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April 14, 2008
randomly assembled fragments
file under: firsts
Peter and I drove to Savannah for a much-needed weekend away from Athens (and all things grad school), and I finally popped my coastal cherry. My first ever trip to the ocean (any ocean) was all I imagined it would be and less: very large, very blue, very cold, very wet and the beach was completely free of dead fish, something I was very, very apprehensive about on the way there. Most of y'all probably know about my ichthyophobia (and for those who don't, please don't even ask, just look up "phobia" and laugh to yourselves if you must but before offering any advice about facing my fear, go re-read the part about unreasonable fear and then just don't say it). Anyway. It's only the third time in my adult life that I've even gone to any beach at all, having had a bit of a bad experience at Ipperwash when I was twenty that put me off the lakes pretty much for good (see above re: fish phobia) so it's nice that the time of year or the tides or the ocean deity or whatever made it all nice and clean and not-scary for me. I licked my foot back at the hotel later and to my childish delight, it tasted like salt.
The complete flickr set of our trip is right here (beware: it's mostly brick walls).
file under: home stretch
There are only two more weeks of school left, which means two weeks until my thesis (or rather, "written report", which while being more accurate also sounds far less scary) is due. Two. Weeks. Peter is leaving here on Wednesday and this will be the last time, ever, that he will leave me alone here. In two weeks he'll come back, this time with the kids and with a trailer hitch attached to the car, and we'll leave together. And the skies will open up and the birds will sing and the mice will prance around in adorable little waistcoats and the butterflies will tie ribbons in my hair (wait, that might be the birds) and all the kitties in the world will flop over in unison for belly rubs. Cue the children's choir.
file under: dreams you don't want to come true
Last night I dreamed that I was at the studio having sexual relations with a certain aging mostly forgotten former pop star. Doesn't matter who, it's not someone you younguns have ever heard of and certainly not someone I've really ever thought of at all, either as a sex object or as someone with a band worth listening to. As dream sex goes it wasn't in any way pleasurable but there's one distinct image that won't leave my mind: his penis was long and thin and even though it was fairly erect the foreskin still went pretty much all the way to the tip, and it was sparsely covered in lustrous brown hairs about three centimetres long that swooped down towards his body and curved out slightly at the end, sort of like little kids' drawings of pine trees, if you can picture that. I know, ugh, right? But I can't stop seeing it. Incidentally, the rest of his hair was silver and very long and thick, even though the last time I saw a picture of the guy (which was from more than twenty years ago) he was balding. And not gray, and he certainly didn't seem the sort to have any kind of remarkable foreskin.
file under: vanity
Speaking of gray hair, though: last Friday before the opening I went out and got my first ever fifty dollar haircut (Chala at Republic, whom I highly recommend if you're naturally curly and living in Athens, GA). I wanted to train my hair to part on the side instead of in the middle so she gave me a nice part on the right. Two days later I moved it to the left because that's where my little gray patch is, and I want it to show because I have it in my head that it's a streak even though it's really just about thirty or so gray hairs clustered. I'd appreciate it if y'all would just humour me and pretend it's turning into a streak, because I'm convinced that this streak, when it finally appears for real, is going to miraculously transform me into one of those sultry middle-aged women who get respect and also lots of boyfriends.
ps,
Posted by jodi at April 14, 2008 08:56 PM | categories: self-absorbtion
Comments
Oh come on. After all that you HAVE to tell us (or at least me) who the pop star was!
Posted by: cari at April 14, 2008 11:09 PM
Two weeks? Wow! What a journey! Bella will certainly roll over for that belly rub!
Posted by: Sandy at April 15, 2008 09:16 AM
I'm with Cari. Although your description of his "goods" sounds more like a .... I don't know exactly what, but a nonhuman mammalian species.
Posted by: Norma at April 15, 2008 09:30 AM
wow - two weeks? i remember when you were leaving for athens for the first time. frightening how time flies.
and yes, you must tell us who the guest in your dream was!!
Posted by: brenda in toronto at April 15, 2008 10:18 AM
That is one weird dream. You aren't spinning any short-haired brown fleece, are you?
Posted by: elizabeth at April 15, 2008 10:53 AM
Curly girls, represent! I too cannot wait to go dramatically silver with one beautiful, expanding streak.
I think I am the only one who doesn't want to know who the pop star was.
Posted by: Rachel T at April 15, 2008 12:10 PM
Sex dreams are worse than nightmares when they're bad. And also, the penis you described (minus the foreskin and hairs) sounds suspiciously like one I've saw back in college and for that, I feel your pain.
Posted by: grace at April 15, 2008 12:37 PM
Please excuse my poor grammar in the last comment. I also meant to ask, is there a particular incident that caused your fear of fish?
Posted by: grace at April 15, 2008 12:39 PM