Old iPhone Notes

I was looking through the “Notes” section of my iPhone today on the hunt for an easy laugh. Now don't get me wrong, the notes section of my iPhone is FULL of important information from passwords, to words of wisdom from friends, and a plethora of airline confirmation numbers. But like all humans, I am not perfect. Sometimes I leave really dumb notes for myself. For example I have a note from November 3 2011 that just says “Air Supply.” This note could be one of two things, either I was reminding myself to check out the band Air Supply OR I had just watched the scene in Space Balls where the giant robot spaceship maid vacuums up all the air from the planet Druidia and I was concerned that something similar could happen to Earth…hence “Air Supply" as in "you should appreciate the air supply you have on your planet because it could be sucked up at any moment by the evil Dark Helmet."

I recently stumbled across a note labeled “My Greatest Fears” (please see photo on the right).

I would like to point out that these are all very valid fears and that I made this list in the early afternoon. 1 PM is my most rational hour of the day. Also since the writing of this note in February...my car has been towed. 

My Southwest Rapid Rewards Number makes an impressive five appearances in my iPhone notes, most intriguing of which is at the end of a list entitled "Vitamins"where I listed all the places I could get B1. For those of you wondering you can get your daily dose of B1 from eggs, oatmeal, brown rice, cauliflower or my Rapid Rewards Number.

I've noticed a trend on my To-Do lists where I constantly ponder whether or not to purchase a George Foreman Grill...

Target Trip:

Shower curtains

chicken

George Foreman?

For the record I still do not own a Foreman Grill...and I still don't know if I should get one.

I made a list of movies with really good clean-up scenes...The Cat in the Hat, Smart House, Space Jam, The Wizard of Oz, and Mary Poppins (duh). On May 5th I had an idea for a restaurant where all the food is named after "literary characters! or stories or whatever!!!!!" I was very excited about this idea. Here's an example of what the Brunch menu would look like (because who doesn't L-O-V-E brunch?)

Peter Pancakes

Green Eggs and Ham (had to have it)

Don Quixote Omelette (Spanish Omelette)

Farenheit 451 (a really spicy breakfast skillet)

The Elizabeth Benett Special (bottomless mimosas)

The menu needs some work. Also I need a name for the restaurant...but the passion is there.

I have a note from January 14th which simply says "No Ice Machine." Life's little challenges. 10 days later I wrote a note to my soulmate in the wee hours of the morn (plz see below).

I also have notes that, on the surface, make absolutely no sense.

“Should probz switch to wate

You are a terrible

Lou hilts poem"

This note is absolutely the drunken product of a night out on the town. Thus “Should probz switch to wate” means “I should probably switch to water.” Why I was writing myself that note as opposed to doing it, I cannot tell you. But I CAN tell you that I probz did not switch to wate. Which leads to the next part of the note “You are a terrible.” A terrible what?! Person, drinker, dancer, speller, all of the above?! Whatever it was…I hope it is no longer true. The final part of the note is the best part though. When I went back days later and read this I had no idea who Lou Hilts was/is or what poem I could possibly have been referring too. So being the iPhone sleuth that I am I googled “Lou hilts poem.” Google did not find anything about Lou Hilts but the G-bot (Google Robot) did ask “Did you mean Lou Holtz poem?” No I did not! But I also did not know Lou Holtz wrote poetry, so I decided to check it out. Championship coach, endearing ESPN commentator, Academy Award winning cameo in The Blind Side AND he writes poetry, is there anything that this man doesn’t do? Well as it turns out he does not write poetry. The Google search lead me to a short letter Lou wrote to a woman named Linda Ellis who is the author of a poem called “The Dash”:

Dear Linda,

I can’t honestly tell you how this poem “The Dash” has affected my life, but hopefully it affected other people when I used it. I’d always tried to make every day count and not count the days, and hopefully I’ve been a good example for other people to follow. However, that’s not for me to evaluate, but God will some day. Thank you agin.

Sincerely,

Lou Holtz

Any poem that gets that kind of review from Coach Holtz has my interest. I went back to my trusty Google and looked up the text of the poem. I don’t want to post the whole thing here because I’m afraid it might be some sort of internet fraud or plagiarism but when you get a chance I suggest you do a little googling yourself...you won't regret it. My blog sends you on adventures!

The final note I would like to share with you is from February 29 2011

"Be young be foolish but be happy...The Tams"

YouTube it.

Fun Facts

My YouTube account is British. It filters through a “co.uk” because I made it when I studied abroad in London

I do not have a favorite color. But right now I am really into classic yellow.

The first time I read Harry Potter I returned it to the library after reading the first chapter.

At one point I didn’t really need glasses. I just really wanted them so I faked that I couldn’t read the letters in an eye exam. Now I really do need them. In fact I can’t find them right now so I made the font bigger while I typed this so I could read what I was writing better.

If I ever get any pets (which I won’t) they will be called George, Richard, and Imogen.

The time I felt most cheated in my life was in 6th grade when I didn't win my school's Oratorical Contest. My speech on Dorothy Day made a teacher cry! I got beat by a kid who had to be prompted twice! I was ROBBED. And no, I'm not "over" it.

Imogen is also what I will call my daughter if I marry a foreigner. Her nick-name can be Jeanie until she is confident enough to go by Imogen full time.

One of my favorite movie lines ever is from the disaster movie 2012 starring John Cusack. It’s from the end of the movie when the survivors of nature’s apocalyptic fury are trying to ride out the rising oceans in a giant iron ark/submarine. They are nearly home free when something pops up on the radar! Cue line “29,000 feet? What the hell is at 29,000 feet?!” Answer: Mount Everest! It’s an awesome scene. Also, sorry if I ruined that movie for you but its been out for like 3 years so you should have seen it already.

I'm really jealous that C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien were friends without me because I think I would have fit in with their group really well. I have an affinity for the fantastic and my name also sounds good as initials (J.D. Fisher...screw you Salinger).

My favorite Keanu Reeves movie is Constantine. My favorite Keanu Reeves quote is from The Replacements (Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Glory lasts forever.) I don't like The Matrix movies.

When Can I Sit At The Big Kid Table: An Elementary School Fairytale

Here is a sneak peak at the very incomplete story of my childhood that I hope to one day publish before E-readers take over and it is too late to see it on a bookshelf.

Prologue

           The first thing I ever learned was not to touch a hot stove. I was four and my mom had specifically told me NOT to touch the burning hot spiral of iron from which she had just removed a pot of classic Kraft Mac n’ Cheese. We can take three things away from this short fable. One, it took me a very long time to finally learn something. Two, mom is always right. And three, if someone tells you NOT to do something you’re definitely going to do it.

            Let’s start with my delayed “first lesson." I have to conclude that since it took me four years of life before I finally learned something, that until I defiantly touched that stove, I had been leading a perfect existence. You generally only learn something because you’ve done something else wrong. So for 48 months I did everything right, I was killin’ it. I guess you could count learning how to walk and talk but I don’t remember “learning” those lessons. Walking and talking are something babies inevitably adapt into doing because their parents aren’t bringing them food fast enough. Think about it, toddlers are always climbing around trying to get into the fridge or the cookie jar (if those are still a thing) and I’m pretty sure a baby chooses to say either “mama” or “dada” first based on which parent provides them with the most treats. My first word was “bagpipe” which clearly means every time I was eating as an infant bagpipes were either a heavy topic of conversation and/or being played.

            At the wise old age of 22 I can now confidently and humbly recognize that mom is always right. I can’t speak for every mother I suppose but MY mom, supermom of five children of varying levels of delinquency, was and is always right. She was right when she told me at the age of 9 that I would not like the movie Titanic. Mom hit that one dead on the head. In my youth I was a Titanic fanatic. I’m talking saw the IMAX movie, Titanic: Ghost of the Abyss 5 times (which is two more times than I saw Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring). As a little girl I was obsessed with the American Girl dolls and when I visited Chicago for the first time my mom took me to The American Girl Place but then surprised me after with a visit to the Titanic Exhibit at The Chicago Museum of Natural History…I left my doll at the coat check. To paint a not so subtle picture for you, I was essentially the youngest foremost authority on the tragic history of that ill-fated ship. So being the dedicated historian that I was, I insisted to my mother that I, unlike my silly compatriots, wanted to see the movie for purely educational purposes. Needless to say I was disgusted with how little attention was given to the architectural miracle that the grand staircase was and appalled at the flagrant sex between unmarried teens. At a very young age I developed skyscraper levels of morality. It wasn’t until I watched the movie again when I was 14, when turbulent hormones and the never ending roller coaster of teenage emotions had firmly taken hold of my psyche, that I truly appreciated the sweeping cinematic masterpiece of James Cameron’s Titanic. Mother was also correct when she told me that I was not going to die, pass out, or acquire a pH imbalance when I sliced my finger cutting a lemon. To this day the only time my mom has been wrong is when it concerns traffic, and to be fair to her she can't really control that...yet.

            Finally, to plagiarize me some Jane Austen, it is a truth universally acknowledged that any parent (or person) telling a child (literal or metaphorical) not to do something must be prepared to have aforementioned advice thrown back into their faces, verily. We, the human race, are naturally curious. Curiosity may have killed the cat and it may have killed a fair share of our brethren but its also led peoplekind (all inclusive) to many an amazing discovery. I bet you a lifetime supply of chocolate that Lewis and Clark set out on their adventurous journey Westward because Lewis’ boring cousin Bernard (50/50 chance that was his name) said “Don’t do that! You’ll get lost!” Um no they won’t Bernard they’ll be brave and a little bit stupid but they’ll Sacagawea and forge a trail all the way to the Pacific Ocean. If Lewis and Clark hadn’t braved that uncharted territory all those years ago, the Wild West may never have been tamed. And then where would we have put Las Vegas? Would technology as we know it even exist if those nerds at Mircosoft, Apple and Facebook didn’t have Silicon Valley to fiddle away in? And I think we can all agree that surfing on the East Coast just ain’t like surfing on the West Coast (Is that right? I don’t know. I don’t surf.) What I’m trying to say here is, by touching that stove in my youth I was really expressing my innate sense of curiosity and independence. It was there, in that kitchen on the outskirts of Atlanta, that my own great journey undoubtedly started. I imagine the story of my life could only commence in this way,

“A flash of white hot pain and misery rushed up the tiny, yet powerful hand of the four year old, who thought she was closer to twenty-seven then to five, as she defiantly touched the burning metal of the kitchen stove. “OUCH!” the dark haired miscreant screamed, indignant that a mechanism which created such joy in the form of Mom’s Mac n’ Cheese could also bring such anguish. Heroically whimpering, the little girl, who did not like to be called “little,” slumped to the floor, waiting to be found by a sympathetic parent. And so the adventure began.”