what would whimsy do

Let's say that you got back home late Wednesday evening from a long trip where both your husband and daughter had very bad allergies (which turned into bronchitis and other nasties), and the trip itself was amazing and crazy and wonderful and even at times mind bendingly awful--- and you are just fried fried FRIED and you find that you are returning to Seattle on the HOTTEST DAY IN RECORDED HISTORY and you walk into the house and it's over one hundred degrees INSIDE THE HOUSE, and your husband is trying to cool down the house, and you're trying to unpack just a tiny bit, and your baby daughter is wobbling around the living room like frankenstein because she is so ridiculously tired, and all you want to do is eat some dinner and lay down even though you are dripping with sweat--- what would you do?

If you were Whimsy, you would turn on a DVR'd episode of Sesame Street to keep the little one entertained, eat some dinner, and then promptly strip the baby down to her diaper so she can sleep in her Pack & Play in the middle of the living room. And then you'd go to bed.



Let's say that on Thursday morning you woke up to a house that had cooled down slightly (to a temperate 82 degrees! INSIDE THE HOUSE!) and your daughter is slightly ever-so-slightly CRANKY BEYOND BELIEF because she is over-tired and also HOT and you have a million things to get done including laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, cleaning out the cat box, yard work, and other housework-y things but it's SO DARN HOT that you can't even find the motivation to move let alone WORK and wouldn't a plastic kid's pool work wonders for both of you--- what would you do?

If you were Whimsy, you would ignore all house chores completely, sit in the dark living room with every window and drape closed, try to console the little girl as much as possible and then get crazy enough to venture out into the HEAT to go grocery shopping and ask too many stores if they happen to have any kid pools? Maybe? And then the store clerks would LAUGH IN YOUR FACE because you might as well be asking if they carry CHRISTMAS TREES in JULY with REAL LIVE ELVES FLYING AROUND ON WINGED PIGS.


Let's say that on Thursday afternoon while Alice is napping (fan going full blast directly on her person) you wander out into the FURNACE OF FIERY DEATH and find a fantastic package from the often hilarious and very sweet Shauna of Pickles and Dimes sitting on the SEETHINGLY HOT porch--- you are so excited to get it inside, and when you open it, it is filled to the gills with fantastically fun little surprises like Pop Rocks and a Slinky and a cute little notebook (with pens!) and a sweet 1001 Things to be Thankful For book and a big old tub of GUM and some bubbles for Alice and some gummy bears--- gummy bears which are so soft and glistening because they've been sitting in the heat, and you really should tear yourself away from the fun stuff because you have CHORES to do while Alice is sleeping--- what would you do?

If you were Whimsy, you would ignore the chores, lay down on your bed with a nice book and proceed to eat THREE-QUARTERS of the gummy bears.


Let's say that on Friday morning you awake to find that the heat has tapped off a bit and it's finally LIVABLE inside the house and you're really starting to feel GUILTY about not updating the blog but you still have so much stuff to process about the Denver trip, and you know that you're not going to do it justice until sometime next week but really really really you want to say SOMETHING on the blog even if it's just HI and HEY IT'S NICE TO BE BACK I MISSED YOU GUYS and also THANKS TO THE GUEST WRITERS FOR PINCH HITTING HERE ON THE CREAMERY and so you force yourself to sit down and start a blog entry and it really gets away from you on ALL KINDS OF LEVELS including WAY TOO MANY CAPS but there's only so much a person can do who is also trying to do laundry and play with a toddler and clean the house and stop herself from eating the rest of the gummy bears (down to about 20 of them left) but there's a diaper to be changed and it's just getting later and later in the morning--- what would you do?

If you were Whimsy, you'd post the thing and get back to that laundry.

So that's what this Whimsy did. And she really did miss you guys and is glad to be back. She will be much more sane after the weekend. Now. How are YOU? And what did you do this week?

the world according to... Phoebe

Let me start by staying that I am the heart and freaking SOUL of this house. You show me a cat who has more lovin' dedication to her humans, and I'll show you a cat with less of a life than I have. Let me tell you a little bit about my role as the Love Necessitator.


I don't mess around. I get the job done.

I make sure the food bowl is clean just the way Whimsy likes it. And those carbs can add up. Really, I'm overweight in the name of LOVE.

I spend hours bathing myself to reduce the excessive fur and place the tufts in small piles around the house. I look for new spots all the time. It's an excellent way to add a little flare to my humans' lives, you know? They have showers, I have a tongue. You think that's EASY? I express my love in all the small places, because it's the small things that count.

I'm ridiculously available. Like a butler. I wait at every corner for their command: Halls, Kitchen, Cat Box, Office, Stairs, etc., you get the picture.

I patrol the house, not Fergus.
Q: Who was the first to go downstairs to warn the humans of the blue goo that had erupted all over their floor?
A: ME.

Q: Who is always in the litter box when Chip comes home?
A: That's right, ME. It's the closest I can physically be to him when he opens the garage door. Sometimes he literally scares the crap out of me. And I'm willing to make that sacrifice.

Q: Who is the first one to warn off any squirrels or other cats through the window?
A: ME! You think scaredy-stripes has my kind of GUTS? My kind of serious fluvtastic girth? Clearly no.

I'm the first on the scene when there has been a food accident on the floor.

I wait for my humans in the window.

I lay on their pillow to keep them warm.

I sometimes mop the hard wood floors if I hang my fluv low enough.

When the kid, who has taken my place, pets me, I really take one for the team. Who else is going to take all that fur pulling? I just know that my stock is rising every time my humans see how kind I am to that interloper.


Every day, I make songs for my humans. I'll share my latest:

From the moment I wake up
Before I lick on my make-up
I meow a little prayer for you

I primp all my fluv now
I pick out the dreadlocks from my bum now
I meow a little prayer for you

Forever, forever, you'll stay in my heart
and I will love you
Forever, forever, we never will part
Oh, how I'll love you
Together, together, that's how it must be
To live without you
Would only be heartbreak for me

I sit on the bed
I patiently wait to lay on your head
I have some Phoebe Hat just for you

Please answer my prayer!


Okay, so it's not finished yet, but you can see a piece of the hard work that goes unnoticed around here. Granted, what I've written is a parody of Dionne Warwick's work, but she is my musical hero... her, Aretha, and Michael Jackson. Need me some soul pop. Learn it, Live it, Love it! That's my motto. That, and Everybody Wang Chung Tonight.

There is a lot of love in this Phoebe-shaped cat. Feel free to stop by, I have business cards you can give to your friends.

It's a tough job, but I have to do it.

the world according to... Stacie

Whimsy & I were set up on a play date in 1984. I say "set up" because it felt like a blind date - we didn't know each other but our Moms thought we'd have fun together and it was handy for the summer since we lived around the block from each other. Next thing you know, I was spending the night at her house almost every weekend, sliding down the stairs in our sleeping bags, playing A&S Computers (our fake business, of course) etc etc.....and the rest is history!

We used to write endless letters to each other in multiple notebooks that we'd pass back & forth or leave in each others' lockers at school. I dug one up from 1989 and noted a few of the very important things we had to discuss:

Whimsy: You & I ought to ask our parents if there's anything we could do for money. For example, we could wash windows at my house and get paid. Then we could have money for the Dream A Little Dream soudtrack! Good idea, huh?

Stacie: Remember how back in 5th & 6th grade they MADE you use cursive and we died cuz we wanted to print so bad? Now we can do whatever we please!

Whimsy: I was just talking to Chad & Mimi about PE shorts. They're yucky. PE shorts, that is.

Stacie: I'm using the markers you gave me. I love them. Thank you. Thank you for EVERYTHING. If you ever have to go into the hospital, I'll buy you lots of nice things, too.

Luckily I haven't had to make good on that last promise...but I would still buy her lots of nice things, just like she did for me!! I had to have major back surgery at the age of 14. Many of the memories are blurred or hidden away, but one thing I remember very well is when Whimsy & Momma Whimsy came to visit me in the hospital. They had all kinds of treasures to cheer me up and keep me busy. One of the gifts was a huge stuffed pig that I wanted so badly from Mervyn's. That pig was such a comfort to me for the rest of my hospital stay and I'm not kidding when I say I have slept with it ever since! That darn pig is 19 years old and in my bed right now. (P.S. Please don't tell anyone about that. It's our secret now. Thanks.)

What I'd like to say is that Whimsy is the kind of friend that will give you a pig when you really need it. And by "pig" I mean comfort, love, friendship and a smile! Anyone reading this blog knows she's an amazing woman, but I can testify that she was just as amazing as a young girl. I treasure our memories -- even when we'd bicker like sisters or when I accidentally hit her on the head with the tether ball and she ignored me until I finally just went home. HA! -- and I look forward to all the memories we still have to make!

I will leave you with a photo from the archives...

I'm honored to be part this fun series!! And yes, I have a mullet in that picture.

Love you, Whimsy!
Stacie Racie

the world according to... Kimmie

Through a fault that is ENTIRELY MY OWN, this guest post on The Creamery was written by my sister Kim (called Kimmie by me and the Little Brother), but had to be posted by me. Anyway. Written by Kimmie, but posted by me even though I wasn't going to be posting this week due to this thing we're doing over here in Denver. I sort of feel like telling you all LA LA LA YOU DON'T SEE ME, I'M JUST PASSING THROUGH! But I miss you guys, I do. So a brief highlight and then we'll get to the post by the sister: large box elder bug INSIDE MY SUITCASE just crawling around wily-nilly and a two-night stay at an actual tried-and-true working ranch with cattle and large farm equipment and no other house or sign of civilization in sight. So no sign of civilization, but SEVERAL dead animal trophy head-things on the walls. There were even two in our room. Chip worried about getting too close, for fear that the deer was going to reach out and nip him on the arm. I was thinking more along the lines of the animals coming alive like at Disneyland (a girl can hope) and starting to tell jokes. Sadly that didn't happen. I think they were very amused about the CITY FOLK. I didn't know how to refer to the dead-animal-trophy-head-things-on-the-walls so I pretty much called them that: Hey, did you guys, um, catch, all those dead-animal-trophy-head-things-on-your-walls? Yes? Well wow. That's...cool. We've now left the ranch behind and are staying up in the mountains for the next few days at a huge YMCA complex. It's rustic and see above with the bug INSIDE MY SUITCASE. I have my doubts about my ability to cope with roughing it.



Now. Written by the sister:

Well, my sister asked me to post something and at first I thought it would be easy-peasy but I am finding that it is rather difficult.

Have you ever wondered why you were here? What is your purpose? Just kidding!! However, I have been wondering what things are going to be like for my kids when they get older and are building their own lives. In thinking about this, I had many flashbacks to when I was younger. My favorite things to do were roller skate, play barbies, and play in my little kitchen that my dad made for me. My youngest daughter C likes to point out that I had a lot of "fun" things when I was little. And you know what, I did, and they were fun! My friends and I would skate for hours around the blocks, and on the "smooth street", we would cross the overpass and go visit friends on the other side of town. Robert, Cheryl, and I would collect soda bottles, load them in the wagon and walk to Mitchell's Liquor Store to cash them in. Then we would buy licorice or bubble yum. We would ride bikes for hours every single day, swim, play ditch on the weekends and jump neighbor's fences hiding in their backyards. No one ever called the Police. This wasn't back in the 1950's, it was in the 1970's and early 1980's. Crazy to think about how things are different now.

I had given B the idea to invite a group of kids over and play ditch or kick the can one evening and she looked at me like I was speaking a different language. I promptly looked the games up on the internet and printed them out for her so she could get a better picture of how we played them since my explanation just wasn't cutting it.

Summer always brought trips to the beach and mom would buy grape Shasta soda, what a treat! We would travel to Utah and Idaho to see family. I would look out the car window and see the dark sky with white dots EVERYWHERE and then be amazed as we approached Las Vegas to see the glow of the city lights. The other night, I was swimming with R and B. We were looking at the stars in the sky. We could see the Big Dipper and a very few others. B was amazed at my description of the night sky when I was younger. They can kind of get a glimpse of it now when we visit Grandma and Grandpa in Utah.

We just took a trip to Utah in our minivan and I found myself longing to listen to the Mamas & the Papas, the Carpenter's, Elton John's "Rocketman", and John Denver. I did have some Carpenter's music loaded on my MP3 that my kids navigated through, but I missed the others. Maybe Whimsy remembers sitting in the greet station wagon and singing "Grandma's Featherbed" or "Rocketman" or "Monday, Monday" (Whimsy note: yes, yes, and certainly yes.) My kids laugh at me when I sing the songs but amazingly they all start joining in with me. Funny how I want them to have as many good memories growing up as I did.

While we were at Grandma's house, B & T were looking at old pictures of us as kids. Pictures of Whimsy and Steve (Whimsy: that would be The Little Brother) - and Whimsy didn't look much bigger than he was. Pictures of all of us dressed in Halloween costumes. They even recognized the Indian costume because they have worn it! C was pretty surprised that Whimsy also wore my cheerleading uniform as a costume. Yeah, to be that little again and fit into my high school Cheer uniform... that would be AWESOME! Yet a little impractical. One really can't wear cheerleading uniforms everyday especially with four kids on an outing to the grocery store.

How amazing, wonderful, and beautiful things are through a child's eyes or even an adult's childhood memories. I can only hope that things are just as great for my kids as they were for me. I know they will be immensely different, but still good memories nonetheless. I think we can be creative and have just as much fun with our kids as we did when we were kids.

-Kim




Whimsy note: I should let this speak for itself because it's lovely, but I'm surprised Kimmie didn't tell you what a PAIN I was when we were kids --- busting into her bedroom, putting on her perfume, playing with her clothes. I suppose she knows I've got some stuff on her, too, so she decided to play nice. And she did. So I can too, and tell you all that we really did have a close-to-idyllic childhood. One of my favorite memories? Watching Kimmie and all the older neighborhood kids decide to play Charlie's Angels. AWESOME.

the world according to... Fergus

Notes from my daily routine


4:00am
Rose from bed for 4am house patrol. Retrieved payoff from local spider union (hidden under front doormat).

4:05am
Left note for local spider union that their dues will need to increase; the humans are growing suspicious about my lack of interest in the 8-legged creatures and are starting to demand that I take action.

4:20am
Opened closet doors to gently remind entire household of my presence (note for next closet-opening expedition: downstairs closet needs extra paw pull).

4:25am
Very successful early morning purging hairball vomit (cleans out the system and reminds humans of my love). Today's location: outside of Chip's closet, he's going to love that.

4:30am
Kicked Phoebe off bed.

4:31am
Early AM nap in Phoebe's sleeping place.

5:50am
Cleaned stripes.

6:00am
Jumped on Whimsy's feet to greet Whimsy and Chip with beautiful freshly maintained stripes.

6:05am
Demanded adoration. Used necessary force (i.e. extended kneading claws and used special vocalizations learned from daily vocal exercises - both very successful, will use these tactics again tomorrow).

6:27am
Panicked when Chip discovered early morning purging hairball vomit a full hour before plan... with his foot. Retreated under bed and pushed Phoebe into his view, telling her that Chip had a special treat for her. She continues to be the perfect scapegoat and easily took the blame.

6:31am
Sauntered out from under bed, reminding Chip with a small purrdle that I continue to be the Perfect Cat.

7:23am
Breakfast (crunchies, water, a few morsels of fur)

8:12am
Found area in sunny window in which to bask and share my glorious visage with the world.

8:17am
Mid-morning nap

10:02am
Mid-morning after nap poop - encouraged Phoebe to go right after me, telling her I'd left a special treat waiting for her inside the box.

10:48am
Deposited whiskers in couch cushion.

10:52am
Located Whimsy's credit card.

11:04am
Worked on shopping list for tomorrow's expedition to Target (list items so far: mouthwash, hair gel, catnip)

11:47am
Kicked Phoebe off bed in studio

11:50am
Early afternoon nap

1:01pm
1pm house patrol: all is well; successfully shielded a spider and her 14 children from Whimsy's sight.

1:43pm
Reopened all closet doors (why don't they thank me for this service?)

1:50pm
Perched inside linen closet and deposited ample fur on clean sheets.

2:00pm
Lunch (crunchies, water fresh from bathroom faucet).

2:40pm
Late afternoon nap.

4:35pm
Allowed Alice to view my striped tail and spotted belly. Reminded her there will be NO TOUCHING. She seems to understand the training. I am beginning to have some hope for the child.

5:10pm
Found Whimsy in kitchen to demand much-needed adoration.

5:59pm
Very satisfying pre-dinner poop.

6:28pm
Lounged gracefully on top of family room leather chair.

6:32pm
Practiced disdainful stare (really coming along now, but still needs work).

7:10pm
Once Alice is in bed, arranged self outside her bedroom for vocal exercises.

7:13pm
Narrowly avoided flying objects and fled scene quickly when Whimsy started brandishing large sticks in my direction while hissing (SSSSSSSSSTOP IT!). Note for future: must find way to get Phoebe blamed for vocal exercises. Research this.

8:02pm
Roused Phoebe to help with evening demand for treats. She was particularly difficult this evening - perhaps the cat box "surprise" was a bit too much. Must find way to both torture and goad her in the future without seeming guilty.

8:12pm
Demanded nightly treat. Very impressed with Phoebe's vigor, given her earlier reluctance to help.

8:14pm
Once administered, gobbled nightly treat with a helping of regular crunchies. Very successful. I was able to swallow every treat WHOLE without breaking a single one. Must use this particular gulping and slurping method again tomorrow night.

9:02pm
Followed Whimsy around house, actively offering help in her cleaning tasks by sitting on exactly the one thing she was working on / needed / wanted to dust / etc.

10:32pm
Deposited nightly treat in pre-determined vomit location for perfect regurgitated early morning surprise for Chip's feet (he'll thank me later). Artfully done tonight in a perfect circle - very proud.

11:00pm
11pm house patrol: all is well; removed Phoebe from nap spot on couch. Told her Whimsy wanted to see her upstairs, on the bed, up by her face.

11:07pm
Retired to foot of Whimsy's bed for evening nap, just in time to watch Chip kick Phoebe off of Whimsy's pillow.

Perspective from an altitude of 6'2"

My wife writes things about me. It’s funny sometimes to see her perspective on our conversations after I have separated myself from being in the moment. I thought I would set a few things straight, and give you insight to the part-time whimsical muse.

Just about anyone who I have spent more than 20 minutes with, I remember.

I see a lot of strange and interesting things in my travels. Today I saw an elderly man who was turning into the Walmart parking lot off of Hwy 99. He was using hand signals while making the turn, in his motor-powered wheelchair. (Though a motor-powered wheelchair resembles a Smart Car,… it is not)

I don’t understand people who think that growing out as much facial hair as they possibly can makes them more sexy. Especially the young skinny mousy dudes. Do these people realize that the “Goatee” was named after the facial hair of a goat. (I bet the term got started when someone made fun of a young skinny mousy dude calling him a goatee)

Purell is so important to the whole world

Realtors who need a GPS device to plan out their day make me nervous about their knowledge of the areas they serve. I feel the same way about any professional that uses equipment for stuff they ought to know and do (IE: steroids, calculators for simple math, or anything that makes a person look incompetent for the job they are getting paid to do)

I do not understand Mosquitos or deep sea creatures with the huge gaping teeth

I believe in aliens,… but I think they are about as clueless as we are,… think about it. (The first thing we do when going to the moon or landing on Mars is we collect samples. We look for life as we know it, and not how it could actually be)

The above statement is more of a side note about me, and not a defining characteristic. However knowing something like this can give a person insight to the conversations that happen around our house every now and then

I need goals, otherwise I wouldn’t get anything done.

I grew up with a park out front of my house,.. I venture to say that park saved my life

Some of you know me, and some have gotten to know me by the small excerpts that Whimsy has deemed worthy to quote. When we talk about my personal life before I met her, my wife refers to me as the “Serial Dater” which I have to agree with. My relationships never lasted more than 2 straight months, with very few exceptions. I really felt I had an unreasonable expectation when it came to women, but mostly I couldn’t believe that anyone would want me for more than a small amount of time. So when I met Whimsy, it happened quick, it happened respectfully, and within 4 months we were married. I felt like I had known her forever. I never got butterflies, the first kiss felt natural like we had finally achieved recognition. I didn’t feel like I was going to die without her, however it didn’t feel right not being next to her. Still to this day I am myself around her,.. only I’m my better self. I value a number of qualities.

Whimsy is Beautiful, and she is semi graceful in heels
Whimsy is honest and sincere
She is a true friend, and would blindly defend her friends even if they were wrong
She is never bored, mostly because she has always got something going on
She has a world of experience, but lives for the simpler life
She thinks of others almost 95% of the day. If she is busy, it’s normally in some type of service to another
She is an artist, with a vocabulary and composition that is equally creative
She is a natural when it comes to being a mom.
I love the way she sings, and she sings to Alice every night
She believes everything I say, which means I push myself to be the man she deserves
She is patient and enduring
She challenges me, and I dig that
I am and will continuously strive to be a better man, because that's what she does for me as a woman and mother
She is my soul mate, and I never thought that existed. (Aliens yes, Soul Mates no… go figure) I’m a believer

All the girl-stuff, and mental excess that comes with being married, or being in a relationship, is worth the price of my efforts and more. You can’t have the good without the bad, otherwise a person would create good and bad for balance sake. However at first what I felt was compromise, has turned into acceptance. She would have done well without me, and I never forget that.

grade 12: where are they now?

In which Whimsy predicts the whereabouts and vocation of many of her high school classmates. Also her brain explodes from all this intense introspection.


Which brings us to senior year... a short explanation: after three years of basic avoidance of any and all school activities (except for debate), our heroine decides to Get Involved and runs for a student government office (Director of Performing Arts). It wasn't even just a lark-let's-run-for-student-government-and-then-not-do-anything-if-I-get-elected thing. I had a platform. ANYWAY. I got elected. I had fun. I met people. I fulfilled my campaign promises (held arts events on campus! poetry reading! film festival! there was a prize: THE GOLDEN DONUT!). Anyway, that's your brief glimpse into dorky high school Whimsy.

Moving on.



whimsy,
hello! how are you? i'm really glad i got to met you in executive. you've been such a caring person to everyone. keep on smiling. good luck in college.
(heart),
laura
director of pep

Whimsy's career prediction for Laura: Public relations.



Dear Whimsy,
Well it's been tons of maniacal fun knowing you. You are such a sweet person. Thanks for listening to me when I had all those problems (i.e. about Kim). Whimsy, I hope some day you find a real good man and marry and raise kids. Maybe some day our paths will cross again, but if they don't, take care.
Love and best wishes in both life and love,
The One & Only Zack
P.S. I hope you can read this!

Whimsy: Well our friend The Zack is back. This time a much more tempered and humble Zack. A Zack that has seen another year pass him by without receiving any notification from "Kim" that she returns his deep love. Poor Zack. Isn't it UNCANNY that he predicts I will marry a good man and raise kids? It's like he's SEEN MY LIFE or something. Except the part about "kidS" seeing as how we're just currently raising one. His mention of kids makes it sounds like we should be raising sugar beets or barley or something.
Whimsy's career prediction for Zack: Hair stylist. He was always much too preoccupied with hair: be it mine in junior year, or this Kim, who was a blond. He was very interested in her hair.



Hi Whimsy!
It's been a pleasure knowing you this year. Too bad I didn't have a lot of time to get to know you better. Cheers! Anyways, you're a sweet & terrific friend, debater, and captain! Congratulations for making it through four whole years of high school. Best of luck in whatever you do. I'm sure you'll be very successful! C-U around whenever & wherever. Keep in touch!
Always,
Kathleen
(includes address)

Whimsy: I'm not sure if I can venture a career prediction for Kathleen, since I remember her (say it with me now) NOT AT ALL. But I'm sure she's very successful!



Well, well, well. Whimsy, it's been a long six years to be in school with you. Not that it has been boring but all those years were just long. You were one of the people that made every year endurable. Ever since sixth grade, you were one of the welcoming faces that made me comfortable. Now I look at you, and I see a real woman in front of me. Try real hard to be that role model that you are to so many people. Good luck in school, life, and everything else.
Brian

Whimsy: A genuinely nice guy, this Brian dude. And I am choose to believe the "woman" comment isn't The Randy, it's just him being a geriatric senior. (Why is it that even now, a 17/18-year-old kid calling another 17/18-year-old kid a "woman" sounds a little ...off?) ANYWAY. Brian was a very nice guy. And is still a nice guy, because he wrote me on Facebook just last week. Out of the blue. I would tell you what he's doing now, but I don't know. Because I haven't written him back yet. Brian is probably in mid to upper management at a large corporation. Or a dentist. I don't know why.



Whimsy---
I must say for not being a cheerleader you have so much school spirit. Thanks for all your support! I hope you enjoyed McCrea's class as much as I did!! I wish I had been on Executive with you! Good luck! KIT! (includes phone number)
Michelle

Whimsy: Unlike yours truly, Michelle was a cheerleader. My prediction: Michelle is now enjoying a fulfilling career in anything besides career counselor or human resources. I did not have any school spirit. None. I sort of hated my school. But I really did like McCrea's class.



Dear Whimsy,
(written over a large picture of people I don't remember) Well I really hope that I'm not writing over friends of yours1 Sorry if I am. Well I've only known you for two years and have had but one class with you... not to talk about the bad things which have happened int he past, but I truly hated Mr. Abbott... he was the worst teacher in the history of teachers. What class was that? oh yeah, CHEMISTRY!!! The only class in which the highest grade I received was a C. Anyway, you've been the greatest friend to me. You took time out of your extremely busy executive schedule to make beaded flower bracelets for me. THANX! You also helped me with chemistry. Remember the attempted studying you, Xochitl, and I did at my house? Anyway thanks for being a great friend. I hope you're successful & prosperous in everything you do. Have a bright future! Love & friendship,
Dariya
KIT (phone number)

Whimsy: And we've got Dariya mentioning the beloved CHEMISTRY again. It was pretty much as bad as she says, sorry to admit. But are we detecting any sarcasm about the busy executive schedule? Also: I HAVE NO MEMORY OF GOING TO HER HOUSE TO STUDY. None at all. And I think I'd remember going to someone's house... anyway. I predict Dariya found her vocation in fashion design. She was also a part-time swim instructor.



Whimsy,
You are an awful friend...
NO!
You are an acquaintance...
NO!!
You are an above-average friend...
NO!!!!
You are an AWESOME friend...
Yessssssss...
Come back and judge. Maybe I'll fondle a magazine for ya.
Luv & friendship,
Albert
P.S. State was fun! (faith in Randy & New Dick's)

Whimsy: Chock full of inside jokes that I sort of remember... but Albert was a super-smart young dude who was on the debate team with me. In this case, I was the geriatric senior. I'm sure I gave him smarmy advice. And then told him to go away. Now? Whimsy's prediction for Albert is that he is a very fancy attorney who is making his way into politics. Though a future in magazine publishing is also a possibility. (the fondling thing just is... weird)



Whimsy,
This is not my pen. Bye, Kim.
Ha ha! You thought that was all, but you're wrong. I'm really glad I got to know you because you're really sweet---and dedicated. You put up with a lot in Arts Committee, but I'll have you know that was my favorite club because believe it or not I think we actually accomplished things (does that give you any idea of how bad the other clubs I'm in?). Keep in touch and I hope you had fun trying to read this.
Love,
Kim

Whimsy: Please note this is NOT the "Kim" of The Zack's previous notes. Different Kims, folks. This one was very nice. And quite the comedian!



Whimsy (full name, middle name, last name),
I'm very proud to be signing Whimsy Full Name Middle Name Last Name's yearbook. After all, you're the only Whimsy Full Name Middle Name Last Name on earth... That shows just how special you are. You'll probably take your special "Whimsyness" to the university of life! I'll miss you so much... when you're on the NY Time bestseller list and I'll write asking for 10% of royalties for some traumatizing experience in high school--- you better give it to me! Your debating butt won't save you then!!!
Adieu,
Kia

Whimsy: She really liked my name. A lot. But she was really sweet. I happen to know, through comment sources that she is an environmental engineer (or something fancy along those lines). It makes sense. Very earthy girl, our Kia.



Whimsy,
Are you scared about being commencement speaker? I sure am. I'm scared to reveal myself to the entire senior class! I'm so glad we were on Exec together. It was a great way to get to know you. And I'm glad you like U2 also. You're such a cool person because of it. Wasn't the concert the greatest, most memorable experience of your life? It was for me. And isn't Bono a babe? Larry Mullen is, too. Hee-hee. Don't eat too many Keebler elf snacks. Pretty soon your voice will start changing and you'll start growing pointy ears.
Hoping you'll remain human,
Sandra (hearts) Bono

Whimsy: Sandra clearly became a dietitian.



Have a great year, enjoy college, and have a nice peaceful life.
Your friend,
William

Whimsy: William went on to become a very successful speech writer.




Annnnnnd that ends our tour through Whimsy's high school yearbooks. There are thoughts to be shared, and things to talk about, and ruminating to do. But the Whimsy is FRIED. Also, she is now headed off to Facebook to see if she can track down her debate partner who wrote such a long yearbook note (SIX PAGES, I'm not kidding - in TINY WRITING), it is making the Whimsy feel bad that they lost touch.

See you on the other side, kids. Tomorrow: the first installment of THE WOLRD ACCORDING TO...

the world according to... whimsy

Edited to swap out the picture... figured since it's my world we're talking about, you should probably be looking at my lovely image. Not that it really is lovely. This is a TEETHING day and the Whimsy Family isn't feeling the joy right now.



In my world there are two kinds of people:
Holders and Goers. I'm a holder.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Early risers and stay-up-laters. I'm a stay up later.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Cilantro lovers and cilantro haters. I'm a hater.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Planners and last-minuters. I'm a planner.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Chocolate and vanilla. I'm vanilla.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Right now and later. I'm right now.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Up now and snoozers. I'm a snoozer.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Makers and fakers. I'm a maker.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Watchers and readers. I'm a reader.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Pickers and ...not pickers. I'm a picker.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Speed racer and speed limit. I'm speed limit.

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Salty and sweet. I'm sweet (not a statement about disposition, clearly).

In my world there are two kinds of people:
Those who would read to the bottom of this list and those who wouldn't.
I stopped halfway through.



Which brings me to - upcoming events at The Creamery. I didn't have the energy to do the last yearbook post... yet. It's coming. Probably tomorrow. The reason for my ambiguity is that we're in the last stages of getting packed and ready to take a trip to Denver (leave on Wednesday afternoon). We'll be gone for a week. It's sort of a hugely momentous trip but I'm not quite ready to talk about it yet (preview: I will be meeting the entire extended branch --and roots and twigs and tiny little bitty buds-- of my birth family). I'm going to talk about it when I get back.

In the meantime, I realize I've been a little unfair to a few individuals here at The Creamery. Every day you tune in here and get to hear my side of the story, my life and the individuals in it, from my own perspective. In an effort to be more fair and equitable (heh), I'm handing The Creamery over to some of those individuals. Over the course of the next week, you'll be hearing from each of them, in their own words. Hopefully it'll be fun. It will also be at times EXCRUTIATING for yours truly.

Now. If I'm a holder, a stay up later, a cilantro hater, a planner, a vanilla-er, a right now-er, a snoozer, a maker, a reader, a picker, a speed limit-er, a sweet-er --- what are YOU?

grade 11: enter THE PAIN

You will never know the depths of my love for you, I'm telling you now. I take bullets for you, Internets. I share secrets and deep-dark-embarrassing moments for you. I talk about my husband and cats and my scrumptious daughter for you. I even, and this is huge, I even buy ICE CREAM for you.



The siren song of the Haagen Daz Five Brown Sugar finally won me over.
And so I bought it.
And I ate it.
And it was good.

My review: it's like any specialty ice cream - best in small doses because a huge bowl of this stuff would just be all over TOO MUCH. But as it is, in smallish 1 scoop - 1 1/2 scoop increments, it's delish. Absolutely fantastic. Rich and molassas-y. It's like dishing yourself a spoon of fluffy brown sugar and mixing it with straight cold CREAM. A yum in my book.

Other things I do because I love you so much? I delve into my painful high school years and share nothing less than YEARBOOK NOTES. See? That's devotion. That's love.

When I wrote the first entry in this train wreck of a yearbook series, I had already filed Chip's response in my head - what I knew he was going to say to me once he read those first yearbook comments, and it was something along the lines of THERE SURE ARE A LOT OF GUYS THAT ARE SAYING STUFF LIKE WISH I'D GOTTEN TO KNOW YOU BETTER YOU'RE THE SWEETEST GIVE ME A CALL SOMETIME K.I.T!!!!! Which is pretty much what happened. But even better was this conversation that happened afterward:

Chip: Actually, it's totally a guy thing to do.
Whimsy: What is?
Chip: Getting up the courage to finally say the thing that they've wanted to say all year long.
Whimsy: In a YEARBOOK? You're telling me that these are actually a bunch of little pick-up lines, IN A YEARBOOK?
Chip: Yep. It's the end of the year. They're feeling brave. And randy.
Whimsy: What is the expected outcome of such bravery? Was I supposed to write something back? In their yearbook? I can see it now, Hey So-and-So--- I just read what you wrote in my yearbook. I've been totally thinking the same thing about you! All year long! Let's go make out.
Chip: I see your point. I didn't say we guys were smart about it. It's just what we did.

So I should warn any of you who are thinking of digging into those old high school treasured comments of YOU'RE THE BEST! SO GLAD WE HAD CHEMISTRY TOGETHER! YOU'RE SWEET! K.I.T! Beware of THE RANDY. It's out there, in some form or another, waiting to take you back to braces and scrunchies and who was that guy anyway?



Without any further delay, let's dive into JUNIOR YEAR: ENTER THE PAIN.


Whimsy,
It's been great having you as a lab partner and a classmate in chemistry. I hope I see you next year and good luck in the future.
Your friend,
David

Whimsy: Again - I was NOT a good lab partner. Particularly in chemistry. But that David dude, he sure was COMPLIMENTARY. And also generic. How many notes did I write like this, thinking Um, I don't know what else to say so I'm gonna thank them for being in class with me.



Dear Whimsy (or Miss Crippled Hand J/K!),
It's finally over. Chemistry, that is! We'll be seniors next year and we can leave this cesspool of unhappiness. I had such a hard time in chemistry, I could cry. It's good we became friends because you can really make me laugh. I think we should be called THE GAP TWINS. I mean, we do live in The Gap, don't we? I"m just glad I know someone who likes that beautiful place as much as I do. I hope you have a very peachy summer and buy tons of clothes. Go swimming, too! I must tell you that the next time I see you driving, I'll get out of the way! See ya next year! Love ya lots!
Your friend,
Dariya

Whimsy: And so begins the can of worms about my driving skills (or lack thereof). See, I broke my hand my junior year of high school. Which isn't the big news. The big news is how I did it... I sort of crashed my dad's Acura. Into a Winnebago (that's a very large MOTORHOME, folks). That was, um, sort of parked just three doors down from my house. The best part? Someone in my English class just happened to be walking down my street when it happened. And he saw the whole thing. AND THEN TOLD PEOPLE ABOUT IT. Also: what's up with the random comment about SWIMMING? I don't get it either.



Dear Whimsy,
Well it's over. You're a sweet woman but you don't know how to drive. Take care and God bless.
Love,
Greg

Whimsy: Um. The Randy pick-up / total put-down?!?! Whatever.



Hey Whimsy! How do you like my markers? Pretty cool, huh? Well, I don't want to say goodbye, but I may never see you again. I really didn't like french class. You, Edith, Ngoc, and Tiffany made it exciting and fun. I'll always remember talking about Ms. Carr and I don't have to get into that. Thanx for being there. I hope your senior year is as memorable as mine.
(unreadable signature)

Whimsy: Thanx for that note, unreadable dude.



Dear Whimsy---
Hi! You know what? I have nothing to write to you cuz I only talk to you every single day. Well, P.E. has been a hoot. Go to page 259 real quick... (happy face) He's such a weirdo, huh. This has been a fun year. Hopefully next year can outdo this one. Well, don't be a snooty senior like XXX. It's true. Don't listen to what XXX says. p.286 please... this is my signing off page. Bye--
Love ya,
Stacie

Whimsy: This one is for you, Stacie. Yes we wrote in each other's yearbooks. And we said NOTHING AT ALL OF CONSEQUENCE. But it's still funny.



Dear Whimsy,
It sure was fun BS'ing our way through French. How much have you actually learned? How much? That's what I thought. Gosh, I wish she'd shut up! Sorry, I just had to put that in, but you know as well as I do that she talks TOO MUCH! She just did it again! I really don't know how to end this except with a cliche, so good luck on the final, have a great summer, and I'll see you next year!
Adieu,
Neil

Whimsy: I vaguely remember that this was the longest note or conversation that I'd ever had with this guy. EVER.



Whimsy---
Chemistry... the study of matter or a completely useless class in which the only thing we learned (or really remember) was the symbol for water. The world may never know, but who cares - the darn class is already over. Enjoy life now! You are FREE! Join a crusade to rid the world of chemical equations and short old men with receding hairlines who talk 10x too slow without making any logical sense at all!!!! ...or go on vacation with your family.
Your amiga,
Xochitl

Whimsy: Would you be surprised to know that I learned ANYTHING in high school at all? By the sound of these notes, I hated every class and didn't learn anything. It's not true - for the sake of future generations: IT'S NOT TRUE. I DID LEARN STUFF IN HIGH SCHOOL. AND I REALLY LIKED SOME OF MY TEACHERS. I promise. But boy, we high schoolers were mean, weren't we?



Dear Whimsy:
It was my pleasure to meet such a sweet, cute, bright person. I am sorry if at times I was a little annoying. Thanks for bearing w/me. Hopefully next year I'll have you in a class (maybe three, like this year). It would be uplifting to see your cute, smiling face as I take a killer test. Always remember the video I showed you of me doing my "Dave Gahan". Have a cool summer.
Love,
Zack
P.S. Don't be sad and don't get mad, because the Zack Man loves you. (I write sloppy.) When I listen to The Sundays I'll always remember you. Thanks for bearing w/me when I used to talk to you about Kim. And thank you for letting me smell your luxurious hair. Remember to always let your hair down, oh you little teddy bear. Remember if you need me to do anything for you I'll always be here for you. Have a great summer and I hope you have fun at the beach or wherever, because I know I will.
Love,
The Zack

Whimsy: One might have been tempted to think that The Zack had mental problems. But he was just an excentric dude. And behold THE RANDY. Actually, this isn't THE RANDY because Zack was like this all the time. I was constantly telling him to SHUT IT because it got to be a little bit much. And that business about "Kim"? He was in love with her. She wasn't so much a fan, apparently. Don't you love how the P.S. is longer than the actual NOTE?

three things (the fourth)

Despite the sheer AWESOMENESS of this picture, it has nothing to do with today's post.
But we did get really close to a lot of Canadian geese yesterday.

I am so tired. I don't know why I decided to pack in a boatload of introspection into this week - between the yearbook reading (more to come, and oh it's just... awful) and then this madness with the Three for Friday and my BRILLIANT idea to make it three things that the author her/himself wrote? That's a lot of looking back.

But I do my work. I did my work. I wrote two posts from yearbook entries and I have two more to come - and then I strained through two years of The Creamery posts to find some of my favorites. It was hard to pick just three - and I'm saying that not in a I'M TEH AWESOME way, but rather, when you write a post, a heartfelt one, one that you want to say something meaningful, you really pour yourself into it. And it's pretty near impossible to put them up side-to-side and pick just three that you like better than all the others.

So here's what I did. First, I picked four. And it wasn't because they were the ones that I liked best. But rather, I picked them because I think these four came the closest to explain something true about me, something real about the topic I was thinking about - they are the words that I most wanted to say at the time. And looking back, each post still says what I intended it to say. And I can't say that about everything here.

Without any further blathering, here's some stuff that I'm glad I wrote.


Breathing Lessons
Bean had been really sick. I was coaching her through the simple steps of breathing - and I realized in one of those DUH moments that this thing I do every day as a mother is a metaphor for so many things I'm trying to do in my life, and so many things that I'm going to face with Alice in the years to come.

On Being Small
A good reminder for me on the days when I feel like living a small life is a liability.

11:46pm
The best description of motherhood that I've written yet. I'm proud of this.

The Current
I wrote this just before my father-in-law died. It brings me back to those days that were bare and ragged but beautiful all the same.



And, because the misery loves company - playing along with me today are:

Swistle

City Mouse Country

Burnstopia

Miss Sarah in Georgia

One Day at a Time

Minihammer

CAQuincy

The Gori Wife

Joanne



Happy Friday, everyone.

grade 10: wasn't that the WORST CLASS EVER??!?!?!?

Sophomore yearbook. Now with more cat fluv.

What I've noticed from this horrible look back at my high school yearbooks is that as the years go on, the notes become less generic (but only by a tiny margin) and more angsty. With the DRAMA! And the sheer unadulterated HATRED for classes and teachers! And it was just ALL TOO MUCH! Also: there is someone out there posting MY yearbook notes on THEIR blog and I am being put to SHAME for the stupid things I said. (Never mind that - you simply need to look back at yesterday's comments and see what the dear KAY has posted. Good to know that she comes through in an OCD pinch and actually BRINGS OUT MY YEARBOOK RESPONSE.) What I've learned: We ALL said stupid things in high school. And then we wrote them down for posterity.

Before we visit Sophomore year with Whimsy, let me remind you that I'm doing Three for Friday tomorrow, and most likely this will be the last one. After that, I'll do it on a case-by-case basis. So! To round off our fun series of Three for Fridays, I'm asking that anyone who wants to play choose three of their OWN posts. And if you'd be so kind, include your reasons for choosing the three. Could be three favorites, could be three most memorable, could be three things that you wish you could forget. Just three. And why. Please let me know if you're playing either by commenting here, or emailing me at whimsyattack AT gmail DOT com. Remember, friends don't let friends play Three for Friday on their own.

Now then. On to GRADE TEN. (Oh the humanity)




Well Whimsy, That was one hell of a test. It's been a great year and I enjoyed getting to know you in History class. Too bad Mr. Lopez is such a BUTTHEAD! Oops, I capitalized my T's. There I go again. You know what I mean. Take care.
Your friend,
Michael

Whimsy: First, no Michael, I don't know what you mean. Second, the theme of sophomore year was my HATRED for my world history teacher, Mr. Lopez. The guy was a terrible teacher, to put it mildly. Case in point: he decided to skip over World War II in order to focus on "more important things". Um. He was small minded, completely inept, and used terrible grammar. He also said the same words and phrases over and over again. This was my way of surviving his class (and also ensuring wide-spread fame for myself): I kept a tally of his common phrases and how many times he said them over the course of the year. In the end, the answer was A LOT.



Whimsy, Hiya girl! Aren't you glad summer is finally here? I'm so glad I got to meet you this year. You're such a sweet person. I'm gonna miss your smile over the summer. Geometry was fun wasn't it? Mr. Lewin's pretty cool. Too bad we both lost our A+'s but we did make it through the year. I hope you have a really great summer. We worked hard enough for it.
Always,
Ava

Whimsy: I loved geometry. I was good at it. It made me happy. And that Ava person? Missing my smile? WHAT?



(Written under the Physics Club picture)
Whimsy, Here I am again in the Physics club. Have fun in the summer. This year is finally over, no more geometry. I'll be a senior next year and you'll be a little junior. Well it was nice knowing you. See you next year, maybe.
Caesar

Whimsy: Um. I guess he was weird with the COMMITMENT of SEEING ME next year? Maybe?



Dear Whimsy, Since I'll see ya very frequently all the time this'll be short! I'm glad I know you 'cause you're so funny when you're upset. J/K. So pro-debater - whose your next victim? I'm glad we kinda had class together 'cause it was very uplifting to see ya! Good luck in debate, take care, and keep talkin'!
(heart)
P

Whimsy: We went to church together, hence the comment about seeing each other all the time. What gets me is this whole "upset" stuff. Huh? I was both a FIRECRACKER and also RUDE. Or something. Check out the "J/K" thing. Oh my.



To Whimsy, First of all, have a nice and cool summer. Best of luck. I've enjoyed having you in my biology class and for being a cool friend. I hope I have you next year in a class & have the same fun we had this year in biology. As for right now, keep your head in the air & your heart sky high. K.I.T (includes phone number). Friends all the time,
Alex

Whimsy: Again with the mentioning CLASS! I think it's the only thing that people can say when they don't know what else to say! And that last part with the head and heart stuff? Do you think Alex put that in everyone's year book? Or was I special?



Dear Whimsy,
Well the year is already over. You know what that means no more Mrs. Carr. I'm really glad I got the chance to meet & become good friendz with you because your a great friend & biology partner. Have a great summer.
Love & friendship,
Manny
Spelling and weird punctuation in original note.

Whimsy: So Manny. I was NOT a good biology partner. I HATED biology and wasn't good at it in the least bit. I believe Manny thought I was a good partner because we were EQUALLY bad at it, and I had friends in the class who were NOT bad at biology and would help us to be LESS BAD. ...that "friendz" stuff? What is up with the switching a Z for an S?



Whimsy! Hello dear! How are things going? There is much ink in this pen. I wish ya the very bestest! Boy what a workout, huh? Whimsy, I'm so glad I got to meet ya!! Have loads of fun in PE! I really hope I see ya next - well Sept!
(heart)
Serena

Whimsy: I think we had PE together. Hence the workout stuff. Huh.



Whimsy! Hi! Well, the year's almost over... we're going to be upperclassmen next year! I can't wait until finals are over! I'm so... scared of biology and world history! We survived Lopez's class! Wow! Well, thanks for being such a great friend! You better keep in touch! Have a great summer! Take care! And best wishes always! (heart)
Juliana

Whimsy: She was a really nice girl! And she was really creative! And artistic! And used all kinds of colorful markers when she wrote in my year book!



Hope you have a great summer*
Kevin
*Standard goodbye

Whimsy: At least he was honest.



To Whimsy: Have a great summer thinking about having Mr. Lopez for U.S. History next year. (Just kidding) See you next year. I hope we have some classes together.
Your friend,
Johnny

Whimsy: Quite the jokester.



Hey Whimsy, Hi cutie! I'm glad that we got to be friends. I think that if I had never met you, I would have missed out on a fabulous girl! I'll be in touch over the years - at least as long as you're in (town I grew up in) and let me know where you are. Thanks for being you - I admire your character. You're a strong one.
Love,
Kathleen

Whimsy: Again, like so many others, I remember her not at all. Does this seem SAD to any of you, that there are so many people that I simply have FORGOTTEN? COMPLETELY?



Thus concludes our gut wrenching tour through Whimsy's sophomore year of high school. Tune in tomorrow for Three for Friday. And next week? I'll grace you with junior AND senior years. Because I'm a giver.

have a nice summer!!!! K.I.T!!!!!!

Names I was not allowed to call Chip yesterday: Patches, Grrr Argh, Cap'n, Xander, and Dread Captain Chip (no one would be deathly afraid of "Dread Captain Chip"!) It was all for naught anyway, because Patches, I MEAN CHIP, didn't sport his eye patch for long. All was well in the time leading up to see the eye doctor, and she confirmed that it wasn't a torn cornea (try not to type "corn tornea"), and was, actually, an extreme allergic reaction to (most likely) cat hair. Apparently there's this whole lymphatic layer? Right near your eye? And when it gets really upset? It sort of FREAKS OUT AND STARTS TO COVER YOUR ENTIRE EYE? And then your wife passes out because it's so icky. The end.

We're all fine here now, thanks. I'm up to my eyeballs (HA! NO ALLERGIC REACTIONS HERE!) in some sewing projects, of all things. Which I'll share later, to amuse you.

But first, and instead, today - I've been a little nostalgic, reading Swistle's post yesterday with that mixed tape stuff from her growing-up-hood, and then today Shelly Overlook talked about going to her 20-year high school reunion. So what do I do? I go and pull out a high school yearbook. I KNOW. WHY? Right? My good friend Stacie did this a while back, and it was HILARIOUS to read some of the comments people wrote in her yearbook.

Why should I try to be original, when I'm surrounded by greatness. So, without further delay...


WHIMSY'S YEARBOOK NOTES: FRESHMAN YEAR
* Names haven't been changed to protect anyone (except me, I changed my name back to Whimsy as it should be for this blog. I think your heads would explode if I up and started to refer to myself with my actual given name.) I'm just putting it out there. Enjoy reading notes from the deep and lasting relationships I built when I was 14.



Hi Whimsy! How are you doing? As for me, I'm doing great. I sure am going to miss you over the summer. I'll remember you for peanut butter sandwiches and a great smile. Why peanut butter? Yuk!! Gross!! Sicko!! Stay healthy and keep smiling.
Love,
Lawrence

Whimsy notes: I'm going to be saying this a lot, but I remember Lawrence not at all. But he's going to remember my lunch. And my smile? What? (Punctuation as written in original note.)



Well Whimsy, the year is finally come to an end and I'm real scared. You have three more years of high school left. Enjoy them. It is really the best years of your life. Stay sweet. Good things will come to you! Best of luck with the future and debate. Don't forget me okay?
Love,
Philip
K.I.T (includes his phone number)

Whimsy notes: Again with the beseeching REMEMBER ME. I must have a terrible memory, though I DO remember this dude. Yes, I was in debate. I can't let this one go: THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE? First, No. Just a thousand years of NO. And second? How old is this guy? SEVENTY? He isn't out of high school even then, to tell me that it doesn't get BETTER? Because it does, oh it does, does, DOES.



Whimsy! You're really like a cute sweet Dutch girl. And one of the raddest freshman debaters. Never stop reaching for the stars.
Luv,
Brian

Whimsy notes: I guess Dutch girl was some kind of a thing? I guess? I have no idea. Favorite thing: the use of "RADDEST". I'm not going near that "reaching for the stars" thing. It's weird. No one SAYS that. Let alone, HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS.



Whimsy: (written on the cross country page) Here's me and Ed battling it out with ourselves and each other, to make it to the finish line. It's been "different" knowing you, and I hope I encounter you next year even though I'm going to several "honors" classes and you're not. (HA! HA!) Just kidding! Well anyways, have a great summer and be good.
Marcos

Whimsy notes: Um. I think he was trying to be sarcastic and funny, and not totally hurtful and rude. He still uses bad grammar with that "anyways" junk. SO THERE - WHIMSY HAS THE LAST LAUGH.



Dear Whimsy,
Well, you have been a sweetie! Hope you have great success in your next 3 years of school! Have a great summer. See ya!
Love,
Felicia

Whimsy: Clearly another senior. With nothing to say.


Hello Whimsy (KAREN THIS ONE IS FROM YOU!),
It's been quite a year knowing you. I don't mean to make this a form message, it's just that I'm sorta lost. It's been a year and I really appreciate all that you've done for me (even though I tick you off like crazy). I would really like to say thanx and I hope you have a wonderful life in a parallel dimension. I also hope everything between you and XXX and XXX will work out (yeah right). One day we need to get together and actually go to that picnic. And are you going to be free to learn the finest points of tennis (i.e. screaming, yelling, lying, cheating). Have a good, no, great summer. And in fact a great life in spite of us normal people (or as you would say "unimaginative"). Okay I better stop.
With love,
Karen

Whimsy: First? I must've been a TOTAL JERK, with that stuff about me getting ticked off. Karen was a sweetheart. And I DO remember her, and now we're all in contact and stuff through Facebook. Hello Karen! You're FAMOUS. We never did do that picnic, did we? Good to know I was as strange in high school as I am now. Me and XXX and XXX never did work things out. I'm not sad.



Dear Whimsy,
So, this year has finally ended. Another memorable year to add to your "childhood memories". I'll just remind you to have a wonderful, fun summer. You'll be glad you did.
Lucy

Whimsy: Another note from a seventy-year-old high school student.



Dear Whimsy,
Well it's been another terrific year again! Finally we survived freshman year, and next year, we'll be sophomores. YAYYY! Well, hope you have an AWESOME summer! Don't get burned, stay cool! (PS I still remember when you gave me the hamsters.) It seems not that long ago. Time flies.
Friends,
Timothy

Whimsy: It makes it sound like I gave him the HIVES or something. We went to elementary school together. In third or fourth grade I had an excess of hamsters and gave some away. The end.




And so on, with more notes along the lines of "KIT" and "Have a nice summer" and "You were a weird girl". This ends our romp through Whimsy's freshman year of high school. I'm going to go take a shower now and remind myself that I am NO LONGER FOURTEEN YEARS OLD and boy, I couldn't be happier about that.

the eyes have it

It turns out that there is a whole WORLD of things that happen after Alice goes to bed at night. I used to wonder that, myself, as a little girl. When I retired to bed at my TOTALLY UNFAIR AND WAY EARLY bedtime of 8:30 pm (leaving my older brother and sister to watch the end of Love Boat on Saturday night - and then, AND THEN, they even got to watch Fantasy Island which I was never able to see, unless of course there was a cross-over episode between LB and FI, which did happen a few times and why is it that I even REMEMBER this stuff? I don't know. I just don't know. What I do know is that I had some kind of weird crush on Gopher, the goofy guy who was a, what was that? Purser?). Anyway. In that span of time when I was asleep and the whole rest of humanity (according to me) was able to amble around aimlessly enjoying the young child-less world, I imagined that there was ice cream. And games. And just a whole bunch of stuff that no one would tell me about but I just knew, I just knew that they were all doing it and I was missing out.

In truth, Alice does miss out on things. Things like the post-bedtime family room clean up (FUN TIMES). And the ever-exciting turning down of the duvet on mama and daddy's bed. And the never-dull chore of watering the lawn. Oh boy, she has no idea of the heart-stopping excitement that she just sleeps through every night!

Last night, however, Alice missed one of my all-time favorite late night activities: the emergency run to Walgreen's (or other suitable pharmacy-type establishment). Chip and I had been hanging out, just chatting about our days - when he starts madly rubbing his eye and then finally goes to the bathroom to see if there was something stuck in there. It turns out... oh the ew. Poor guy must've done something along the lines of TEAR HIS CORNEA because there it was ---- all sort of sad and lumpy on the inside of his eye. Luckily it wasn't hurting him much, but it scared both of us pretty deeply.

Our plan of attack (which is usual for any and all Medical Issues of Unknown Treatment): call the professionals. In this case, The Little Brother (who is a certified EMT and firefighter dude) and Chip's older sister, The Nurse. Both of them verified that it was probably a torn cornea (or whatever that clear covering is on your eye, I wasn't so much interested in the name of things as to find out a way of helping Chip). They said we should get some saline solution in there before letting Chip rest for the night.

Which brings us to the late-night Whimsytrek to the store. I do pretty well keeping a clear head in situations like these, but there was something seriously WRONG with me last night because it took not one, not two, not three, but FOUR, count 'em: FOUR trips in and out of the house to the car and back before I was able to finally pull out of the driveway. Not kidding. First I forgot my wallet. Then I didn't have the key (because I'd brought it inside with me to retrieve the wallet and had promptly left it on the counter). Then I didn't have the right key. Then I didn't have my phone (just in case). By the time I got to Walgreen's, they had closed a mere 3 minutes previously. And no amount of glass-door-knocking-and-pounding was going to do any good (I know, I tried). So then... back to the car and off to my favorite late-night mecca: THE WALMART.

Oh dear. Can someone please explain to me what could possibly inspire a person to take their small toddler-age children grocery shopping at 10:30pm? Because... I just don't understand. When I run into a Walmart at 10:30 in the evening, I kind of expect that most of the people there are on similar errands, the must-buy-saline-solution-for-husband's-oozy-eye-situation-before-he-gets-desperate-and-decides-to-just-rinse-it-with-the-saline-we've-used-for-Alice's-nose-bogeys. (BTW, I explained why this wasn't such a good idea before I left the house, explaining that it's probably best to leave eye-bogeys and nose-bogeys to their own saline bottles, GAPING OPEN WOUND AND ALL.) Anyway, as I'm sure you're all telling me right now as you read this, the Walmart was not, in fact, haven to a few dozen emergency item seekers such as myself. It's sort of... just a usual shopping trip, but intensified, like by ten, with THE LATE NIGHT CRAZY.

I watched some poor man purchase a sauna suit, some chewing tobacco, and several packs of gum (I just didn't want to know). A girl with very red eyes and a puffy just-finished-crying nose yelled at me to go in front of her because CLEARLY SHE WASN'T READY YET (I hesitated because she was also sort of yelling this stuff into the phone glued to her ear, and really? Did you say that to me?). All of this after I had already spent twenty minutes pacing the eye gunk aisle trying to find a basic box of SIMPLE SALINE SOLUTION. With no extra fancy stuff. Someone tell me why they don't just sell that. WHY?

I'll also take this moment to tell you that I am not the best candidate for the emergency drug store run because I come back with fifteen bottles of various items just in case. Last night, I came home with the saline (gigantor size), some spiffy eye-wash kit (just in case), a large bottle of ibuprofen (we were out), and some very handsome eye bandages. Which Chip is rocking, I must say.

His response when he got that bad boy bandage on his eye? ARRRRRRGH.

At least he's got his sense of humor. The dude is off to an eye doctor now, wish us luck and lots more pirate jokes.

we all scream for ice cream (redux)

Pretend she's holding some ice cream. Or something.

Ice cream is a commitment. I am here to share this news with you, as I had the realization several nights ago. The temperature had crept up into the 80's throughout the day, and by the time Chip and I were hanging out in our bedroom that night it was positively stuffy. We watched some TV, we talked, we tippity-typed on our laptops. All the while a creepy-crawly ICK came over me until I felt like I was going to jump out of my own skin with irritation. I threw the TV remote in Chip's direction and sighed (irritatingly - you have to make sure you're imagining it as a highly-charged irritated sigh) I AM SO IRRITATED. I FEEL ANNOYED. AND ITCHY. To which Chip replied, ME TOO. THOUGH NOT ITCHY. WHAT IS WRONG WITH US?

I left him contemplating that important question (we're certainly not the first to ask, and won't be the last, especially with the way I drive sometimes--- there are plenty of other drivers just tooling around the streets thinking WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER). I went downstairs to drown my sorrows in something creamy and cold. As in ice cream. I first thought along the lines of creamsicle. But decided against it and went with a much more standard dessert: vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. It was then, when I was putting the Hershey's chocolate sauce back into the refrigerator that I spied the heaping bowl of deliciously delectable grapes. Which lead me to my thought: ice cream is a commitment. Even though the grapes were quite suddenly and oh-so-clearly the answer to my taste bud desire, the sweet nectar that would sooth my irritated self, even though I really really really wanted the grapes--- I was already holding a newly scooped but already a little melty bowl of vanilla with sauce. A commitment. I couldn't put it back. And trying to shelf the drippy thing in the freezer seemed like a bad idea.

So I went upstairs. And ate my commitment. And tried to be happy about it.

The end.



Though maybe not quite the end, because I need some feedback, kids. A do-I-or-don't-I question relating back to Friday's post. I suggested, on the next Friday (which makes it this coming Friday, look at how good I am with keeping track of dates and days) for the Three for Friday, we post three of our own favorite posts. I am not normally a follower-type of gal, but if I'm going to be the only one doing it I would feel just DUMB. I would feel a little bit OVERLY, if you get my drift. So let me know if you think it's a good idea, over there to the right. Or tell me so here in the comments. But before you vote or comment, let me make a brief case for going through with this idea: You are the best memory-keeper of your own posts, naturally. And you are also the most hardened critic of your own posts. Add to that, you might have some awesome back story on why a specific post makes it in your Own Personal Top Three. And I'm just nosy enough to want to know that back story. Also, I like to read about you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be reading your blog. That's the end of my reasons. I am now off to purchase MORE of the delectable grapes mentioned above. Because now they're all gone. And I am a sad Whimsy. You wouldn't like a sad grape-less Whimsy.

Edited to add: with some urging (ahem, SWISTLE and M), I'm adding a third option for the poll. Apparently there are SOME of you who will play but want to BLAME someone (namely me). I'm okay with that. Blame me. So long as you play along, you can blame me all you want! Even for OTHER THINGS, like global warming. And stuff.

Edited AGAIN to add: I can't change the poll because voting has already commenced. So just know that if you vote it's a GREAT idea, I'll know, deep down, that you're embarrassed and you're going to blame me. See above with me being okay with the blame. Okay then.

three things (the third)

Maybe it's just me, but I think the lyrics to This Old Man are disturbing / borderline inappropriate. Think about it: This old man, he played one, he played knick-knack on my thumb. And so on as the old man plays "knick-knack" on the singer's shoe, knee, door, hive (?), sticks (??), up to heaven (really?), gate (???), spine (?!?!) --- only to start the whole freak show "over again".


Maybe it's just me, but spaghetti is one thing that absolutely must be the proper temperature. Too hot and you can hardly taste it. Too cold and it's all... squishy.


Maybe it's just me, but ever since I realized that both Miss Piggy AND Grover have virtually the same voice, I can't listen to either one of them.


Maybe it's just me, but the young mouse that appears on every page of Goodnight Moon seems a little bit... creepy. He's a MOUSE. And he's skittering all over that poor bunny-child's room, wily nily. One minute the mouse is hiding behind the firewood - the next he's standing in the middle of the room, DARING the Old Lady Saying Hush to just come and grab him. After that he's just a little too sure of himself, standing there on top of the clothes line drying contraption. I'd be TERRIFIED if a mouse did that in our house, all gravity defying and getting up in our stuff like that. At one point he's contemplating jumping on the Old Lady's head and building a nest in one of her very convenient ears. After that he finally gets what he wants and sits snacking on the bowl full of mush. I swear, no mouse would ever get that far in this house. Which brings me to...


Maybe it's just me, but those "kittens" in Goodnight Moon? WHAT THE HECK???? Do they have NO hunting instinct whatsoever? The mouse is wreaking havoc in that room, running RAMPANT and they're all LA LA LA THIS YARN IS SOOOOOO INTERESTING. The kittens are USELESS.


Maybe it's just me, but when I'm reading Goodnight Moon, I keep thinking all this junk about the mouse and the kittens and then it hits me: the Old Lady rabbit and the little child rabbit that's falling asleep? ARE FREAKISHLY LARGE. Look at that scaling of size between the freakish ate-radiated-carrots-that-made-them-grow-human-size rabbits and the useless cats. Or the scavenging rodent. That's scary stuff, yo.


Maybe it's just me, but do you think I've been reading Goodnight Moon a little too much?




Annnnnnnnnnd because it's Friday! And I know you've been dying to see my three picks for this week's Three for Friday - here they are:

From Kathryn at Daring Young Mom. We watched this same season of The Bachelor because Chip actually grew up with Jason. Not kidding. So anyway. We watched it. We laughed about it. We URGED Jason (in our minds and hearts and at the TV screen) to choose wisely. And then be wise. Whatever. ANYWAY. This post by Kathryn is hilarious.

This post from Clueless But Hopeful Mama. I'm going with a loose advice theme today, and I think this is some AWESOME advice. I've got to file it away for some future time (not an announcement in any way, so stop thinking that thought right there).

And to round out our three posts of advice, here's a lovely oldie from Princess Nebraska that still cracks me up.



Also participating this week (if you'd like to add to the jolly, please comment and tell me you're playing along today and I'll link you - or send me an email):

The lovely and luminous SWISTLE
Bzzzzgrrrrl at City Mouse Country



Next week's Three for Friday will be the Special Edition Three for Friday - and I'm telling you early so you'll PLAY ALONG (or just tell me it's a horrible idea and I won't go through with it - am very malleable)... I want everyone to pick three of their OWN posts. Not a time for modesty, folks. I personally think that we're our hardest critics, but also, we know when we've actually done something pretty well. I want to get some recommendations from you, about you. Three of your favorite posts. Doesn't matter WHY they're you're favorites - but I'd like to hear your reasons too, if you'd like. Otherwise, how's THAT for an easy blog post: here are three things I wrote and I feel pretty good about them. The end.

Happy Friday, Internets!