A Month of Fundays: Day 29 – Go Someplace in Your Town/City You’ve Never Been Before

This was a funday activity originally suggested by my friend Matt. I instantly thought it was a good idea, but since I’ve lived in the same town for most of my life I also thought it might not work for me.

I’ve been everywhere in Bloomington, MN, haven’t I?
We moved to Bloomington at the end of my first grade year of elementary school; I’m guessing May of 1982. I’ve lived in five different locations in Bloomington since then – but always the same city. To be fair, this town isn’t small. It fights with Duluth on a regular basis for bragging rights at the third largest city in MN (after Minneapolis and St. Paul – the Twin Cities) and usually wins (says the girl from Bloomington). It also has a large land area and encompasses MN landmarks like The Mall of America and the Minneapolis / St Paul International Airport (MSP) as well as the only IKEA in the state – all locations I’ve been to more times than I can count.

Maybe I haven’t been to EVERY place; there are a lot of places to go here. I made a list and came up with a number of local businesses I haven’t been too because they are new and quickly planned to go to one of these. I think this might be cheating. It’s not really surprising that I haven’t been to Poor Richard’s Commonhouse or Cowboy Jack’s because they’ve both only been open a year or less. And then I realized I have been to both – at least in the buildings, they were just known as Major’s (Ah, crappy hour: Lots of memories there.) and Steak & Ale then.

I thought about some older locations and pondered the living in the same place for nearly thirty years dilemma one more time. I think I need to move. But then Stacy and Amy and their families are both back in Bloomington now and I can walk to the part-time job-hobby and I like it – Chris and I are quite happy here. Maybe I’ll stay for a little longer then...

In the end I did cheat, but only a little. I went to two places in Bloomington. One I’ve never been to before and the other I’ve been too, but not for at least 25 years.

Where did we go today?

Scoops Ice Cream & More
This place is almost as much a Bloomington icon as the Mall of America and it’s only been open since 1994 – the year I graduated from high school. Granted the Mall of America has only been open since 1992, but who’s counting. What in the world did we do in Bloomington before MOA and Scoops? Wow, I would hate to think that these two institutions put us on the map…that probably didn’t happen until IKEA in 2004. Regardless, ice cream was the chosen venue today.

Scoops is small but homey: A sort of ma & pop location with a candy store type display on one wall and two counters of ice cream from local creameries to choose from. They have a wall (Well, I counted three walls.) of signed photos from celebrities – local and international stars of sports, acting, music and politics all made out to ‘Scoops’ with lots of love and ice cream. I’m guessing about 10 people standing fit into the store front, but there are four tables nonetheless: two more table out in the hallway and two more Adirondack-type chairs outside and across the boulevard with ‘Scoops’ written on them. Chris and I both had waffle cones – I had “Pirates Booty” and Chris had “Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake” – and yes, the ice cream was scrumptious. IT’S ICE CREAM!

What astounded me was how similar the entire experience was to the going-for-ice-cream-funday in Duluth. That Malt Shop – the one in Duluth, a good two hour drive from Scoops – which is possibly 2 miles from my house, give or take a bit. I’ve been to that Malt Shop in Duluth at least 12 times in my life. Why do we constantly look outside of our own home-sphere to find these experiences? Maybe we don’t, maybe it’s just me. I just said I’ve lived in the same place for almost 30 years – but if you add up all of the time I spend traveling, including studying and living in London, you could easily shave two years off of that total – maybe more. Maybe all of you have been everywhere in your towns; in which case this is a ridiculous blog post and you should stop reading it. This IS a ridiculous blog post because I’m wondering these big, huge things after going to get ice cream at a place down the street I’ve never been to before – but there it is.

Also, I really don’t think I’m alone in this. We all get trapped in our paths and routines. I’m all about breaking the routine frequently. You see and experience so much more when you look up every once in a while. I’m nearing the end of this month of fundays which has been a self discovery journey as much as a writing/blogging journey and a having fun journey. In the end I had to come away with something, didn’t I? Otherwise why are you all reading this?

Normandale College’s Japanese Garden

With ice cream in hand Chris and I drove over to Normandale Community College and walked around the Japanese Garden. Yes, of course I’ve been to the Japanese Garden. It’s like 6 blocks from my house. I mean that would be crazy not to go in a place I drive, walk, bike or bus past at least twice everyday. Actually, I haven’t been since like 1984 and Chris – who went to college at Normandale when he moved to this country because he was still too young to go anywhere else – hasn’t been since he graduated in 1995 (The year we started living together). Oh, those Japanese Gardens.

The garden was dedicated in 1976 – so no newness there. My opinion of the garden: Lovely, but much smaller than it seemed when I was six-years-old. There’s huge koi and Japanese maple and mugo pine – some of my favorite things. Seriously, what is wrong with me? Do I have blinders on! A garden and an ice cream shop – neither is a stretch for my lifestyle or anything. I spend many a day writing in, walking around or listening to an outdoor concert in gardens. I could – and would – eat ice cream everyday if it had the same calorie intake as tea. I mean yummy things and sunshiny nature places are all I’ve been blogging about this entire month; and yet here are two places literally in my backyard, both going unnoticed by me.

It does sound like my day was more aggravating than fun, but I promise it was a good day with new experiences in it. Try it. No, really. I would like other people to have as much as fun as I did today while also being annoyed with themselves and their own short sidedness. Please…

Picture: Where did you go today? A picture of yourself at the place you’ve never been before.

Song: R.E.M’s “Stand” and Mary Chapin Carpenter’s (because, really when is there not an MCC song for one of my blog posts) “I am a Town”.

Tomorrow: Attend a State Fair, County Fair or Renaissance Festival

A Month of Fundays: Day 27 – Garden Party or Barbeque

I had visions of making this the last blog post for my fundays and filling it with pictures of a great big garden party in my backyard with lots of homemade Mexican food a la Rick Bayless; including a river of Sangria and a mountain of fresh salsa. All of my friends would be gathered around and we’d talk for hours – but honestly, that was my wedding and this is normal, every day life. Oh, and we had Italian at the wedding.

Then I wrote this post and realized it was the same as the dinner party and the hanging out with friends and also, possibly I have a social eating problem – my really fun, relaxing times tend to deal with food. Because when I’m at home by myself I have things like tea with toast and grapes with cheese as a meal. I deleted that post and will try again.

No fancy garden party – tonight we did a Matt & Mara dinner night – but with BBQ! Actually, that’s not unheard of because Matt makes the best hamburgers on the grill and we ask for them repeatedly. There was quite a crew tonight – Matt & Mara with their baby Xander, and also Chris & I and my mom, and then both Shane and Amy made it as well. Full house of fun times – especially when you toss in the two Labradors – Kayleigh and Riley.

There IS something about eating outside – it makes the food taste better or something. Plus the bunnies and squirrels become much more interested in you when there’s food around. But really, in the end my fun day activity revolves around boring you with how lucky I am some days. I complain about money, and the part-time job-hobby, and the lack of being published and the economy and politics and my country and the world and SO MANY things. I complain a lot, trust me. And then for 31 days I decide to do something fun – not expensive or really that out of the ordinary for me – and discover that I am one lucky girl when I DO stop and think about it. What exactly am I complaining about? Today I got to spend the evening chatting, eating, looking at baby pictures, petting cuddly dogs and playing with a baby and all while spending time with some of my favorite people in the entire world - people whom genuinely care about me. Before I wrote it down I never realized how many of those people I’ve included in my day to day life. SO LUCKY!

The BBQ was fun – a garden party would be cool too – but mostly, tonight, I’m just happy to be me and spend time with those people embracing everything fun I’ve done this month. I’m even lucky to be old, yo – because it takes a while to collect those people into your life and even longer to enjoy having them there.

Picture: What are you serving at the garden party/BBQ? How are you decorating? What music are you playing – yes, that’s not a picture; it’s a question though…feel free to answer.

Song: I’m obvious again: Going with Ricky Nelson’s “Garden Party”; and also leaving you with Nelson’s version – which is more like a memorial for their dad, but still quite good. I think I might have underrated Nelson.

Tomorrow: Wander around a Museum

PS – I know the month is over, but I’m still a few days behind so you’ll get blog posts musing for the next few days to finish up. I did the things, I might as well write about them!

A Month of Fundays: Day 19 – Hanging Out With Good Friends

At this point you’re thinking, Duh, Mariah. Of course it is fun to hang out with friends. You may also be thinking that a lot of the activities I’ve already talked about I did with friends or can be done with friends; and you are not wrong. I think I’m trying to get at the very heart of being human – or enjoying life. Surrounded by people who love you, or at least people who like you a good deal; you know – those people:

It’s habit alone keeps you turning from home, even though your home is right here, where the people who love you are gathered under the wise wishing tree…’Cause the people who love you are waiting and they’ll wait just as long as needs be.
--Mary Chapin Carpenter, “Jubilee”

Yes, those people. The ones who don’t judge you until you’ve delivered all of the facts and even then, they love you just the same. There, that sounds slightly less sappy then whatever it is I wrote up above.

I know the simple act of hanging out with those people is hard for some, due to distance or time or what have you, but try today. Call them up, Skpe, chat on-line, whatever; our world is becoming increasingly smaller – it’s just not that hard to stay in contact anymore. Of course, in person is somehow always more soul-fulfilling and I recommend that if at all possible.

Today was a rough day. No longer shrouded in my little cocoon of mini-break euphoria with only my husband and lots of nature; I had to go back to the part-time job-hobby this morning and then deal with DIY home improvements at the house. Why am I a packrat? What do I think will happen if I don’t have that one thing from that one time lying in a box somewhere in the bowels of my home? We DID get to toss and donate about 70% of the things living in our downstairs area. Which, yes, IS fun at the end of the project but I can’t even make myself believe cleaning, sorting, re-carpeting, painting and minor carpentry is a funday activity.

I was actually beginning to wonder where the funday activity would come in when the phone rang. It was Amy wondering if we were still on for dinner with Stacy. Then 30 minutes of back and forth phoning/laughing began and our plans were set in motion. It is amazing how indecisive best friends for 25 years can be when we try to coordinate a date, time and place to see each other. Many years ago we decided T.G.I Fridays would be our designated place of congregation. Not because it’s so great or anything – simply because it’s centrally located and we can hear ourselves talking. Oh, just to be in the presence of my two best friends for a couple of hours restored my soul and lifted my spirits. I often feel sorry for the wait-staff at Friday’s – they rarely serve us alcohol but I think they still wonder if they should cut us off or kick us out. We are loud and obnoxious whilst together. Amy, you totally need to be cut off from the diet soda – SERIOUSLY! There, try to figure out how to comment on this post now – bwa ha ha ha.

The take away today: My life would be lacking many things, my laughs and smiles would be far less, and my human connections would be stunted if I did not get to hang out with those people now and again.

However you choose to hang out, have fun today.

Picture: Your friends – then or now or both. Or a picture of one of the many inside jokes you share with those people. You know, something only they'd understand. I would, of course, never do that in a blog post. Nope, not at all.

Song: You’d think the song I already quoted earlier in the post, but no, YouTube doesn’t have that song. Instead I leave you with Violent Femmes, “Blister in the Sun” and Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl" (Sue). I don’t really expect this choice to make sense to anyone except Amy and Stacy. Here’s to us, ladies!

Tomorrow: Play a Round of Miniature Golf or Some Other Lawn Sport

A Month of Fundays: Day 7 – Movie in the Park

Text message to Amy: You don’t want a peanut. Boo!
Response message: I suck! Were there rocks ahead?

At the time I sent today’s text (Last night’s message, OK. Now you all know I write about the fun thing the day after I do it. Magic spoiled!), Chris and I were sitting on blankets in the middle of Victory Memorial Drive Park (which is just some green space in the boulevard of said Drive) waiting for The Princess Bride to appear on screen. Amy was supposed to be there. Matt & Mara and Stacy & Elliott were trying to find babysitters so they could join us, but in the end it was just the two of us - Date Night. Chris was a good sport about the whole thing. He doesn’t much go in for sitting on the ground for that length of time and I swear one of the reasons I married him is because the mosquitoes don’t attack me when he’s around. But, The Princess Bride! I can’t quantify my favorite movie (or book, or song), but this one ranks in the top 10. About 15 minuets before the movie was due to start, the man inflating the portable movie screen walked up to the crowd – including 20 girls between the ages of 6 and 10 celebrating a birthday – and told us the movie was canceled for the night due to a storm front coming through. I had to feel sorry for the poor man because 20 girls at a birthday party, hyped up on sugar and the possibility of staying up late, can be a feral, angry mob. Luckily he was met with mostly shouts of, “NO!” and angry foot stomping…from me, at least. The girls attacked like wild dogs. And that was my fun day!

Or, disappointment abounded – except from my husband – whose legs were cramping up already) but we all managed to leave the park without incident or injury. The birthday party was wrangled with hopes of Red Box and pizza dancing in their heads, Chris had everything packed and in the car before I could stand up, and we returned home without my funday activity for the day.

Rolling with the punches, we made it home and laid our blankets out again on the living room floor, grabbed the kettle corn and m&ms and popped The Princess Bride into the blu-ray. It wasn’t quite the same as a movie in the park or on a rooftop, but we still managed to have fun and enjoy a favorite movie. As a side note: Chris told me it was a good thing we didn’t see the movie in the park because I’m pretty sure I can recite it verbatim and apparently, I was speak/whispering along during most of it. Oops.

I would like to point out that had Amy and Stacy joined us in the park and the movie was a go, then I would not be alone in the speak/whispering. In fact, I’m guessing we would have been quite obnoxious. This is the problem with having the same two friends since the first grade – you’ve sat around many a sleepover watching The Princess Bride whilst reciting all of the lines. Or, even better: Your first year of college – when you’re all discombobulated and the new-fangled internets are actually both new and fangled – you receive an email with an attachment from one of your best friends. The attachment is a transcript of the screenplay to The Princess Bride. It becomes lame when you sit in the computer room at your college wasting valuable computer time by reading the entire transcript; but somewhere inside you know this growing up thing isn’t all about change. You do get to keep some friends and some habits from before.

Movie in the park or movie in your living room, as long as the movie and the company are good, I’d say it’s a fun day!

I think it’s quite possible to do one of those everything-I-need-to-know-about-life-I-learned-from things – Princess Bride-style. It would look something like this:

Good, then pour the wine – I do not envy the headache you’ll have when you wake, but in the meantime: dream of large women – I do not think it means what you think it means – If there are rocks ahead, we really will all be dead – Aristotle, Socrates, and Plato are all morons – My way is not very civilized – Life is pain; anyone who tells you different is selling something – We have already succeeded – Get some rest. If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything – Clearly, you have a dizzying intellect – Now, was that so terrible? – Lies do not become us – There's not a lot of money in revenge - Always count the wheelbarrow and the holocaust cloak amongst your list of assets – Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line – The Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners – Stand your ground – You mocked me once, never do it again – When I say you're a coward, that is only because you are the slimiest weakling to ever crawl the earth - Have fun storming the castle – I am never wrong – You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles - Marriage is a blessed arrangement; a dream within a dream – Death cannot stop true love; all it can do is delay it a while – Someday you may not mind the kissing parts so much – As you wish

Picture: Um. You’re picnic spread, the people watching whatever movie you see outside (free movies bring out all types and kinds), your favorite childhood birthday party. Or, just tell me about your favorite birthday party. What movie did you go see?

Song: The Foundation’s “Build Me Up, Buttercup”

Apparently Morgan Burke, McFly and Busted do covers of the song in this clip.

Tomorrow: Origami – Learning to Make Something Out of Paper

A Lesson from My Eighth Grade Self

I did that thing today where I stopped writing in frustration and decided I’d chosen the wrong profession. I’m fairly certain every writer goes through it, but I had extra qualms today when I thought about how much writing I actually did in my formative years. Yes, I was on the yearbook staff in high school, but that’s about it. No literary magazine, no newspaper, no file full of short stories and poems; in fact not much creative writing to speak of. I tried to have a Journalism minor in college, but hated the three courses I took in that department and quickly dropped the minor; ironically opting for pre-law only to later give up my free-ride to law school in order to write.

So here I sit during week two of November and I’m contemplating my choice of profession as well as why I’ve decided to do NaNoWriMo this year. In a moment of pure brilliance I went downstairs to stare at my bookshelves for inspiration. I’m not sure why – reading isn’t the same as writing. I can’t imagine being a writer without being a lover of books, but the two aren’t mutually exclusive. What I found while staring at the bookshelves was a journal. In fact, not just one – I counted 30 journals. I do vaguely remember journaling as a child – keeping a diary under lock and key to keep it away from my imaginary little brother I guess. Since I keep them all on a shelf now, I must trust my real husband more than my imaginary little brother. I pulled a few journals down in an attempt to discover the writer-in-my-early-years. I assumed most of those journals would be empty because I remember leaving a lot of journaling undone. I expected gaps of months (much like this blog) or even years.

What I found was quite the opposite. Here’s my proof; here is my mind as a small child and adolescent always writing down observations, feelings and ideas. I have journals from elementary school, junior high and even high school. I have travel journals and S.A.M notebooks. Sure, not all of them were complete; sure, they weren’t full of made up tales, stories and teen-angst poetry – but they are still MY words.

The S.A.M. Notebook
What’s a S.A.M. you ask? S.A.M. is an acronym for Stacy, Amy and Mariah – we invented the acronym in the second or third grade and used it throughout school and beyond. How far beyond? Well Stacy’s eldest daughter is Samara or SAM for short (her youngest daughter’s name, Emily incorporates the first letter of all of our middle names as well).

Amy missed a lot of seventh grade – she was struck down with a severe case of mono and missed the last five months of the school year. She’s brilliant, so this didn’t really affect her learning curve or anything; we just missed having her around and in classes with us. Stacy and I started writing down our school experiences in a notebook and then we’d send it home with Amy’s homework assignments; she’d write down her illness experiences and send it back to us. The notebook stuck – even after Amy joined us again in the eighth grade. I think by this time we realized all three of us were heading down very different paths and may not have time to be friends in high school. I had band and synchro; Stacy had running and skiing; and Amy had theatre and all of those languages.
The three of us kept the notebook going throughout most of high school. Oh, the days before email, text messaging and facebook. So yes, I didn’t just want to write early on, I made my friends do it with me. I guess you can look at the notebook as practice for the type of fiction I find myself writing about now.

1990: One Year of Journaling
When I sat down with my stack of journals today, I pulled out the most complete one. The year was 1990 and I received the journal as a Christmas present from my mom (so says the title page – complete with full name, address and phone number). Most of the other journals and diaries I leafed through were only half full at best – but apparently in 1990 I had a lot to say. Now you may call this procrastination, but I still read through the entire journal. I found out the end of my eighth grade year and the beginning of my high school career was a transitional time indeed. By December of 1990 my writing voice had changed dramatically, I’d even started to use the right form of it’s and its – as well as there/their/they’re (thank goodness!).

My eighth grade self taught me some valuable lessons today. It appears I spent most every waking moment I could find writing down observations and character sketches. Like most early teen girls I obsessed about boys – gushed when the boy I had a crush on told me I was beautiful in front of his girlfriend. I spent pages describing band concerts and all of the subtle nuances involved in close circuit interaction without words that can only happen when you share a stage with someone; how you become a part of the whole – a well-oiled machine working on some higher, almost telepathic level. I jotted down notes about swimming – my jubilation at making varsity in eighth grade and my foul response to finding myself in the group routine with my nemesis. Did you know eighth graders had arch-enemies? I felt a little like Sherlock Holmes while reading that segment. There was some lovely (read: sappy) lyrical stuff in there about how music filled every aspect of my life (I’ve always been quite the Romantic) and lovelier (read: sappier) material about taking the stage during my last junior high band concert, including shared moments with a truly kindred spirit (don’t worry, we’re facebook friends now) and my first summer 6 – 10 marching band practice. So many transitions!

Lesson Learned
I get it already: I’ve always been a writer. I spent years writing about awkward social interactions – no wonder I write YA in my adult life. My main characters tend to be eighteen & nineteen year-old girls transitioning between childhood and adulthood; apparently the transitional years affected me the most. I used to write about music and now I can’t write unless there is music. As an adult I’m so very different than my eighth grade self. I have different concerns – I hadn’t gone through those really life changing stages of my life yet – but I’m still so similar.

This is why I NaNo every year. It really is more than just 50,000 words; it’s a soul-searching, truth confronting sort of month – a transition all its own. Don’t worry about my novel word count: I’m currently at 12,245. What I’ve gained is a little more self-confidence and a long overdue chat with my eighth grade self. We had some things to sort out and some dreams to recreate. I’ve also gained a decent lesson plan for a journaling class at the Loft. I’ll have to type up a proposal and send it in. Hopefully some of you teenage students living in MN will be interested.