This pin was Gma Kelly’s. It’s one of the first things i acquired from her jewelry collection when Gpa Kelly insisted i look it over.
The weekend in Seattle was dismally rainy and very windy. Yesterday was much calmer and more pleasant. Today is dreadful again. I’m wearing a dress i usually like and which i pair with my beloved blue platform shoes; but going to class and back i’m slopping around in knee-high wellington boots, and sitting in the classroom staring at the fabric of this dress i’m coming to the conclusion that that it’s probably time to bid this 20-year-old garment good-bye because it’s too prone to wrinkling and i’m tired of taking 30 minutes to iron it.
Then class is finished1 and i’m wrapping myself up in my scarf layers for the trek across campus in the chilly rain. And what do i do?
I gash my thumb across the sharp top of this pin. Not a huge gouge, but it’s bigger than a scratch and it bled and it requires a bandage for the time being.
Just that sort of day where even beloved things scratch you when you’re least expecting it.
In a conversation about the similarity of the forests of New Zealand to the forests of the Pacific Northwest.
person: “Have you seen the ‘Lord of the Rings’ movies?”
person: “Okay, so you know the forests?”
me: “Um, which one?”
person: “You know, the forests.”
internal monologue: No, which forests? Do you mean Lothlorien? The forests surrounding Rivendell? The forest outside of Hobbiton where the Withywindle runs? Or the forests of the Ents, perhaps??
externally: [nods warily]
Back in the spring i saw this amazing post on Tumblr. The Twitter @ShakespeareSong had attempted Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop”, only to be soundly (and quite correctly!) criticized by Tumblr for not doing it in iambic pentameter, dammit. So, Tumblr being Tumblr, someone quickly fixed it:
These tags I’ll pop, and boast in rhyming verse
that what I wear puts swagger in my gait;
though twenty shillings have I in my purse,
my self-esteem and manhood both inflate
when lofty furs I purchase for a cent.
Thy grandpa’s clothes are worthy salvage, though
they smell a trifle musty. Still, I spent
much less to dress myself from head to toe.
To save or not to save? The question’s moot.
I’ll never give my coin to high-street crooks.
These dusty shelves will yield their hidden loot
to those, like me, more frugal in their looks.
Like ancient coins washed up on distant shores,
I’ll find my treasures in these thrifty stores.
But Shakespearean-esque verse is so much more satisfying if you’re able to hear it. I read it aloud and Andy said, “Oh, that makes much more sense!”
So. Here you go. (Apologies if the sound file doesn’t come thru’ on the RSS feeds.)
Comments welcome, but be kind! This is actually my 1st recording — well, this is the billionth (est.) recording of this, but this whole endeavor is my first attempt at recording/publishing. Things are a little rough. I’m still not sure i’ve gotten the input sound at the best level. I need to learn how to edit. Blah blah blah. Constructive comments are welcome, but don’t be a freakin’ asshole. I mean, OBVIOUSLY i’ve never done any acting, voice or otherwise. :P
ETA 8/29: A few more details i should have noted (i said i was new to this!):
I love pencils, but what do you do with them when they get this small? Right now the smallest still rests against against my index finger knuckle when i write, but each of these pencils is starting to get a little uncomfortable to hold. And i still cannot quite bring myself to throw them away, which is probably how i wound up with 5 of them in this state.
Why hasn’t someone invented a pencil handle that i could fit a shortened pencil into so i can still write with it until it’s down to a nub??