I’m churning the butter, I’m churning the butter, my arms are getting tired from all the churning, churning, churning. Good God this is hard work! But if we don’t want to eat plain bread tonight, the butter I will churn, churn, churn.
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Archive for August, 2008
FP1: Fashion plates (working title)
FP: Lila character sketch
My name is Lila, but it changes depending on the day and the character and just to generally suit my fancy. I’m twelve years old, I’m short for my grade. I have straight blonde hair that will never ever curl. I will never have awesome beachy hair, or a frizzed up runway rat’s nest, or long flowing dread locks. Nope, just straight baby-fine hair. I did get bangs last spring, so that makes it the slightest bit edgy, but still not Vogue-worthy to say the least.
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Birthday memories
August 23, 1977
I can never remember the story of the day I was born. Maybe because I like hearing it told over and over again, so I try not to submit the details to memory, because I want it to be fresh each time. I know my father fought a fire that night. He was a volunteer fireman for years, always making abrupt exits to do what he could for others. I can never remember if the fire was before or after I was born. I’m pretty sure it was after, but I think I just like the image of my dad holding me in my fresh white blanket with soot on his face as if he just rescued me from a burning building. I know, it’s not very hygenic, but whatevs.
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You just can’t make this stuff up, part 2 of 2
PREVIOUSLY: Part 1, in which we partake of a very expensive bay cruise, and Dave goes for a swim.
AND NOW: Part 2, in which we nearly die, all future cell phones of Lee’s are relegated to a plastic baggy, and Steve Jobs puts out a hit on Dave.
But first, A WARNING: If you happen to own a pair of black plastic-rimmed glasses, listen to emo, and work as a graphic designer, please do not read further. This story includes gratuitous violence against Apple products that will horrify your fragile indy-rock soul.
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You just can’t make this stuff up, part 1 of 2
Skootch closer, children. I have a story to tell….
Part 1, in which we partake of a very expensive bay cruise, and Dave goes for a swim.
It all begins this past Sunday on the beach. Our Sunday beach days tend to start around 10 a.m. and go until at least 7, sometimes later. Our BFFs were down for the weekend visiting, so when the time came to bring them to the boat in the late afternoon, we did some mad scheming to get ourselves back to the beach before sunset, because you see, on this particular day, the beach we had chosen is not one you just drive to and be done with it. No, no, no – that would be too easy.
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Update across multiple categories
I’ve spent the past couple weeks making wedding invitations for my lovely friend Justine, watching my garden evolve as some crops have completed their life cycles while others have begun to flourish, spending time with visiting friends and family, helping plan another romantically fast-tracked wedding, and most important, making pla-a-a-ans [insert picture of me tapping fingers together, muttering "Mua ha ha ha"].
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YA book review: New Moon
New Moon is the second book in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. (Twilight is reviewed here.) I put off reading it for a bit because the first book took over my life for the two days I spent reading it, and I haven’t had the kind of time to spare lately (September? Where are you…??), but clearly after enjoying the first book to an almost obsessive degree, I had to read its successor.
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