niyasisk

Sentence Envy

Tom Robbins, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues. 

First of all. Thumb envy? No.
Not having the opportunity to be a brain surgeon because my thumbs are too large... Or the idea of having the freedom of bowling ball size thumbs that gets me hitched into the car of the next driver who may or may not value my life as much as I do? 
Nah.

But to tangle up sentences into brain candy about a girl with huge thumbs that keeps my thumbs (pun intended) doing the good work of page turning...well I'm all over that.

"She twirled her thumbs like the hula hips of heaven" he says.

Re-reading this book has caused me some stress. Not the story, or the read. But enjoying it so much. And the achy thought, what authors are having this much fun today? Practicing their talent hard! Serving up sentences up from your feet, that circles your heart a few times and then plunks smack into the middle of the wild brain? So much reading pleasure you can hardly stand it. 

Where are those authors today? 

On NPR the other day there was an interview with a man (who's name I didn't catch) who said people are flinging content around like coins in a slot machine. Hoping to capture fame. But nobody knows what fame is anymore. 

My ambitions in writing are to treat words like a really yummy chocolate desert. Words are beautiful to me. And when they twirl around the axis of two large thumbs that plummets me into adventures I've never thought of...I'm over the moon. 

I hope we never loose these writers or the relevancy of the untethered imagination that a simple sentence can bring.

Life Long Friends, Rabbits, Silk

Well, how do you think I fell in love with rabbits in the first place? 

Susan Flint--Susan from India-- and I lived down the street from one another in Northern Ca. when we were 'wee' girls... ahem, about 8 and 9 years old. I won't mention how many decades ago... for both our sake. We were boy crazy, wild, little country girls...girl rogues on the make. I had my rabbits and she, her goats, cats, chickens. I remember spending the night at the Flint's house many times. In the morning when it was super cold, Susan, her sister Dana and I would race to the bathtub and fill it with warm water. Susan's mother, Sandra taught me I didn't need conditioner for my hair because it had natural oils.

There was a lot of 'natural' stuff going on in those days. The conditioner lesson only lasted a week. Susan and I were into high fashion, but it had to be 'our' way. The photos above were taken some years back in our late 20's when I created a line of silk painted clothing. She was my model. Isn't she pretty? You bet she is. She stole my boyfriend's hearts and I don't blame them a bit!

Susan has been writing, painting and giving to the good people of India. I may come visit her soon and stay a month. Wouldn't that be amazing! I can't take the rabbits though.

This is Susan's first watercolor. And, its just like her to risk, try something new and then then give it away. If you want to go on a wonderful journey; read a great story, just check out her blog.

By the way, yes, yes, I know...the hair, the hair...so 80's in this photo. But I did have cool earrings!

• • •

Dakota says my hair looks better now because he's chewed some of it off to his taste!

Laugh!

There is this woman at the pool where I swim who pretends to talk on the phone in the shower. The women smile to themselves, like they understand this because she has Downs Syndrome. One day, a woman resembling Aunt Jemima said, “Get off the phone, you’ll get electrocuted.” The woman said, “Okay, but I just have to finish this call, the baby sitter doesn’t know how to do this…” Aunt Jemima and I smiled at one another.

Later as we were all getting dressed, the woman put her invisible phone aside and yelled to anyone who would answer “This is my phone, I’m getting a better one tomorrow, this is my phone.” The woman next to me said, “I ain’t got no beef with you girl, phone away.” Everyone laughed; the woman with the phone and the others but…especially me.

It occurred to me I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. Not because something has been horribly wrong but maybe because in long gray winters, laughter is like a hammer to a tightly wound rose bud trying to get it to bloom. In a long gray winter, laughter, when it comes can be addictive, a little sonic boom of the soul, a little reminder that work, books, good movies, passive voyeurism, the restorative habitations of winter will pass.

I learned last night from my friend Tanya that light accumulates in spurts and this week we get 20 minutes. How great is that? Especially in Portland Oregon.

That’s all I have today. Just wanted everyone to know, I’m still here; I have a pulse.

Oh, and something else, I bought some new shoes and socks to go with them. They are very girly shoes. I’m a boot person, but I’m trying. I wore them last night to a poetry reading. They were noticed by one of the poets. But he couldn't help it. I looked like some Scottish twinkle-toed dancer. All socks and dainty little shoes. I felt kind of silly. But social experiements are important. And, as an ex-tomboy, I just can’t get the manicure thing down.

Oh yeah, and I just took a new job. The offices open tomorrow on the Columbia River in Vancouver Wa. It’s a pretty stunning view. Not sure how I’ll get any work done. I’ll be thinking of those ducks down there that need food. I’ll be thinking of the Kayak I want for lunchtime adventures (not eating and rowing at the same time J). Anyway, it promises to be a cool job…I think my title is Sr. Interaction Designer.

Today is Valentines Day. Dakota (the rabbit) seems to be in love with Kayla the new girl. I'm not laughing, I’m a little jealous.

How getting a Pedicure is like going to the Dentist.

I know what you’re thinking. Are you completely mad? Pedicures are lovely. Well, not when you have toe issues like me.

I have two ugly pinky toes that I stubbed when I was 5 years old--see photo above. I heard about this salon where the women do it right, it will hurt, it will be cheap and last longer. I figured they'd get rid of that dark gray look on my toenail that looks like a baby tick. I hoped it was better than surgically removing the toenail. And afterward they could just glob on some orange or red paint.

• I haven’t been to the Dentist in 5 years.
• I haven’t had a Pedicure in 5 years.

• On speaking different languages: When I did go to the dentist I repeated myself several times (often while the dental dam was in my mouth) before he understood that I said, “No do not give me another shot, kill me with Nitrous, first.” Or, “No, don’t fill that cavity with silver, its ugly.” “No, I will not take large doses of Vitamin C to calm me down while you drill the root canal.”

• On speaking different languages: Trying to explain that my nails were too short for a French manicure was the same. Especially since I was there for some cheap toe surgery. “Frens…five dolla’ mo’.” “No, pedicure.” I said. “Frens Pedicure, thirty pus five dolla xtra.” “No, color is fine, no French anything! Really!” I said.

• The dentist shoved laughing gas in my face.
• The Salon lady shoved my feet in a vat of bubbling cold water while putting my hands in a small bowl of water (I guess I’m getting a manicure too). She, like he used nodding as code for this foot and that hand. He did code as well to get my mouth to open really wide while he sprayed, grinded and made jokes with his assistant -- the Bee Gee’s played in the background.

• He drilled holes in my mouth.
• She turned on this electric massage chair that was like riding a Bucking Bronco from behind.

• After an hour or two of torture, he polished the good teeth left over with whitening fluid.
• After 40 minutes of torture, she polished my pearly white toes with dark orange paint. Both solvents stink.

• He was proud and didn’t care that I would be reckless on the road after. Dental patients shouldn’t drive after torture. Doesn’t he know that?
• She was very proud. My little pinky toes were grinded to yellow vs. the gross things they were before.

• I paid for extra services I didn’t expect. The dental cleaning for instance. Not that I didn’t need it.
• I had dark orange fingernails by the end of the Pedicure adventure and they are hideous. I can barely type right now because the red is so distracting. It’s like the Fourth of July, little fireworks at the end of my fingernails.

I do like my new toes though. See, they look kind of like this...