Monday, November 20, 2006
hang on, let me write that down...
I think Steve and I got married because we both write down things we just did, then cross them off, making a retroactive list as we go along. It gives us a sense of accomplishment, with none of that nagging guilt of writing something down that never gets crossed off.
There are few mundane activities quite so celebrated as The Making of the List. We don't always just write on whatever, we actually buy list paper to keep track of stuff we gotta buy and things we gotta do.
When Steve goes to the store without me, there's no worry involved because I share the blame when I make the list. The other day I added "shiitake mushrooms" to his grocery list, but before he left the house he came back to me to clarify.
"I know what a SPIT take is, but what exactly is a--"
"Remember that time that Snake chewed the cord to the fan?"
"Oh."
Not all of shopping lists are for the grocery store, we always have Target and a Trader Joe's lists going too, and then combine them all on one big list with subcategories for easier shopping. I regularly go to the hardware store, the fabric district downtown, and the art supply store so my lists sometimes look a little funky. Before I left to a go on a splurge fest, Steve asked me what I was after so I read my Master List out loud:
Self-leveling acrylic medium
Sanford 314
Copper tape
2 x 4s
solder wire
eye pins
alginate
Dupioni (root beer or green)
Liquid latex
sandpaper
rope
Vaseline
Rubber gloves
Steve looked concerned for a moment, then excited, then puzzled, until his face finally settled on serious.
"No dear, you are supposed to make your own list, not to pick up someone else's list you find on the ground."
Smart ass.
Every now and then I find one of Steve's lists and am equally perplexed. Why did he write:
Imposters
The Thing
Goldfinger
Top Secret
Die Hard
The Thing
Rope
American Graffiti?
Why do these particular movies belong on a list together? I know it's not his Christmas list because we already have them all. What is the common link? Why is The Thing on there twice? Is one of them the original The Thing and one is the later John Carpenter version? Then why are they not differentiated by dates or directors? How does he know which is which? What if these aren't the titles of movies at all but a list of chores he wanted to accomplish over the weekend? Good thing I've got my rubber gloves.
Often I wake up with lists and other little nuggets written on scraps of paper next to the bed, sometimes in my handwriting and sometimes in Steve's. I have a nice piece of paper with duckies all over it and scrawled in Steve's handwriting: "Featherduster." Steve said I asked him to write it down for me at 3am, but I don't remember doing that.
I do believe him: he has been taking my sleep-talking dictation for years. On January 2nd of 1999 at 6:47am I said, "You take airplanes and twist them into balloon animals. I want a doggie with the people still in it." I know this because Steve carefully recorded it for me on the back of an envelope. Since that day, I've tried several times to explain to him what I meant, but he still doesn't get it. Another morning, I told our cat, Jones, who had lost the use of one eye to cancer, "If you shaved your head, you would look just like a one-eyed Kojak."
Not everything comes from just sleep talking, drinking is also a good way to come across that "WTF was I thinking?" paper the next day. A few years ago, on Thanksgiving, my parents, Steve, and Cathy and I shared a suite in Vegas. Steve and I went to bed early, as is our habit (even in Vegas we're old) but my mom and Cathy stayed in the Casino until late into the night. I woke up sometime in the morning when my mom came bursting into our room, "QUICK! HELP ME FIND A PIECE OF PAPER! Cathy kept saying the funniest stuff and I have to write it down!" Mom tore the room apart until she found the obligatory notepad and pen next to the phone and furiously wrote for about three minutes.
The next day at lunch, as Cathy and Mom sat there holding their heads and gulping coffee, I asked my mom what was so gosh-darn funny that she had to write it down in the middle of the night.
"Oh yeah! Let me find that." She was already laughing as she started excitedly digging through her purse to find the papers from the night before. After glancing over them, she turned them over and looked on the back, her brows furrowed.
"That wasn't really all that funny," she said and threw them back in her purse.
Sometimes I get story ideas that I jot down on the nearest available paper, only to have no idea what it means later. Recently, an old yellow piece of paper surfaced on my desk:
V8
Tampons
2 electric toothbrushes
Brain transplant organic material for old "self" to absorb into
I might have brain transplants figured out, but it would take too long to explain. It has nothing to do with the two electric toothbrushes, that was a separate thought.
My friend Jennie sent me a book called "Found" for Christmas last year. Found is a really fun collection of just such things: lists and letters that people have found and sent in to be published. Everything is in its original form so you can appreciate the medium used, handwriting, and doodles. It's a completely fascinating read because it raises so many questions and gives you a scary look into the lives of our fellow Earthlings.
Scraps of paper everywhere, and I can't throw one of them away, because what if some day I can use them to crack the code? I don't know what code, but I'm sure I have it written down here somewhere.
There are few mundane activities quite so celebrated as The Making of the List. We don't always just write on whatever, we actually buy list paper to keep track of stuff we gotta buy and things we gotta do.
When Steve goes to the store without me, there's no worry involved because I share the blame when I make the list. The other day I added "shiitake mushrooms" to his grocery list, but before he left the house he came back to me to clarify.
"I know what a SPIT take is, but what exactly is a--"
"Remember that time that Snake chewed the cord to the fan?"
"Oh."
Not all of shopping lists are for the grocery store, we always have Target and a Trader Joe's lists going too, and then combine them all on one big list with subcategories for easier shopping. I regularly go to the hardware store, the fabric district downtown, and the art supply store so my lists sometimes look a little funky. Before I left to a go on a splurge fest, Steve asked me what I was after so I read my Master List out loud:
Self-leveling acrylic medium
Sanford 314
Copper tape
2 x 4s
solder wire
eye pins
alginate
Dupioni (root beer or green)
Liquid latex
sandpaper
rope
Vaseline
Rubber gloves
Steve looked concerned for a moment, then excited, then puzzled, until his face finally settled on serious.
"No dear, you are supposed to make your own list, not to pick up someone else's list you find on the ground."
Smart ass.
Every now and then I find one of Steve's lists and am equally perplexed. Why did he write:
Imposters
The Thing
Goldfinger
Top Secret
Die Hard
The Thing
Rope
American Graffiti?
Why do these particular movies belong on a list together? I know it's not his Christmas list because we already have them all. What is the common link? Why is The Thing on there twice? Is one of them the original The Thing and one is the later John Carpenter version? Then why are they not differentiated by dates or directors? How does he know which is which? What if these aren't the titles of movies at all but a list of chores he wanted to accomplish over the weekend? Good thing I've got my rubber gloves.
Often I wake up with lists and other little nuggets written on scraps of paper next to the bed, sometimes in my handwriting and sometimes in Steve's. I have a nice piece of paper with duckies all over it and scrawled in Steve's handwriting: "Featherduster." Steve said I asked him to write it down for me at 3am, but I don't remember doing that.
I do believe him: he has been taking my sleep-talking dictation for years. On January 2nd of 1999 at 6:47am I said, "You take airplanes and twist them into balloon animals. I want a doggie with the people still in it." I know this because Steve carefully recorded it for me on the back of an envelope. Since that day, I've tried several times to explain to him what I meant, but he still doesn't get it. Another morning, I told our cat, Jones, who had lost the use of one eye to cancer, "If you shaved your head, you would look just like a one-eyed Kojak."
Not everything comes from just sleep talking, drinking is also a good way to come across that "WTF was I thinking?" paper the next day. A few years ago, on Thanksgiving, my parents, Steve, and Cathy and I shared a suite in Vegas. Steve and I went to bed early, as is our habit (even in Vegas we're old) but my mom and Cathy stayed in the Casino until late into the night. I woke up sometime in the morning when my mom came bursting into our room, "QUICK! HELP ME FIND A PIECE OF PAPER! Cathy kept saying the funniest stuff and I have to write it down!" Mom tore the room apart until she found the obligatory notepad and pen next to the phone and furiously wrote for about three minutes.
The next day at lunch, as Cathy and Mom sat there holding their heads and gulping coffee, I asked my mom what was so gosh-darn funny that she had to write it down in the middle of the night.
"Oh yeah! Let me find that." She was already laughing as she started excitedly digging through her purse to find the papers from the night before. After glancing over them, she turned them over and looked on the back, her brows furrowed.
"That wasn't really all that funny," she said and threw them back in her purse.
Sometimes I get story ideas that I jot down on the nearest available paper, only to have no idea what it means later. Recently, an old yellow piece of paper surfaced on my desk:
V8
Tampons
2 electric toothbrushes
Brain transplant organic material for old "self" to absorb into
I might have brain transplants figured out, but it would take too long to explain. It has nothing to do with the two electric toothbrushes, that was a separate thought.
My friend Jennie sent me a book called "Found" for Christmas last year. Found is a really fun collection of just such things: lists and letters that people have found and sent in to be published. Everything is in its original form so you can appreciate the medium used, handwriting, and doodles. It's a completely fascinating read because it raises so many questions and gives you a scary look into the lives of our fellow Earthlings.
Scraps of paper everywhere, and I can't throw one of them away, because what if some day I can use them to crack the code? I don't know what code, but I'm sure I have it written down here somewhere.
