About Boogers

Painted myself into a corner by saying today's blog would be about toenail fungus or boogers and was called on it - TWICE.  Since I can't even watch those Lamisil commercials without puking in my mouth just a little, that leaves boogers.  Great.

So what follows is a ten minute fast-write* on boogers.  Starting now.

Gawd, what kind of mess have I gotten myself into here.  I mean we fast write every week for class, but to do it publicly not knowing what will come out of the unfiltered pen is yikesy.  (NB - Barb I don't know how you did it much less did it for NINE DAYS).

My first memory of boogers is probably kindergarten and Paul L.  He was a booger eater.  There's always one of these kids in every class isn't there?  Paul also sampled the paste (seriously HE ATE THE PASTE), pencils, and I'm pretty sure I saw him put a bunny turd in his mouth once from one of the class rabbits.  He is probably a famous actor or politician by now.  I mean anyone who can put the stuff in their mouth that he did can swallow anything.

In addition to Paul L, there was Jerry O.  This kid was the one who always had the double trail of green under his nose.  Knowing what I know now I have to wonder was he chronically ill?  I am generally more empathetic to the nasally challenged since I are one.  Most of Cincy is yunno.

I was that kid with the tissues wadded in little balls in my desk all the way thru to college.  In HS, I got in trouble for ripping the seam of my plaid uni open and sewing in a pocket so I could carry Kleenex (yes, they are always Kleenex and rarely the more generic tissue) and tampons for when I needed to slip to the bathroom and didn't wanna have to haul my purse.  Like anybody DIDN'T know what you were doing when you took your purse.  I don't know if I got in trouble for adulterating the sacred plaid or by starting some kind of craze.  Pretty soon everyone had a pocket and the nuns were PISSED OFF!

Oh, that wasn't the only thing I did to that hideous polyester nightmare.  After I burned a fairly big hole in it smoking (who knew polyester was so flammable?), I found a panda patch (Panda was our school mascot.  A big slow bear that does nothing but eat and is too stupid to mate - Woo freakin hoo) and sewed it on to cover the hole.  Detention for that one.  Had to buy a new uni.  Was forbidden to install the pocket, but did anyway.  Just careful to never put my hands in it and walk around lookin all James Dean and stuff.

My HS had a 60 page handbook for conduct and a lot of those rules were about dress.  Standard white school blouse, (also some heinous poly blend) tucked in, buttoned with the exception of the top button.  I, being the clever smartass I am now, took home my new blouses and simply cut off the top buttons so that I could have a lower decolletage.  Like why it mattered I STILL don't know.  ALL GIRL HS.  Who would be distracted even if I walked down the hall topless?  Sr. M Mercedes stopped me in the hallway. This particular nun busted me weekly for uni violations.  I hated her.  She hated me.  On this particular morning she pokes me with her claw right in the cleavage and asks me to quote the handbook about blouses.  I recite the piece I wrote above and her eyes began to gleam like she knew she had me.  I calmly explained that I was within regs and showed her where I had simply removed the top button.  She turned a lovely shade of alizarin.

**DING**

Yes, I was an arrogant little berk.  A snot-nosed kid from the burbs who wanted to be anywhere but where she was and took that out on everyone.



* For those people reading this not from WWfaC, a fast write is an exercise that is stream of consciousness writing without any edits for a designated period of time.