the shape of my world

i read so many things today that were composed of such obviously self-indulgent words that i started removing random phrases from the parts i was allowed to edit.

in my own, flat style, i'd just like to say that not 45 seconds ago i accidentally swallowed an ice cube. at first i thought i might die, but once it was down, i realized that everything was ok. what did i think about in that brief moment of panic? emily dickinson. "after great pain." not that swallowing an ice cube is painful ... or deadly. you might choke for a few seconds, but soon it would melt and the episode would be over. hopefully no one was around to see. i have a sore throat, but that's not related at all. why do you think i had ice in my mouth in the first place?

i was in ihop this afternoon when someone tripped the fire alarm. business as usual. when the alarm went off at work last week, it had barley gotten through the first buzz when all the women had grabbed their purses and headed for the stair cases where they were shoved around by the fleeing men. chivalry is dead. every man for himself. in the restaurant, tho, not one head was lifted. not one plate of pancakes had failed to be served, not one order was interrupted. even the bus boy continued picking up empty coffee cups. i guess if i had to work there, i wouldn't mind being burned alive, either.

the middle man is lonely. he passes the document from the author to the publisher and back again. and again. but even he gets complimented on his timing every now and then. it doesn't mean much.
i saw the greatest thing today. the guy in the polo shirt, khaki pants, and white saturn stopped two lanes of traffic to carry a sizeable turtle to safety. then the guy behind me honked and i had to flip him off. get over it. the light will turn green again. i promise.

pretty in pink

good news! in a merchandising ploy 50 years in the making, mattel has announced the launch of a real-person line of barbie clothing sure to please girls of all ages and make buying a swimsuit even more annoying.

"this doesn't make me look like barbie."

soon, for prices that would probably make donald trump think twice, you'll be able to fill your closet with everything that's pink and skimpy and frilly and can only be worn with high heels. i know what you're thinking: why would donald trump want to dress like barbie? well, who are you to judge anyone?

personally, i think it's a great idea. i already spend close to $200 every year on jeans [that actually fit], and i hope all clothing prices spike to compete with mattel. maybe then i'll finally be able to spend thousands of dollars a year on my wardrobe. another benefit? all of the clothing will probably have that big, red mattel logo on it somewhere. how trendy! if barbie were here right now, she'd be almost clapping her hands in excitement. we all know her arms don't bend that way.

i just hope that the clothing is well made and fastens at the back with more than just a giant strip of velcro or a solitary enormous snap or a ribbon tied at the waist. i remember the first (and last) pair of barbie sneakers i owned. barbie is constantly on her toes, so i didn't see the point. was there traction anywhere but on the balls of her feet? if so, why? so i gave up on those and usually went with the boots because they stayed on better than all the strappy heels and they were hard to lose in the carpeting ... or god forbid we were outside.

barbie sure looked good in her valentine's day gown and those streamlined white boots. ken was always embarrassed. maybe that's why they broke up.

thilly, thilly girlth

so i was at debi's a couple weeks ago and we were going through one of her old scrapbooks (that might be redundant). as luck would have it, she saved the last five or six columns that val and i had written as 17-year-olds for the albion news.

somehow (i have no idea how) we were chosen to be the northwestern high school reporters for the '93-'94 school year. maybe it was our wit ... our charm ... our good looks. but probably it was because our mothers were best friends with the editor ... who, in another twist of fate, gave me my first real job after i graduated from college and once yelled at me at work for not helping my mother around the house more.

our column was widely known for being particularly silly and packed with inside jokes that hardly anyone outside the school community (and, often, outside our own little clique) could have understood. but still, i think we had good readership ... and we were damn good that the occasional interviews with school personnel. we asked tough questions like, if louise the lunch lady could be in the winter olympics, what event would she want to compete in? we totally had the elementary school reporters beat.

i'm pretty sure we were the last set of reporters to write an extensive yet unbelievably ingenious christmas poem, and the first to ever submit our column written on toilet paper. we were also the first to write an article completely with a lisp. by the time i got to this one in the scrapbook, debi had disappeared upstairs. she should definitely go back and read it.

i clearly remember the day val and i wrote it. we were at my house. it was a sunny day after graduation. and my aunt grace was visiting. val and i were on the back deck sounding out 300-ish words, carefully replacing every "s" (and "s" sound) with a "th." i swear it took us two hours to finish. nearing the end we asked grace how to spell "auf weidersehen" with a lisp. turns out it's "auf weiderthehen."

"are you making fun of one person in particular or everyone with a speech impediment in general?" grace asked.

hmmmm ... everyone.

somehow we lucked out and never got a letter to the editor for anything we wrote ... at least not that i remember. even tho i'm sure some things deserved it. that must be how you know you're good at something.

last week i wrote about stupid high school girls ... thanks to mandy and val, i'm remembering just how stupid we were and how we paraded it in front of a town week after week after week. but at least we were clever. and by senior year i wasn't wearing a headband anymore ... well, not regularly.

my trip to target

all i needed was a box of envelopes. what i got was a box of envelopes, nail polish, mouthwash, a card, and "the big lebowski." come on, it was only $7.50. you would have done the same thing. i could have gotten "snatch" for $10, but i had to draw the line somewhere. who do i think i am? aaron?

so, what was fun was following the mini-gaggle of obviously high school girls into the store. if the requirements were height and weight, i could have fit in. but as it turns out my hair wasn't brown with blonde highlights, i didn't have it pulled into a pony tail and tied with a claire's bow, and i wasn't wearing a short jean skirt, exercise shorts, or a tank top. and i wasn't completely unaware of my surroundings.

i was, however, wearing sandals ... but they weren't black flip flops. and when i was driving, i used my turn signals. and i didn't stop where there wasn't a stop sign. and i didn't walk up to the non-automatic door and stand there for a second expecting it to open.

apparently they were there to check out coolers in the only way a high school girl knows how. "let's hang on to this one and see if we can find anything prettier." fortunately a lot of coolers were near the entrance, so i could get around them quickly.

now i'm left wondering. was i ever really like that? i mean, sure, i did a lot of giggling in my formative years. hell, i do a lot of giggling now ... depending on who's around ... and these days it's plainly called "laughing," thank you very much. i spoke with a lisp in public every now and then for no apparent reason ... participated in synchronized midnite bowling a lot ... made prank calls ... stuff like that. but at least it wasn't stupid. and i didn't have a bow in my hair.

flight 2564

leaving newark, i could have sworn i was looking at the New York skyline. how many empire state building look-a-likes could there possibly be outside new jersey? then i saw the statue of liberty.

her size (from take-off) paled in comparison to the already seemingly small skyscrapers, yet she appeared so big. so striking.

i couldn't help but think of 9/11. how could i not? this was physically the closest i'd come to it. and i was in a plane.

suddenly i didn't feel like reading skymall magazine anymore.