Friday, June 14, 2013

Five Pictures One

A friend recently posted several pictures in a sequence to which she added a little written detail. A story for each one, of sorts, or some sort of reflection on the photo itself. I like that idea. It's a neat visual/written exercise. I think I'll give it a try. Thanks, Heather!

The exercise: Five random pictures and then write something about each one. Easy enough. Whatever popped into my noggin. I started by going through and randomly selecting pictures but kept thinking, "No, I don't want to write about that!"  Which completely defeats the purpose.

The point of this is to force me to write. So, I tried again. I have thousands of photographs on my computer and probably hundreds more prints laying about. I used the highly scientific method of closing my eyes, and clicking on a file, or picking one from the stack and scanning it. I'm all about science.

 Here's what came up.

Allison at Geoffrey the Giraffe's birthday bash in 2005. She would be about three in this picture. Her hair still gets crazy like that. What I love most about Ally is that she's a kid. I mean full tilt, nothing is going to make her grow up, all out kid. She loves being a kid. Her whole day is all about just being Ally and doing Ally-things. She'll talk to a complete stranger in line at the grocery store like they're her best friend (we've always had to watch her on that one). She'll play in her own little world for hours. She creates with abandon and without fear. It's rarely about if she can do something, but always about enjoying it until it gets done.

Every day that little girl teaches me how to be a child, and when I grow I want to be just like her.

Movie Night. So, this one time, I took the girls to the movies. For three of us to watch one movie was $65. Holy crap! We still do it on occasion because, let's face it, you can't beat a movie in a good theater, but more often than not it's Movie Night at home now.  That starts with a group trip to Reasor's. Orville Redenbacher Movie Butter Popcorn is a given. A 30-minute debate on the merits of the different $1 box candies ensues and then we end up buying all of them anyway. With the movie rental, we get out of the whole thing for under $20 and have an excellent family night.


Car of the Beast! What's the fascination with all 6s. I mean I get the whole number of the beast thing. Blah, blah, blah. But that's just 3 6s. I think it's become more of a joke than a symbol now-a-days. What's it they say about the devil's greatest trick? Regardless, I can see my engine light is on. Drat. In the words of Penny from BBT, "I really need to put a sticker over that."

Next milestone on the odometer? 80085!

Friday Macfay. This would have been early in the Wrath of the Lich King xpac. Friday was taking a shot at tanking once again, hence the shield. Tanking sucks, so that didn't last long. I don't have space here to explain fully what this game means. To me, one of the most important things is the realization of the type of game we always wanted to play while sitting in front of our green and black screens and typing commands into Zork. WoW really is.

Yes, my toon on World of Warcraft is a girl. When you create a character for the first time you're presented with two options: male or female (or, the rough equivalent if you're playing an Orc). Since the game is played from behind the character in third person, I wasn't about to spend hours upon hours staring at some dude's hard roll. Blah. I do have a male character now, but he's a mage, so he wears a dress. Some dude in tight leather armor is not for me, but a crossdressing wand wielder is apparently okey-dokey. 

MacKenzie and me in the Hudson Valley around 2002. I don't know how much she remembers, but it's awesome that I got to take my perfect little girl to spend time in such a beautiful and historic place. Kenzie is smart and kind and talented. She always had been. She likes Dr. Who and music and has a curious imagination about her that is amazing and facinating.  She's truly the light of my world. I hope I can be like her every day, too.

I'll have to scan the rest of these pictures.

Now, what's up with the fucking vest, right?

Okay, so many moons ago I was dating a girl who worked at one of the shoe stores down at Utica Square back in 89 or 90-ish. Not my natural environment, of course, but The Things One Does. One day K and I are tromping around down there because apparently sitting in a shoe store mooning over a girl is "creepy and bad for business," and we round a corner and there's this new store called Banana Republic. Not to be confused with the store of the same name at the mall, which is now entirely different and lame these days. Inside the original store was all the jungle, hiking, camping, safari-style clothing and accessories you could imagine. It was awesome. In a big pile in the front of the store was a bunch of sale items. I start digging through and come up with this vest (the original one was blue). It had pockets, and more pockets, and inside the pockets . . . were pockets!  It was only $10 and since that's what I had, I bought it. I've been wearing the same style vest ever since. 

I don't fashion very well.

So, there's five. Might have to try this again.

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