Sunday, January 22, 2006

You know what's good at turning me into a little puddle of samantha? A thank you note from my grandma for the flowers I sent when my uncle died. If I could, I would put my grandma under glass. She ought to be saved for future generations.

Pleasing: "You guys? Are like siamese twins connected at the strange."

Things have been a little busy lately, what with the housewarming party at John's and the space store and the shows last night at Mars Bar. (I came out as an MAPC groupie to Saundrah last night, because I ran into her in the space girl bathroom. Caroline and I were busy getting a condom and a ring out of the machine in there, so it looks like I am now engaged to the condom machine at the Mars Bar. Dear beer, I love you too.)

Also, myself and Steph: "I will be a robo ninjapirate, who plays the tambourine in an indie band."
"What will your sound be? Will you yarrrr?"
"I will go, "Hi-yarrr!"
"You are a special woman."

You are not allowed back in my life. I appreciate the apology and the acknowledgement of the fact that you acted like an asshole, but now you are banned from here. A year later is too late for reconciling, and my brain is screaming to abort your smile. I know that I said that I wanted another little heartbreak for spice this year, but I didn't mean it literally or so soon.

Two things have been taking up my brain these days. First, I have been thinking of the statue of Coatlcue from 15th century Teotihuacan. She was the Aztec goddess of earth and death, and around her neck she wore a strand of hearts and hands. And I've been thinking how different, how refreshing it might be to try that out--to turn my fingers into snakes and your hearts into accessories.
But I have also been thinking of the unicorn tapestries at the Cloisters, how they have hung on walls since the end of the sixteenth century, slowly fading. But because they had faded so slowly over so many years no one really knew how brilliant they could be and had been. Except one day someone started a project to fix their tattered backing, and the colors that had been hidden for years were suddenly revealed.
Hands and hearts and hidden colors--they're all on my mind.

No comments: