The Pendennis Observer: Dispatch No. 382

posted in: Day In The Life, Paean, Pendennis 2
Pendennis as pretzel.
Up to no good, as usual. 

I’ve been traveling so much lately — home in DC this evening after a full week in Chicago — chances are good there are new readers to PaperGirl. I encourage people I meet at events or classes to visit and read this blog, but I still see fear in their hearts when I tell them PaperGirl isn’t about one thing but “just sort of about my life.” A gluten-free baking tutorial blog is an easier sell but what can I do? Surely some people were curious enough to visit and it seems like a good opportunity to take a moment and explain the monkey. I haven’t posted a picture of or given an update on Pendennis in some time; let’s get everyone caught up.

Some adults have an ironic connection to a childhood toy or a juvenile object and it can be cute or it can be weird. Either way, these peoples’ friends are actually happy when there’s a “thing” because it makes that person really easy to shop for. “I have no idea what to get Nancy for Christmas” is not a sentence Nancy’s friends will ever have to say because Nancy likes deer.

I don’t have a “thing” for sock monkeys; I have a thing for my sock monkey. His name is Pendennis and no, I do not sleep with him or cry hot, hot tears into his soft body. He does not come on trips with me. I haven’t had him since I was three and I do not suck on his tail. My high school art teacher made him for me when I was her teacher’s aide and Pendennis has simply been with me ever since, not because I need a stuffed animal to cope with life* but because I love him. My love is akin to the love I have for a special painting or a treasured photograph, except that I can cry hot, hot tears into his soft body. I love the monkey like I love my favorite sweater or my favorite snack. He is a comfort and we all need more of that. He went to New York. He came to DC. He’s my little guy.

But fondness springs eternal for Pendennis not just because he’s familiar: Pendennis is hilarious. I laugh out loud when I see him poking out from under a chair or twisted up like a pretzel under a pillow (see above.) I’ve been Pendennis’s personal photographer for years because I have to try and capture the joy he brings to me when I discover him in his natural habitat. This way, when I’m old and Pendennis has been chewed up by a cat, I can look at the pictures on my hologram phone and feel happy again. What’s crucial for readers to know is that I never, ever pose Pendennis. When I take a picture of him, you can be sure I am shooting what I discovered, not anything I created. The monkey needs no stylist, no art director; I simply point and shoot.

That’s the scoop on the PaperGirl mascot. And I’m glad you’re here.

*Untrue, but it sounded good up there. Also, you really need to see the stitched “Pocket Pendennis” made for me by the gorgeous and talented Margaret. Margaret, I’m looking at the PP as I type this.

The Pendennis Observer: Dispatch!

posted in: Pendennis 1

Remember: Pendennis is never posed, ever. These are candid shots of my monkey found as he was — and ever is. Check the “Pendennis Observer” category here in the archives for more.

That's my bed. That's my journal. And that for damn sure is my monkey.
That’s my bed. That’s my journal. And that for damn sure is my monkey.
The New York apartment. East Village. Not a great couch.
The New York apartment. East Village. Not a great couch.
It's either insomnia, afterglow, or dread. I love Pendennis precisely because we can never know.
It’s either insomnia, afterglow, or dread. I love Pendennis precisely because we can never know.

 

 

 

 

The Pendennis Observer, January 29th, 2014.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The Pendennis Observer. If you’re not gotten The Pendennis Observer before, please find all the details you’ll need right here.

We’re happy to report that the PaperGirl has arrived safely in New York and that she has had all her shots. Dispatches begin tomorrow. Pendennis is with her now.

We wish you a pleasant evening.

– The Management

 

Remember: never posed. Ever. The monkey comes by these situations naturally.
Remember: never posed. Ever. The monkey comes by these situations naturally.

 

Saturday night face plant.
Saturday night face plant.
Pendennis and my mom's dog, Scrabble, cuddling during an early morning blizzard. Door County, 2013.
Pendennis and my mom’s dog, Scrabble, cuddling during an early morning blizzard. Door County, 2013.
Too much Heidegger too quickly.
Too much Heidegger too quickly.

The Pendennis Observer: Dispatch!

It’s time for a dispatch from everyone’s favorite fake, one-topic photo journal, The Pendennis Observer. If you missed the mission of The Pendennis Observer or would like a refresher before you see pictures of my sock monkey, please visit the first post here.

Of course, if your clicker is tired, you don’t have to go anywhere. All you need to know is that Pendennis is my monkey, I’m too old to still have him “in play” in my home/bed, I love him, and I never, ever pose him. I leave the monkey where he lay and I frequently take his picture because he is exquisite. A little funny, a little tragic, Pendennis and his gestures are life itself.

A few recent discoveries:

IMG_2311
“Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark/That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.”
IMG_2086
High kick.
Existential crisis.
Another Tuesday morning, another existential crisis.