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2009-08-17 - On Our Next Episode . . .

2009-06-12 - RetroReflectionReaction

2009-04-13 - The Me Decade

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The Me Decade

2009-04-13 - 8:37 p.m.

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Listening To: Frank Sinatra, Radiohead, Donna Summer, Hot Chip

"I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! Because it's WHISKEY!" - Zach, on Nanny's secret whiskey

�����It smelled and sounded like the 1970's today.

�����Which is odd, because I was only alive for 1979 and half of 1978. And I would think my smell and sound retention for those waning days of the Carter Administration wouldn't be so crisp.

�����I know I could simply chalk it up to the fact that we were playing disco on the p.a. system at the Corn Maze all day while we administered Spring Cleaning Techniques (TM), but I'd like to think it was the way the sun shone in my warped office window, with plush tools and greek aprons drying in the light. Or the way a gingham sample clashed with the drip of the Poland Spring comfort grip. I guess it could have been both. I seemed to have woken up and didn't know where I was or how I knew any of these people. Before I had fallen asleep I was under a pine tree covered in monopoly money and worried about nothing more than finding a quick way to China (or Australia) through the muddy spot underneath the intersection of the two large birch trees at the border of my backyard.

�����But . . . I guess that was the dream and this is the reality. This happens a lot. More than it should. Real grocery store versus Dream grocery store. One usually has more celebrities and a less efficient lighting system. You understand the phenomenon when there are too many characters / actions on the screen on an old 8-bit system and everything skips / slows until it can catch up to the motherboard? Ok, good. So you understand. That saves me from having to explain it then.

�����I need to find a second job to supplement my income in a way so that every 5 & Dime doesn't cause me to mentally thumb my bills. I really don't want to do anything food related. Oh, that smell and sting of lemon juice in the cracks of your fingers! How it haunts me still! And then Aunt Suzy tells me at Easter that there was a prostitution ring that just got busted in Portsmouth! Always a few days late, a few tanning appointments short! Story of my life. It could have been a nice fit. I wouldn't have had any congress with my clients - oh, golly no! But if some old dowager wanted to hire me for my time and we could watch old Warren Beatty films from the '70's and fashion ink stamps out of half potatoes? Well, that would have been just fine.

�����I don't know why a decade I don't remember keeps lapping up against my brain like a persistent pet rock. But it does. And I'm ok with that.

����������It's been real,

���������������Leeza Gibbons

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