Let the necking...begin!

"Charles—it was love at first sight when I saw your beautiful, long neck..."

"Nadine—you're the one with the vertebra that WON'T QUIT"

And then they stared at their lake reflections fer hours, Jennifer B.

http://mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload/2008/09/giraffe-and-ost.html

I feel blue

Yes. I’m feeling sorry for myself again. Being sick tends to have that effect on me. As I stood this morning in the kitchen… dirty kitchen, scrounging around for a spoon that looks “clean” to eat my sago porridge, I’m engulfed in waves of self-pity. Majorly cause its pitiful that one has to cook breakfast for oneself when one is so sick. And when one has to go see the disinterested-in-your-care doctors in a big fancy hospital by oneself. And when one has to buy medicines and then remember to take them by oneself. And when your tummy hurts in the middle of the night there isn’t anyone but your own thineself who is rubbing your tummy going, “there there”… ok ok I wasn’t. But I was moaning by myself. :( I miss my mom.

Meh.

Ok anyways. I have decided on the tattoo I want. Finally. YES! Something to look forward to and worry about till I get it and then worry about how it looks. Fun. :P

No, it’s not ornamental or a bilingual motif that means auspicious in one language and turnip in another. No, it’s not my name in Hebrew. No, it’s not his name in Braille. Oooooh. Wait. That’s a NEAT idea. Hmmmm. Bears thinking over. Well, no ones going to be able to miss it once I get it. That’s all I’m mentioning at this point.

I’m more than a lil excited about it. Majorly cause it means freedom for me. For so many things that ppl take for granted, it will be a fresh start for me. I’m doing a lot of research on this, trying to find the right artist, esp. if that right artist is also located where my clients are when I go visit them in States :P cause travelling to SF to get a tattoo on a business visit to NY would just not be possible!

Thinking of the tattoo actually gives me a lot of… joy, believe it or not. There isn’t all that much to be joyful about as it is in my life. Maybe the word is hopeful. Things at work couldn’t suck more. Things at home stink… literally. My pee is sunset orange, which normally is a happy color, but not in your toilet bowl. I’m surviving on fried eggs and toast. My mouth tastes vile and bitter. I think I have dandruff. I think Cherie has it too. I have no desire to move beyond the space that is my bed and at times I contemplate if it would be ok to just pee in the bed just so I do not have to get up. My heightened sensitivity to noise, light and in particular smell is not HELPING!!!

Meh.

But thinking of the tattoo helps.

I am a Thunder and Static kind of day!

Life Begins, new Mommieee >:D<, you tagged me which leads me to believe that you have some interest in knowing what day I wish to be, so here goes.

***

There's one and only one kind of day I wish to be and that is a thunderous, overcast, heavy with impending rain, charged with static day.

When you wake up in the morning and the sky looks dark and angry, rumbling deep in her belly her discontent with the general state of affairs, the hot arid indifference of the sun, and you just know it's going to be a wet wet, gloriously wet day. The air is charged with static, making your hair dance in the wind as you take down the laundry from the clothesline, a bitty annoying but a bitty fun, it smells slightly musty and you turn your nose up a notch to catch the deliciously effervescent scent.

Lightning flashes and streaks across the sky, the wind picks up strength, lifting petticoats and kicking up naughty dust devils, they swirl and tease the road-side trash. Thunder cracks out a loud warning setting off car alarms, startling you and making you almost spill your morning tea. Steady arms tether you close and you both stand just under the canopy of the balcony, unmistakably giving in to the joy of watching the heavens put on a pompous light and sound show.

Pitter-patter-pitter-pat-pat... fat orbs whizz down to the parched earth, crack open and turn everything a shade or so dark and very damp. The heady scent of wet earth makes your senses dance, his eyes light up with delight as you lean in for a kiss, the soft spray of the raindrops misting over your feet deliciously. The heavens pour their hearts out, enveloping you in a world of rain, turning everything into muted shades of pastel, like an old watercolor painting.

Lost in languor, the wet morning seeps into a damp evening. Snuggled close under warm blankets, the world outside the window looks clean and fresh, a soft cool breeze sneaks in ruffling the curtains. "Chai", softly whispered, just so it would not annoy you... too much."Ok baba, but you make the pakoras."

***

Even though I HATE what rain does to anything below the vicinity of my ankles, how the roads turn muddy and impassable, how the gutters swell and flood with trash, reeking of filth... not to mention how suddenly all autowalas not want to go anyFUCKINGwhere. GRRR. And oh yeah, the infux of happily swarming mosquitoes and flies. Yech.

But I absolutely adore storms, booming thunder and crackalicious lightning, the wind wailing as if the world is truly coming to an end. The sheer power of nature and the faciniating display of it, completely rocks my senses. Most of my dreams, esp. the flying ones have an overcast weather, gloomy clouds and the soft spray of rain. I love it. When I wake up in the morning and I see its all couldy and dark, I feel euphoric. There's a promise of something fresh and clean in the air, plus it tends to make me feel reeeeeeeeally frisky. :P

Tagging ~nm.