Oktoberfest

Every year, our church has a big fundraiser in the form of an Oktoberfest.  Of course, it's not really an Oktoberfest, it's a bunch of Americans drinking beer and saying, 'See, we're German!' (they didn't even play Sweet Caroline :< )  We volunteered to help out; me at the face painting booth (with Mom as a manager), and Dad at the beer tent.  We had...an interesting night and met some definite characters:

• The previous shift of face painters, who seemed to think this job was the easiest thing in the world (the first shift is always really easy.  Then other kids start seeing the kids with their face painted and BAM)
• Literally dozens of parents forcing their unwilling three year old to sit down, hold still, the nice lady's going to paint a butterfly on your face so I can post a cute instagram, now SHUSH
• The black girl with a glitter skull tshirt that shyly asked me for Wonder Woman face paint.  She makes me feel happy inside :)
• When the kids don't know what they want, I usually try to speed up the process with some prompting of, "How about the butterfly?  It'd match your shirt, wouldn't it?"  One tiny little girl, after this prompting, fiercly declared, "NO.  I want SPIDERMAN."  She was the only girl that I gave super hero face paint (that was not Wonder Woman)
• The group -group?  Squad?  Gaggle? -of 9y.o.ish girls who decided it'd be a good idea to start complaining about how awful face painting was and how face painters were always so annoying while standing right next to me.  I thought this very brave of them, considering the face that I was going to be painting them next and we didn't have a mirror >:)  (no, I didn't paint anything bad on their face.  ....or did I ehehehe)
• The one mother who decided to smoke while standing in our tent
• The posh, professory-voiced man who walked past, explaining to his wife, "Now this is a religious festival, darling-"  I didn't catch the rest but it sounded like he was about to explain how we'd have a fascinating virgin sacrifice later to end off the celebration

I ended up having to go over-shift, since the next shift never showed up, and painted for three hours instead of my originally volunteered two. By the time it was over, I was sore and weak kneed, but a pretzel and a poorly cooked hot dog later, I was home, content and writing this blog post.

Who did you meet today?

P.S.

3 hours of face painting and this was the only personal paint I have to show for it:

Neighbors (New and Improved)

Summer is always a time of change.  More specifically, it's the time of moving trucks and new faces.  A lot of our neighborhood moved over the summer and now our new people are moving in.

We've got the people to the left of us, who have two identical minivans and two girls I will only describe as "the lemonade stand girls".  They also have a dog who is fond of taking himself for walks and a cat that I refer to as Watermelon, since that its approximent size and shape.

Catty corner to us, we have the pair of husbands with the cute white chairs on their front porch and the fluffy dog.  They are mysteriously never home.

Across, we've got the sporty, outdoorsy, adopt-everybody family, who are lovely and also never home. They've got the cute little three year old who wants nothing more to keep up with her big football playing brothers and the mom who, despite being perpetually tired out, mothers every kid in the neighborhood and throws the best block parties ever.

Opposite catty corner is a new family that are only just now moving in.  I'm calling them the Vampire Family.

And then next to us we have the other three year old (who's learning to ride her first big-kid bike right now), the day-working military mum, and the ten year old boy who plays saxaphone in the street in the evenings.

Neighbors are weird, man.

Who did you meet today?

P.S.
I had to look up, "Is it kitty corner or catty corner," because my mom thought it must be, 'kitty'.   Apparently, 'kitty', 'catty', and 'cater' corner are all acceptable, while 'caddy' is not.  #TheMoreYouKnow

Barnes 'n' Noble People: Pt 2

Click here for part one

• The guy with the haircut I would describe as a cross between “weed wacker” and “friendly hedgehog”, telling a long-winded stories about chicks (no, not the bird) to an semi-unwilling looking guy wearing an unfortunate shade of yellow
• A teenage girl with the poofiest dark hair, a coral business jacket and a beautiful floral skirt, and a cat headband who is now my fashion model for the next forever
• The poor, poor tutor that has to put up with a student who hasn’t just mastered the art of procrastinating, he’s destroyed it and become the next-gen procrastinator
• The barista’s face when he heard my mom ask for a pumpkin spice latte
• The guy whose hair was longer than mine and was at least twice my height (not literally; he’d have to be  really tall).  His arm was a sleeve of twisted tattoos; he was wearing a skull-emblazoned t-shirt, punk boots, and skinny jeans, and honestly looking so much more fabulous than me

Who did you meet today?

People You See at Barnes n Noble (An On-Going List)

Sometimes you don't see people who are that weird.  Other times...you see somebody you could only define as, "a character".  I see many of these, "characters," and decided to start writing them down, because... reasons.  Here's the ones I saw, just today:

• The balding man with reading glasses and sunglasses, a no-sleeve cameo shirt, running shorts, and crocs with mix-matched socks reading “The Art of War” (he also had a stack of other books, including history books on both World Wars)
• The equally balding man who sat behind me for 2+ hours reading the same copy of Top Gear, held within inches of his face
• The two black women who loudly marched in, yelled, “OH MY GAWD” when they realized Barnes and Noble was out of cookies (note: this was at 8:30 on a Friday night), complained for five minutes about the apparently lack of cookies and how, “I didn’t need a cookie but oh my gawd I wanted one so bad,” and then abruptly left
• The 20-something blonde who bought a grande coffee and then proceeded to march her stroller around the lobby/cafe space (in four inch heels!) in an attempt to make her crying child sleep (she then left with her presumed husband, chatting about how tired she was)
• Me, who, if you see me, is usually on my laptop, writing (a.k.a. looking frustrated, confused, or hitting my head against the table as I scroll through a document)

Who did you meet today?

Conversation is Sin

I was going through some old files and suddenly remembered a poem I wrote a looong time ago.  Some of it is kind of forced (because I struggle with ryhmning and fluid poetry)  but I think that the message is clear and I wanted to share it with you guys :)



Conversation is Sin

We live in a world where conversation is sin

Can’t speak outside the box that we choose to live in

If others are oppressing us then why don’t we attack

Because we know the demons inside

Would take us as their snack

If our eyesight fails

We blame it on the glasses

Our politicians are blind

Yet

They still lead the masses

Children are getting high

And teenagers are getting drunk

When a kid kills himself

It’s “just hormonal funk”

They say:  He had so much to live for

Something about God closing a door

And then they move on

AND THEN THEY MOVE ON

Like human life

Was made worthless by a knife

And don’t get me started

On the thousands, millions that starve

Can’t find food between the bombs

And the sound of rifle fire

News TV says words like ‘situation’ and ‘dire’

While people are killed

For the cross on their chest

For the people they love

No safe space, no true rest

We can’t talk

They’ve stuffed a gag down our throat

Labeled “everything’s fine”

They hope we don’t see the smoke

Somebody’s going to get offended

And we all shut up

A third world country gets upended

And nobody says a word

We all shake our heads

When we should scream in agony

For the loss of precious life

For the people we can’t see

“Like if you think-”

No shut up!  That’s enough!

You think likes are going to make this any less tough?

We’re not doing anything

Cuz we don’t know what to do

We were taught to ignore

The many and the few