Number Two Pencils Will Be Provided

Recently my printer kind of died. I don’t react well to the sudden failure of technology. Modernity has spoiled me. Give me gridlocked traffic, event planning, or final exams. None of those set me off like something that usually works, suddenly not working. Fortunately my printer is largish, and positioned in such a way as to make it difficult to hurl across the room. (The same cannot be said for certain cell phones and remote controls from my past.) 

Financial factors have prevented me from replacing my marginally functioning printer, but that has turned out to be kind of a nice thing.  I had no idea that I had become so printer dependent. I really think of my self as more of a pencil on paper person. I even rebelled, to a degree, in law school. I started out in my 1L year toting my laptop to every class like all of those around me. (Seriously, that scene in Legally Blonde where Reese Witherspoon is surrounded by classmates hunched behind their little screens is completely accurate.) 

By my second semester I had turned away from that approach. Along with my natural inclination to take notes in a very free-form, arrows and circles and diagrams kind of way (and my tendency to doodle) I was completely incapable of not checking my email or googling whatever random topic came to mind when I should have been learning about the rule against perpetuities. I became the girl who took notes by hand, and I think it was a good choice --- I managed to graduate anyway. And I would have thought that would put me squarely in the analog column when it comes to putting ink to paper. It turns out I have been lulled into believing such a thing. The Matrix has me.

When it comes to birthday cards and other little “hand made” gift type things I have become overly reliant on my printing capabilities. With the loss of said capabilities I have been forced to resort to that most ancient of technologies; my hands. And it has been great.

It started with my friend Stephenie’s birthday. I’ve done a few cards in the past where I use old photos or web images, and maybe a little Photoshop magic to create a delightfully charming (or delightfully inappropriate) little birthday treat. Coming up on Steph’s birthday knowing that I would have to resort to other options drove me to the markers and colored pencils section of my bedroom. I mulled over my options and decided to go for an acrostic. I doubt I’ve made an acrostic since I was in elementary school, so I guess I was due. After some brainstorming, a first draft mock up, and a good 45 minutes of good old fashioned coloring I had created a cleverly personalized something I was sure Steph would enjoy.

As a thank you for recommending the book The Perks of Being a Wallflower to me, I was inspired to whip up a mixed CD for my cousin Sarah. If you’ve read the book you know it should really be a mixed tape, but we live in a modern age so I went CD with it. 

Putting together the actual CD was no more difficult than whipping up a playlist in iTunes. Where the fun part came in was the song list. If I were working with a printer I’d probably have just typed up a list of songs and artists on one side of a paper and maybe have grabbed some book or movie (they’re making a Wallflower movie) related image from the web for the other side. Instead, I was going to have to hand write the list, and come up with a cover too. The nostalgic vibe of the book made me think of all the doodling that I (and everyone else I know) did on notebooks in school. So I basically doodled the song names and artists, drew a picture of an old tape for the cover, and sewed the pages together. I very nearly kept it for myself.

All that being said, I’m buying a new printer this week.

My Experience as a Wallflower

Dear friend,

The package was delivered around 6 pm. I started reading around 11 pm. I finished the book around 2:45 am. By 3 I was playing The Smiths and typing. 

Now to explain a little. A couple of weeks ago my cousin Sarah suggested that I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, saying “it was just...high school.” I’d heard of the book, never giving it much thought, but welcomed her recommendation as I trust her taste in most things and added it to my mental to-read list, with no real immediacy. A few days later I actually saw an image of the cover of the book and some sort of spell fell over me. Maybe it was the minimalist cover art or the greenieish green but something about actually seeing it gave me some sort of laser-focus on obtaining the book and reading it soon. 

My much annotated copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

I consulted my local public library system. No go. In an effort to attempt to save money that I don’t have to spend in the first place I visited a local used book store. No go there either. I even asked the kind proprietor and she hadn’t even heard of the book. (This doesn’t exactly speak well of her literary street-cred in my opinion. Sure, she shouldn’t be expected to know all the books, ever, but this one is somewhat established. It’s at least 10 years old. And the movie’s coming out next year. In retrospect I should have known better. This is one of those used book stores that doesn’t have an Existentialist Fiction section. They have a John Grisham section.) Ultimately, Amazon took care of business --- though I was disappointed that my copy’s clean, green cover was besmirched by a circle of blue touting the upcoming “major motion picture.” (Very reminiscent of The Catcher in the Rye’s cover, now that I’m thinking about it, but I’m guessing that’s what they were going for.) I’m sure young Ms. Watson will be fabulous, and I’m glad to see that the author is also the screenwriter and director, but I could have done with out the plug. (Also, whoever’s in charge of the soundtrack had better do the job right.)

From the second paragraph (honestly, the second paragraph) I was enthralled. Not because there’s some great mystery to figure out. Or some big denouement you see coming down the road. It was just lovely to read. I was also radiating thoughts pretty much the entire time I was reading --- not in a distracted way but in a......I don’t know exactly, just in a good way. Said thought radiation did make me go through half a stack of post-its and move directly from reading mode to writing mode as soon as I finished up on page 213. And even though there’s a fair amount of darkness in it, the whole “Wallflower experience” was...comforting...I guess? Except when I ran out of Kleenex on page 90.

Like Sarah said, it was high school. While I wouldn’t say the book “brought back memories” exactly, it did make me remember myself, or my mindset, or my mood(s) a little better I suppose. (Wow, I really did cry a lot. Sorry friends that had to clean me up, and what not.) It was more like I was reminded of that blissful freedom you would feel when you escaped the school parking lot with plans to spend your afternoon in Little Five rather than Ms. Yates’ class. Or how I still have buried in my closet a small box of mixtapes from different people that probably wouldn’t play on my stereo even if I still had a functioning tape player on it, but are treasured commodities nonetheless. Or how I really didn’t think that other people thought things about me, until I did.

Another thing that it jogged in my memory is a recent trip to the grocery store. I think I was buying wine and the cashier made a crack to the guy bagging the groceries that I’d brought them a present. Amusing for two reasons: One - the cashier was clearly under 21. Two - give my wine away? You kidding me? I said something along the lines of “I would if I could” (a lie). She said something about being able to buy her own when she’s legal, and I replied with a “yeah it’s much better on the other side of 21” which she agreed with but then her next line threw me: “But then when you get into your twenties everybody just wishes they were back in high school.” I was rather thrown. At this point we were at the “have a good night” stage of the check out process, so I gave no real response, but I was really surprised by what she said. 

I appreciate nostalgia and shared stories of old but I don’t think I’ve ever really had that feeling. Sure, I might like to go back and NOT fall down during that fire drill that one time, but a full-on wish-you-were-back-then thing I have not felt. But Miss Teen Grocery Store now has me wondering if that’s a common thing. I didn’t hate high school but my twenties kick the shit out of my time at AHS. And if I weren’t currently into what I think I’ll refer to as my “George Costanza Period” (no job, living with mom --- but not bald, at least) I’d say my thirties were off to a good start. Really, unless I can work out some sort of put-right-what-once-went-wrong thing, I don’t want to even touch my time in high school. Too much crying, too many chemicals, and poor bathroom options. (I do really miss my first car though.)

Me, approximately midway through high school.

All that being said, the sweet sadness that The Perks of Being a Wallflower gave me, combined with me actually contemplating and rejecting the idea of returning to high school have put me, oddly, into a nostalgic mood, which I think will lead to a handful of nostalgic post. I’m not talking about “this one time I found a pumpkin seatbelted into the passenger’s seat in my car” or “do you remember that time we got kicked out of the Taco Bell because of that story about the tampon” --- both highly entertaining instances, but not what I’m feeling right now. Though, who knows? That might change. 

Love always,

Carrie