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Monthly Archives: February 2011

Dance with me?

Day 28 – a picture of something you’re afraid of

I know, this doesn’t look very scary.  I mean, maybe it does, but it’s a picture of me, and who is afraid of herself?

Okay, so maybe you should be scared of me, because I look a little possessed in this shot, but here’s what really scares me.  (And I bet it’s scared you, too).

Dancing alone.

For the rest of my life.

I go to lots of dance-related functions: weddings, salsa night, swing at Glen Echo.  I usually go with a group of friends, or even by myself.  That doesn’t really bother me too much.  If you walk past my store on a particularly slow evening, you might even catch me practicing the newest steps I’ve learned behind the register.

What really scares me, though, is that I’m never going to have anyone I can always dance with.  Someone to “save the last dance” for.  Someone who is willing to dance with me even though I try to lead.  Preferably someone who can lead better than me.

What scares me is that all my friends are getting married (or are already married and having kids) and I hardly ever go out on dates.  Because I suppose the one thing that scares me even more than dancing alone is actually asking someone to dance.


It’s like a national holiday

Day 27 – a picture of yourself and a family member

Every July, on the Saturday closest to the 13th, my mom’s side of the family has a crab feast.  We don’t call it a family reunion, although I guess it would qualify as such.  It’s just the crab feast.  Just 50 or so of your closest family members, a giant white canopy, and a few bushels of crabs.  And burgers and dogs and other picnic style food to tide you over while you pick a few crustaceans and catch up with the cousins.

Unfortunately, this picture was taken towards the end of this year’s festivities, and is missing a few of the usual suspects.  It’s still a great shot of 4 generations on a hot summer day.  Grandma and Sister Michael are our matriarchs, Christopher, Tina, Mark, and Eric are my mom’s siblings (as are Stephen and Albie, who weren’t in attendance this year), and that row of lovely ladies in the middle is just a smattering of my cousins.  Not to mention the latest and greatest great-grandbabies frolicking in the foreground!

This July, we’ll have two more cousins married since last year, and two more great-grandbabies.  Somehow, there will still be enough crabs to go around.

Listen, my children

Day 26 – a picture of something that means a lot to you.

I think a sense of humor is very, very important in life.  Most particularly, I think being able to laugh at yourself from time to time is essential.  Not necessarily the “gosh, aren’t I hoot I have the most funniest jokes” kind of laugh at yourself, but the “well that was stupid of me” kind of laughs.

Since we don’t usually take pictures of those moments, though, I bring you this short story instead.

Once upon a time I went to Boston to visit my darling sister.  We did a little sight-seeing.  Among other things, we visited the Granary Burial Ground, where many important historical figures are buried:  the victims of the Boston Massacre, Samuel Adams, Mother Goose.  And Paul Revere.

I needed a picture with Paul Revere(‘s grave).

How does one pose with a grave?  It’s a good question.  And since I didn’t think the first trying-to-look-sad picture had much merit (or authenticity of expression) I decided to have V give it another shot.

Which really might be more inappropriate for a grave picture, but again, how does one pose for a graveside photo-op?

Please let me know if you have a good answer.

The Hope Diamond Factory

Day 25 – a picture of your day.

Hi, my name is Joe Laurie.  I work in the button diamond factory.  One day the boss a customer came to me and said, “Can you engrave these 34 paperweights for me.  And I said, “Sure.”

Then I unpacked all the diamond paperweights and whipped out my camera to take a picture for my trusty readers.

And then I held one to show you the scale.  Please remember from my previous post that I DO NOT have freakishly large man hands.

Then I tried to take after engraving shots, but that failed miserably but confirmed my suspicions that TR just photoshops engraving on to all their pics.  Engraved glass does not show up well in photos.


What should I make this title?

Day 24 – a picture of something you wish you could change

I have analysis paralysis.  Usually I’m okay with overthinking things, because there are a lot of things in life that deserve plenty of though.  Quitting a job without having another job lined up, for example.  Buying a car.  Moving to a new town.

Unfortunately, I accomplished those last two things in less time than it usually takes me to make a birthday list. That process goes something like this:

Don’t even get me started on how long it takes to write an email to a guy.

So…I guess since my birthday is only 9 months away, I should get busy on this year’s list.

Laurism #1: Judge books by their covers

Day 23 –  a picture of your favorite book

My fifth grade teacher had this book in her classroom library.  I probably looked at it at least 100 times, and never picked it up.  It looked stupid.

This cover looks even dumber:

This cover makes me wonder if the artist even read the book:

This cover made me pick up the book and fall in love with it:

And then voraciously consume the rest of the Time Quintet and other L’Engle writings.

So let this be a lesson to you, children.  Original artwork is not always best.

And because I love to read, and because I saw something that reminded me of another book I love, here’s a bonus:

Go read it now.  It will make you cry, but it is so very worth the soggy Kleenex.

I only dance in the street with strange men on special occasions

Day 22 – a picture of something two things you wish you were better at

These things go together like gay hairdressers and tight black t-shirts.

Thing number one I wish I was better at:  dancing.

This particular picture is from Oktoberfest in the streets of Fredericksburg, circa 2009.  I am polka dancing.

Polka dancing isn’t really the type of dancing I wish I was better at.  I wish I was better at most other types of dancing.  Salsa, swing, cha-cha, waltz.  That’s more the type I want to improve in.

Part two of this picture is boys.  Not this particular one, who I haven’t seen since (or before this dance, for that matter).  But dating in general.  My loyal reader(s?) may recall that metro fiasco that was my last date.  Really, though, the getting dates is the hard part.  Probably because I’m not so proactive about getting them.  Call me old-fashioned.  I won’t object.

P.S. I don’t really have a man-hand like this picture implies.  It’s totally proportional to the rest of my non-man-sized body.

P.P.S.  These things go together because ideally men like taking women dancing.  If they’re smart, they know it is worth the sacrifice.  If they’re perfect, they know how to lead.