I found this necklace hanging on one of my many trophies (along with my two 4th place ribbons for high jump - I'm sure the pairing was purposeful). And, believe it or not, I wore this necklace for approximately two years straight. I made it in Hawaii - I found the shell and everything - and wore it until I was too afraid that it would break and I would lose it forever. It served as a reminder of that trip, which is one of my most vivid earlier memories (I think I was around 7 or 8 when we went). There was a huge water slide and beautiful pools, and I remember staring across the pools when it rained every afternoon, amazed at how the raindrops caused the pool water to break apart so chaotically. I loved everything about that trip, and I loved wearing this necklace. My neck felt naked for a few days after I took it off, but I think two years straight of school pictures with this gem of a necklace as the star was probably enough.
Once upon a time, I was a girl scout! I learned how to sew, how to keep a tent from flying off with the wind (although evidently I failed at that part - sorry, Mom), and I also got to spend an afternoon modeling clothes in the windows at our local Limited Too with 14 or so of my fellow scouts. In retrospect: kind of weird. But at the time: so fun! We got to run amok in the store, picking out our own outfits to go with the theme that the store manager chose (I think it was like, "summer!" and then another one was "fun!"). Then, mannequins removed from the windows, we struck poses and probably scared a large majority of the passersby. I don't know about you, but I do not expect the display in a store window to be staring back at me (or winking, or sticking tongues out). And then, I suppose, we got these CERTIFICATES to prove how successful we were at the ADVENTURE of fashion. If there's one thing I did not lack as a child, it was certificates. But this is by far my favorite one that I unearthed yesterday.
No child's room is complete without some strange art. And I like to think that I was (and still am, even) fairly artistic. But a lot of the art I found yesterday was, well, kind of scary. I think this piece was one of the most amusing ones, mostly because it reminded me of how freaking much I wanted to please my teachers when I was young. Not to say that I don't still like pleasing my teachers, but a little background: my second grade teacher loved her some tortoises. We even went on a field trip to a man's house where he rehabilitated turtles and tortoises (btw, just googled it: and he passed away a few years ago. Sad: http://www.tortoise.org/cttc/walterallen.html). Anyways, I remember making this project into a turtle just so that she'd like it. I don't remember the result, except for that she was probably just as scary as she always was. Jeez, that teacher was scary. But in clean room news: the only art I deemed worthy of keeping from my second grade pile (who knows where the rest is) was my stack of valentines from my classmates. Awww.
In case you can't tell, this used to be a dreamcatcher. I made it in the third grade, during our unit on the Native Americans who inhabited Los Angeles. I remember being so proud of myself for actually succeeding in getting the stick into a circle and having it stay just with the yarn tie (as opposed to resorting to the hot glue gun). Oh, and I felt very clever to have made the catching area into a star. It used to have feathers and beads dangling off the end, but I guess they fell off over the years and disappeared into the abyss of under-the-bed. I kept this dreamcatcher above my bed for at least 6 years, until I rearranged my bed so that I could have my head under a window (as is now my preference). It brought me comfort as I fell asleep (perhaps the opposite of the clown mobile of yesterday's post) and it made me feel safe during a period of my life in which I had lots and lots of nightmares. So, thank you dreamcatcher.
Reading has been a big part of my life for a long, long time. As such, I think one of the coolest events in LA is the LA Times Festival of Books, which is an entire weekend devoted to books. There are hundreds of booths, authors reading their work, and tons and tons of books. This Dr. Seuss mobile (what's with me and mobiles?) was obtained at the very same festival as when I first discovered The Giver. It was 4th grade or so, and I think it was the first book I read that actually made me wonder about whether the world I lived in was what I thought it was... kind of deep for the 4th grade, I know, but as my dad has told me: "Monica, you were a serious child." This cardboard cutout reminds me of the days I spent at the festival with my family, so happy to be surrounded by books and to be hanging out with my parents and brother. (Also: I just remembered how awesome it was in 9th grade, when I got to see T.C. Boyle read his short stories - and I had just finished reading If the River Was Whiskey. So awesome!)
Another thing I do not lack: stationary and pads of paper of all types. But, this isn't just any fish paper: it's the trail diary I kept (with Robin's, Lisa's, and my dad's help) during the 3 weeks we spent hiking the John Muir Trail. (Robin: another blog for another time!?!?) Each night, after hiking 10+ miles, I'd bust out the pencil and fish paper I'd worked so hard to carry and I'd catalog the events of the day. Sometimes it was upbeat - full sentences even - and sometimes all I could write about was cheeseburgers. And, thinking about all of my attempts at keeping a journal over the years, I think this was the most journal I have ever kept. I wrote each night! And it has served its purpose. I typed up the already-fading notes a few weeks after we finished the trail, and it still makes me smile when I open that file. I don't know if it's just because hiking the JMT was all I did for 3 weeks straight, or if it's because I kept a record of what happened, but I still feel like I was just hiking a few days ago. This feeling gives me hope that keeping this blog will serve a similar purpose.
Tomorrow, I'm headed back home for the day and plan on attacking another corner of my room. More pictures are to follow, I'm sure.
