Monday, June 23, 2008

My Spine Is Younger Than Yours

Yesterday afternoon I lay in a hammock for a full hour. I had an ice tea on the ground next to me…blue sky with puffy white clouds floating by…and long green tree branches fanning me like young, strapping, half-nekkid native boys. It was lovely.

At first I stared at the sky and thought about things. All the usual things that one thinks about when one finds the time to think purely selfish thoughts. Eventually all those thoughts narrowed down into one glorious summation. I’m currently very happy. And then I stopped thinking. Which, I think, is kind of like having a stroke.

My weekend was filled with sunshine. Yes, it has finally arrived. I’m in my three month don’t-detest-Oregon phase. I’m also fairly certain this will have an impact on the number of f-bombs used in my writing. I don’t know if this is a good thing or not. Perhaps you can tell me.

Or perhaps you cannot because you’re out in the sunshine yourselves. And that’s ok.

Oh god, I’ve become a hippie. I can already smell the patchouli oozing out of my pores like garlic. Looks like it’s time for a bleach bath tonight. Unclean. UNCLEAN.

Poor George Carlin. I really don’t agree with all this death of late. Something besides age and poor genetics/living has to be causing it. Something even more sinister. Like…bad juju. Somewhere out in the
Louisiana swamps there’s a crazy-haired Creole lady who goes by the name of Marie Lapin using her gris gris to make Tim Russert have a heart attack. Stranger things have happened.

Yes they have.

Speaking of conspiracy theories – I woke up this morning with the cat staring at me strangely. I know it’s possible that I was talking in my sleep, or that I’d just inadvertently slapped her or something, but I really don’t think either of those things happened. I think she was just…looking at me. It made me uncomfortable. Like she knows something I don’t know and instead of telling me what it is in some sort of magical way, she’s just going to eat my face off and live in my neck.

Anyway, I’m hoping that doesn’t happen. My company’s having its Christmas party this week and I really don’t want to miss it. It’s a casino night. I might wear shockingly high heels.

14 keep(s) me blogging:

Stinkypaw said...

Yuck patchouli... I remember that smell... you do need a bath! ;-)

And you might be on to something with this Marie Lapin conspiracy...we never know... but I don't think your cat will eat your face just yet. I'm sure you have other "meatier" areas for her to munch on, no?

The Future said...

I'm glad you liked the hammock, I won't remind you how many years it has been "out in the weather". Oh well, that's part of the great outdoors, right?

How can you think of wearing your shockingly high heels without your hugely fishnet stockings. That is a must.

I'm dying to blog some of my new ideas but I have too much work to do. You'll just have to wait!

Wow, that was awkward said...

Can I suggest you set your cat free - back to the wild where she belongs? Ahchooo.

Ahh, Xmas in June, one of my fave holidays. Although its hard to beat the fireworks in December.

Kara said...

stinkypaw - oh i'm not just worried about my face.

mum - i can't wear fishnets in the summer...those are winter wear! blog lady, blog!

wow - if i set her free she'd be dead immediately. she doesn't know how to be...out.

Gorilla Bananas said...

You've discovered the eternal secret of zen apism: hammock + sunshine = happiness. Interrogate the cat until he meows, he may have heard you talking in your sleep.

Robert the Skeptic said...

As the Molby Revolving Hammock ad says, you clearly were suspended in "the keen relish of a healthful existence". You should write for the free book.

We bask in these rare beautiful Oregon days and are lulled into the belief it will be like this all the time. Yet we have lived here long enough to know one should use this time to purchase airline tickets to someplace warm come January.

But how can you go wrong if you "Make your spine young!" ??

Mary Witzl said...

My cat does the staring thing too. She only meows if she has killed something; the staring thing is her attempt to gain control of my mind. Total control, that is.

Loved George Carlin. He had a dirty mouth and he was obnoxious, but he was wonderfully funny, and he told it like he saw it. And he made people laugh for decades. Even our kids are devastated.

Susie Q said...

R.I.P. George.
My family is currently in Sunriver, where the sun is a'blazin'. Leave it to us to be away from the Portland area JUST in time to miss our own sunshine.

We have decided to have a "George Carlin night" when we return.
I can't tell you how many doobies were toked listening to the master in his prime, (early days) Alas, it is an end to an era, truly a sad, sad day.
Oh and Kara, I read your blog outloud to the "girls", Em and Sarah. We giggled in unison, 'twas marvelous! We are hoping the cat does not eat your face off and live in your neck. ((((Shudder)))

Cathy said...

Oh wow. A casino night. I thoroughly recommend blackjack (pontoon? 21? - what's the lingo over there?)

And yup, cat's are freaky. Although I'm sure she wouldn't eat your face OFF, maybe just disfigure you slightly. After all, why end a cosy arrangement whereby food appears every day, on demand, for minimum fuss. Was that it? Did you forget to - *gasp* - feed her? I miss my cat, George. I miss him and and his many freaky moments.

problemchildbride said...

All the good guys seem to be taking a mortal hit lately.

George Carlin is a mammoth loss. The world is better that he was here though. A Carlin night sounds like a brilliant idea, Susie.

Gambling's not my cup of tea - I'd be inclined to just find the bar and sit and people-watch. Casinos are brilliant for that. And they are the very best place to wear one's highest heels. Go all out baby - it's Christmas!

Kara said...

goranas - it's quite possible. i've been doing it since i was a child. i'd make a terrible spy.

dad - i can't go wrong. and nothing will ever change my mind about that.

mary - so, meowing cat = death. got it. still scared.

sue - not fair! i haven't been to sunriver in years. i miss it so. go to goody's and eat a malt for me.

cathy - we call it blackjack too, i think. i don't generally forget to feed the cat, though i'm horrible at dealing with her litter box. what can i say, i don't enjoy disgusting chores. not worth killing me over, though.

sam - oh i'm sure i'll lose my "money" somewhat instantly and then i'll take to drinking and telling other people what to do with theirs. i'm good at that. it's all about being authoritative.

AxAtlas said...

Glad you are happy

tyandlaura said...

Well, all kinds of imagery going on in this post. It's possible I may never look at the trees in our mother's backyard the same again after that nekkid boy analogy of yours.

I also didn't quite care for the bit about Tallulah living in your bloody neck stump. What a lovely mental picture to be carrying around in my head whenever I see her from now on. Thanks for that.

Orhan Kahn said...

.. she’s just going to eat my face off and live in my neck.