Back to the ghost mall today. She calls to make sure what she needs is in stock as promised two days ago. A bout of insomnia last night means a late wake up for me and that means getting ready for the day long past noon.
“Are you ready?”
“Almost!”
I pick up snacky lunch dishes while she gets ready.
“Are you ready now?”
“Almost!” Antsy, I’m ready to go and return home for doing all of the things that need doing. If we don’t go now, we’ll get stuck in traffic on the way back.
“Let’s go!” I holler impatiently.
“I’m almost ready!”
“You said that two almosts ago!”
#lifewithateen
Why can’t she just answer the question with a simple yes or no?
Met up for pedis with one friend this morning and met our other friend for coffee afterward. We taught together years ago before the great split. A. went on to work as an instructional coach. About five years later, I shifted into my librarian position. C left the district to teach in a nearby district and returned as an instructional coach as well. She’s on my campus this year and I’m lucky we’re back together again, even if we don’t see each other every day as we once did.
We’ve watched our kids grow up and we’ve helped each other grow, professionally and in our friendship. Retirement is a much closer option we’re currently discussing although we’re still a few years from it. They’ll catch up to us.
My car took a few tries to start when we left the salon. A quick message: “My car isn’t starting!” followed by “Never mind. Got it.” I can’t tell if it’s the car battery or the key fob battery. Hubby and I begin bickering about it when I get home, he was called in to work a few hours early and doesn’t have time to check into it. He leaves his key fob so I can experiment and take it in to get the battery tested. Except, I don’t. I’d like to catch up on chores I’ve let slide.
S. wants to watch episode 3 of a series we started. I like to pin down any minute she’s open to hanging out with me. Last night, as we watched episode two, she fell asleep, her head on my lap. She leaned into me like she did when she was little, breathing deeply knowing I’m right there when she wakes up.
We agree to a speed clean to pick up bits of our spring break carelessness. I plan to pop in to get my slice posted and I notice the wi-fi is down. Uggg! My phone connection is slow. I troubleshoot and reset the router. Doesn’t work. I don’t have the patience to deal with calling our provider.
S. skips out announcing, “I’m ready to watch!”
“Wi-fi is down and nothing I’m doing is working. Give me a bit and I’ll see if I can get it working.”
A bit later, she changes her mind.
“Well, since we can’t watch anything, J. invited my to hang out and have dinner. Can you take me?”
It’s a nice day and I almost say she should walk to J’s, but decide to drop her off.
Arriving back home, I get my gear on and take a long walk. I found a new to me trail tucked behind a newer neighborhood. Earbuds are in, but about ten minutes into my walk, I decide to unplug. Might as well connect with sunlight and blue skies.
A canceled appointment led S. and me to the mall for something she wanted (and definitely didn’t need). The only place to get it is from a store at the mall. It’s almost 11:00 and the parking lot is deserted. Did we miss something? I turn a corner and find a small group of cars parked near the front doors of an anchor store. Prime real estate back in its hey-day.
We go through Macy’s bedding department. All of the beds are dull beige with lifeless and colorless bedding. They don’t look inviting. Gone are the days of wanting to curl up in a cushy and fluffy department store bed. I bypass Christmas themed super clearance dinnerware I don’t need. Someone else can get the deal. Geoffrey the Toys R Us giraffe from the kids’ toy section grins at no one, pink Barbie boxes line shelves willing kids to take a look, but there are no kids. We pass escalators that are either broken or turned off. To save energy? Who knows. We head to the front of the store that opens to the mall.
I haven’t been here in years. I missed the mark and parked on the opposite end of where we need to go. What was once an old Borders book store is open, full of giant stuffed Pokémon and other licensed stuffed toys in the windows, but more shops are caged closed with the lights off than those brightly flashing their wares. Jewelry stores. Candles. Shoes. A boutique announcing everything must go to no one but us.
Nearby escalators we planned to take are also not operational. What’s up with the escalators? We continue on, looking for people. I relay my “when I was your age” story about how spring break brought everyone who didn’t go anywhere to the mall. Even that was a treat for those who didn’t travel. We pass the food court. Every seat is available. Chick-fil-a lines snaking around tables are gone. A pretzel place is there, but most other well-known food court spaces disappeared. Pizza. Baked potatoes. Footlong corndogs. Panda Express. All gone. A shut down movie theater around the corner doesn’t send its buttery popcorn scent luring people to catch a flick.
Finding working escalators, we descend to the first floor. Gray covers robe vendorless mall carts stationed along the center walkways. No one asks us to test lotion, no cheap silver jewelry beckons us to take a look and politely decline. A mom with two littles smiles as they sit on the Easter bunny’s lap-likely the same costume used for the past thirty years-no line here either.
“That bunny is creepy.”
Formal dresses sparkle, desperately hoping for a prom queen or quinceañera to take them out of their misery and out on the town. S. doesn’t give them a second look, but if I were choosing, it would be the long emerald green one.
We arrive at the shop S. needed to find. Is this place open? It’s hard to tell. Half the lights are off, but the space is open, so we go inside.
“We’re out of stock right now,” the lone sales clerk informs us, “but our shipments come in at noon on Thursday.” We’re the only three people in the store and she she stands behind the counter as if she’s afraid to come out, peering at us, confirming we’re real people shoppers.
Wanting to take a quick look, we walk around to another anchor store. The lights are on, sign still flashing brightly, but the glass doors are closed. All inventory has been stripped, fixtures bare, but signs still advertise manly cologne.
“Let’s get out of here. This place is sad and depressing. It has really low energy, Mom, I don’t like it.”
An empty coin operated carousel offering FUN plays an odd calliope circus tune as an animatronic Build-a-Bear waves, flanked by stuffed bears, pink Peeps, bunnies, and rabbits advertising spring.
Easter bunny sits alone, the mom and her littles long gone.
***
Today, I stepped into our version of the Jasper Mall documentary.
A little before I settled in for writing, running through a mental of list of zero topics, one dropped into my phone. E, my 23 year old, started the conversation. He loves pulling pranks on me, making it difficult to know whether he’s serious or not.
ScreenshotScreenshotScreenshotScreenshot
He drove through The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Gotta love how builders select names for subdivisions and stick to the theme. Stories manage to find their way into every part of our lives. I read about a Friends themed subdivision being built a few years ago in a nearby town. Friends in Texas.
Today may be a good day to hunker down with a good Western.
As promised, I’m tagging his tumblr post here. *language alert
How’s it going? We’re in double digits like champs! Thank you for reading my posts. The seem blah this week, but it happens. For the 7th consecutive year, I haven’t planned a theme or focus like other slicers. On second thought, fly by the sesat of your pants is a plan. Anyone else with me?
Some of the plans I’ve noticed (I wish I had time to read them all) are those from Carpe Fabula,Pedaling Poet, and Horizon 51. Ryan Graybill’s Phoning Home to 3rd Gradeled me to Carpe Fabula’s school reflections. Both Ryan and his pal have taken me back to my own school memories. Thanks, you two! Sharon Roy of Pedaling Poet is not only a first time slicer, but she’s also reading War and Peace and rewriting in haiku, a chapter a day. Wow! Chris Margocs of Horizon 51, who invited me to SOL, pairs her slices with daily walks. Check them out.
Connection story: after reading one of Sharon’s posts, I discovered we live in the same area. Small world.
I’m on staycation mode this week. SXSW has downtown Austin crammed with visitors, and while I welcome their presence, I’m staying away. I no longer have patience for large crowds. It has also become something completely different. Gone are the days where you’d line up at a bar, pay the cover, and see an up-and-coming band. You. might even buy a CD, have it autographed and see them at the Grammys the following year. “I saw them before they were famous!” I didn’t line up outside of bars during spring break at SXSW though—I was underage and didn’t run around with the fake ID crowd—but that’s what it was. Now it’s a big celebration of people who can drop over a grand for a conference badge to listen to a bunch of tech, movie, and music execs, stars and influencers. It’s where the unknowns came to become known, but now they seem overshadowed by the big names. That was the whole point.
There are some family-friendly *free* events, but it’s too much work orchestrating an outing of that magnitude. I’ll visit other places instead. Maybe. I’m currently mulling over the tile my husband and I chose for the kitchen backsplash. We didn’t bicker much about it, so I’m second guessing myself, wondering if I should visit more tile stores tomorrow or let it be. Maybe the tile chose us.
I’m enjoying sleeping in, morning puttering, and not having to worry about having to be anywhere but here. Call me a homebody.
Heading into week 3, what are you looking forward to writing or doing? Here’s to another week of slicing!
Be well,
-Alice
P.S. I’m currently reading The Space Between Here and Now, a YA book about time travel. I’m beginning to see a pattern. What are you reading?
Well, not really, but I love that line from A Christmas Story, so it’s useful. Yesterday, I received a work chat that I was randomly chosen to join our library directors for a possible lunch (getting details) with middle grade author Gordon Korman at our annual library conference. “Reply by the end of the day if you want to join us, or we’ll choose someone else.”
It was 6:48 p.m. Although I don’t like to check email at home, I checked email at home and saw 4 chat notifications. Huh. I worked online all day catching up on back end tasks requiring a computer in addition to checking books out to steady streams of students who came in for more books. How did I miss them?
My internet wasn’t connecting well. It happens on cloudy days on top of the fact that the kids’ devices and non-allowed phones suck up bandwidth. I reply anyway hoping the end of the day means later than the end of the workday.
This morning, I received details. Two of us were selected to join our directors. I don’t know how many other people are invited, but I’m in! I get to have lunch with Gordon Korman at the end of the month. What a fantastic surprise. With over 100 books published, there is no way I can read them all before the big day, but I have a soft spot for Schooled.
Thank you for reading my posts. Year 7 is one I almost skipped. I’m glad I didn’t. This is a challengeiing task, but its all of you who keep me coming back each year. New Slicers, I hope you enjoy being here as much as I do.
I considered writing all of my posts in letter form. However, it’s more time consuming gatheriing my stationery (I’m not an early prepper-I fly by the seat of my pants), scanning, & uploading said letter, and then inevitably I’d falter and maybe even quit. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter, but I also didn’t want to rush through the process.
Lately, I’ve reserved my Sundays for slowing down. Since I started the Sunday Letter Project (I wrote about it last week), I loof forward to writing Sunday letters. I’m penning this letter with a jazz playlist swaying in the background while teen girl mixes up a batch of chocolate-chocolate chip cookie mix for boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow. It’s an overcast day with drizzle willing itself to stay locked int the clouds while we recuperate from the lost hour of precious time.
How are your slices going? I find myself writing mini-slices as comments sometimes. I’ll either save these posts or take screenshots. I may or may. not revisit them for the inevitable writer’s block. Shout out to Cindy of mschiubookawrites whose deftly drafted comments tie in with the post. If you haven’t already done so, check out the inspirational posts each day, but also those highlighted by other writers. Writer’s block is ALWAYS an appropriate slice and definitely “counts.”
Spring break is next week for me, so I plan to read more posts. I’m also saving some for later. Some possible slice topics:
my late uncle’s 18 wheeler based on a comment another slicer’s post (I need to look for it)
“Information is disposable”-from a discussion with 8th graders
Amelia Earhart, Helen Keller, and a Bessie Coleman Barbie-8th graders again
Isn’t everyone “a creative” from a crafter I follow online
What’s in my analog bag
Eight days down, twenty three more reps to go. Hang in there. Have a fabulous week. I’ll attempt to wrangle the rest of this day and tell it to SLOW DOWN!
Sincerely,
Alice
P.S. I recently finished Twice: A Novel by Mitch Albom. It’s about time travel. What are you reading?
P.S.S. Is anyone interested in receiving a Sunday letter in the mail?
She struts on stage with small quick steps, wearing a snug black long sleeve shirt, high-waisted turquoise and navy polka dot capris that zip up the back, black kitten heels, and bobby socks. Another girl accompanies her, stage giggles and conversations over a menu summon empty red drink glasses from a waiter. They take their drinks and move from a table to a diner counter, backs to the audience, continuing their conversation.
The plot continues across the stage until the end. Cast members, hand in hand, take center stage. Bow. Applause.
We stop for ice cream on the way home.
A late night for a Thursday. Time to decompress. The dog sniffed us all, reassured of our presence. She’s gone her way. Myth Busters keeps my husband company. I’m tapping away at my laptop. Her backpack sits in her chair at the kitchen table.
Strewn across the table, a yellow envelope holds notes of encouraging words from her directors. Yes, I read them. Two white long-stemmed roses rest next to a long plastic nose.
Cyrano ’26 is written on one side of the nose, Sophie on the other.
I take the roses, sniff their scent, and fill a white bud vase with water.
There was once a credit card company commercial asking what’s in your wallet. Today’s answer isn’t a specific credit card, it’s a phone and in that phone there’s a “wallet.”
Have you heard of the craze? My son, along with people I watch in thirty second blips while doomscrolling, introduced me to the term. An analog bag is a tote, backpack, basket, messenger bag, or any other type of portable container for storing items one can reach for instead of those little devices that are so much more than phones.
My son’s bag contains an MP3 player, wired headphones (they sound so much better, Mom!), a journal, a sketchbook, an actual book (he stopped reading for funsies in high school), pencils, a pen, a vintage Polaroid camera, and his Nintendo DS. There are still electronic devices, but said electronic devices can’t access the internet. The camera can only snap photos. The MP3 player only plays music. The DS only allows playing solo games.
The trend is popular among many Gen Z’ers. I’m hopeful the trend will trickle down and gain popularity among middle and high schoolers. I’ve gotta give my boy credit, along with everyone else doing this, for recognizing the need to slow down. I believe people are at a breaking point with the negative effects of device and social media overuse. People are exhausted from noticing how much time is spent online.
Gone are the days of surfing the net. We’re now drowning in the abyss of information and misinformation and short form video and endless subscriptions to everything we could ever want and everything we don’t need.
I’ve noticed many social media accounts run by those who became accidental influencers become silent, change, or disappear altogether. Some people behind said accounts announce they either stepped away or will be closing them in favor of getting back in touch with themselves. It must be exhausting putting your life online all day every day.
I may have laughed at the idea of an analog bag because it seems so logical. Grab a bag, put your favorite stuff in it and take it with you. However, Gen Z is accustomed to taking everything in one tiny pocket sized device. Seeing someone reading a book, knitting a scarf, writing in a journal, playing solitaire, or doing anything other than being on a phone is a great conversation starter. People are wanting more in-person connection.
If it’s analog bags that get us there, then I’m all for it. I hope it isn’t a short-lived trend.
Nerds Beget Nerds 