Everyone in the world knows of my fascination with pneumatic tubes. Here's one from the US Postal Museum.
I like Vox. But I like my own domains better. So that's where I've gone.
- girlwonder, my personal site since 1997 (and in other forms since 1995)
- active social plastic, my blog about architecture, design, urbanism, music, literature and other more intellectual pursuits
Please visit me there!
One of my new year goals is to update more often. I haven't actually been successful with that anywhere, yet. No, wait. I did update my Livejournal with my Flickr retrospective. And I've uploaded pictures to Flickr in 2009. I guess I'm getting there.
It seems like vox.com may have done some upgrades since I was around last, so I should probably check that out. And see if anyone is active that I know. And all that other stuf. Maybe after lunch.
What part of your childhood do you miss the most?
Submitted by Maretta.
I miss the neighborhood where we lived: Macalester-Groveland in St. Paul, Minnesota. I grew up on Goodrich Avenue in St. Paul, which was walking and biking distance to all kinds of things. I had a best friend next door (Gretchen) and across the street (Krista), and other friends down the block (Krissi and Susan). The proximity to Macalester College was terrific, of course, but there was a soda fountain, good alleys for riding bikes through puddles, places to get candy and baked goods, two outstanding bookstores (Odegaard and my beloved Hungry Mind, both closed).
When we were 13, my family moved to a suburb. It was the right thing to do as far as space was concerned, but I lost all of my mobility: there was nowhere to bike, nowhere to visit, and for that matter, no friends in my neighborhood. The summer between 7th and 8th grade, I took "Acting, Music and Dance" at Macalester's TCITY (Twin Cities Institute for Talented Youth), and one day, sat down in front of my old house and just cried.
My brother Andy lives two blocks from this house now; my Dad still teaches a mile away from it at William Mitchell College of Law. Every time I visit home, without fail, I drive by it and wave. The crabtree we planted nearly dwarfs the house now; the skyline locust that replaced the elm tree after the Dutch elm disease outbreak is broad and mature. I still dream of that little house when I think of home.
If anyone sees pins based on those found in The World Ends WIth You for the Nintendo DS for sale anywhere in real life, please inform me. I know where to get Pokemon dojo pins, but these would be much nicer.
Tonight you went bike riding and went to a dark place so you could play with fireflies. They fly high up into the treetops where you can't bother them.
Remember to actually give snacks to your pets if you're going to wrap them in a napkin and take them home with you. Otherwise, your handbag will smell like french fries at the computer lab.
2,2,2,2,then 5. I'm starting from an initial test of only two, and I didn't think I'd even be able to do 13 today already.
I just got a call from my Mom that Guinness, our other dog, had to be put to sleep as well. He had a sudden liver problem and was going to need to go through far too much for an 11 year old dog in order to have a chance of recovery. So today at lunch, they let him go.
Guinness was my stepfather's dog, Skeeter was my mom's. The two lived together their entire lives. He was a Glen of Imaal Terrier, Skeeter was a PBGV: rare breeds that don't look -- or act -- at all dignified. Glens don't usually bark, PBGV's are verbal, Guinness picked up the habit. His bark was a clipped "Rrrrooo!" with a rolled R.
Guinness's job was to be alpha over Skeetie -- he shoulder-checked him into the pool, chased him from the couch, and tried without success to get Skeeter's rawhides. He was also very good at chasing raccoons up trees and keeping them there -- for hours.
My mom says that when Skeeter died, Guinness became an old man quickly. It's so sad to know that neither of them will greet me when I come home the next time. The house will be so quiet.
How old were you when you had your first "official" boyfriend or girlfriend? What was he/she like?
I guess it would have to be Bryan Iverson when I was 13, the summer between 7th and 8th grade. He was older than me -- he was 16, almost 17, and I met him at the TCITY summer school program at Macalester College. When I went to Rocky Horror for the first time, he came along and our knees touched. This was all very exciting. When I went away for a week, he wrote me letter after letter. It was great. One afternoon, I met up with him in South Minneapolis and he carried a little boom box that was playing Let It Be by the Replacements. It was the first time I heard it and it's still one of my very favorite albums today. My parents had no idea where I was and they so completely grounded me. They were ready to kill me. (I'm still sheepish writing about it 23 years later.) That was the day that I kissed him. It took about two hours before I had the guts to do it.
But for some reason, after two weeks or so, he dumped me. Maybe it was when I went to camp? He'd apparently been very into Sarah, my so-called best friend. I have some recollection that he was dating me to be around her. She and I, later that year, tricked him into coming over to her house and we both jumped out and laughed at him. He drove away. I still feel bad about that.
I burned every single one of the letters Bryan sent me using a pack of matches he gave me. I counted them off. 1. 2. 3. It's one of the biggest regrets I have: I wish I hadn't gotten rid of them.
