Friday, September 15, 2006
My Pink Skirt Has Been A Real Princess Ever Since I Took Her To Paris and Other Thoughts
This is what I said when I woke-up today,
"Hey pssst Dog! Big news! I am happy this morning!"
And Dog, who was surprised and relieved because it's been so long since those words exited my mouth said,
And then I turned over and started thinking about life.
Do you ever do that?
Just burrow up in your covers and think about things?
I thought about last night's rendezvous with Page and Lucy at the $ Theater. They both had hoodies--which they utilized when leaning their head against the seats--because everyone knows that you can get (and probably will get) lice when you go to the $ Theater. We watched Nacho Libre. The three of us slap our knees when we think something is deeply humorous. Slap our knees? Where did that come from?
I thought about how busy I've been lately. So busy that the chair in my office/dressing room now resembles a large Australian (that's for you, Steve) bush. With no time to hang up my skirts or fold my shirts, the chair has become that easy "I'll get to that later" rest stop. Where did my black skirt go? Aha! Checking the blooming bush...and found. I lost my black bra for a couple days, until the bush yielded up it's ripe underwires. Victoria's Secret no longer. One day I will have time to prune and reaquaint my delicate underside with the poofy green striped chair cushion, which at this point hasn't seen the dawn's early light since the beginning of Septembre.
I thought about how Chup has been getting the short end of my patience lately. Poor Chupa! I've been a real disaster in the kindness arena. A failure at forgiveness. A dumpster full of doom. I'd like to blame it on something (the rain? Vanilli that is for you.) Last night he drove to 12 different locations to track down one of those devilicious chocolate-on-chocolate donuts for the mestar. (Page used to come all the way from San Francisco for one of those delights--mostly found waiting for you at your local Chevron--hot topic.) We sat on the couch together while I ate my donut, watching reruns of The Office. Chup loves the excitement I am sure.
I thought about Lucy and Ric. Stephanie abouting to deliver any time. S Hod who I haven't seen in months. My bro Steve getting ready for the Boston College game. How much I dig Parker Posey. A busy weekend. The ward luau. The dress I wore to the Homecoming dance as a junior in high school. Leaving my job. Kentucky's cancer. The hours I've spent ignoring my dogs this week. Eating disorders. Octoberfest.
I visualized my to-do list, which I am now calling my opportunities list, because why not make it sound a little more adventurous? I have the opportunity to finish my essay for Kathy's book, re-work my toenail paint crisis, mentally prepare for having sushi tonight with Wendy, Travis, Jesse and Lindsay (it's a spiritual situation mind you) and clean my room.
Part of me is going to miss that bush. But even now I can hear my pink skirt screaming at me, though muffled, from beneath weeks of daily wardrobe changes,
"I'm suffocating! Can't you see? I'm going to diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!"
And we certainly can't have that.