An Experiment in Vandalism

For a couple of years now, I've had a very specific prank in mind, but hadn't had the correct timing to do it. Last year, April Fool's Day fell over a convention I volunteer at, and the year before I hadn't thought out the idea early enough to make it happen. But this year, I was prepared.

This year, April Fool's Day happens to land right next to Easter. A rare occurrence, and perfect for what I had intended. So what could be a perfect Easter prank, you ask?

Well, let me show you the sign. (You can click on the images for a larger view.)

I live in a town home that is part of several others called "The Villages of River Woods." At both entrances to this area, there is a sign (shown above) that designates this area. It's easy to tell what it is: trees in front of a river.

But... I think it looks like a bunny. A blue rabbit looking to the right from the trees. Maybe you can see it, maybe you can't. But trust me, there's a bunny there.

And I wanted everyone to see it.

Over a year ago, I told Andrew what it looked like to me and when he saw it too, he complained that he couldn't unsee it. "You've ruined my brain," he said. That was okay with me. I was eager to ruin minds for this. The bunny prank had become my obsession. So I made a plan to put the rabbit on the River Woods sign.

I took a photo, and drew out on Microsoft Paint what I wanted it to look like. Then I had to decide what materials to use. Andrew suggested glass paint for automobiles. It comes off in the rain and isn't hard to use. I had also considered just painting it with regular wall paint, since this sign needed repainting anyway, and maybe I could just help speed the association along. But I didn't want to be that person. So instead, I decided to go with construction paper. Easy to put up, easy to take down. And no harm would be done to the sign.

I decided to only do one sign, because the second was harder to get to, a little taller, and not seen by as many people. The one on River Woods Lane intersecting River Hills Drive would be good enough. Yesterday at Target, I also decided to switch to a firmer poster board and that I would either use tacks or tape to affix the pieces, depending on what would work once I got up there. I assumed the sign was wood, but as I found out (and Andrew bet me so), it was metal. So tape it would be. I also cut up several sizes of the pieces in case I didn't have the measurements in my mind correctly. Two eyes, three noses and two mouths in all.

I decided that 3 A.M. seemed the best time to do this. Bar crowd should be home and hopefully no police patrolling. I was going to just walk down from my house, but took the car instead as to have a quick getaway. Also, it was cold outside.

My alarm went off at three, and Andrew and I got into his truck and we drove down the street, me quickly affixing tape to the pieces. When he stopped the car, I ran to the sign, stuck the pieces on, and hurried back. I had the tacks with me, but as I stated earlier, I found out that it was metal and they weren't needed.

Overall, I think it turned out well. The only thing I think I should have changed was the smile. I cut the mouth too big and probably should have used the smaller piece. But by the time I realized it, I didn't want to risk driving back a second time and possibly exposing ourselves.

After all, it was Easter morning and the Easter bunny could be out there watching me.

This morning, I went to grab donuts for Andrew and I and check the sign to see if the pieces were still on. I was a little worried that someone would have come by and torn them off. But luckily, they were well in tact.

Yes, I definitely should have made the mouth smaller. Ah, well. It's still a smiley bunny. 

This is the view from River Hills Drive, as you are coming up to River Woods. If you can't see a bunny now, well, you're just not looking very hard. 

So, that is my Easter/ April Fool's prank. Andrew said I was "bad ass," but then took it back instantly so I wouldn't think that my bunny prank was actually vandalism. I didn't spray tag graffiti on a bridge or anything.

But I might. If I saw a bunny there. ;-)

The Past Destroyed - Part II

My house has turned into a drying station for wet, forgotten items of my youth

Since the flooding debacle in the garage on Saturday (see Part I), I haven't had much time to work with the wet items. Mostly, Jake and I have been pouring boiling water on ice, chopping ice, sweeping the water out of the garage, emptying buckets, and using the neighbor's super-long hose to spray out as much ice as we could from the gutters. Attaching the hose to the water heater was a great idea - and I'm so very happy we were lucky enough to have our neighbors there when they were.

But since I have more time to survey the damage, I've been laying out wet items and putting papers in front of fans. My entire upstairs is being used as drying space.

 

Yes, you are seeing correctly - the papers run from the deck doors into the kitchen. It was hard to walk around them after putting them down. But thankfully, they only took a couple hours to dry. The yearbooks are taking much longer. But I'm not as worried as I was when I first saw the wet books. I felt certain they were going to be ruined, but thankfully, they aren't - not completely. Sure, I cannot read some of the signatures anymore, but I can still see the pictures, and that's enough; I don't have to buy a new book just because the pages are rippled now.

And in the process of drying things out, I realized that I hadn't looked at these in a really long time. Probably since I packed them in the first place. Which I'm pretty sure was before college. Maybe after. Either way, I can't believe how many papers I kept. Notes passed between classes, letters to and from my mom and brother, and other random pages that I haven't looked through enough to categorize.

There are a lot of memories in these pages, and with a few items - things I hadn't realized I'd forgotten about. A laminated signature poster from my speech class with a note from Katie, drawings of Winnebagos from Abby, notes from Amber and a few even from myself that I never sent to their intended audiences.

(Note from Katie)

(1/3 of Abby's autograph pages in my junior yearbook)

All of these items hold only sentimental value, but only enough in that I have to remember it. It's been 16 years since I graduated high school, and I honestly hadn't though much about it since. The friendships and the experiences left memories, but the things themselves didn't.

I suppose what I've learned through this entire process is that no matter what I lose, I haven't lost everything. I love seeing the old conversations that I had with friends regarding a concert or our minimum-wage jobs or about how we were finding ourselves - but I really am happier knowing that in the end, the day-to-day drama only made us more of who we are today, and the little things, the detailed process of how we got there, doesn't matter as much.

That being said, I'm very thankful these items were salvageable  I like to have some physical representation of my friendships from school. I hope that one day I can show my kids and say, "Don't think that you're weird. We were ALL nuts in high school."

I don't see my high school friends now as much as I'd like. We've all moved on in our lives and careers. But I know that within those people who I knew long ago still lives the teenager inside who had doubts and fears, but overcame them. And not because she had notes or books to remember her friends, but because she lived those experiences and became a better person because of it.



Note:
If you'd like to see more images from my crazy during-and-post-flood experience, they are here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/danny279/sets/72157632980722779/with/8553745374/

The Past Destroyed - Part I

My day did not go well today.

Opening the garage door to leave for a meeting, I realized that it was raining outside...and in. I noticed that the water was coming down directly in the center of the garage, where we have a large metal beam covered in drywall. The drywall was already pretty wet and my guess was that with all the snow Andrew and I had left on the deck, it was just too much and was melting more than the gutter could handle.

I probably should have not gone to my meeting at all, but instead I called my brother Jake to ask him for help  in shoveling the snow off the deck. He did, but when I talked to him prior to my second meeting, he said the leaking was still pretty bad. I decided to leave and get home to work on the problem. I'm sure a few people might have wondered why I was leaving 5 minutes before the meeting, but no doubt some of them have seen my status on Facebook and understood what happened.

When I got home I saw that the water wasn't just coming down in the center, but the entire length of the beam in the garage. Boxes we had on the sides of our garage were getting wet, and I immediately set to work removing them. What I thought had just been a few drips was actually a lot more. I was able to move or save all but one box - my box of memories.

This white box with a flip top and seam that runs down the middle had gotten water inside, and it had pooled about six inches full on the bottom. Jake and I tipped the box to corral the water out, and then emptied it inside the house.

On this box I had a note clear taped to it: Danielle's Private Box: Do Not Open. I put that note there years ago, not really believing it would be a deterrent should anyone want to pry, but more or less hoping to spare myself of the embarrassment should someone find my yearbooks and treasures. But the feeling of watching a simple element like water destroy the items inside was far more painful. Yearbooks, journals, diplomas, two graduation caps and a gown, pictures, trinkets, postcards, letters, copies of email, and a box of random keepsakes - all soaked with water. Some just a little, some completely drenched, but nothing made it out dry. I took a deep breath and looked at Jake, who no doubt expected me to lose my cool right there. My head was warm and I could feel the tears swelling. But I didn't have time for it - I had to get back to work. I sucked in my feelings and didn't think of the items until we had cleaned up what we could.

I don't consider myself a sentimental person (if you know my mother, you know why), but it's very hard to let go of your youth when you guarded it so carefully. My 4 journals detailing my life from age 14 to 24 was my coming of age. And my yearbooks (elementary, middle, and high school) were just as important. Sure, I don't see most of those people anymore, but they were reminders of a simpler time, and the innocence of youth. The drama was higher, and everything a big deal, but still easier somehow.

And there they were. Destroyed before my eyes.

I've started going through the pieces. Some things I could save. Single pieces of paper that weren't attached to anything. Photos where the ink hadn't run. A coin and a plastic keychain. Cardboard was ruined though. As was anything with pen ink. That's where the real trouble was with the yearbooks and journals - the pen ink bled into the neighboring pages. Most of the words written are illegible now, but I'm hoping that with a bit of drying, I might get lucky. In the meantime, I threw away a bunch of items, and took pictures of some things before I did. I won't be able to get them back as they are, but I can still hold on to the memory of them, and that's what counts, right? I certainly hope so.