through my consciousness. It happens even more since I started working with kids. Sometimes when they’re totally absorbed in playing with a cup in the sink when they should be going pee and I stick my head in the doorway, they jump three feet in the air and look at me like, “how does she always know?” And those are the times when I have to smile, remembering when I used to get caught doing little things and always wonder how my mom and dad knew everything. When Obi’s face crumples after someone tells him to be careful that he doesn’t kick one of the other kids when he tries a cartwheel, I remember what it felt like, to be so proud of something and then to be chastised for it. In my child’s mind, the words always felt so cruel. Now as an adult, I understand why people got exasperated when I cried at every little correction.

I’ve been told, quite often actually, that I have an amazing long term memory, especially for small details. I can remember books and conversations almost verbatim. Sometimes it can get me into trouble, but it has been a real advantage for me as far as having insight into the kids. And hopefully it made my dad smile too!