childhood

Childhood Dreams Come True

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When I was younger, I had a dream of writing greeting cards for a living. Although that dream has since faded, it doesn’t make having a greeting card I wrote actually published any less awesome. That’s right. I wrote a greeting card and it’s getting published!

A year ago my friend and work partner, Alan, and I entered a contest on Threadless, a crowd-sourced t-shirt design website, to make a greeting card. Our birthday card design was selected to be part of their collection and will be exclusively sold at Target starting June 16th. Yes, that Target.

This is what it looks like:

489320-8930bfaa5ecfa109ae1f722b888e9915

 

Some of you might cry, “Heretic! Haley doesn’t drink! Why is this card about drinking?” And that is true, I do not partake in the drinking of alcoholic beverages and am a complete teetotaler. I wrote this card on a whim and never thought it would actually make its way into the aisles of a store – or the hands of a person. That being said, I’m not against alcohol. I just don’t support drinking in excess. Alcoholism runs in my family and after 3 years of being an RA I know far too well the negative side of drinking. That being said, moderation people. Moderation.

So if you’re too lazy to make your own card and wanna get your bud one that is clever and quick to the point, hop over to Target and buy one of mine. Or buy fifty. Because I get to split 20% of the profits with Alan and we wanna roll around in wads of greeting card cash.

Feb. 13, 2001

Everyday

Below is an entry I made in my diary exactly twelve years ago today. I was eleven years old.

photo

The first thing that I realized upon reading this (other than my poor spelling and grammar) was that this was written during the early days of the internet when it would crash for no apparent reason during the worst moments possible – namely in the middle of a very gripping Neopets game of Dice-A-Roo. It was also the point of my life when we only had one family computer. It lived in the hallway at the top of the stairs and its usage was on a very strict time schedule (we had to be fair, you know). This was a time before Google, when you had to ask a presumptuous butler to answer your random questions. A time when you had the dial-up tone memorized and your mailbox would greet you with “you’ve got mail.” A time when chatrooms were totally da bomb, you had to upgrade your AOL with a computer disk that came in the mail, and when not getting to be on the computer would ruin my day. And make me so, so, so mad. It was a simpler time.

It’s always weird for me to read my old journals. I think it’s because, although I can’t really remember what the weather was like or what clothes I was wearing, I can always remember how I felt at the moment I wrote an entry. Like some weird sixth sense connection I have with my past self.

I sometimes forget that little girl didn’t disappear. She’s been with me all along. She’s a little taller and a little bolder, but she’s still the same little girl who was afraid to grow up. The girl who loved climbing trees and making mud pies. The one who wanted so much to be appreciated for being herself. To have her schoolwork posted on the refrigerator and to be called upon by name. The little girl who, when everyone wanted to be models or mothers or princesses, had wanted to be a writer.

And look at her now.

 

Let’s all go to Candyland.

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Today at work I played a game of Candyland. Yes, that’s how cool my job is. My fellow creatives and I needed a mental break and whipped out this cardboard classic and let loose–well, as much as you can with such a simple game. I mean, have you made a trip down the rainbow pathway to the Candy Castle recently? It could be the most foolproof game in history; I’m almost ashamed to have once found it entertaining. Our game took a total of two minutes. Two minutes is all it took for my friend to make it from the Peppermint Forest, past the Gumdrop Mountains, through the Molasses Swamp, and into the gates of the Candy Castle. The game itself relies on neither skill nor luck–not even chance. I think even an amoeba could play it and win.

Aside from it’s simplicity, there was something else I noticed that disturbed me: they changed the game. The mysterious “they” of course refers to the brains over at Milton Bradley whose sole jobs are to mess with my childhood. To give you a glimpse into the game’s importance to me let me explain that my sister and I used to play Candyland in real life. Basically, we’d pick characters and reenact them in classic toddler role-playing fashion. So these small “changes” completely reject the cornerstones of my childhood fantasy world.

Firstly, Princess Lollipop is no longer Princess Lollipop. She is merely, Lolly. This is a travesty of the highest kind because she was my favorite and I always insisted on playing her. At first, I guessed that perhaps Milton Bradley was trying to make her more “hip” like when they made Dora the Explorer a teenager and gave her long hair and sparkle pumps. But then I realized that poor Lolly wasn’t getting a promotion on the social ladder, her title was actually stripped from her by Queen Frostine who, in attempt to stay young, is now called “Princess Frostine”. On a side note, does that mean she and King Kandy got a divorce? I’d like to play that board game…

Secondly, they removed perhaps one of my favorite–and the cutest–of all the Candyland characters: Jolly. He was plump and purple and utterly ridiculous, but who can argue with that adorable face and those crazy eyes? What did he ever do to deserve a complete removal from the game? The characters don’t even do anything and are purely decorative. This makes no sense, Milton.

Yes, this game is purely a device to teach children color-recognition, but part of me still feels gypped. One of my fellow players couldn’t have said it better, “I won and I’m still mad.”

I encourage everyone to explore the Candyland Wikipedia page to experience more frustration. Click here for that.

By the way, the rights for a Candyland movie have been sold and Adam Sandler is the man behind it. Is this news sweet or sour? You decide. Other than the fact that the game provides next to no starting material for a plot, my only question is what role will Sandler play? Maybe they’ll bring back Jolly…

Dear 9-year old me:

Everyday, Lists, Ponderings

Dear 9-year old me,

Right now you are 22 years old and about to graduate from college–congrats! College is great by the way, you really enjoy it. Anyway, on the verge of your jettison into adulthood, I decided to write to you to give you some well-needed advice. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. There’s just some things that I think you should know that might have made these past 13 years a little different:

Wear dresses. In a few years you decide that you don’t want to wear anything remotely girly because the little boys won’t want to play with you. That’s just stupid. True, you end up with a bunch of really awesome guy friends in high school, but you miss out on a lot of key girl lessons that prevent you from really understanding girl-kind. Plus, people pick on you in high school for looking like a ragamuffin all the time. Believe it or not, the majority of your wardrobe in college is made up of dresses and skirts. Talk about irony.

Don’t dress your little brother up in dresses. It may be cute now, but you’ll pay for it later when he’s taller and stronger than you. (However, the picture of him in the tutu is still a family favorite so that one’s okay.)

Broccoli is really tasty. I’m serious, it’ll become one of your favorite foods. Actually, a lot of the foods that you think are gross end up being seriously delicious. Except for paté, stay away from that stuff.

Do more musicals. You’re good at them and meet some of your best friends doing them. When you get older you get so busy with other things that there isn’t time to do much theater. Besides, there is just a small window of opportunity to qualify for one of the Von Trapp kids…

Don’t be so shy. I know you don’t like to put yourself out there, but there are a lot of things you’ll miss out on because you’re afraid of making mistakes or what other people will think of you. You are an extremely bright little person with a lot of great ideas so share them. What’s the worse that can happen? I’m not going to tell you but it’s really not that bad.

Surprise! You’re an introvert. That means that you like to think… A LOT. This may not mean anything to you now, but you spend the majority of your youth thinking you’re an extrovert and that’s the reason why you get overwhelmed all the time. Oh, and there’s a difference between being shy and being introverted, so don’t use it as an excuse. It’s rare to find introverts who understand their extreme talents for introspection, so take advantage of it now.

Growing up is more fun than you think. I know you’re afraid of puberty and going to high school and having to act like a grown-up all the time, but you’ll change your mind. Yes, there are days when you miss making mud pies and playing dress up, but there are a lot of things to look forward to, like driving, wearing adult clothes, and getting to see whatever movie you want.

Don’t take your family for granted. I know you love your family now (you always will), but make sure to really cherish the moments you have with them and etch them into your memory. When you get older the memories of the times you are all together will become more valuable than you can imagine. Also, whatever happens, remember that it’s not your fault.

Be 9 years old. You’re just a kid, so try not to put so much pressure on yourself. If you’re not careful, you’ll spend your high school and early college years with an anxiety disorder because you think it’s up to you to keep the world turning. It’s not up to you to keep Mom and Dad happy or the family together or your friends from failing–that’s not your job and it will never be. Also, your future career doesn’t care what your GPA is, so you won’t need to worry about that too much.

Learn to love yourself. You try so hard to be perfect for everyone else that you forget to be the person God made you to be. Yes, you’re awkward, and no, that doesn’t go away, but you find friends who love you for it and wouldn’t change you for a thing. God will use your crazy ability to blurt out random facts and your disabling compassion and concern for others to do some truly amazing things. Stop comparing yourself to your sister, everyone else will do it enough for you. You are you. You are nerdy and bad at small-talk and socially-awkward and creative and talented and smart. Just watch out for your sophomore year of high school, because that awkwardness is inevitable and embarrassing…but you’ll live (consider burning all photo evidence, though).

Don’t regret anything. I don’t. You’ve done pretty well for yourself, kid. You got me where I am today and, although there were some cavernous bumps a long the way, I wouldn’t change any of it. You go through a lot in the next 13 years (gathering enough material to fill at least two seasons of an HBO miniseries), but know that you make it out alive and you learn from it all. Just keep doing what you’re doing now and everything will end up working the way God planned it to. God’s plan may not look like something you want to sign off on, but He takes you on an amazing ride that will change you for the better. He seems to know what He is doing.

Sincerely,

Me

A Letter to Willy Wonka

Lists

Dear Willy Wonka,

One of my favorite movies growing up was your thrilling musical biopic entitled “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”. I can watch that documentary over and over again. I own the soundtrack. I have the beginning of “I Want It Now” memorized. My sister still fears being turned into a giant blueberry. All in all, this movie was a major part of my childhood. To pay tribute to your wonderful work, I have constructed the following list of invaluable things you and your fabulous factory of scrumdiddliumcious secrets has taught me:

1. Eating disorders are okay as long as you own a fantastical factory. Look at you, Willy! You’re spry, skinny, pensive. You’re living proof that you can never eat too much sugar. But now that I think about it, do we ever see you eat anything? Except maybe for that buttercup teacup, I’m pretty sure you don’t eat at all.

2. Use distracting colors and crazy edible objects to escape food safety laws. The Wonka factory could probably get away with murder (and almost does). Nobody questions anything you do. Where’s the FDA when you need them? I’m pretty sure none of the Oompa Loompas wash their hands.

3. Enslaving midgets from another planet is okay as long as you let them sing and torture the tourists. (And give them free reign of the factory tanning salon.)

4. You invented the brainwashing video. Did you ever work for the government?

5. Snozzwangers, Hornswigglers, and Vormicious Knids are things I never want to run into in the streets at night.

6. I want to try a snozzberry.

7. Always take advice from creepy guys in dark alleyways if they offer you money. Especially if they want you to spy for them. Who wouldn’t want to be a spy?

8. If my future child turns out better than Veruca Salt, then I did something right.

9. You can’t buy happiness, but if you buy enough chocolate bars you could end up winning an entire factory.

10. Small boys are stringy and elastic; God invented roller-skates; and the top hat never goes out of style. 

Well, that about does it. Thank you so much for your morsels of wisdom, Mr. Wonka–all priceless information that is sure to be very useful if I ever run into Mr. Slugworth.

But enough about me! How’s life at the factory? Are Charlie and Grandpa Joe doing well? I’m sure that Charlie’s super busy being trained to take over for you once you’re gone. I like to imagine him lifting giant gumdrop weights and making laps in the chocolate river. He’s probably really buff. Do you know if he has a girl friend?

And what about all the other kids? I’m sure that the Oompa Loompas were able to juice Violet back to normal and that little Mike stretched nicely. I do hope that it didn’t take too long to get Augustus out of the pipes and it didn’t disrupt your production timeline. I couldn’t care less about Veruca.

I don’t want to take too much of your time–I know you’re a very busy candyman–but I was just wondering if you are ever planning on having another chocolate contest? I think that you could really do well the second time around and maybe even turn it into a reality TV show. People would like that.

Well, thanks again for making my childhood so sweet and full of chocolatey goodness.

Yours truly,

Haley

P.S. May I call you Willy?