Archive for October, 2008

Funk Defied

Posted on October 27, 2008

Off With Her Head?

Off With Her Head?

The Girl has been in a major funk as of late. And in a state of open defiance surrounding it.

This is a totally unfamiliar realm of sadness.

While Water people are notoriously temperamental, it usually takes a solid squall or definable REASON to set the white caps in motion. But this feeling isn’t the result of a lovers quarrel or sub-par wardrobe, it’s deeper and gnarlier and darker and life-blood sucking. Reminds me of June through August of 1998 which is commonly referred to (mostly by me) as the “Summer of Discontent.” At least then, I was 18. At 18, a diet of Radiohead and coffee punctuated with an all black wardrobe is acceptable. Today, it’s a little bizarre-o.

I don’t sleep. I take too much Ambien. I drink too much caffeine and spend too much time pontificating on the next big thing. Then I buy stuff online.

I have to wake the funk up and reality check this beast. Right now he is mauling my ass and I have to figure out how to poke him the eye and run the other way before he rises up and bites my head off. Tis best for a Water girl to keep her head. After all, it’s one of the most buoyant parts of the body.

‘Your hair wants cutting,’ said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.

‘You should learn not to make personal remarks,’ Alice said with some severity; ‘it’s very rude.’

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It’s Hard to Grow Roots in the Water

Posted on October 20, 2008

Children of the Water learn early that survival is largely dependent upon their ability to flow with the current. Progressive Parents of the Water are often loathe to teach this particular tenant to their young, as it can often result in frivolous treatment of non-Water people, inability to fit into non-Water society, and loneliness… both in and out of the Water.

Still, this is an innate truth of Water life which must be adhered to.

The Girl of the Water is a prime example of the dual forces of power and detriment caused by this most controversial Water law.

The Water Wedding was approximately 13 months ago and the total number of Water friends whom are still in the Water world stands at about 10. Of about 90. Family excluded, of course. The Spouse of the Water seems to be similar to the Girl in that way. We fear the responsibility involved with non-Water friends, and seem to paddle nearest to those who catch the same wave we are riding.

The shore always seems far and we like to keep our school lean. The flotsam and jetsam attract unwanted attention and the predators never seem to be far behind.

So we learn as Water Babies that if we want to become fully grown Water beings, we must be willing to swim far from the familiar and into safer territory as soon as the wind shifts.

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More Droplets of Happiness

Posted on October 16, 2008

That's the Goodness

That's the Goodness

Coffee on the terrace, coffee on the lanai, coffee in a house with a mouse, coconut scented lotion, saying what I mean, dark wood mixed with the smell of sautéed fish, oversized sunglasses, black cars driven by men in old school chauffeur caps, models carrying portfolios, gossipy gay men, gossipy girls from foreign countries, big collared coats, hair braids, water towers, rainy days as viewed from our boat, The “Ocean’s” Movies, Long Cons, castles, beach huts, thatched roofs, 3 day work weeks, 0 day work weeks, POG juice, brunch

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What’s With All the STUFF, Hilo Hattie?

Posted on October 13, 2008

Distraction is key.

When I couldn’t buy one more flip flop or bikini in preparation for our Hawaii trip, we decided to move. When we decided to move, the new place necessitated paint. And preparation. And faux antiquities. And when even I couldn’t stomach spending one more dollar on a mosaic mirror or clay red dishes, we left for the afore mentioned Hawaii trip. And we wore our flip-flops and bikinis and returned to the mainland to settle into our, um…stuff.

But as I said, distraction is key and my seemingly endless supply is running short.

The stuff isn’t helping anymore and I’ve noticed that which I could ignore before, is now splashing against my consciousness as the waves do the rocks. Constant. Unrelenting. Eroding all that I’d come to pretend I valued.

Spouse of the Water believes that the rebel soul can only be contained for so long before it rebels against its container. I believe he may be correct and I’m strangely grateful. My soul had been distracted by stuff. Tres Hilo Hattie.

Hawaiian performer, Clarissa Haili became known as Hilo Hattie after popularizing the song “When Hilo Hattie Does the Hula Hop”. She enjoyed fame and it’s trappings but apparently never lost her Aloha Spirit. Never forgot who she was and where she came from. She even lent her name to a “souvenir” shop of sorts, which boasts the largest selection of Aloha Shirts and Made In Hawaii fashion, gifts, shotgalsses and muumuu’s anywhere. Oddly, the only “thing” we bought from a Hilo Hattie store was directions. Funny how I didn’t crave stuff or distraction in Hawaii.

I wonder if Ms. Hattie would be happy with the way her store has been developed and her memory altered. After all, she died in 1979. And a lot can happen in 29 years. I should know.

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Little Miss Bossy, Meet Little Miss Helpful

Posted on October 7, 2008

I have a completely visceral love for the “Little Miss and Mr. Men” books. I was once the proud owner of the entire series, and had a special fondness for Little Miss Helpful and Little Miss Scatterbrain. Over time and multiple address changes, like most loves from childhood, my prized collection was dispersed in various basements or charity bound boxes and eventually exited my world and mind. And then 2005 rolls around Paris Hilton landed on the cover of In Touch with Little Miss Spoiled emblazoned on her chest and all hell broke loose. Little Miss Naughty! Little Miss Christmas! Little-Miss-you-are-warping-my-childhood-memories-into-tawdry-trash-sold-for-36-dollars-at-Urban-Freakin-Outfitters!

Still, the actual books hold a special place in my soul. Thus, when I saw them near the checkout at Barnes and Noble a couple of Christmases ago, I jumped at the chance to expose Spouse of the Water to my lost childhood love. I’d practically skipped down 5th Avenue, once again in proud possession of Mr. Tall (for him) and Little Miss Helpful (for me). He thought they were cute, especially when I told him that my favorite part of Little Miss Helpful was when she ties Mr. Tall’s shoes together and he falls down and gets hurt (because when you’re as tall as Mr. Tall, it’s a long way down). She feels horrid. She was only trying to help.

Today, I am still Little Miss Helpful.  But sometimes another Little Miss creeps into my being…Little Miss Bossy. She likes it her way and though I try to be “open” in general, there are simply a few things I like the way I like ‘em. Is that so awful?

So this evening, the Spouse and I try to talk politics. Bad move. “More Government” he says “WHAT?” I shriek, “You’re kidding” Spouse: “I have told you this million times” Me: “Really? Cus THIS is not the reaction of someone who has been told something a million times” Spouse:”No, this is the reaction of a crazy person!” “Besides, the government caused 9/11…” (Ok, so why oh why would you want THEM in Totalitarian control? Just Asking). I felt like he’d punched me in the gut.

Whatever… all a moot point now. I remember why I never, never, never talk politics. Sigh. So, with no positive end of this disagreement in sight, Little Miss Helpful and Mr. Tall let their alter-ego’s Little Miss Bossy and Mr. Stubborn duke it out in the center ring, while they chill in the corner wondering if Little Miss Canada and Mr. Sweden know more than they are typically given credit for…

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Bride of the Water, Bride of the City

Posted on October 4, 2008

Flash of the City. Peace of the Water.

Flash of the City. Peace of the Water.

At 1pm yesterday, I am back in my element. I breathe in the smells of magic and love and take in so much lace and silk taffeta that my head starts buzzing slightly. There is one particularly fluffy dress in the corner, that totally reminds me of a white, lemon meringue pie, and I wonder if they’d get mad if I took a running start and dove right in.

I suddenly feel like a recovering addict, walking through a dodgy neighborhood, where you just know you could cop on every corner, but you won’t. You mustn’t. It’s just not you anymore. Alas, I am back in the land of the wedding gown, but it is not about me.

The Bride-to-be of the City enters and we hug and I am then allowed to enter the familiar racks. The silky threads pour through my fingers as I revel in the possibilities. I am transported to a time nearly two years earlier when I went through the same process, but with the added excitement of knowing that this would be THE DRESS. Arguably the most expensive single use item I would ever purchase. As Bride of the City starts to speak, I hear myself in the words she speaks to the exuberant sales associate. “Not overdone, not too many beads or too much lace. Sweetheart neckline, because my boobs will look great in that (ok, that last part was not a phrase ever uttered by Bride of the Water).” She knows what she wants, and she is ready with a photo to prove it.

The three of us pull seven gowns and the Bride of the City begins to feel slightly overwhelmed. “I’d like to start with these”. We help her into the first and the reaction is unanimous. This is it. She perfunctorily tries the other gowns, just so she can say she did, but there is never any doubt. Gown number one wins.

She looks beautiful, and the gown itself perfectly tells the story of the girl beaming inside of it. It is less classic than she thought she desired with a ton more glamour. The bodice accents her shape and the floor length veil adds the tradition she sought.

I dab my eyes because she looks so… her. But in a wedding gown. I think back to the costume I had selected. I shunned a veil and embraced an ostrich feather flower hairpiece. I went for smoky eyes and calla lilies. I believe she’ll shun nothing and embrace it all. I chose simplicity to reflect the change in my life which (for once) felt peaceful, and free, and not complicated. I’d tried to be as the water would want… easy, flowing, natural.

But looking at my ultra-glam City-bride friend, I wonder if I’d not done all I could’ve with my day…

And then it hits me that my wedding was innately, well… me. It was an anomaly of sparse white space and deep red, orange and brown colored silk and textured fabrics. It was simple and complex. It was breathtaking and life affirming. Groomsmen in gold sneakers and t-shirts bearing a tree. Bridesmaids in dresses of their own choice. Classic yet nuanced.

Water people and City people survive in similar discord. The Water seems to flow under the radar when surrounded by the flashiness of the City. But without the Water to temper it’s innate harshness, the City easily turns dark and unwelcoming.

I mentally return to my post as proud Bride of the Water. I must. It’s just who I am.

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Droplets Of Happiness

Posted on October 3, 2008

The Girl was feeling sad a few months back, and decided to turn that sadness into positive thoughts. I carried notebooks and each time I felt blue, I’d add a few more droplets of happiness to my list. Turns out, I wasn’t as despondent as I’d feared. I simply wasn’t focusing right.

These took me months to compile, so I’ll drop them in here and there. Please tell me about your droplets of happiness in a comment. I really want to know… Now, without further adieu, I present The Girl’s Droplets of Happiness…(in no particular order)

Sushi, Disneyland, fluffy cotton-y clouds, silly photos, apple cake, the Secret, God, “Getting” a new skill, baseball games on a NY Spring evening, stuffing at Thanksgiving (yum!), 70’s Style Homes in the Hollywood Hills, Vintage Mercedes Benz, Hawaii with the Spouse, making up songs about seaweed, and hoagies, and pizza… all Hawaiian style. A conversation with my mom that makes her laugh. Like, really laugh. Jeep Wranglers, classic rock, mafia movies, sidewalk cafe’s in April, May, and June, Loft spaces, Lake George, oversized “luxe” shiny society magazines, the smell of the fire place, THOSE nights… you know to which I refer, innocence in a child’s eyes, belly laughs, kelly green Clothing, guacamole, making strangers happy, clever TV writing, the smell of the leather in a Mercedes Benz (new or old).

That’s all you get for now. Now comment me and tell me some things you like to be happy about… I want to borrow them. You can borrow mine too, It’s easy here in water…we’re chill.


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Wrong is Wrong but Wronger is Wrongest

Posted on October 1, 2008

RECAP: In Friday’s episode of “Family Drama Though Not Totally a Surprise, Can Still Be Shocking and Sad”, the Child Bride who married the brother-in-law of the Water, packed up and moved out, leaving only a note, as the brother-in-law toiled away with test tubes and Human Growth Hormones in a laboratory somewhere across campus.

In tonight’s episode, we observe the Girl and Spouse of the Water, as they converse and continue to digest the recent familial upset. We join this conversation already in progress.

(Sounds of Wax Tailor’s “Where My Heart’s At” drift from the loft above as The Girl, lost in thought, cleans the remnants of dinner)

Girl: Do you think he meant it when he asked if we thought she was cheating? Did he really think that, or was he just sad and surprised?

Spouse: (with a slight edge in his voice) Well, if I came home one day and you were gone, along with half of absolutely everything, I would have that thought.

She pauses then… carefully

Girl: Maybe, when we speak of this, we could be careful not to personalize. It feels really horrid when you even put the energy of those things out into the universe and relate them to us. Also, I know he’s your brother, and I know the situation makes it really easy to totally blame her, but I just think that the gray area is larger than we’re aware of. (She sneaks a glance up toward the loft to gauge his reaction to this. She is aware that her one semester of psychology and subsequent need to use the terms “It feels…” and “gray area” could be slightly irritating, at times)

Spouse: Sometimes it just feels like you want me to blame him. Like you’re on her side or something.

Girl: Actually, I’m not. I don’t really even care all that much, I’m just curious. And, I think that it may be hard for you to accept that your brother, whom you lived in a bubble with for 18 years, could be anything other than exactly what he says he is… completely loving and supportive husband and 100 percent surprised victim of cruel, young girl. I just don’t think it’s that black and white…

Spouse: In the end, she was more wrong. Whatever he did, whatever happened prior to the moment she wrote that note and walked out on him, doesn’t matter. If he was wrong, she was more wrong, and for that reason, all sympathy or feelings of respect I may have had for her, are gone.

(The Girl inhales sharply as she remembers a time, years earlier, when she’d made almost that exact speech about herself. Her ex-boyfriend found out that she had cheated on him by reading her journal. He was, of course, wrong to invade her privacy. But she was more wrong for sleeping with someone else.)
Girl: solid point

Spouse: Besides, who “leaves” someone??? Do people really do that?! This isn’t the 80’s! I mean, have you ever know someone who actually “left” someone?

(She laughs in spite of herself, and he looks slightly embarrassed)

Spouse: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I guess, I just wasn’t thinking about that.

Girl: I love you and despite my being smuggled on airplanes deep into the blackest parts of the night (she says conspiratorially) parents cannot be accounted for because THAT was the 80’s and yes, lots of people left lots of others in the 80’s. It was hot and dramatic then. Sadly, this chick is 20 years past it being cool, so… the road back to the Water family may be long…

(Pigeon Jon now flows from the rafters and we giggle. I giggle. He laughs in a lighthearted, manly sort of way.)

We end this evening confident that the Girl is happy in her knowledge even being kidnapped by your mother as a child, can be forgiven if your Spouse can make you laugh at it all.

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