But first, A is for Apologies: 1)For being late with my final Alpha Bits and 2) For subjecting you to them all at once.

Initially I thought I'd spread them out over the next week, but people, my alpha wits are worn to nubbins. Besides, I'm really feeling the need to clean my 2006 plate, so I's can make room for some totally new crap for people to find fault with.*

I'll try to keep them brief.**

V is for Valentine Dance



It was February, 1975 and my junior year in high school. That guy there was the love of my life at the time, and we had been dating for a year and a half. Less than a year later from the night of this dance, the love of my life took the heel of his soul and ground my heart to dust, easy as a strand of pukas. About 25 years later we dated again, briefly, and I kind of returned the favor. ::He was the guy who called and asked if I was still driving a Vulva.::

I always loved this picture, as it represented one of the most exquisitely perfect nights of my high school career. I bought the dress at a store called Gantos Bargain Boutique. Gantos was a kind of a chi-chi clothing store, from where I could only ever afford to buy off the sales wrack. Items that survived the sales wrack were reduced further in price and sent to the Bargain Boutique.

I paid $2.99 for that dress, as is. The only flaw was the tie belt needed to be re-attached at the waist. Even for 1975, 2.99 was cheap. It was the perfect fit and the perfect length. Too bad you can't see to appreciate the tiny black polka dots on the fabric or my shoes. They were 3 inch, black velvet platforms, with a clear plastic sandal foot, topped with a black satin bow. To. Die. For.

My hair was very thin and fine and highly temperamental, and my best hair days were always those with a little humidity, to give its usually flat demeanor a nice little fuzz around my face. I remember the perfect fuzz, that night.

The following summer I found out from one of my best friends that she and my boyfriend had kind of hooked up at the Valentines Dance and had been carrying on behind my back for several months. ::She had a boyfriend too, so this was on the Down Way Low.:: After my friend dropped the bomb on me, she did the favor of driving me to his house, where I slapped him soundly across the face when he answered the door, in front of his entire family. Funny how things were sooo serious then, but in retrospect, we were just kids, ya know?

But damn, if I didn't look fine in that dress and hell if I'm going to let a couple of skanks ruin the memory.

P.S. That's the living room of my house. It was a tiny house in a bad neighborhood, but the living room was sweet. The picture over the mantel was purchased by my mother, through a Bayer aspirin promotion. She Hodge Podged it with a paint brush to make it look authentic. I don't know the name of the painting but the girl had a ribbon in her hair which, from a distance, appeared to be a fish.

W is for Water
I took this picture at the lake, just last week. It looks like ribbon, to me.



I've always loved to look at water. When I was kid, I would often walk to the nearby park and sit above the tunnel of a creek that briefly passed through the park. It was a street sewage run-off creek, and smelled like one, but I didn't care. I knew all its bumps and bubbles and noticed when a new branch had fallen to cause a different ripple. I did some of my best (and maybe some worst) thinking there.

It seems that my fascination with water is not uncommon. Since the beginning of time, man has been preoccupied with water and it seems that still, he's constantly looking for ways to possess or harness it. Around here, people pay millions of dollars for a blank sheet of property on the shores of Lake Michigan. With their purchase they get the illusion that they somehow own a piece of the magic. But they don't. They can't.

Water is the perfect unrequited love. No matter how much you worship or adore, it simply doesn't care.

But it shore is perty.

X is for Xeno
Or Not From Around Here.



I collect angels and these are just the ones I have hanging on a wall. I'm a bit picky when selecting my own, and try to go for the more unusual affects. I do receive them as gifts as well.

Initially I was going to use the word Xenium. I found it in a crossword puzzle dictionary, associated with the words "delicate" "light" and "gift." "Bingo", I says. But further research indictated that the crossword dictionary's integrity was at cross purposes with the rest of the world of word. I had the post already written in my mind's blog, so I kind of stretched it.

Xo xue me.

Y is for Yay!



That's my son and a niece. The picture was taken at a Christmas party at my house, years ago. My mom had sewn fleece hats and scarves for all five of her children and respective partners and all her grandchildren, then we all got together for a family shot.

Z is for Zee End



Or Red Marker This.***
And yeah, that's my fine hiney.
And no, I'm not wearing a Kotex.

*All in fun.
**Apologies, again.
***For more info, see this. All in fun.

P.S. This post was a heap o' toil for me this weekend, so I'm still playing blog ketchup.

Labels: ABC, Red Marker Holder