I’m avoiding writing some papers (One is an essay on how James Joyce and T.S. Eliot depict women with distaste in a specific work of theirs) and the other is getting started on my paper about Heart of Darkness. Which I’ve already read and will have to read again. sigh.) So I’m going to post the second installment of the 30-photo challenge!
Picture 5: A Picture of your favourite memory
I already posted about my favourite memory here ( https://blonderover.wordpress.com/2011/01/16/wander-on-down-memory-lane/) so I won’t go over it again.
Picture 6: A person you’d like to trade places with for a day
WARNING: PROBABLY NOT SAFE FOR WORK
Okay, it’s safe to look now.
I really love burlesque – the costumes, the gaiety, the dancing, the glamour… and then there is the ladies’ confidence! Like, really, you really gotta love yourself to be able to strip down to your skivvies while prancing around solo or with a couple other ladies on stage in front of strangers.
Plus Ms Dita von Teese is GORGEOUS and glamourous and I envy her shoe and corset collection.
Picture 7: A picture of your most treasured item
I don’t remember Grandma wearing these rings. She may have taken them off a few years after Bud died. (Bud was her second husband, not my Dad’s father. He died when I was quite young, I think 9)
These mean a lot to me. I’m technically supposed to separate them (the bands are welded together), but I won’t. I’ve had to have the shanks repaired twice in the 5 years I’ve had them. The last jeweler was kind enough to try to build up the weld a little so they’ll hold longer. The bands are very well-worn, these rings are very similar to a set my Mum has, which she inherited from her grandmother and those rings are about 80 years old…
I wear these rings constantly. I feel naked without them. They reside on my right hand, with the engagement ring closest to the base of the finger (Reversed from the wedding ring on bottom). I think they may ‘scare’ off boys from approaching, but I don’t really care. (Besides, at this point, I’m dating someone.)
This is my other, equally treasured item.
On my 17th birthday, maybe the day after, I was sitting on the couch, Dad was in the recliner and the news was on. During a commercial break, he took off his medallion (I’d never seen him without it) and handed it to me. Said “Happy Birthday”. I was dumbstruck, managed a “thank you, Daddy” and put it on. I wore it on my overseas trip to the Uk that summer, and at the of the same summer, we had a party for Grandma’s birthday (G-ma of the rings) and I took it off, put it away b/c there were a bunch of kids who kept climbing on my and pulling on it. I went to put it back on that night and couldn’t find it. I searched high and low, anywhere and everywhere for weeks. Couldn’t find it. Was sorely disappointed in myself for ages.
Mum was cleaning the top of the fridge about a year and a half ago and found it. It had gotten pushed back where I couldn’t see or reach it in my searches. I also feel naked without it on.
Alright, I should get back to my homework… it’s due Tuesday and I’m 1/3rd done… take care.