we are all so different. we are born and we live and things happen to us along the way that give us each such distinctly personal histories. they are the random quirks and stories that distinguish us from all the other billions of people out there walking around on this earth. and as I'm really thinking about the truth behind that statement, it's blowing my mind a little. I was inspired by this fabulous
writer and so here are nineteen random things about me:
1. I love to make lists. I make lists of lists to make so I don't forget anything.
2. growing up, I wanted to be a solid gold dancer AND breakdancer but also dance for the new york city ballet on the side. I love how I actually thought I might be able to be a prima ballerina
on the side.
3. the taste of cilantro in my mouth makes me gag.
4. my imagination often got me into trouble growing up. beads got stuck in noses and walls were set afire. when I was about six or seven, I had these really fantastic 'I dream of jeannie' pajamas. I happily slept in this very authentic two-piece fuschia number with gold trim every night and played in them during the day. once, I was digging through my grandma's big tin of buttons and discovered an irresistibly shiny ruby-colored bead. it seemed like the most natural thing at the time to stick that ruby-red bead in my nose. I could not imagine a more magical accessory and I remember feeling like, "yes. NOW I am a true belly dancer." but then the bead wouldn't come out and the more frantic I became to remove the bead from my bleeding nose, the farther it worked its way up into my nasal cavity. finally, my grandma and grandpa had to take me to the emergency room where the little gem was sucked from my nose with a large clear plastic tube. I was thoroughly humiliated but remember feeling happy about the piece of juicy fruit gum the nurse gave me when it was all over. setting the wall on fire is another story that also involves my vivid imagination and my pretending to be someone exotic.
5. I am a superb speller.
6. I was a cheerleader. I have always been a little ashamed of this but worked hard at it and I'm sorry, but we were a good squad.
7. when I am upset or angry, I get in the car and drive. which I realize may not be the best thing for me or all the other poor drivers out there who see me crying, my face all sad and contorted. it soothes me, though-- the loud music, the wind on my face. and when I come home, I am always ready to work things out.
8. I have bathed in a traditional japanese bathhouse in gifu and it was the cleanest my body has ever felt.
9. when I was six years old, lightening struck the white wicker lamp inside my room while my brother and I were sitting on the floor reading a book together. I remember a blinding flash of light and an ear-splitting cracking sound followed by my mother's panicked footsteps. she tells of how she found the two of us frozen, looking up at her with eyes as big as silver dollars. silver dollars! she says. to this day, every window in my house is immediately shut at the slightest threat of lightening outside.
10. hostess suzi Q cakes are my favorite junk food, my guiltiest pleasure. have you seen these? they are two slices of devils food cake with a whole mess of cream filling (ha, lard and sugar) in the middle. they are the kind of 'sandwiches' only a sugar-crazed child would love. I haven't eaten suzi Qs in years but drooled over some at the gas station the other day.
11. my feet are a mess. twenty years of modern dance (read: dancing barefoot) have rendered my feet hopeless. they are dry and cracked and torn up. they are often black on the bottom from walking around on hardwood floors that so desperately need to be cleaned. ava calls them 'old' feet and loves to study them up close as if they are specimens of some unexplored ancient geographical region. every once in a while, I treat myself to a pedicure and always dread the moment the technician realizes the work that my feet are going to require. I usually apologize all over myself and launch into lengthy excuses as to why my feet are in such horrible shape. and I tip. GENEROUSLY. but secretly, I am proud of my feet. I earned those callouses, they are like my own personal battle scars- proof of the years spent in class, in rehearsal, on stage. I am learning to fall in love with my feet all over again.
12. when I was eight, I had a lisp and had to go to speech therapy. I met my first boyfriend there, dustin javorski. he couldn't pronounce his r's. we were impossibly cute together.
13. I am very particular about how my towels are folded. I love to open the linen closet door to find neatly stacked rows of perfectly folded white towels. I believe this may be the result of working at the gap back in the summer of 1990. I'll not deny martha stewart's influence here, either.
14. when I was in 7th grade, I was caught making out with my boyfriend at church during a prayer walk. I still feel crummy about it and a little weird owning up to it. even now, as I'm writing this.
15. if I really love a book or movie or television show, I will read or watch it over and over and over again. it's like comfort food to me.
16. as a child, I was a rhymer. as in, I took great pleasure in the rhyming of words. and I took even greater pleasure in bringing my agitated peers and siblings to their knees (always begging, PLEASE STOP WITH ALL THE RHYMING). this, of course, only fueled me to take my rhyming skills to new heights. and also, I just loved the rhythm of rhyming words. and still do. I am still a wacko rhyming machine and am afraid I have already passed this odd preference on to my daughter ava.
17. while on vacation in L.A., I was standing on hollywood boulevard and was mistaken for a hooker.
18. yesterday, I rode a horse for the second time in my life. I'm not sure how I feel about it.
19. I love polka-dotted underwear.
I'm not sure when it began, the somewhat obsessive collecting of found photographs. I do remember when the habit kicked into high gear though-- we were in east atlanta at a great little junk shop called 'craptastic' (a name so wrong it can only be right), happily navigating our way through stacks and piles and boxes of stuff (aka crap). as always, hoping to unearth something worth all the unearthing. I had just decided against purchasing a pair of authentic seventies platform clogs (clogs that also doubled as roller skates: CLOGS AS SKATES, PEOPLE) when I spied an open suitcase in the corner. the sign taped to the side said 'ADOPT A RELATIVE, TEN CENTS' and there were hundreds of old photos inside, mainly snapshot-style/photobooth portraits of men. I spent the good part of an hour deciding which photos to take home with me and the ones you see here were (are) my absolute favorites. they continue to stand out in a collection that now rivals all collections. 
I fell in love with the faces and good lord, the style-- effortless style for days, what I imagine it must be like to be smooth, the very definition of the word cool. kind of tragic that they had no one to treasure them, no family memebers to lovingly pass them down through the generations. with this, I was hungry to collect. I snatched them up wherever and whenever they could be found: an antique store in illinois, a flea market in italy, an abandoned box at a swap meet. anywhere and everywhere I traveled, I looked and looked and always managed to bring at least a couple home with me. I am certainly not original in my pursuit here-- people have been deep in this gig long before I hit the scene. and I have only begun to scratch the surface of the resources out there (if you're at all interested in vernacular photography, take a lookie