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Rules of Cheese Club

Issue Date: Tuesday, Sept. 20, 2005

So babies, shall we dig around in our memories? Push your hand deep into the musty depth of things you thought you had forgotten. Or something that is slightly less cobwebbed and lost to those of us who travel backwards in time via a scent, music, seeing the curve of a neck exposed by the dip of a head or hearing a laugh bubble up in a crowded room.

Or pictures…

My mother and father have a wall unit bookshelf that is overflowing with photo albums. If I am ever in danger of forgetting someone’s face I have an archival reference library of family and friends at my fingertips. Well, a few hours from my fingertips, but it is there. They have an album for each trip overseas that they have taken and an album (or more) for each year of our lives. My mother started taking pictures early so I have pictures of my parents dating early in their courtship, and they got married in 1963.

I have (as you all have been objected to) that certain need to record things verbally and in photo form. I am not as artistically graceful with a camera as most (ahem… cough… Anne and monkey0) are but I do have records of my life in many albums and they are pushing the boundaries of the space we have for them in the bookcase in our living room.

In the past several years I have taken many many photographs and then squirreled away the film. Since Mister and I are renting our home, I feel that if I get them developed that the pictures; although cherished; will not get the attention that they deserve until we are fully settled.

There are photo albums that are filled with random photos from childhood, albums from high school, college, mine and Mister’s wedding, my “My School Years” album (previously mentioned), the scary portfolio with the random scripts and ‘model receipts’ stuck in the back pocket and countless others.

My favorite is a bag of pictures. Seriously. Any photographer who loves the medium would kick my ass soundly for this bag, not for the contents, but for how I was treating my pictures. The pictures are thrown in there haphazardly in their little folders from Fox Photo, WalMart, Ritz Photo, Wolf Camera or any nameless one hour photo hut from here to Atlanta.

When my parents were moving from Dallas to Denver I threw all of my pictures in a white bag from the SFA University book store, and there they have remained. Ya’ll? That was in like 92. Every time I move? Or if I am supposed to pack (and dear Lord, packing just makes me break out in hives to think about it) I always come across this little (actually it is quite big) bag of pictures and I can get lost for hours just going through them.

Well, last week I was talking to LuLu and she asked me for two things.

The first one was to find a picture for her. I will find it and post the story and the picture that goes with it sometime this week.

And the second was… well she really didn’t ask for the second thing… it just came about:

me: Shit, I can not believe your precious little girl is going to be one in a few weeks!
LuLu: You’re telling me. She already has the attitude…
me: Oh my God, you’ve produced a tiny, little you, the red hair, the great smile… HA!
LuLu: I am in going to be in so much trouble.
me: No kidding.

And somehow we got around to talking about the fashions for young teens these days. Hello? Jeans so low I can see your pubis? Tee-tiny shirts? Honey, you are twelve, not a hooker… and, this is school. Can you say P0RN?

LuLu: Good Lord, I went shopping with my niece and I was shocked at the clothes they have for young girls…
me: No kidding.
LuLu: She was all, “But Aunt Lisa! I thought you were gonna be cool to go shopping with!” I said, “Uh uh honey. This stuff is not appropriate.” And she said, “But it’s the style!”
me: Lord… just think what it is going to be like in 12 years when your little one is a teenager? Walking into Saks, “Hi, I am here to pick up my tampon and band-aid bathing suit please?” Gah. It was so much easier when we were kids.
LuLu: All kids should have to wearing uniforms to school, that would take care of it.
me: Well, that do that a lot up here, kakis and white shirts, but then you have the accessories… purses
LuLu: Louis Vuitton? Do kids go all out up there?
me: Yeah… and shoes…
LuLu: Gah, do you remember Guess jeans?
me: Hell yes, my sister was all over those… I … ::snort::
LuLu: What?
me: My grandmother worked at the Palmetto factory.
LuLu: What the hell is that?
me: Well, it was a small clothing factory in Georgia and their jeans had the little triangle on the butt like Guess… but, um… not.
LuLu: Oh. My. God. You wore pseudo-Guess? [laughing]
me: Shut it. I did not care. [laughing]
LuLu: You were such a dork…
me: You know it!
LuLu: For me it was all about my hair…
me: Oh, Lord… the beeeg hair!
LuLu: It was actually kind of pretty if the bangs weren’t so fucking high and hard.
me: I had the big hairs too yanno…
LuLu: Girl, I know…
me: We should…
LuLu: Yeah, we should…
me: We should have a “Curl Off”… have everyone send in their pictures, dude… we could post them and have a contest! … the eighties or nineties cheese would reign supreme…

And THAT dear friends, complete with Palmetto dork-dom, is how we came about with the idea to do the…

CHEESE Club!

Rules of Cheese Club
1. You totally talk about 'Cheese Club'.
2. You totally talk about 'Cheese Club'.
3. When someone yells "Aqua Net!" or goes eighties, or geeks out, the cheese is just starting.
4. No limits to how many can be involved in Cheese.
5. You must submit one photo at a time (to suzanna.danna@gmail.com).
6. Cheese shirts, cheese shoes… or hair or make up, accessories… ya’ll get the picture.
7. The Cheese can go on as long as it has to.
8. If this is your first night at 'Cheese Club', you have to vote.

As soon as I start getting some pictures I’ll create a page and a link for it somewhere, and if anyone is crafty with the code or whatnot and wants to make a little art for our project… that would be awesome too.

Sound like fun?

Ok, who’s first?

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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