Archive for October, 2011

Chicken or the Egg?

Monday, October 31st, 2011

I just ate about a teaspoon of salt off a Himalayan salt lamp I’ve had for at least thirteen, maybe fifteen years.

Wha……????

You’re wondering if perhaps I’m hallucinating, naturally.

Well, I’m not sure, as I just ate about a teaspoon of salt off a Himalayan salt lamp I’ve had for at least thirteen, maybe fifteen years. Onc never really feels that in control after such a reckless act of yuck.

I have no idea what came over me. I was cleaning off my dresser, and I realized the lamp was surrounded by salt  (why have I never seen this before in all these years???), and um, I was curious…and I suppose a bit hungry.

It’s ‘that time of the month’ if that counts toward any sort of hormonal delusion get out of jail free card.

Moreover, I feel ashamed now. I really do.

In other news, I have a migraine and probably my only hope is a cold wash cloth and some sleep…and maybe the sodium-rich residue off a well-traveled and barely, if ever, dusted Himalayan salt lamp originally puchased in that weird tunnel where you get on the tram between The Luxor and Mandalay Bay in roughly 1997.

Here’s hoping salt has a sense of humor…

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Seconds to spare

Sunday, October 30th, 2011

And not much to say, so enjoy this inadvertently melancholy photo of me.

20111030-235922.jpg

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We are creatures of the wind

Saturday, October 29th, 2011

I’ve just now started this post, and the wind – the trade winds – are blowing on me as they do all day and all night now, as constant as a heartbeat.

And in the background, Cat Power is singly sadly and hauntingly and longingly, imploring:

“Give me more than one grasp
To satisfy this hungriness
We’re creatures of the wind
Wild is the wind.”

And I feel a little melancholy listening to her now, although not at all bad.

 

I finally feel a bit settled. I built a “chandelier” of Christmas lights over my (donated and not what I would ever choose, but oh well) dining room table and my bedroom is – within the confines of what Craigslist offered up in her sweet but limited hands – looking a bit like me. And I put some art – some old Pan Am and United Airlines “come to Hawaii” advertisements – in the bathroom. It’s starting to feel familiar, which is very good for my other writing efforts, as I’ve been distracted in trying to get things calm. Funny how much work it sometimes requires to achieve a state of ease.

 

If I ever have a daughter, I may just name her Hallelujah.

In other news, there isn’t much other news. I go through my ups and downs and mild freak outs and optimistic spikes and everything in between as I’m sure you do, but mostly I feel good. I drive around in an old Jeep on an island I only once dreamed of living on, and I can hardly believe my good luck at making all this real. I don’t exactly know where it’s headed or how I’ll keep it all afloat, but for now I’m okay with employing a certain measure of luck and a large dose of faith and plugging away at what I’m good at and love with the belief that whether or not it is clear to me, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

I am starting to think the purpose of it all – the meaning of life, if you will – is to fall in love: fall in love with absolutely everything you can. I feel rather blessed to have so many remarkable people and places and animals and moments with which to practice that discipline.

Life is short: love everything about it you possibly can.

So there you go.

Namaste, kids.

Sweet dreams and happy moments wherever this finds you. xo

 

 

 

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Say hello to my (not so) little friend.

Friday, October 28th, 2011

This is Kane.

He lives in my bathtub.

I hope this is a cane spider anyway. I'm running with assumption...

He’s been there about four, maybe five days now. I don’t have the heart to throw him out. I’m not sure what to do about him, actually.

He doesn’t like the water. When I shower, he runs toward the back and sits on my razor (and then scurries away from my razor if I reach for it, which is thoughtful of him.) However, he doesn’t not like the water enough to move.

He’s set up shop in the tub, and I suspect he’ll live out the rest of his natural life there eating…???

What do cane spiders eat, anyway?

Hopefully not sugar cane, because there’s none around here. There isn’t even any sugar, save some stevia which isn’t sugar really and has kind of a bitter thing going on.

Come to think of it, I know very little about my new roommate except that he is a gargantuan spider. Minus my black widow freak out, I rather like spiders. This is good news for Kane, because is he was a millipede I would have beaten him senseless with a platform shoe upon first sight. This is mostly because of the dog: he once ate a yellowjacket and it did NOT go down quietly. As his tongue was being stung, he turned to me with a look that said, “How could you have let this happen???” so I have vowed not to let the same occur with any centipedes or millipedes that may enter.

Kane: retro spider

This is especially true since Fu is coming soon: next Monday, in fact! This makes me worry a little, as Fu Manchu is quite the hunter. My friends’ cat just ate its first gecko, and they were very upset about this. I tried to assure them there were millions more where that gecko came from, but they weren’t comforted. As for me, I consider this house a 24-hour all-you-can-eat gecko buffet. Go nuts.

Do spiders hiss?

I crawled into the tub  to take a few more pictures – this time with Hipstamatic. Enjoy! – and I could have sworn I heard Kane hiss at me. That’s not very nice, if so.

Upon looking this up, I’d say the information is inconclusive:

The brown huntsman spiderHeteropoda venatoria, is found in many tropical and subtropical parts of the world, including Asia, some Mascarene and Caribbean islands, the Southeastern US, and (especially) Australia. In Hawaii, where it was introduced, it is known as the cane spider. They are fairly large, some having a leg span of approximately five inches (13 centimetres). Although they are rather fearsome in appearance, they are very easily alarmed by the approach of humans and will very rapidly flee.

Kane: electric Kool Aid acid test spider.

The female brown huntsman can be recognized by her stout body and the pillow-like egg sac that she often carries under her. (YUCK!!! Happy to report Kane appears to be male.) The male typically has a slender body, longer and thinner legs, and a distinctive pattern on his carapace Both male and female are reddish-brown to grayish-brown in color, and slightly hairy.

Brown huntsman spiders do not spin webs. These spiders are known to hunt by waiting quietly on a vertical surface (or even a ceiling) and then rushing forward when their prey gets within close range. Their exceptional agility and speed, as well as their ability to contort and squeeze through tight spaces, give them a strong advantage both in capturing prey and evading predators. They feed at night. Brown huntsmen are welcomed in some homes, as they feed on pests such as roaches and silverfish

 

The hissing aside, Kane is welcome to stay put in the tub. I don’t even want to think what he’s been catching in there and if it’s been coming up from the drains or what, but any enemy of the roach is a friend of mine.

 

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My infomercial psuedonym has been taken

Thursday, October 27th, 2011

“Stella Riches” is currently on my TV hocking some kind of bra. Did you know throwing your bra away is like throwing out money? Me neither. I thought they just got old and it was the natural progression of things: the circle of lingerie life. I like to bury mine at sea, but that’s another story for another day.

In other news, I have just assembled a cheap Wal-Mart bookshelf incorrectly FIVE TIMES. And I used glue two of the times. And now I’m going to go sloppily drive a bunch of nails and screws into it, in the hopes that it doesn’t collapse into a pile of pressed wood rubble when I put a few things on it. In a just world, magic elves would appear after the fourth or fifth incorrect assembly and bail me out.

oak bookshelf

It looks like this. Sort of. Only black. And with a wee Tower of Pisa thing going on.

Seriously, between this and my new-found dialing problem – I seemingly cannot dial the numbers into a phone as they are  printed in front of me – I’m starting to wonder if I have Adult Onset Dyslexia or am just plain dumb.

The worst of it?

I have two more bookshelves to deal with. At this rate, I’ll be at it until dawn.

That puts my hourly wage at roughly $1.10 an hour…nearly three times what JR proposed in his “give Vanessa $20 and she’ll write you something personal every day of the month” and something about your complexion looking nice. I suppose I should be glad none of you jumped in on this. I’m going to choose to interpret it that you value my time much more highly than this, and not that you won’t even spot me the $20 in exchange for egregious return favors.  ***sniffle***

 

Okay, enough bitching. I’m getting sick of my own self. Back to the bookshelves! I’ve done one…I can do three. Or maybe it takes ten fucks ups before the elves show? I have a feeling we’ll find out…

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