My Uncle Used to Love Me But She Died-- Roger Miller

He got excited, "If I had a camouflage tie, I'd be the coolest guy. Everyone would want to be me."

My sister and I stared at him emotionless. His comment deserved no recognition.

*

I pulled the paint brush out of the water and wiped it on a paper towel. The brush left red streaks on the white. I did it again. And again. Always red streaks. That's when I realized the water was red.

*

"I stubbed my toe," my youngest brother said. He had a cloth wristband wrapped around the injury to protect the appendage from further damage.

Trying to one-up the youngest, the other brother said, "I have a splinter in my hand."

"I glued my fingers together with super glue." That's what I said.

*

You know you're a perfectionist when you clean the inside walls of your sink disposal. For your information, I have never done such a thing.

*

When the dentist cleans my teeth tomorrow, I'm going to be really nice and open my mouth really wide. I won't bite his fingers. Dentists need love and I love the dentist.

*

The chipped paint on my big toenail resembles Idaho.

*

I kind of miss her. She left and took her babies with her. The raccoon momma who lived in my fireplace for two months is gone. No more strange mating noises in the middle of the night. The silence is ominous.

*

Confession: Once, I was involved in two car wrecks in one night. The night was two and a half years ago. I can laugh about it now.

*

My drawings of still-life teapots look like ferocious hyenas with egg yolk dripping down their snouts. Do you know what kind of talent that takes?

*

When I go flying in airplanes, which I do sometimes, I want to jump out. With a parachute.

*

My favorite pajama pants are plaid and good-quality flannel. I might have gotten them for Christmas three years ago. Each wash has made them softer.

*

"Eat these," I commanded as I threw a bag of sour patch watermelons onto the table. "Now."

They started eating them immediately and suddenly I was sad that I surround myself with obedient people. I kind of wanted those sour watermelons.

*

I stared at the sketchbooks. A black big one, a black little one, a brown big one, a brown little one. An organic one with pure recycled paper and a circle of arrows commanding its prospective owner to be a good citizen.

*

I have it timed perfectly. His hand touches my knee and-- one-mississippi, two-mississippi, WA-BAM-- good feelings from the arches of my feet, through my twittery stomach and my racing fist-sized organ, to the goosebumps on the top of my head. Every. Single. Time.

*

Them: I'll bet you're excited.

Me: I can hardly wait.

Them: It sounds like a dream.

Me: It will be a dream. An impractical dream where I pay all my money to lie on the beach reading Omeros and painting the blue ocean. But a good dream nonetheless.

Them: When do you leave?

Me: Friday

*

If you only pay one penny for a book, I'll bet the book smells really wonderful. Buy one-cent books here. Your nose will be happy for the rest of its life.

Thunder

The windows of the library just rattled. I can see the sky if I look outside. I only see gray. When the windows rattled, I smiled. I love thunder.

I want to be outside in the thunder. Outside where the sky is gray and the wind is slowly picking up.

I think it is going to rain soon. I'm praying for a big storm. The kind that sends a flash flood down the gutter in my front yard. The kind that requires boat races and red rain boots and dance parties. Rain dance parties.

And when the storm comes, I'm going to leave the library.

This post is about clothes.

This post does not have much text. This post requires one link.

This post says everything about what I would like to wear to work this summer.

J. Crew Lookbook
I love the colors. I love the belts. I love the wide-brimmed yellow hat.
Oh, and the dress with the rosettes.

And I can't afford any of it. And I feel just fine about that.

In Celebration of Patience

My wireless internet has been broken. BUT IT'S NOT BROKEN ANYMORE! This is a very big deal. (I feel like I need to say that, just in case you didn't catch the all-caps.) I'm currently typing while lying on my stomach in my living room. Do you know what a good feeling that is?

In celebration, I've decided to post pictures from my laptop. Do not look for a theme or reasoning behind these photos. There is none. It's just that pictures were difficult to post without wireless access. It would've required a USB drive; in other words, it would have required patience. And you all know how good I am at being patient. And if you didn't know anything about my ability to be patient. Now you do. I'm not patient. But, I'm working on it. And waiting for these pictures to upload was a step in that process.

Enjoy.


Picture 1: On the coast of Newport, Rhode Island. From this trip.

Picture 2: In the Old North Church in Boston. From the same trip.


Picture 3: Poppies in my front yard. Poppies are my favorite flower.

Picture 4: Sidewalk chalk and my shoes.

Picture 5: Pizza. Inspired by The Cheeseboard in Berkeley. And my sister.

Look at That Bird. And Analyze It.

The bird at the top of this page. Look at it. And for those of you reading this in Google Reader or something similar, you may have to go to my real-live blog to see it.

Okay, see the bird? Now, look at all the arrows labeling the bird. That is someone's attempt to dissect the bird.

So, I was talking to my sister the other day and we decided that we like to figure things out. Dissect things. We like to hash and analyze things until we come to a conclusion.

It's true. I do. I like to dissect. I like to dissect situations, personalities, and birds. I like to figure things out. Today, while I was doing the periodic check of my blog for comments, I figured out that the dissected bird is a symbol. It is the symbol of my blog and my life.

I'm an analyzer. A dissector. And this is my figuring-things-out blog. I think I'm going to call my sister and tell her.

Talking to my Sister

There is no obligatory greeting at the beginning of our phone conversations. As soon as my sisters pick up the phone, I just go-- no stalling, no waiting, no patience-- as if I just walked into the kitchen where they are stirring a pot of soup.

She picks up the phone. ME: "I can't find the chickpeas. Do they keep them with the rest of the canned beans?"

Or she picks up the phone. ME:"So, for our camping trip, we'll go on Friday night and stay in Sedona, AZ. Oak Canyon is supposed to be beautiful right now. Oh yeah, do you want to go camping?"

She picks up the phone. ME: "I bought a shirt. And the sale, it was incredible. Do you think the shirt looks good on me? Uh... just a second, I'll send you a picture."

Minutes and days later, our conversations are still relevant. Somehow, something we discussed ends up being a key absolute in another conversation with another person at another time. I could start every conversation with, "So, I was talking to my sister and..." and I often do.

So, I was talking to my sister and...

- I told her I was dancing to "Poker Face." She didn't know "Poker Face" was a song and said instead, "It's true, you do make a strange face when you dance." I make a poker face when I dance.

- We decided that she should serve four dips at the baby shower and not just three. It was a big debate. We concluded: four dips at a baby shower is NOT overboard. I repeat, it is NOT overboard.

- We discussed what makes a good politician. A good one has to be willing to stand their ground without being overbearing. Good politicians are silently strong.

- She told me that being a sappy girl isn't always a bad thing and sometimes it's unavoidable. She told me to embrace it. Or at least be okay with it. All girls are sappy sometimes.

- After a thorough analysis of Funyuns, we decided that they are indeed disgusting. Do not buy Funyuns, unless it's just for fun.

So, I was talking to my sister and... I decided that I have sisters who always seems to be stirring soup in the kitchen-- waiting for my interruptions, my rantings, my analysis, and my excitements-- when in reality, they are not. I'm not naive, I know they are really running to the grocery store, barely avoiding catastrophes, planning their own parties, helping their neighbors, and taking care of their adorable ones. But, they seem to just be stirring soup and waiting for my call.

I want to be that kind of sister too.