Links!!!!

21 February, 2012

The Weekend I Became A Woman


✍ CURRENTLY WRITING FROM: SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

This weekend was the most magical weekend of my entire life.  And I hate strongly dislike when people refer to ordinary things with weasel words as “best” or “love” or “worst”, because that’s such a big word to use on something that wasn’t even really that good or bad, but, nonetheless, it was an extremely lovely weekend, and I was genuinely upset not once.  I became a woman this weekend.  I did so many “firsts” this weekend, my head is spinning.  (Another cliché, my God, someone shoot me already?)

As you can tell from the pictures  (to be noted: I just took the biggest breath, I’m trying to contain my excitement and be as professional as you can get), I…  I…  I got an actual typewriter.  Not the electric one that was featured in this post, but an actual “press down on the keys, makes a ding sound when you return it back to its place, 300-pounds heavy” typewriter.  (I should include yet another parenthesis where I let you know that I wrote that previous sentence five minutes ago, I’ve still been staring at that typewriter.)  And how did I get that typewriter?  I went to my first antique shop ever.  All of these things require actual bolding.  I mean, I understand that the blogosphere is full of people who’ve been to antique shops or vintage stores or just perfect places like these, but I had never visited any place like this before, and when I walked into this 10,000 square feet place of magic, I couldn’t contain myself.

I went up to my parents and sister’s about five times each and repeated “I’m going to faint, I’m about to faint in this store right now, I need help.”


The shopkeeper (curses, I didn’t get her name) was so nice and every time I did a giddy little dance (embarrassing, the amount of squealing that went on that day), she would politely laugh and say “Oh, it’s so exciting to see this first-hand experience!” and I wanted to be her best friend because she understood me.

And then there was the moment where I died:  The nice old man who was also there running the shop let us play around on the typewriter to make sure it worked, and my sisters and I played around with the keys and wrote our names.  I wrote my full name and I felt like I invented Nutella, and I walked away to pinch myself in private.  But then the nice old man called out “Er, who’s name is Jessica?” And I popped out from behind a bookshelf and said “Me, my name’s Jessica!”  And he said “Well holy sh*t—the original owner, her name was Jessica, too!  Talk about a good omen, amirite?”

To this I had to walk outside and compose myself then walk back inside and quietly shake the man’s hand.



R.I.P Jessica’s Youth

It’s a Remington Quiet-Riter from 1958 and…  I just…  every time I look at it, I just feel like crying, or something more dramatic, if you will, like jumping out a window into the bushes below.

I typed this out the second it touched my desk:

My name is Jessica Samantha Sandoval.  I got this typewriter on February 17th, 2012.  It was sold to me by the kind people at Antiques on Kettner.  The kind old man told me that the last owner of the typewriter was also called Jessica.  I had a heart attack and a half.  But then they brought out the case the typewriter came with, and then I truly lost it.  Then we went to Buffalo Express [you know that thing where you’re writing something and you concentrate accidentally on what someone else is saying while you’re writing and you write out what they’ve said? My sister kept calling the Buffalo Exchange ‘the Buffalo Express’ and whilst I corrected her I accidentally typed it out, curses], and it smelled like drugs.  But I still loved it in there and got a buttload of old dresses.  This day goes down in the history of all the best days there have ever been.”

my page 
That’s right—I also went to my first thrift/vintage/whatever you may call a shop that sells secondhand clothing ever.  The Buffalo Exchange in San Diego did indeed sort of smell like drugs at first, but everyone there was so lovely, it was refreshing (except for the cashiers with pinched faces, but they kept snorting every time someone walked in the store, it was hilarious, I kind of had to love them by the time I was leaving)—when people bumped in to me they smiled and apologized, when someone pushed the clothes on the circular rack too far that they pressed my hand they stopped to apologize, when I reached for the same thing at the same time as someone else, they wanted to let me have it and I just wanted to individually hug everyone in that store—I didn’t, unfortunately, and I always let the other person keep whatever we both wanted, and it made me feel like a woman because that’s a womanly thing to do.

23 comments :

  1. thank you for your lovely comment..
    nice pictures!
    <3 Amuna

    ReplyDelete
  2. ohh that is SO cool! I've always wanted a working typewriter too!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Good storyteller! My grandpa used to repair type-writers back in the day. I have a special place in my heart for them also.

    ReplyDelete
  4. This post.
    Typewriters always remind me of "Bad Education" - the Spanish film by Pedro Almodovar. Watch it, if you haven't.
    Drea.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I had never heard of it, and I watched the trailer and now I'm very interested in it! Such an interesting concept, too! And sad (I'm guessing, from the trailer, that the boy was abused?) ;__;
      Thanks for the recommendation, Drea! :)

      Delete
  5. Oh my gosh, i'm so jealous of what a good day you had. A typewriter would be such a perfect way to write, either for your own pleasure or to people :)

    ♥mollie from musicandmollie

    ReplyDelete
  6. i got in love with that note.
    i think i need to get one

    ReplyDelete
  7. What character this typewriter has! Typewritten letters have such a unique, charming look.

    ReplyDelete
  8. que tierna tu historia escrita en la máquina de escribir :) Mis abuelos tienen una aunque aún no la traigo a casa porque debo hacer espacio en la habitación. La tuya está preciosa, nada escribe más bello que una máquina de escribir, tiene un "algo" mágico...

    ReplyDelete
  9. Oh man, so jealous! I've never even used a typewriter lol:) Antiquing is one of my favorite things to do though- seriously, all of my bedroom furniture is 50+ years old. Love it:)

    xoxo

    Ashley

    http://textbooksandtofu.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  10. AHHH that's so cool! I love your blog.
    Check out mine and follow pleasee :)
    xx gabi

    http://sequinsandspikes.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  11. gosh, i'm so jealous. i would die for an old typewriter! they are amazing! i should really visit a fleamarket again to get one. <3

    xx mika

    ReplyDelete
  12. This is post brings back a lot of memories. The images are still so visually pleasing. Thanks for posting the photos and feel free to drop by me too when you have time.

    Look at the candy!

    ReplyDelete
  13. I've got one also! and i love it!

    ReplyDelete
  14. That typewriter is AMAZING. Jealous!!!!!! I would wear all black all the time and feel like such a writer with that bad boy.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I've never been to an antique shop in my life, so... Also my mother has a typewriter I'd love to have with me, but living an ocean apart from each other doesn't make it easy for me to get it.

    Congratulations, it's really beautiful!!! <3


    Girls that glitter love the dark
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  16. this is an awesome post, it made me smile xx

    ReplyDelete
  17. WHY AM I NOT GETTING NOTIFICATIONS WHEN THIS BLOG UPDATES?! Anyway, I hope the two of you will be very happy together :P

    ReplyDelete
  18. The fact that you had never been to a second hand/vintage shop before kind of baffled me for a second, but after my befuddlement ended this post was so amazing.

    I love (and I really mean this love) that you got so much enjoyment out of things that I take for granted - and I try not to take much for granted (the whole not walking and relearning to walk thing changes you; I'm pretty sure you know what I mean because somehow you've found my blog and I'm glad you did because now I'm here at yours). That was a lot of parentheses typing.

    My dad got an old typewriter from, his grandma, maybe? Oh well, he has it and it used to sit in our dining room and I would go over and type out random notes to random people. Unfortunately, these notes were also invisible since the ink had dried out and we never got a new ribbon. I have no idea where the typewriter is now...hopefully somewhere in the house. I'm so glad that another Jessica enjoys typewriters as much as I used to.

    Also, your last sentence has officially gotten the Shania Twain song stuck in my head.

    ReplyDelete
  19. I'm so jealous! i have been looking everywhere for one!

    ReplyDelete
  20. your blog is adorable sweetie.
    www.theorangewalls.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  21. beautiful pictures! this remind me of classic tales.

    Babi
    www.whenbabispeaks.com

    ReplyDelete

Thank you, pal.