ramblinrandol – Page 7 – RamblinRandol

Dear Diary August 1997

The dedication I had to keep up with my diary writing is impressing my twenty something self. We’ve made it to August and I’m still plugging away, determined to fill each and every page.

Per last post, I’m currently smack dab in the middle of a love triangle within my own heart. Tom and Neil, Neil and Tom. Who knew it could be so complicated for a single-digit-aged kid? It’s hard out there for the bus crushes!

Quick recap: I’ve planned out dog names for my future self. One will be named Shep (can you guess where I got that one from? 10 cool points if you do!) and one named Lucky. Full disclosure: currently have two puppies, neither by the name of Shep or Lucky. My two rascals are dubbed Bella and Bailey, a.k.a. Bella Booski and Hurricane Bailey, or simply–da puppies.

I’m not editing any of the contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is August 1997.

Augist 18th 1997
Today I went 
to Alissa's house
and played baby
with Max it was
fun!

Aug. 19th 1997
Today paul, Dan
Ashly, Nicol, Key, paul came
over. Dan is 10 years old. Ashly is 2 years
old. Nicole is 8 months
old. Kyl is 6 years old. paul is 6 years
old.to. They are twins.
I was only 9 months
old when I started walking.

[Dear Diary] DONE is my go to word when I’m stressed and overworked. Considering this is me and I’m still me, I think I was DONE.

Well, August was a slow month…

But you got a complete rundown of each kid I played with on this day, future reporter? Nah, I went to journalism school and took the classes. It wasn’t the life for me. Mad respect for the reporters struggling, though.

Speaking of reporting, did anyone else take on an semi-unhealthy obsession with the movie Harriet The Spy? Oh. Mah. Gawd. Did I want to be Harriet. I begged for a marble notebook 3.2 milliseconds after the movie ended.

I’d sit behind our lounge chair, which was backed up a corner leaving ample triangular room for a kid to hide, and spy on family (pretty sure Mom knew, damn moms always knew).

13d4224cf46455c20c5aa2cd3a2fa574 — Swift and painful death

The label even had PRIVATE etched across the front, super official. It’s also possible I got a friend to do the infamous pen tattoo. We were so cool.

Do kids still play ‘baby’ anymore, or is that too gender specific now-a-days? I can’t explain my then fascination with pretending to be Mom, maybe it was because I loved the shit out of mine and mimicking her was the only way I knew how to flatter?

I defiantly don’t share the same sentiment at almost 28-years-old. Still not okay with how babies come out, can hardly afford to feed myself and not sure I’d fare well in Mom jeans. Maybe when I grow up.

Good to see I’m super humble, too. “I started walking at 9 months.” To be honest, I have no idea if that’s even true. Ya can’t trust an 8-year-old.

PS: Get your spelling together Shannon!

PSS: I have no idea who any of those peeps are or could’ve been.

PSSS: George Of The Jungle (Brendan Fraser). The elephant (dog)’s name was …. Shep!

What was your favorite movie growing up, or who did you want to emulate so badly it hurt? Let me know in the comment section!

Dear Diary July 1997

There’s a slight chance I’m still embarrassed about outing my competitiveness at such an early age, but I’ve come back to share some more! Hopefully you haven’t hit the snooze button yet.

Quick recap: I think Neil is still my bus crush, no clue where Alissa has been. I most definitely out fished my brother and jotted down some good fatherly wisdom.

My entries are growing farther apart, as I assume my need to jot down every thought I had the moment I had it grew exhausting, but who knows. I thought my sign off was ‘Love Shannon,’ but apparently that got old after a few months, too.

If you’re new and have no idea what I’m talking about: I’ve recently discovered all of my old diaries, journals (not sure of the difference, maybe maturity?) slam books and old high school notes. I’m sharing them here for everyone’s enjoyment.

I’m not editing any of the contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is July 1997.

July 20th 1997
today it was my
Brother and Sister
and me at the theatre! 

July 20th 1997
When I grow
up and when I get a Dog I will name 
it Shep. and
when it dieds
I will get another
dog    I will 
name it lucky!

July 27, 1997
Today my friend
Alissa has a very
lose tooth!

July 27th, 1997
Tom loves
Me!

[empty]
Done

[empty]
I love
Neil!

Ah-yes, the tooth fairy. How could I forget?! My tooth fairy had a name and I wrote her letters. For the life of me I can’t remember what her name was, I used to ask her all sorts of questions.

Where did she live? Was her house made out of teeth? Was that sanitary? Did she like being a tooth fairy? Could she draw me a picture of what it looked like where she lived?

HER NAME WAS MOONLIGHT!

I used to ask the other kids if their tooth fairy was Moonlight, too. Needless to say I never found another kid who shared the same tooth fairy.

Neil was almost a goner, but he crept right back in there at the end. Poor Tom though, he didn’t stand a chance against bus crush Neil. It does say Tom, right? Maybe Tom was my codename for Neil.

PS: I was going to breeze past the awkward naming of dogs and death bit, but something struck me. This has to be the only time in my life I was able to speak (write) about death without an ensuing panic attack to follow. It’s odd (but not) how simple your mind is when you’re younger. I say death so matter-of-factly without knowing its finality.

PSS: Who the hell is Tom? Tom, are you out there? Do you remember me?

Did your tooth fairy have a name? I still must know! Let me know in the comment section below!

Dear Diary June 1997

We’ve technically gotten into a new month on the last post, but it’s officially official this time around.

Quick recap: I’m still crushing hard on my bus crush, Neil. Alissa is my Best friend and hasn’t lost the capital B status, yet. They are both cool and fun. I root for the Chicago Bulls and don’t want Neil to know about it.

I’m showing off my cool numbering skills in the date line and can’t ever end an entry without Love Shannon. It’s important to let oneself know where the diary entry ends, dontcha know.

What will June bring for my tiny 8-year-old self? Why don’t we find out together. I’m not editing any contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is June 1997.

June 17, 
Kelly cought 
her First Fish! 

June 17, 
I cought 
a Fish
to. 

June 17, 
Mom cought 
her First
Fish to. 

June 17, 
Dad cought
two Fish. 

June 17,
James
cough zero
Fish. It is
o.k.
James

July 2nd 1997
My Daddy seid
a Bad Day
of fishing is
Better then a
good Day at
work

[Dear Diary] It took three tries before nailing down my Dad’s life lesson. If anything, at least I’m thorough.

Way to be a show off, Dad. Two fish?!

Who else enjoys my running tally of caught fish and wanting to remember my little brother caught NONE? How about that little piece of wisdom from my Pops? Super Dad-like.

My Dad’s still good for life quips and I’m still notorious for being a smidgen competitive. To this day I’m embarrassingly proud of the fond memory I have with Dad and brother at the golf course.

At the end of the day my golf score stayed below the triple digits, James’ did not … love you little brother! It’s a shame you can’t see my beat red face smeared with a grin from ear to ear right now, I’m terrible.

Ps: What I wouldn’t give to be out on a lake somewhere again with my Dad and brother. It’s weird, you spend so much time with your family growing up and then all of a sudden, you haven’t lived in the same state for almost a decade and a random text every few months or years is all ya get.

Got any sibling rivalry you want to share, extra cool points if its embarrassing! Share them with me in the comment section.

Dear Diary May 1997 IV

You’re back for more?! Great! Here’s what you’ve missed.

Quick recap: Neil is my bus crush, Alissa is my Best friend and I love to write the word love. It’s very apparent I needed to make sure I never forgot who I held nearest and dearest to my heart …. which was pretty much everything.

My two other favorite words in 1997 were ‘cool’ and ‘ fun,’ everything fit in those two categories. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the world stayed that simplistic?

I’m not editing any contents of my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is May 1997 IV.

May 28, 1997
Alissa , and Neil are friends!
Neil is cool. 
Alissa is
neat. 
Love Shannon
They are so much fun

May 28, 1997
I Love Love my family! 
<3 Shannon :) :) :) :) :)

June 2nd 1997
Do not tell Neil I love the Bulls o.k.
Alissa
Yes [ ]
No [ ]
Love Shannon
Love Shannon

June 3rd 1997
I am glad the Bulls 
won!
Love Shannon

June 05 1997
I <3 u

Love Shannon

June 15, 1997
Today is Father's
Day! I <3 u!

[Dear Diary] The amount of weight carried in those messy smiley faces is unmeasurable.

What’s funny is I remember always assuming I root for the Bulls if basketball was on, but I hardly remember ever watching basketball. For as long as I can remember it’s always been football, #BillsMafia.

When my brother and I were younger we played this NBA game on Nintendo 64 and I consistently picked the Chicago Bulls. Dennis Rodman, Scottie Pippen and MJ all day everyday. Changing Rodman’s hair was a must.

The dateline has progressed from standard to a mash-up. It’s possible I had just learned in school all the different variations of numbering. What a show off.

Can we discuss the nostalgia attached to the yes/no boxes? They were life! Do kids these days still decide major life decisions based off what was checked? Please, tell me they do!

Side bar–My now husband used the yes/no boxes to ask me out for our first date. He slid a half sheet of paper under my bedroom door one afternoon that read, “will you go out with me? Yes [ ] No [ ]’

I penciled in my own box and checked, “Maybe [ \ ]” I am still kind of an asshole.

PS: If I jump back in to basketball and root for the Bulls, does this make me a bandwagoner or fair-weather fan? I have proof from an 8-year-old, it was her team …

PSS: Speaking of sports, I have a memory with my father watching the Sabres game (losing, typical) and pacing around the house ranting about how terrible the team was playing. I wanted to join in on the angst and began mimicking his pacing and angry slurs at the television. He let me partake in his anger for a few minutes before telling me to knock it off. Damn kids, LOL.

It may seem by 8-year-od self loved the Bulls, but I’ve always been a die-hard Buffalo Bills fan, as painful as it’s been throughout the years (cough-cough, my entire life). Who do you root for? Let me know in the comment section!

Dear Diary May 1997 III

Rediscovering my twenty year younger heart again has been slightly embarrassing yet fulfilling at the same time. Who knew I was such a talkative little tyke.

And my, was my heart filled with such love. I wrote down everything and everyone I cared about to ensure I would never forget.

I’m not editing any of the contents or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is May 1997 III.

May 25, 1997
Today I went to Applebee's to visit Dad. 
I love my Daddy very much. 
Love Shannon

May 21, 1997
Mrs. Sattora is the Best techer in the whole wind world!
Love Shannon

May 23, 1997
I love my family But
I have fun with them very much
They are the Best parents in the whole wind world!
Love Shannon

May 23, 1997
I Love You

May 23, 1997
On May 21, 1997 I told Alissa that I put I Love
Neil. she was being a berat.
But we are Best friends
now. 

May 25, 1997
I <3 u
Love Shannon

May 26, 1997
you are fun!

[Dear Diary] Thank goodness Alissa and I made up after she was being a berat! It’s a shame my bounce back rate isn’t as quick these days.

Has anyone else caught my consistent capitalization of Best? I actually think it’s pretty hilarious. My younger self put a high emphasis on the word. It must’ve had some type of superiority before the word friend.

I also assume I tattled on myself to Alissa about my crush and she teased me. Luckily, I have no recollection of this spat between my former Best friend and happy to report, it did not stop me from crushing on Neil.

It’s also safe to say I was trying to write brat, but also highly probable I was trying to write it the way I was saying it, i.e. beeeeeerat!

My how time flies. Do you remember your first scuff with a friend? What was it over and where did it happen? Let me know in the comment section!

Dear Diary May 1997 II

After a late ‘spring cleaning’ of my dusty and disorganized garage, I came across hundreds of penned pages from twenty year’s past.

Not wanting to throw away my childhood thoughts, I figured the pages could breathe fresh air, here, on my blog. I’m at a point in my life where a little trip down memory lane could do some good.

I’m not editing any of the contents or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is May 1997 II.

May 21, 1997
Today it is my Birthday. 
My Mom is comming in to read a story and pass out dounts.
<3 Shannon

May 21, 1997
Neil is my Best Friend so is Alissa. 
I Like whem very much.
They are fun.
Neil is
cool.

May 21, 1997
Shannon is a good
friend thanks for
the car. from,
              Neil
              your welcome!

May 21, 1997
you are my Best friend.
Alissa is the Best.
She is fun to. I Like
her. She is
cool!
Love Shannon

[Dear Diary] I think I granted access to my super secret and padlocked secure diary. What was I thinking!

It’s a shame donuts don’t have the same appeal to me 20 years later. Instead of having a jolt of glee when someone brings donuts, all I can think about is if the calories are worth it. Oh, to be young and oblivious to calorie intake.

Full disclosure: Neil was my first crush. He rode the bus with me in the mornings and when he gave me a stuffed animal for my birthday, it was love at first gift. His parents had the coolest house on the bus route and they were doctors.

It’s funny what you remember after so many years. I also can’t watch The Santa Clause without being reminded about my bus crush, ironically Neil (Scott Calvin’s arch nemesis in The Santa Clause) is also a doctor of sorts.

PS: Alissa is how she spelt her name, my creative 8-year-old self didn’t create the spelling on her own. I feel like this must be emphasized, because many misspellings are probably in my future.

PSS: How probable is it to find Neil on Facebook with no last name? I wonder if he followed in his parent’s footsteps.

My how time flies. The road ahead is foggy but I can’t help but wonder what is next. Do you remember your first crush? What was their name and where did you meet them? Let me know in the comment section!

How to Not Freak Out While Planning a Huge Fundraiser

This is not a drill. I am currently 4 days away from my job’s annual Fight Night fundraiser. A huge event in Orange County hosted at #TheMarconi where Marconi Foundation for Kids partners with another local at-risk children’s charity.

This year we’re partnering with Seneca and its G.A.I.T program; healing at-risk youth through horseback.

Any huge event you’ve attended, there is a team of exhausted and sleep deprived coworkers slushing through the night with a smile on their face, cautiously eyeballing the timeline (a minute by minute schedule of the event) and saying a little prayer everything goes off without a hitch.

I work in a small office and after three months of planning, it’s starting to get stuffy around the office. And by stuffy I mean stressful.

Rule #1: Don’t waste time having imaginative arguments with coworkers in your head. Be the bigger person.

At the beginning of last week I could feel the stressed induced vomit pooling at the back of my throat. Every being in my body wanted to slam my office door shut, turn off the lights and growl at anyone who came knocking.

After one day of office silence, I cleared the air. Took the few minutes before the work day started to give a pep talk to a couple coworkers feeling the pressure.

You feel like you’re working harder than everyone else, get over it. Even if you are, it’s more than likely everyone else planning the event with you is feeling the exact same way. So don’t wallow in the bad vibes, be the bigger person and suck it up.

Crack a joke, make someone smile and lead by example. Laugh through the chaos.

Rule #2: You can’t control everything. Put your best foot forward and keep walking.

Have you ever planned a small gathering for friends and family? I planned a baby shower, once. I remember thinking how much fun it would be to coordinate a little get-together and celebrate a new life.

My baby shower was probably different than yours though, I couldn’t account for the grandma-to-be to get pissed drunk and start wrestling guests.

After two months of planning and getting everything just right, nothing could’ve prepared me for drunk grandma. Oh well, the show must go on.

Rule #3: If you worked hard for it to be a success, those who matter will notice.

Market the shit out of your event. Create promo videos, make engaging and informative social media posts, pump up your audience and get creatively spent each and every day leading up to the big event. Don’t be afraid to step it up and extend your creative brush onto another canvas.

Not everyone has a boss who can express gratitude for hard work, same goes with coworkers. You know what you did, don’t waste any energy making sure everyone else knows, just keep killing it. Good things come to those who strive for it.

Did your grandma get pissed drunk and wrestle guests at your baby shower? What are some of your event horror stories? I want to hear them! Comment down below.