writing

Sometimes, I write things I can't quite grasp. I think, "One day I'll see what others see in this". I reassure myself it is not intellectual defect, or emotional blindness that makes them see brilliance in my self-perceived mediocrity.

Rather it is timing, my timing. Maybe the writing comes before the understanding, as the action comes before the memory, and the memory sparks the memoir. I may hate what I write today, and cherish it tomorrow.

stormy weather

Do you ever have a wish you could eject yourself from society for a spell?

This past week hurricane Kira ripped through my life. Things are spinning back to normal and I'm left to deal with the wreckage of my own poor behavior. The wind blows some torn paper from the resumes I've re-written, sign in sheets from the 5, 10, 20 minute late mornings. I pencil in apologies between return black dress, and get shoes fixed. And hope to have the energy to right what is askew.

Can you give me a sec? I'm on the phone here..

Two Truths and a Lie

Ever heard of this game? It's one of those rinky dink icebreakers. Despite the air of forced socialization, I adore this game. Fact is, I love information. I guess it comes from feeling I never got the full story as a kid. I learned to peek in drawers and ask inappropriate questions. I'd do anything to feel like I had a better grip on the situation. I had no borders or boundaries, no respect for your privacy. I was blessed (?) with roaring curiosity and an innate ability to put things back where I found them.

Today I still the hand that reaches to invade the space of another, but the voracious appetite for dirt remains. Catch my interest and I will collect the bits of yourself that you drop like bread crumbs. Saving it all up for the day I might be hungry. Folding all the facts into the folds of my mind for safekeeping.

So is it any surprise that I like this game? I like that participants must make the facts interesting so to disguise the lie. I like combing my background for bits of funky, sea glass, memory that might distract you from my falsehood. I like knowing more.

Here are the two truths and a lie that I gave today. Please forgive me as they were thought up on the fly. Can you tell which is veritas and mendacium?

I modeled when I was a baby.

I learned to ride a bike when I was 7.

My kindergarten life plan was to become a prima ballerina, marry and have kids, then become a nun after my husband passed away.

Wiggle it, just a little bit...

Thank GOD that they've figured this out.


(Just for the record I'd have to lose 2 inches off my waist to have perfect wiggle.)

walking

I have heard:

First you get out of the hole.

Then when walking down the block with the hole, you try and not fall in.

After awhile you choose another block.

I hate realizing that I haven't chosen another block. I find myself at the bottom of the same hole. Only it's a little shallower this time. I've sustained a few less bruises. My cries for help are quickly answered. No one looks at me and says "You did it, again?". They help me brush the dirt off, and wrap an ace bandage around my ankle. Someone brought neosporin, another has a cartoon bandaid in her purse. I am cared for and fixed up, then a new block is pointed out to me.