I have really bad allergies now, and I KOWN it's Karma!
It all started with my brother—My older brother (The one that I actually have childhood memories of.)
My older brother, but not my oldest brother, was in the middle school wrestling program. When he came home he would teach me and my little brother all the wrestling moves he learned. He would let us both wrestle him, which was really fun because we were so much littler than him. Then he would have us wrestle each other. He would have us do it like they taught him at School: with on of us on all fours and the other over their back... I don't know the stance that they do right before the ref says go. If you've ever seen a wrestling match you might know what I'm talking about. He also taught the one were the wrestlers circle around and around till some one makes and move and they end up on the ground rolling around. He tried to teach us real moves and holds, but it always just ended with us rolling around giggling and goofing around.
These are probably some of the best memories I have of my 2nd older brother. (I have no memories of my oldest) I enjoyed this so much as a kid I even for a time was disillusioned enough to think about joining wrestling in High School. When I told my Mom I wanted to, she strongly discouraged me against it. She said my boobs were too big. I thought she was being sexist telling me I couldn't wrestling because I was a girl. I was probably right about that, but she was right about my boobs. It was only after I dated a wrestler later in high school that I really watched a match and paid attention that I realized it was way more intense than I thought. I probably really didn't want to be beat up by a guy. In real wrestling I don't even think tickling is aloud. My other strong impression about real wrestling is that it was a little gay. Sorry it had to be said.
So back to the main story.
When were were both very little my younger brother and I were pretty evenly matched. Sometimes I would win and some times he would win. Winning, of course was a pin for 3 counts. It was all fun and games at first. As we got older it sometimes was less fun and more real fighting. It wasn't like and blows were thrown we'd just wrestle with each other out of frustration other over disagreements and such.
Even after my older brother had moved out we continued to wrestle. The older my younger brother got the stronger he got and I could no longer take him in a fair fight. He was just too big--- so I fought a little dirty.
It's important to know that my brother has always had really really bad allergies. He was allergic to the world in the summer time. His his eyes would turn red, his nose would run like a faucet and it was really awful. As a little girl I was completely allergy free. I had no idea what he was going through, so naturally I had not sympathy.
I figured out that his weak spot was his nose. I would grab his nose pinch his nastrals shut and yell “Honk Honk!!” I'm not sure why, but his had a horrible effect on his allergies. His eyes would run his nose would run, and he'd have to let go of me. He'd go get a tissue and try to breath again.
I of course thought this was hilarious. “Mom!” he would yell, “Polly's honking my nose!” My mom didn't really know what to think at first. She thought it was funny too. It wasn't like he was saying “Mom Polly is biting me, pinching me,” or even “She's pulling my hair.” It sounded ridiculous. And that was my secret weapon.
Well years later I developed allergies. It's nothing to the level of my brother, but still to me the worst thing in the world. On a really bad day with allergies it can drive you mad! You can't breath, your eyes itch, and you have to blow your nose endlessly. It really is the most awful experience next to throwing up probably. I don't know now that I think about it; they are pretty close. The think about throwing up is I hardly ever do that, but in the summer time I'm lucky ifI go a day without allergies.
So I believe the reason I have allergies so bad is because I was so heartless for honking my brothers and the universe wanted me to see how it felt. Lesson learn universe. Lesson learned.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Untold Tales From Childhood.
This is a tale about my discovery of fashion. Growing up I can't remember anyone ever explaining to me how to dress. Well dressing my self; I learned that obviously. But as for what colors go together and what don't; I hadn't a clue.
I certainly could have used a little guidance as a kid with dressing. That would have been very helpful when I was selecting an old lady Halloween vest to wear in the 5th grade. I ended up looking like quite the foolio.
I like to think I was ahead of my time when I was trying to dress edgy and unique as a 12 year old, but the truth is I was just a freak. I think I could have really pulled it off if I had made it till high school to dress edgy and punk rock, but by the time I made it there I started to care about how I looked.
Why I Started to Dress Well (ish)
The truth be told It all started with my brother. My brother is a year younger than me for most of the year. On January he turns the same age as me for 4 months till my birthday in May. He was in a grade younger than I --Praise the Lord! I don't know what horror life would have been if we were in the same grade. It actually may not have been that bad though. I don't think it was till my senior year that we started to even acknowledge each other in the hallways, so who knows.
Anyway, back to my tale. If I dress oddly he dressed sloby. he looked just as ridiculous as I did, but not possibly more. We were kids of the 90s, I don't know what I expected. Everyone looked a little crazy. This was how our childhood went until about 8th grade for me: 7th for him.
Now, middle school is when kids start to notice the clothing of their peers for the first time more or less. Among the more average kids, you know, the one who were struggling with their mother for the right to start dressing themselves and the ones with less money to spend on ridiculously priced clothing, there was a general since of dislike of the brand names and labels of the day. In my Middle school it was common to hear something like "it's stupid to buy a plain shirt with just the word Ambercombie on it for $30 bucks."or "Those kids are spoiled."
I didn't really participate in the obsession over brands, but I observed and tended to agree with what the kids were saying about the "brand name kids." They were spoiled, they were shallow, and they were stuck up. After all my parents would never would have bought me clothing that expensive. I vowed in my heart never to wear those fancy pants clothing.
At this time I guess my brother was starting to be interested in clothing for the first time in his life. I had liked clothing, and I thought I had looked pretty dang good in my hodgepodge of hand-me-downs. My brother, on the other hand, probably had never given himself more of a passing glance in the mirror as he went by.
Now, I have never asked my little bro what was going on for him in 7th grade. We don't really talk. He and I haven't been close friends since we stopped having to stand on each others backs to get a drink of out the drinking fountain. Plus if I ever even thought to ask him he's have no idea what I was talking about. The evolution of his clothing preference is also something he gives little thought to I'm sure.
Well, for me it is a day I will never forget. On that fair day my family decided to go to the Great Lakes Crossing Mall. This was kind of a fun outing for us because it was outside of our normal haunts; It was a day trip. We went to Rain Forest Cafe for the first time. As a wee 12 or 13 year old I was mesmerize by the moving parts of the animals in the the restaurant. It was a magical day.
Then we approached the the American Eagle; my brother wanted to go in there. I protested: that was a store for sell outs! Or so my 12-13 year old version thought. I thought to myself how could my younger brother be into this stuff? I fancied my self a touch cooler than him at that point in life. (He has since surpassed me in a way that I could never dream of coming close to as far as the cool factor goes.)If he was into fashion what was wrong with me? I figured if my kid brother was going to wear these... these...PREP clothes than why not me?
We did go in and they were having a sale. As I browsed, It seemed to me that this stuff wasn't so highly price after all. ( It turns out that Great Lake Crossing is an out let mall, and for the most part cheaper than other malls, but oh well. It also turns out I was right about Ambercombe: Way too expensive.)
My mother ended up buying us each a few things. I got a top. When I put it on my skin didn't burn from the tears of the children who had sew it together in a sweat shop. Surprising, but now the clencher: I looked good!! My life was change. Yes of course it took me awhile to get the hang of it. Which brings me to my next story.
How I learn that Black an Navy Blue Together is Tacky
Like I said above, It took me a while to learn matching. Even as I entered high school I wasn't very good at it. I was wearing nicer clothing, but not well. I had this one friend who did dress well. Her outfits were meticulously planed. Not only did she match, but she matched extremely perfectly. Everything matched her main color from her hair tie to the tread in he jeans and shoes. I was in awe. I could never hope to be that well coordinated.
As high school went on I got better at dressing myself. But I still wasn't on top of it all the time. I admired my friend, but I gave her a hard time for being so obsessive about her appearance. In jest, one day I asked her about he rules and she gladly told me.
"I never wear socks and sandals." she said
that's a given.
"I never wear pink in orange together for the most part."
I never liked orange.
"I hate it when my pants are too short and my socks show."
I'm so short; that would never happen to me
"I NEVER wear Black and Navy blue together."
WHAT!?! I had never heard that one before. But just the other day I had worn black track pants and a blue sweatshirt to school. (Those fabric probably don't go together now that I think about it.)
She had seen me too. I felt embarrassed, was she saying that just to get at me? But alas, no I think not. She was nice enough not to tell me I looked like a big black and blue bruise walking around the halls until I asked. What a good friend. The more I thought about it the more I couldn't agree more. Those colors had no business being together. They are the most clashing color combination as far as I'm concerned. I never and I mean never worn that color combination since that startling revelation. Today the sight of those two colors side by side still makes me sick. You can ask my husband. It changed my life.
By the time I was in my junior year I fit right into those Saline High School hallways. I've said it before, and I still think it is truer today: The halls of Saline High look like the Manikins of Hollister came alive and attended classes there.
I even conformed so much that, in my hotter days, I worked for Hollister. Which everyone knows is Ambercombies cheaper counterpart. I had really sold out.
But it's for the best If I hadn't started dressing preppy I would have never been accepted by my peers. I would have never dated boys, and than I would have never had my heart broken. I would have never developed shallow friendships that would end abruptly after we were out of high school and figured out we had nothing in common.WAiT A MiNute HeRe! FASHION HAS RUINED MY LIFE.
....
Well that's how I got into fashion. But it ended pretty badly. After high school I totally lost touch with the media for a good year, and when I back in touch everything had change. Fashion was this weird 80s throw back stuff I had never experience in high school, and don't really know what to do with. Not only that I couldn't afford the fashions anymore because I had to pay for rent and food and stuff like that. You know the stuff that keeps me alive. As a kid it was very easy to keep up with the newest trend because my mom and dad payed for those thing and anything I had I could spend on whatever.
Now, Now I'm being melodramatic
now and days I'm lucky if I get dressed. Sometimes I look okay
.... Ah sometimes, those are good days.
I certainly could have used a little guidance as a kid with dressing. That would have been very helpful when I was selecting an old lady Halloween vest to wear in the 5th grade. I ended up looking like quite the foolio.
I like to think I was ahead of my time when I was trying to dress edgy and unique as a 12 year old, but the truth is I was just a freak. I think I could have really pulled it off if I had made it till high school to dress edgy and punk rock, but by the time I made it there I started to care about how I looked.
Why I Started to Dress Well (ish)
The truth be told It all started with my brother. My brother is a year younger than me for most of the year. On January he turns the same age as me for 4 months till my birthday in May. He was in a grade younger than I --Praise the Lord! I don't know what horror life would have been if we were in the same grade. It actually may not have been that bad though. I don't think it was till my senior year that we started to even acknowledge each other in the hallways, so who knows.
Anyway, back to my tale. If I dress oddly he dressed sloby. he looked just as ridiculous as I did, but not possibly more. We were kids of the 90s, I don't know what I expected. Everyone looked a little crazy. This was how our childhood went until about 8th grade for me: 7th for him.
Now, middle school is when kids start to notice the clothing of their peers for the first time more or less. Among the more average kids, you know, the one who were struggling with their mother for the right to start dressing themselves and the ones with less money to spend on ridiculously priced clothing, there was a general since of dislike of the brand names and labels of the day. In my Middle school it was common to hear something like "it's stupid to buy a plain shirt with just the word Ambercombie on it for $30 bucks."or "Those kids are spoiled."
I didn't really participate in the obsession over brands, but I observed and tended to agree with what the kids were saying about the "brand name kids." They were spoiled, they were shallow, and they were stuck up. After all my parents would never would have bought me clothing that expensive. I vowed in my heart never to wear those fancy pants clothing.
At this time I guess my brother was starting to be interested in clothing for the first time in his life. I had liked clothing, and I thought I had looked pretty dang good in my hodgepodge of hand-me-downs. My brother, on the other hand, probably had never given himself more of a passing glance in the mirror as he went by.
Now, I have never asked my little bro what was going on for him in 7th grade. We don't really talk. He and I haven't been close friends since we stopped having to stand on each others backs to get a drink of out the drinking fountain. Plus if I ever even thought to ask him he's have no idea what I was talking about. The evolution of his clothing preference is also something he gives little thought to I'm sure.
Well, for me it is a day I will never forget. On that fair day my family decided to go to the Great Lakes Crossing Mall. This was kind of a fun outing for us because it was outside of our normal haunts; It was a day trip. We went to Rain Forest Cafe for the first time. As a wee 12 or 13 year old I was mesmerize by the moving parts of the animals in the the restaurant. It was a magical day.
Then we approached the the American Eagle; my brother wanted to go in there. I protested: that was a store for sell outs! Or so my 12-13 year old version thought. I thought to myself how could my younger brother be into this stuff? I fancied my self a touch cooler than him at that point in life. (He has since surpassed me in a way that I could never dream of coming close to as far as the cool factor goes.)If he was into fashion what was wrong with me? I figured if my kid brother was going to wear these... these...PREP clothes than why not me?
We did go in and they were having a sale. As I browsed, It seemed to me that this stuff wasn't so highly price after all. ( It turns out that Great Lake Crossing is an out let mall, and for the most part cheaper than other malls, but oh well. It also turns out I was right about Ambercombe: Way too expensive.)
My mother ended up buying us each a few things. I got a top. When I put it on my skin didn't burn from the tears of the children who had sew it together in a sweat shop. Surprising, but now the clencher: I looked good!! My life was change. Yes of course it took me awhile to get the hang of it. Which brings me to my next story.
How I learn that Black an Navy Blue Together is Tacky
Like I said above, It took me a while to learn matching. Even as I entered high school I wasn't very good at it. I was wearing nicer clothing, but not well. I had this one friend who did dress well. Her outfits were meticulously planed. Not only did she match, but she matched extremely perfectly. Everything matched her main color from her hair tie to the tread in he jeans and shoes. I was in awe. I could never hope to be that well coordinated.
As high school went on I got better at dressing myself. But I still wasn't on top of it all the time. I admired my friend, but I gave her a hard time for being so obsessive about her appearance. In jest, one day I asked her about he rules and she gladly told me.
"I never wear socks and sandals." she said
that's a given.
"I never wear pink in orange together for the most part."
I never liked orange.
"I hate it when my pants are too short and my socks show."
I'm so short; that would never happen to me
"I NEVER wear Black and Navy blue together."
WHAT!?! I had never heard that one before. But just the other day I had worn black track pants and a blue sweatshirt to school. (Those fabric probably don't go together now that I think about it.)
She had seen me too. I felt embarrassed, was she saying that just to get at me? But alas, no I think not. She was nice enough not to tell me I looked like a big black and blue bruise walking around the halls until I asked. What a good friend. The more I thought about it the more I couldn't agree more. Those colors had no business being together. They are the most clashing color combination as far as I'm concerned. I never and I mean never worn that color combination since that startling revelation. Today the sight of those two colors side by side still makes me sick. You can ask my husband. It changed my life.
By the time I was in my junior year I fit right into those Saline High School hallways. I've said it before, and I still think it is truer today: The halls of Saline High look like the Manikins of Hollister came alive and attended classes there.
I even conformed so much that, in my hotter days, I worked for Hollister. Which everyone knows is Ambercombies cheaper counterpart. I had really sold out.
But it's for the best If I hadn't started dressing preppy I would have never been accepted by my peers. I would have never dated boys, and than I would have never had my heart broken. I would have never developed shallow friendships that would end abruptly after we were out of high school and figured out we had nothing in common.WAiT A MiNute HeRe! FASHION HAS RUINED MY LIFE.
....
Well that's how I got into fashion. But it ended pretty badly. After high school I totally lost touch with the media for a good year, and when I back in touch everything had change. Fashion was this weird 80s throw back stuff I had never experience in high school, and don't really know what to do with. Not only that I couldn't afford the fashions anymore because I had to pay for rent and food and stuff like that. You know the stuff that keeps me alive. As a kid it was very easy to keep up with the newest trend because my mom and dad payed for those thing and anything I had I could spend on whatever.
Now, Now I'm being melodramatic
now and days I'm lucky if I get dressed. Sometimes I look okay
.... Ah sometimes, those are good days.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I'm jumping on a bandwagon today.
I'm jumping on!
I'm joining the blogosphere just for the fun of it. I'll do everyone a favor and skip the insecurity rant.
Another reason I'm joining the ranks of the online journalist is because I'm a big fan of my cousins' blogs. They are so funny. So like any good little cousin would; I'm being a copycat. (hope you don't mind Downies)
I have a few ideas for features so far. They are The Untold Stories of Childhood, My Unlikely Dreams, and Pollytics.
That's about it for now.
Wish me luck,
Polly
I'm joining the blogosphere just for the fun of it. I'll do everyone a favor and skip the insecurity rant.
Another reason I'm joining the ranks of the online journalist is because I'm a big fan of my cousins' blogs. They are so funny. So like any good little cousin would; I'm being a copycat. (hope you don't mind Downies)
I have a few ideas for features so far. They are The Untold Stories of Childhood, My Unlikely Dreams, and Pollytics.
That's about it for now.
Wish me luck,
Polly
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