Category Archives: Childhood Reminiscing

Why do we have to Share?

Posted on December 7, 2011 by funnygurl2

I am an only child. IT WAS GREAT! I highly recommend it. All the toys were mine! All the holiday candy was mine! Sure, I did get bored quite often, which felt like suffering at the time. But I also believe that boredom helped me to personally develop the three areas I am most proud of: my imagination, my creativity, and entertainment trivia knowledge.

This brings me to my question: Why do we have to share? Think about how little kids play. As soon as Kid A picks up a toy, Kid B wants to play with it. Should Kid A have to give it up? I say, Kid B should have to wait till Kid A is done with it.

What if the situation were such that Kid B was visiting Kid A’s house. I believe Kid A should have the right to say which toys Kid B is allowed to play with. Kid A has been taught to respect and take care of his or her toys because they will not be replaced. What if Kid B doesn’t view the world like that?

And “You should share” gets misused all the time. I have a perfect example. I was an elementary school kid on the playground. I had brought my new toy to school. A certain boy wanted to play with it, so he said “You have to share.” I looked at him and laughingly said, “No I don’t!” He was the kind of boy that would have run off with my possession and I never would have seen it again. He was a vile creature, who I still hate to this day, and I am very glad he grew up to be a giant loser. So there, sucker!

As grownups, we don’t have to share. We don’t share our homes (that is squatting), our cars (that is joy riding), or our flat screen TVs (that’s stealing). I guess we need to “share on our own terms.” We should share our wealth with charitable organizations. We should share our good wishes with those in need. We should share our love with others.

My final thought on this subject: Sharing is good, but you are the only person who can look out for you. Don’t let people take advantage of you.

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OMG, who is going to read this? What are they going to think of me? Is my blog just totally lame…

Posted on October 15, 2011 by funnygurl2

Anxiety: 1. the state of being anxious. 2. concern about an imminent danger, difficulty, etc.
Anxious: 1. uneasy in the mind.

I have anxiety. It often changes how I go about living my life, but I do the best I can to not be beat down by it. For people who don’t have it (or don’t have it in large quantities), it is probably hard for them to imagine what it is like.

My most recent example is that I wanted to buy two $5 gift cards from McDonald’s. I was afraid they would yell at me for not buying food too. Then I was afraid they would yell at me for only putting $5 on the gift cards. I ended up deciding to buy only one gift card, and I bought it at Meijer while I was already there so I wouldn’t have to face the anxiety of McDonald’s at all. (Of course, in all this I forgot that the people at McDonald’s aren’t paid enough to care about anything. That is a dig at McD’s, not at the employees.)

I have dealt with anxiety all my life. When I was younger, if I felt overwhelmed by anxiety, I cried. Which is why I got picked on in school (creating more anxiety, creating more crying, etc.). The prescription drug company commercials used to make me think I had depression (which I have had twice in my life), but that is not what I have every day. My friend had pretty serious anxiety too–maybe even more than me. But she went on prescription drugs and now that is no longer one of her biggest health issues. I don’t want to be a slave to doctors & pharmaceutical companies. I don’t want to deal with side effects. I don’t want to have to take a pill everyday for something that may only hit me a few times a week. Now, if there was “FAST-ACTING ANXIETY NOSE SPRAY FOR URGENT RELIEF”, I would be all over that. The most common time anxiety hits me is when I am trying to fall asleep. I have anxiety attacks about how I don’t want to be dead one day & cease to exist. Ugh, it is making my chect tighten & my stomach churn just to write it. Nose spray would really come in handy at these times.

Here is an excerpt from an old journal I recently found which provides a nice example:

Last night at the casino the food court was more like a cafeteria and I was scared to tell the grill guy that I wanted a cheeseburger. Then I was too scared to go up and get a refill. I just feel like everyone is always going to yell at me.

And no one has ever yelled at me for such things. Here is a poem from around the same time:

Worried
11/2/2000

I worry about things
I know about
I worry about things
I know nothing about
I worry about things
I have never done before
I worry about things
I do every day
I am beginning to feel
worried
that I worry
2much.

My husband doesn’t understand when I ask him to do something for me because I just cannot do it myself. This usually manifests as asking for help for something in a store and having to talk to a sales associate. Or giving my son a bath. I know that when I start the bath, if he starts crying or bumps his head or something, I can’t freak out and leave him in the bathtub naked. I have to finish the bath, no matter what, all the way through to putting on his PJs. And I find this scary. And too often I let my husband give him a bath because 1. he likes to & 2. I don’t have to overcome my anxiety to do it. Anxiety is probably one of the things that kept my mom at home throughout her twenties.

Sorry. Just felt like venting. I have been cleaning my house & unearthed some old poems/emails/journals that got me on this line of thinking. I wanted this blog to be a mish-mash of my life. And this is a big part of my life, even though many close to me do not know it.

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Ode to Punky Brewster

Posted on September 27, 2011 by funnygurl2

When I was a kid, I loved the NBC Television show Punky Brewster. I was in 4th grade and the same age as Punky. There was just something about her spunkiness and colorfulness that I wanted to emulate. Even though in reality I was more like shy Cherie. I used to dress like Punky. I would roll up one leg of my jeans and tie a red (or sometimes purple) bandana around my other leg, tight enough to cut off the circulation. (For the record, Soleil Moon Frye cheated. The costume designer had a loop sewn onto her pants so that her bandana wouldn’t fall down.) I was big on ponytails anyway, so it never bothered me to wear them all the time.

I even gave up my imaginary Sheepdog Sandy for an imaginary Golden Retriever named Brandon as if she was last week’s rotten meat (So sorry Sandy, girl.) For those who don’t know, her dog Brandon was named after the head of NBC at the time, Brandon Tartikoff, who created the show based on a girl he had known growing up with the same name. They had to track her down to get permission to use her name and everything.

She wore a skate key around her neck. At the time I had no frickin’ idea what a skate key was, so I wore a pink whistle around my neck. Later I would make friends with a girl who had a skate key and would loan it to me at school and let me wear it. But that brings back memories of the day she offered to let me wear it and I declined, because I had seen my mom’s car totaled from the school bus window on my way to school. (Don’t worry, she was fine. She lives on to this day to drive me batty.)

I even went Trick or Treating that year as Punky Brewster. For some reason I bought the 80’s plastic costume & mask combo, although I would have been much more convincing in the imitation-Punky wardrobe I wore every day. I bought everything Punky. I had a Punky Brewster messenger-style backpack that not many school books fit in to. I had Punky Brewster craft sets (bead jewelry and clay pins/medals). I had a Punky Brewster T-shirt. I think my favorite were my Punky Brewster sneakers. Although I will never understand why THE SHOES MATCHED! They were multi-colored, but they matched. When in reality, Punky would have had two different colored shoes. Leave it to merchandising money grubbers to get it wrong! My mom threatened for years to throw out my old grubby Punky shoes. I am proud to say I still have them to this day. Except of course they don’t fit anymore. And the plastic on them has gotten sticky over the years (Gross-a-roo!).

A few years ago I got a tattoo inspired by Punky’s sunshine ponytail holders. It is to symbolize my love of Punky and all things TV. Those who know me know that I still mis-match my socks to this day. And while Punky may have started me on the mis-matched road, I believe that it truly reflects my unique personality.

For more Punky, please visit:

You Can Never Get Too Much Punky Brewster https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/08/14/you-can-never-get-too-much-punky-brewster/

My Life Philosophy (Sitcom Style) https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/09/18/my-life-philosophy-sitcom-style/

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Fried Squirrel, anyone?

Posted on August 30, 2011 by funnygurl2

Last week we covered how I wrote (a lot!) in high school. I could not resist sharing a piece or two here for your enjoyment. These two particular poems are about a day that the power went out at school because a squirrel got caught in the transformer (it happened A LOT more often than you might think). They are meant to be read like a Dr. Seuss book. I personally think the second is better than the first, but that is just me. Bear in mind that when I read the second poem to my English teacher Mr. Clark, he just shook his head. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Mr. Clark for teaching me that “a lot” are two words and not one:) Now, without further ado:

The Ballad of the Fried Squirrel
(A.K.A.-The day the lights went out in Blissfield)
4/14/94
In the little old town that had much Bliss
Was a little squirrel who liked to growl & hiss
This mean old squirrel was like no other
He was big & tough & vowed not to be electrocuted–
like his mother.
All the other bushytails in the town were wusses
kept gettin’ electrocuted by running on transformers–
escaping from …cats
Now this mean old squirrel was named Snicker-doodle
And one fateful day he got chased by a poodle
Cornered, that squirrel did done get
And that poodle would not him down let
So, with one giant last leap went Snicker
With no regard for what those volts would do to his ticker
But in the air, as he fell to death & that massive shock,
His fate sealed with a big pad lock,
He chirped in a low squirrel hiss
“Don’t let the kids go home”–that was his dying wish
And, of course, Principal Dave heard it exactly
And last wishes must always be followed promptly
So the town was left without power
For darn near two hours
And all the good little students moaned & groaned
“We just want to go home!”
And so like always, the power came back on
But the legend of that miserable squirrel lives on.

The Legend Lives On
4/14/94
Now the children in that town of Bliss
Where still talking the day after about that
squirrel’s last hiss
That legendary squirrel called Snicker-doodle
That was found by the lunch ladies to taste
very good with noodles
Them hairnets found, that snicker ground
Made a nice little edible burrito meat mound
Now, I’ve got to say how sad I was for those poor
unsuspecting kids
Not even guessing what was about
to stick to their ribs
Squirrel is quite prevelant in the month of May
But fried Snicker-doodle is not approved by the USDA
When the students walked into the lunchroom
They all wanted to know what smelled like an old broom
“Nothing but the usual” the ladies replied back
And the kids dug in, thinking it was just the usual…
bad food
But soon them youngins were writhing in their seats
Darn, done poisoned by that evil rancid meat
Now, as you might guess, the chunks blew for days
Causing a stenchy, food-poisoning haze
There were long, heaving lines for the johns
As the legend of that miserable squirrel lives on

Yes, I know. They are genius. Maybe someday soon I will share my song “mutilation” with you:)

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Shoulda been a writer.

Posted on August 23, 2011 by funnygurl2

As I am in the middle of job hunting, networking, perfecting my resume, a very dear former co-worker of mine complimented my writing skills on a Linkedin recommendation I wrote for another former collegue. She had no idea (well, maybe a little idea) that I have all these creative juices that can, at times, flow all over the place (In the words of Summer Roberts on The O.C. “Ew.).

I liked writing in school. Out of gym, math, and science, it was the least henious. My asbestos friend (I’ll explain it someday, promise) and I used to skip lunch in high school to go to the computer lab and work on personal stories. It seemed like a much more pleasant experience to escape into my creative dreamland than to negotiate the impending embaressment that is the high school lunch room.

I think I always thought I would be a writer someday. Of novels or poetry or TV scripts or newspaper articles. When I got my first grown-up job, I shelled out big bucks to buy a word processor (I know, lame. Even lamer, it was the year 2000!). I sat down one uneventful evening to begin my career as a writer. Then I realized it was work like everything else. That night is sort of when I let my writing dream die. But then…

THE BLOG WAS BORN!!!

The Internet created these things called blogs, where you didn’t have to have someone else “publish” your thoughts–you could just puke them out of yourself for your closest friends to read! Of course, the disadvantage is no marketing support and no paycheck for them. That is why I need everyone who reads this blog to send it to one other person, and so on. So that someday my words might support me afterall. Getting paid just to be me wouldn’t really be work at all.

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