Crayons

Guys, I used to steal crayons.

Specifically, cerulean Crayola crayons.  Apparently, I've always been incredibly picky about both my brand preference and color when it came to my crayon pilfering.  I have vivid memories of being in the childcare at the YMCA, and while all the other kids were watching Land Before Time, I was rifling through the cavernous tub of loose crayons in an attempt to find every single cerulean crayon.  Could I pronounce 'cerulean' at the age of four?  No.  Did I know that it was a much truer representation of what I envisioned as the color blue than any of the other crayons labeled as such?  Yes.  To me, blue Crayola crayons were a very sad color, and cerulean was a much happier alternative.

And this didn't stop with daycare.  Wherever there was a bin a crayons, whether it be school or that one restaurant that actually had Crayola crayons, I would immediately begin my hunt for the cerulean ones.  And once I started babysitting?  Well, let just say there are probably a couple of houses in my neighborhood that have been relieved of their cerulean scribblers.  Now, I never stole from BOX of crayons.  That would leave a gaping hole.  And it wasn't that I thought that hole would lead me to be caught (because who would think there was a crayon burglar?), but because that incomplete set would cause my OCD more grief than the new cerulean crayon would bring me joy.  There was this one time I bought a new box of crayons (just the 24 set), and the cerulean crayon was broken... BROKEN!  So, I brought it with me the next time I babysat and traded it out for the pretty (and completely intact) counterpart from the kids' box of crayons.  I felt better.    

You may or may not be wondering at this point whether or not I have a giant pile of cerulean crayons hiding somewhere.  I don't.  They've all been used, lost, or gone through the wash.  Although, I'm pretty sure that if you look through all of my old bags/purses, you will probably find a cerulean crayon in each of them.

Most recently, I was struck with the urge to make a bright green metallic mine.  I was at a music director's house for a rehearsal, and sitting on a speaker was a lone crayon.  It called to me.  Is that what kleptomaniacs feel like?  Or do they do it for the rush?  Because I just REALLY wanted to take that crayon.  There were no other crayons in sight.  Why was it there?  Just to taunt me?  To remind me that all I have in a measly 24 count box, with nothing more exciting than "dandelion"?  Why?!?  And I almost took it.  I told the music director that if he couldn't find his crayon, it was because I pocketed it, but I didn't.  Because I'm new to town, and I don't want word to get out.  "Don't hire that redheaded Elizabeth girl for your show.  She'll steal your crayons."

Also, can we just take a moment to hate on RoseArt?  Those are the worst.  I always felt kind of bad when kids at school had RoseArt crayons... until they asked to borrow my AWESOME 96 count box of Crayolas and returned it with all the crayons worn down, broken, and out of order.  Dude, I know you're used to your crappy, waxy, RoseArt pieces of nonsense, but ease up on my crayons, will ya?  Develop those fine motor skills, and discover the joys of shading.  No need to have THE MOST INTENSE COLOR FOR YOUR ENTIRE PICTURE.  At least not if you're using my crayons.  And what on Earth made you think that "Tickle Me Pink"goes back next to "Macaroni and Cheese"?  My box of crayons is obviously organized by color family... it's the first thing I did when I received it.  Show some respect.

Valentine's Day

I know haters are going to hate, but...

I really like Valentine's Day.  A lot.  You know why?  Because it is a holiday and holidays are awesome.  And I have never been .5 of a couple, so you can't throw that, "You're not single" nonsense in my face.  So there.

You may claim that this is a day that puts unnecessary stress on relationships, is merely the capitalist construct of the greeting card/flower/chocolate companies, or that it singles out all of those (supposedly) sad single ladies.  But I cry no!  Every Valentine's Day, I dwell not on the fact that I do not have some Romeo, but rather bask in the memories of Valentine's Day elementary school style.  Those glory days when February 14th meant that most of the school day was not spent learning (though, we all know I loved learning), but going through all of the Valentines in your special, handmade, disgustingly red and pink mailbox.  In fact, there was even time spent earlier in the week, not on studies, but on festooning said shoeboxes with paper doilies.  And glitter.  GLITTER.  Enough said?  I'll go on.

I don't know about all of you, but my mom and I did not buy into the whole "buy the pre-made, pop-culturally relevant, tiny Valentines" schtick (destroying those capitalists' plans), because a) since when have I known what's going on in pop-culture, b) they never had Wizard of Oz Valentines, and c) we were super crafty, even back in the day.  Along with being perpetually crafty, I've also been a pretty consistent procrastinator, meaning that the week of Valentine's Day also meant I usually got to stay up kind of late to finish my masterpieces.  They usually involved extensive rubber stamping, and let me tell you, I was a very creative, detail oriented child.  These Valentines were spectacular... and almost always Wizard of Oz themed.  Yes, I own Wizard of Oz rubber stamps.  None of this should surprise you.  I have to say, my mom was a champ through all of this.  Kudos, Mom.  Love you and your patience.

Now, back to school.  Cookies, cakes, candy, and cards.  Ah, the alliteration and the sugar rush.  Sure, some of the more popular kids had extra boxes of candy in their little cubbies, but who cared?  I was still proud of the assembly line I had created to produce 27 handmade cards in one night.  I was sorting out my candy hearts so we could make a bar graph of all the different colors.  I was... a huge nerd.  But I had a cookie, so it was all good.