Tuesday, December 31, 2019

new year's eves and new years days from my old kid diaries

December 31, 1979
Frank and Mom found a stray puppy and brought it home a month or something aft Gertrude died.  But we aren't going to keep the stray.  I call her Shoepolish.

January 1, 1981
I named my diary Mandy. Anne Frank named hers too.

January 1, 1982
Dear Amanda, the year of 1982 has just hit. Happy New Year!

December 31, 1982
Good Buy, 1982!!

January 1, 1983
It is now 1983. Happy New Year! I resolve to be a nicer, more outward person. I am a shyish person, but I resolve to become less shy. We had a party at my cousin Heather's lake house. It was my family, Heather's & the Macys. We took a boat ride & had a foot ball pool. Frankie & Ev Macy won!!! When we went to the dock there was slush on the ground!!!! (This is California!) "so what???" I prayed for snow & in a way I got it!

December 31, 1983
It is New Years eve. We are at Heather's lake house in front of the big screen T.V. This weekend, starting Thursday, We & Lizehte & the Macy's (Ryan & Tom) went to the lake house with Heather, went to a Swap meet (bought Navy hats which we are wearing now) & hiked in the hills, playing "An Officer & A Gentleman". I don't know weather to be happy or sad. I know I should be happy on New years eve. And I am going out of this year but I'm also going into another. I know there will be more lonliness and hard schoolwork. But this past year hasn't been that bad. Oh! Now here comes the ball dropping into 1984. 10 seconds! 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1…

As I look over my past year, I see many different times and emotions. I don't think there is an emotion that I haven't felt. I've felt angry, afraid, surprised, excited, and most of all, happy and sad. Many different things have happened to me. I got the lead in my 8th grade play. I started high school. I lost a friend. I tryed to start new friendships. I had an operation. I attended my grandfather's wedding to Jen, my new grandmother. I made many goals, some of which I dumped on the 2nd day. I continued with writing books all through the year, my books being "Marna Terrace", "Misty Terrace", "Toybox", "Armistice", and "Cloth Rose", a book started but not finished.

Even though my likes changed throughout the year, different musics, different book plots, I am still the same person now, that I was when the ball first struck 1983, last year. I really wish that I could change and be the person who I am inside and not just who comes out.

The person who comes out is small and quiet. The person inside is quite different but I can't seem to figure out exactly who she is. I am a totaly different person to every one I talk to. I don't know who exactly I am.

After Christopher's death, I began to realize that we have but one lifetime and so many things we want to do and expiriance; so many people we want to be; so many profesions we want to hold. We have to figure out what we want. We each must begin expiriancing now. We mustn't throw our whole life away. We must do and remember.

Possibly someday I will do everything I've wanted to do. Maybe someday my life will brighten. But now, I must learn to cope well with what problems I have now and possibly, somewhere in the future, my life will be different.

But for now, I think, despite the hardships in life, I think I'll continue living. 

December 31, 1984
Well, it's, once again, New Years Eve. On the stroke of midnight, It will become 1985, a new year to laugh and cry in, to survive in. A new year to work through. A new year of new books, new interrests, same old thing. 

Well, I have lived through 1984 and have not seen hide nor head of Big Brother. Perhapse, we'll not even reach George Orwell's 1984. Maybe we'll reach armageddin first. Anyway, I'm glad we haven't reached it, at least yet.

Monday, December 30, 2019

2019 for us: a year in random images


Nicholas and grin.

The time we put our Christmas tree out at the curb just before a huge wind storm hit and the next day it was gone.

Lizehte's visit to Portland.

In the sculpture garden of her Airbnb.

Stevan Allred's novel The Alehouse at the End of the World and Kat Gardiner's book Little Wonder up on Powells' Staff Top Fives display.

The mysterious appearance of the pocket knife on the top step to our front porch.

Nicholas and octopus.


Nicholas and snow.

My Valentine's Day card to Stephen.

Stephen's Valentine's Day card to me.


The Untold Gaze event at Plonk.

Laura Stanfill.

Bradley K. Rosen.

Kathleen Lane.

Colin Farstad.

Vanessa Veselka.


Melissa Duclos' Besotted book launch at Powell's.

AWP off-site reading at IPRC.

Liz Scott.

Justin Hocking.

Brian S. Ellis.


Pie on drum in the basement of the Gong Show writing group.

Liz Prato's book launch for Volcanoes, Palm Trees, and Privilege, at Powell's City of Books.

Liz Scott's book launch for This Never Happened, at Powell's City of Books.

Nicholas and flowers.


Two book launches for Shawn Levy's The Castle on Sunset.

Stephen's May show Objectified (and artist's talk) at Froelick Gallery.


The Untold Gaze event at Boys' Fort

Liz Scott.

Stephen Rutledge.

Monica Drake.


Two evenings before my birthday.

Stephen's birthday card to me. Outside.


My big fiftieth.

Surprise birthday song.

And of course fire dancing.

Nicholas and Dad.

Stephen reads at Another Read Through.

With fellow reader Nastasia Minto.

Stephen's birthday present to me: five days writing and editing by myself at Moss Rock Retreat.

With a quick interlude for a date night.


Stephen's new guitar.

My birthday card for Stephen.

The image I made to advertise the next Portland Writers' Picnic.

Celebrating Colin and Caitlyn.


Nicholas and street art.

Building the arbor in the backyard, which Stephen calls the folie au jardin.

Stephen doing something different: Persian carpet paintings.

Nicholas and sky. On Mount Tabor.

Stephen's anniversary card to me.

My anniversary card to Stephen.

My card was referencing the fact that we were going to do a sensory deprivation float.

Lovely anniversary brunch.

And, later, impromptu anniversary chocolate.

Celebrating Sage's graduation in the Dangerous Writers' basement.


At Forest Park.

Wardrobe fitting for Madama Butterfly in the Portland Opera Studio costume shop.

Enormous bustle.

The fifth annual Portland Writers' Picnic.

Mark Savage's book launch for Fictional Film Club at Mother Foucault's Book Shop.

Artist Shu-Ju Wang invited Stephen and me to both read a piece about fear and water at Waterstone Gallery.




I read a piece from my novel that was perfectly made for the theme.


Rene Denfeld's book launch for Butterfly Girl.

The Remnants by Robert Hill, People Like You by Margaret Malone, and The Man Who Fell in Love With the Moon by Tom Spanbauer, on Powell's 25 Books to Read Before You Die (Pacific Northwest Edition) list.

Jackie Shannon Hollis' Powell's book launch for This Particular Happiness.

In the Chorus Room at the Portland Opera Studio in rehearsals for Madama Butterfly.

A rack of wardrobe (shoes, hats, under-skirts) for actors to wear during practice.

My practice reticule (they gave me a different one for performances) had the label of the last super to use it, who happens to be a lovely friend.

Plonk at the Rose City Book Pub.

Stevan Allred and Nikki Shulak.

Michelle Fredette

Yuvi Zalkow

Leland Cheuk.

October Mind-Meld.

Stevan Allred and Nikki Shulak.

Pat Janowski and Mark Savage.

The Legendary Mark Peter Savage.

Madama Butterfly with the Portland Opera.

In the super women's dressing room

In the super men's dressing room.

What we found left over in our Halloween candy bowl on the porch after our October 31st opera performance. One whopper.


A couple more opera pictures as we closed out the run.

The super women.

With our makeup ladies in the makeup room.

Stephen's prep for our Untold Gaze pop-up for the Portland Book Festival.

Literary Bingo, hosted by Lilla Lit.

Missy Ladygo.

Holly Goodman shields herself from flying candy.

The floor of our car. Where, after the reading, I finally found the first page of the three-page story I was supposed to read.

The Untold Gaze pop-up for the Portland Book Festival.

Laura Stanfill.

Stephen sang "J'ai perdu mon Eurydice" from Gluck's Orphée et Eurydice.

Songbook PDX.

Adam Strong.

Debby Dodds.

Jessica Ann.

Christy George.

A dinner party at our house with just one special guest.

Nicholas and lap.

On the last day of November: snow! Very little. But I was excited. Nicholas wasn't. But maybe the only snow we'll get this season so I had to record it.


The Christmas tree goes up!

Caga tió.

The Christmas tree falls down.

When your belief in the magic of Christmas is shaken... Mind-Meld!

Mark Savage and Pat Janowski.

The improv comedy of Meat Puppets.

Pat and her daughter Nora.

The fab Mo Daviau.

The Legendary Mark Peter Savage.

At Froelick Gallery for the book launch of Willie Little's In the Sticks.

The sales table.

Who's this stud by the drink table? Doesn't he realize smoking is bad for your health?

Charles Froelick watches Willie read from his book.

Willie. Too far away to really get a good picture. But yay for a packed house!

Christmas. I didn't get any pictures at Mary's (Stephen's Mom's) on Christmas Eve. I didn't get any pictures of our morning ritual of opening my mom's Christmas box and eating good food in our paper crowns. But here's a picture that exemplifies Christmas night, me and some of my favorite people in the world, singing silly to the Beatles and the entire soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar (because it was Easter, after all), on karaoke microphones courtesy of the lovely Kat.

Stephen designed our holiday card this year. We weren't sure he'd get it done quite in time for Christmas or even before the last day of Hanukkah.

Nicholas and sublime curled tail.