the dream life

40 years in 40 posts: 1982

Middle school has to be the weirdest time in a human’s life. Looking back, I can see the beginnings of depression and anxiety disorder in my seventh grade self. No one called it that, it wasn’t diagnosed as such (which is probably good), but with hindsight I can see it.

40 years in 40 posts: 1981

In the sixth grade, we didn't have to eat in the cafeteria anymore and could choose to eat in "the grill," where we could order from a menu that included hamburgers and French fries. At the time, this seemed hugely important. It seemed worldly and mature, to be able to choose fried foods for lunch. 

40 years in 40 posts: 1980

I know I've mentioned this several times but it stands out to me. It's one of those things I think about a lot. One day in fifth grade, we designed dream cars. We drew our cars and then took turns explaining to the class what sort of features our cars had. Mine had a couch in it, I think, and a swimming pool on top.This may have been a last day before some sort of vacation activity, because I remember that we had a lot of time to work on these cars.

40 years in 40 posts: 1979

In the fourth grade, my favorite place to be was Ms. Lane's room. She had the whole Pink Panther theme rockin' with a pink penthouse where (I think) two students got to sit at a time, and the little bathroom all done up with black light posters and deemed "the Brain Drain."

40 years in 40 posts: 1978

Another photo of JLK's. This one is from third grade recess.

40 years in 40 posts: 1977

Below is another photo courtesy of JLK (if you can say something is "courtesy" of someone even if you didn't ask for permission) and the Model Lab School yearbook:

40 years in 40 posts: 1976

This is me on my seventh birthday.

40 years in 40 posts: 1975

This is a hat that I made in Kindergarten: 

40 years in 40 posts: 1974

I went to pre-school in the basement of a sunny house where I tried everyday to paint at the easel, but the combination of watery tempera paints, slick newsprint and gravity resulted in streaks running down the paper. I felt so sad every time it happened, and it always happened. 

I liked that pre-school, though; it was a friendly, happy place. In the backyard there was a little rock garden and goldfish pond.

40 years in 40 posts: 1973

In 1973, I took tap and ballet and got to wear this sequined number for a recital: 

  

I remember thinking that I looked very sophisticated.

40 years in 40 posts: 1972

The year I turned three, my mom really rocked the pink/valentine/ballerina theme (the theme of most of my birthdays, although now I usually leave off the ballerina.) I can remember the way that sucker tasted and the way the white around the edges felt on my lips. I loved the centerpiece on the table. I loved the big fat 3 on the cake.

 

40 years in 40 posts: 1971

In February 1971, I turned two. We still lived in Columbia, Missouri.

40 years in 40 posts: 1970

In 1970, the Beatles disbanded and I turned one.

40 years in 40 posts: 1969

In 20 days, I will turn 40, and I decided that I'd like to do some sort of commemorative blog project to mark the occasion. So here we, go -- a story, a memory, a photograph, or an artifact from each year of my life--beginning today with year one. 

I was born in 1969, during a snow storm, at the old Pattie A. Clay Hospital in Richmond, Ky. Shortly before going into labor, my mom ate a hot fudge sundae. This, I believe, set the tone for my life. 

Questions for my Richmond peeps

In the Glyndon Hotel on Main Street there was a restaurant called the Sub Center. The subs made at this center featured paper thin onion slices and a heavily applied vinegar and oil dressing. They were the most delicious subs evah.

Down the street, near that Kroger, there was a pizza place called Archie's Upper Crust. The pizza dough was made with beer. (I once went in there to pick up a pizza with my hair in cornrows that I had braided myself in an attempt to look like Bo Derek. In other words, they weren't cornrows, they were weird misshapen uneven braids all over my head - some narrow ones in the front, big fat ones in the back. I looked way more like Medusa than Bo Derek. Why did my parents let me go in there?) Anyway, that was good pizza.

Speaking of pizza, on a side street, down a hill, perhaps in an earlier time frame, there was a pizza place with velvet wall paper. It was dimly lit inside. This was either next to some sort of dusty store where upholstery fabric was sold on bolts, or that store came in when the pizza place went out or the pizza place came in when the fabric store went out. I can't remember, but I've never forgotten that wallpaper and I still love it.

Out on the bypass, there was a restaurant attached to a motel. I'm thinking it was blue. There was a windmill or windmill sign or some suggestion of windmill. The something Dutch something.

Do you remember these things? These glorious foods of youth?