Thursday, May 30, 2013

A Better Bowl

You know those all too long moments: the moments of standing in the checkout line with the woman and her four kids all wearing fake teeth racing around you, getting directions to go get the better bowl on the shelf all the way in the back of the store, the moments of the creeper so close behind you in line his trucker hat bumps into you and all the while your coffee has just kicked into high gear and since chemo you can't tell the difference between a shit or a fart so the sooner you check out the better it is for the whole store?

Then, quietly the checker asks "is it okay if I put the tater-tots in with the toilet paper?"  I just pause from all of my contrition/hope to not poop my pants faces long enough to say.  "Oh no, its just fine."

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Rabbit Eared

Pickle doesn't kiss me. Peanut will just hop by and lick my leg, my arm and even an occasional toe. Last night he was climbing me while I TRIED to sleep and he sat on my right hip, up in the air while I pet him. He kissed my hand and fingers as a thank you over and over. Pickle doesn't kiss. He nudges, bonks, rubs, climbs and follows me everywhere, but my dream of an "I Love You" kiss is still a dream.

Tonight, Pickle climbed up my back while I was lying on the floor giving him his playtime rubs, and then he stuck his nose in my ear and licked it. A rabbit with a thing for ears. Who knew?

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Have a Bite

There have been a lot of memes going around lately mocking the obsession with people posting pics of their food. I simultaneously get the joke and am guilty of trying to capture that moment of yummy. I think the desire to share a pic of your dinner on any one of the social networks you use is just as clear as the desire to share a bite of that dinner with the person sitting with you at the kitchen table, on the couch or in the fanciest restaurant of your life. The point is you want to share what you love, what brings you so much joy you just wish everyone you know could have a bite of it. That includes your sandwich.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Boxed Set

I never like myself as much as when I am looking through my boxes of memorabilia. People talk about their life flashing before their eyes, well I have my childhood right there in my hands. The sense memory of a time, the times we really want to remember. I get to hold onto people even if they aren't in my life anymore, by their choice or nature's choice. Lifting the lid is the backwards motion of closing my eyes and rummaging through time, my time. The bag of marbles that I won off all the boys at recess, my ballet slippers and tap shoes, my first pair of ear rings that Todd ripped out of my ear so that I had to get my ears pierced again, the gold medal from my Dorothy Hamill doll, and my first diary still locked.

The jewelry box holds a turtle pendant that used to have solid perfume in it and was one of the first presents a boy every gave me, tiny red rocks from my visit to the old Hansen Planetarium that I used to think were more precious than gold, and one of my most favorites, teeny tiny books that I made for my barbies that I bound and illustrated in color.

There are funny things like the empty Pepsi can with Michael Jackson's signature on it (this was right around the time he caught his hair on fire) and my Madonna lace gloves. Then, there is the bright red plastic Hello Kitty notebook with a note inside that says in pencil "love you forever, Stephie" that knocks the wind out of me, reminding me how impermanent it all is.

I am making my newer/later versions of memorabilia boxes. They are my bookshelves. They are my blog. They are my family. They are my friends. Whenever I open one up, I like myself a little more.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

It isn't so charming

Heidi's Charm School Rules

1. Don't be stupid.
(you would presume this would make nothing else needed for the list, but let me continue)
2. Don't spit.
(personally I feel there should be a heavy heavy fine for spitting in public, say a limb, or your life)
3. Don't scream at your kids across the parking lot.
4. Don't park your kitchen chair in front of my door and whittle wood, then leave your mess of shavings for me to clean up.
5. Don't be surprised when you try to park your hide and whittle again I give you the "If you could type this out it would say how F$%king stupid are you and don't come near my door again" look.
6. Don't spit.
7. Don't be a Clumpy Cougher.
8. Don't clang, scream or smoke right in front of my door.
9. Don't think the stairwell is the playground.
10. Don't think I can't train Peanut to sick on command.

Friday, May 3, 2013

More Please

A small list of happy today:

Grown women giggling at the dollar store while buying hula-hoops.
Kids walking home from school and having sprinklers block the sidewalk but they run through them anyway.
My Mom leaving me TWO messages on my phone in the short time I was away.
The Chinese Crested puppy playing with the Great Dane at PetSmart.
My Bunnies.
Les Miserables at Pioneer Theater with my Best-Mom tomorrow.
The gorgeous weather.
My Bunnies.
My life.

The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.