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The next week, shaggy-haired emo teenagers were harassed again by punks and rockabillys
Friends are invaluable.
I think this move to Seattle will probably be my last relocation for quite a while (I hope!) Prior to this, I darted around a lot. To Houston for college – with stays in OKC and Austin in between. To Indiana for grad school. To Smithville, then Bastrop during my post-doc. Then across the country to Washington State.
Because of this, I have friends all over the country (and a few scattered around the globe). That’s very cool. But, each time I move, I leave my “local” friends behind. I miss their company, for sure…but I also miss the little amenities that each friend brings to make my life better.
As we approach the end of May (this is traditionally “moving season” for me), I want to acknowledge some of the little details I took for granted about my friends that I am really missing now that I live near NOONE.
~Christy can unravel a snaggled mess of tangled necklaces in about 5 minutes.
~Angel can be dressed and ready to go from the time it takes me to drive the 3 blocks to her house.
~Jewel can tame my hair into styles I never thought were possible.
~Josey will rearrange her plans to go have some impromptu fun.
~DaVida will pimp the parking lot with me and have fun doing it.
~Damion will ignore his ringing phone to listen to my problems.
~Rachele is always down for happy hour. Always.
I miss you guys!
I love to skip. Something about boundign up and down brings me great joy. I love the feel of my curls bobbing atop my head. I was heading to the restroom today and let loose a skip or two as I rounded the corner. Why was I skipping at work? Because it's Friday? Because spring has finally arrived and the weather is gorgeous today? I don't know. What I do know is that - at that moment - I was happy.
I think it might be impossible to skip if you're not happy. Don't you have to be completely content to bounce through the air like that?
(photo by Dave Beckerman, "Skipping Boxes")
***
My gym locker is directly underneath a skylight. I store my lotion on the top shelf. On sunny days, my lotion is nice and warm. A perfect ending to a hot post-run shower.
Okay, I would never agree with a man requiring his wife/sister/mother to wear a burqua. I understand its the way things go in some parts of the world, but luckily for me. Surburban Washington is not one of them (at least not in my house). However, I had an experience today that challenged my very beliefs about burquas.
Women are required to wear burquas so that men don't have to worry about not objectifying them and turning them into sexual objects. So, the argument is that because men are so unable to control their sexual selves, women must take on the burden of saving them from their own immorality by covering up. Heaven forbid a man have enough self control to not oggle a woman or think inappropriate thoughts (or speak inappropriately) to a woman because he happens to see a slip of wrist, or a the line of a neck.
Well, today, while walking across campus, I passed through a group of young gentlement. Now, I've heard some of these youngsters speak in their classes/student clubs so I know they are capable of intelligent speech and manners. For some reason, as I walked by in my high-waisted pencil skirt and fitted blouse, several of them completely lost all good sense and reduced their language to "Damn!", "Lookadere!", Whoo!" and smacky, kissy noises.
Instantly self-conscience of the way my backside was being so blatantly pointed out, I willed myself into invisibility (which y'all know didn't happen). Then, for some reason, I thought, "That's why husbands make their wives wear burquas in public". Because there are a small group of imbeciles who really cannot control themselves (or at least pretend to be this way in front of their friends).
I know my arse is larger than average. It's in my genetics. It's toned and muscular and as fit as I can make it, but it will never be normal size. I also know, that my small waist only brings attention to the size of my hiney. I have struggled with accepting this about myself for the last 20 years or so. But, I am certain that my bum is not the biggest bum they've ever seen.
Of course I wanted to turn around, memorize their faces, then tell their sociology teachers to give them F's at the end of the quarter. But, turning around might be mistaken for acceptance of this behavior - and that is certainly not the message I want to send.
Somewhere, these guys have encounted a girl who responded positively to this sort of behavior. Otherwise, why would they even think that was acceptable. I guess the bigger question is, what kind of woman or girl would be flattered by such disgusting, offensive verbal behavior? Is her self-esteem so damaged that she is happy for any attention she gets, even if its negative attention? Is this the culture that perpetuates the striving "video ho" subculture?
I'm disappointed that these young students would behave this way to a professional. They know I am faculty because they've seen me act in that capacity. For those that haven't seen me in a professional light previously, they certainly saw the purple faculty badge I had snapped on my shirt.
Well, maybe not...because they probably didn't even pay attention to me from the front. Wearing a burqua is not an option. But I shouldn't have to adjust my behavior so any man I encounter in public doesn't have to worry about his behavior. Fuck a burqua. These idiots need to learn once and for all to respect women and girls. If they don't know this by college, when will they learn? Shit, now I feel like I should have turned around and started a converation about respect and proper treatment of women. If they can't learn it at home - do I have to teach them?
If you were born before the 80s, you remember the President's Physical Fitness test. Although most kids dreaded this measure of fitness, I looked forward to this part of the year, because I usually ranked up there with the boys (except in pull-ups - I suck at pull-ups). Also, I was the State Sit-and-Reach champ for 2 years in a row.
Well, due to the fat epidemic currently over-running the US, the Baby Boomers had a great idea to bug the prez into re-releasing the test for adults (I won't even begin to preach about the need for this sort of thing back in elementary schools).
Click here to get started.
Aside: We're at war in Iraq and Afghanistan, with a close eye on Iran & N. Korea. Gitmo is a fugging mess. New Orleans is still being treated like an illegitimate child. The Midwest is being torn to bits by tornados. There's been a cyclone in Burma and an earthquake in China, both of which could use some recovery help from their international neighbors. Americans are having to choose between gas and groceries. Amid all of this, Bush has made Baby-boomer physical fitness a top priority.
Seattle Asian Pacific Island Heritage Festival 2008
So, beignets and lattes are certainly not asian. But, Seattle Center has a New Orleans Beignet stand and I just wanted the world to know that they taste deliciously authentic, and the coffee wasn't half bad.
WHEN PIGS FLY!
I saw this cute little statue in Seattle Center near the Pacific Science Center.
Today is a great day! For one, its Cinco de May - which means chips & salsa followed by whatever the Tex-Mex May 5 special is, followed by sopapillas (if I can be so lucky) and washed down with a premium margarita.
The sunrise over the lake this morning was BREATHTAKING!
As I was taking my power-walk at lunchtime, an old lady drove past me and gave me the thumbs up and a HUGE grin. Certainly added about .25 rpms to my pace. Then an old man working in his street-side garden gave me a low five on the way past. Then, another Miss Daisy gave me the black power fist and a "You Go Girl!" as I trucked it past her slow moving car.
I found out my baby cousin will be in OKC at the same time as me.
My midwife gave me a clean bill of reproductive health.
And, I'm looking fabu in my Project Runway-inspired Bitten dress from Steve & Barry's.
The weather is (finally) warming up, so you know what that means? It's wig season for Karla.
See, I L-O-V-E short hair, but refuse to cut my mid-back length curls that I've been growing out for the past 4 years or so. (Although you'd never know my hair was so long because the curls shrink so and I REFUSE to thermally or chemically straigthen my tresses.) So, when the weather warms up and my neck can stand to be bare, I weave-it-up, or go for a short wig. I have a closet full of them! Here's the spring 2008 interpretation of last spring's spiral curly homemade wig. I've used the power of the bobby pin to turn it into a classic pin-tuck bob and I must say it looks pretty fierce!
