Sunday, February 04, 2007

In Her Hand Was a Bottle of Wine

So, yeah. I just got back from drinking wine at 126. It was fun and wonderful, but you know it means I can't be counted on to make much sense. I know, I know, I always have an excuse. Either I have a migraine, or the stomach flu, or I'm drunk, or I've just fed my ravenous heroin addiction - there's always something preventing me from writing a proper post. Maybe the "about me" section should just contain a huge dislcaimer where I don't hold myself responsible for the content or quality of the writing here. Whatever. I was going to rely on an old photo and intelligently, forego any text that would embarrass me later when I was sober, but I just couldn't shut my pie hole, so there are words written under the photo. As usual, read at your own risk.

Here is a picture that came in that box from my sister. I think the woman in the green shorts is my mom and I don't know who the woman is wearing the white head scarf. This photo was taken in 1954. I have no idea where they were either. (Bermuda?)

My mom went through a period after she graduated from art school and before she went to Loyola to finish her BA., where she lived at home with her folks and worked at someplace called Utilities Engineering Institute. (I got that off of an old resume. The same one where she listed her weekly salary in 1975 at $159.60) She did paste-ups, layouts, illustrations and stripping for visual effect printing. (hmmmm) She saved up her money and would go on trips to South America, Mexico and Bermuda with her friends until it ran out and then would come back to Chicago and start again. It was an odd lifstyle choice for a woman back in the mid-fifties when women didn't really know they had a choice in lifestyles. Though, I certainly went on adventures when I was in my late teens and early twenties, I wish I had been smart enough to leave the country like my mom did.


Remiman said...

You inherited your mother's spunk and drive and someday you'll find a way to see all those for off, and not so far off places.

I love that tree! I down loaded it (I hope you don't mind) so as to attempt to do a pencil drawing. I used to draw a lot but got away from it. That photo prodded my drawing muse. ;-)

uninvitedliketheclouds said...

I always think its funny when old people get drunk

booda baby said...

I'm sorry. I'm laughing at the remark above mine.

I'm not sure that leaving the country was 'smart' - just a different lure. You really went where your heart's impulse led you. (Ick. that sounded like the inside of a greeting card. I hate when that happens. Ick.) Won't it be cool for your daughters to tell how their mom went to Portugal or Cuba or Istanbul (okay, I admit. That's where I want to go.) when she was in her forties.

Yah. I think that'll be fun.

Churlita said...


That's fine. I love that tree too. It almost seems like it's alive.

UninvitedLikeThe Clouds,

I love it when old people get drunk too. Especially, when that old person is me.

Booda Baby,

I'm still laughing.

I'm still not ruling out joining the Peace Corps after my girls turn 18. I'd probably go to Central or South America because I can still kind of speak Spanish.

I would love to see Cuba before Castro dies and it all goes back to the way it was in the fifties.

Postmodern Sass said...

Your mom sounds like an incredible woman. Obviously way ahead of her time. Go cool moms! (As opposed to, you know, rabid packs of them. :-)

Margaret said...

This picture is so cool!

Churlita said...

Post Modern Sass,

My mom was cool, but she was raised very Catholic, so she still had a special gifting instilling guilt.


I know. I liked it even better after Blogger blew it up and I could see things better. That tree kicks so much ass.

I love you in the face said...

That's really neat. Your Mom basically did what I do..but you know, the old way. There are still people at the paper who remember and did that job. They kick us computer babies out of the water by DRAWING various fonts. It's hardcore. The thing is though that they were all unioned out and stuck in the monotony of the work-a-day woes. Maybe your Mom was aware of that and wanted to rock out/relax as much as possible before she settled?

Churlita said...


That's cool that you do the same job my mom did. When we lived in Arizona she was a commercial artist for Motorola.

I bet the job was so much different before computers.

You might be right. I also think that being Irish Catholic, she was aware of how trapped she'd be once she was married and had kids. And man was she ever trapped.