When I finished my ode to CSL last night, I checked in on other blogs I read, including (of course!) daughter E's Random Stupidness (which you can get to from the link on the side--I'm not savvy enough to embed it, I tried and failed). She posted about having been awarded some bloggy stylish award. But here's the kicker, and I do mean kicker. She had to 'award' 15 other bloggers with the same award. A bit like a chain letter, if you ask E (and me for that matter). But she did it.
And the first name on her list was me. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ME, stylish? That's a hoot. I'm talking gut-busting, laughing-til-you-cry (not to mention pee your pants, which I surely won't...this is a very reverential blog, after all) hoot. Just to tell you how 'stylish' I am, just this month E and SK joined the 30-for-30 club, meaning they had to choose 30 pieces of clothing from their wardrobes, and wear only those things for thirty straight days. When I suggested joining them, E told me I could do it with 10 things, since that's all I ever wear anyway. Most days you'll find me in pjs all day long. I don't leave the house in them--that's a line I won't cross--but I also don't always leave the house. I also don't wear dresses, tights, tight pants, heels, nor own more than one bag (which is what they're calling purses these days) at a time. And you know what? I'm okay with how I live. I'm okay with my daughters being the fashionistas in my life, and enjoy watching how they put things together. But don't ask me to copy them. No way, no how. Not now, not ever. Too many physical problems, too much lack of interest.
However, the other part of this 'Style Award' was to share '7 things about yourself'. Considering I've shared about 734 things about myself since I started this blog, it seems unnecessary...until I walked down the hall and E kind of dared me--almost double-dog-dared me--to come up with 7 things she didn't already know about me. And that did it. That, my friends, is just about the only style I have, after all: telling my story to all and sundry and seeing how God has shown up in it, over and over.
So here's my list. I don't know how many my kids already know, but I gave it a valiant effort:
1. When I was in grad. school at WSU I went out a couple of times with a grad student in the history dept named Harry. After the second time, I knew he wasn't for me, so said no repeatedly after that. Finally, he came into the Bookstore, where I worked, tore off a corner of the Bluebook (a test booklet back in the olden days) he was carrying, wrote "Harry" and his phone number. Told me to call him if I wanted to see him again. Years later, (after I was married) my dad told me a man attending their church had asked him about me, said he'd dated me. When I asked who it was, my dad told me, "He says you think his name is Harry. But it's really Henry." I've always wondered why he wrote his name down wrong on that bluebook.
2. Back in high school, Tylenol was a brand new wonder drug. And my mother was always a believer in the newest and latest. So one day, when a friend and I were home at lunch during school, I gave my friend some Tylenol for cramps. She was pretty hesitant to take it, but I convinced her it would do the job. About half an hour later, back at school, an ambulance was taking her off to the hospital. Apparently Tylenol wasn't a wonder drug for her!
3.That same year my family ordered a new Suburban Carry-all, and for some reason, my parents let me choose the color. Or maybe my voice was just the loudest and vociferous. But we definitely ended up with the only shiny orange carry-all in town.
4. My first kiss was during a Young life game at a weekend camp. All my friends had real first kisses long before I did, so I made up one...but that's the truth. And the boy was from Kennewick, Washington and I never even knew his name.
5. My family's first dog was named Prince Lightning (because he had a white Lightning streak on his black back). My father brought him home from the pound one day when I'd been stung by a bee so badly my entire leg swelled up and I couldn't walk. I liked to pretend he was my very own dog.
6. I collect old books, the oldest of which is a 1850s complete set of Charlotte Bronte's works, once owned by my great-great-grandfather. In a fire, I'd probably mourn their loss as much as anything.
7. The famous people I've almost met:
I once had Easter brunch in a restaurant in Eugene, Oregon at a table next to where Wilt Chamberlain was sitting. He was the largest man I've ever seen, so large he couldn't fit his knees under the table, and I was close enough to touch them, if I'd been brave (or stupid!) enough to try. Everyone in the place was gawking at him, and many tried to ask for his signature (which is a hobby that I don't quite get) but he politely refused to sign any autographs.
In Cambridge, England when a friend and I were waiting to board a train, we were delayed because a special train had arrived. And an ugly, though very dapper, smallish man got off the train, dressed in a suit with a pink shirt and tie, with a pink handkerchief in his pocket. It was Prince Charles, and he walked right by us without so much as a word. I think he must have been late for a very important date. And we decided that his lovely wife (this was back in the Diana days) had dressed him.
So there you go, E. How many did you already know?