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My Profile
Retro-retrospection - 2008-10-06
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11:42 p.m. - 2004-08-14
Before the storm. The air pressure is dropping. My amok nervous system senses it acutely. My joints feel hollow and my skin is one big nerve net. Like the simple hydra, you touch me and I get zapped head to toe. It’s not static electricity from the outside, thanks to MS a storm front turns me into a Tesla coil. I generate my own electro-magnetic field. I’m surprised spoons don’t stick to me. This isn’t as bad as what my college friend Ace had to deal with. She was a watch killer. The woman could not have a timepiece on her body without the thing going fubar. Not just wind-up watches. She killed any style of watch. It was really weird. After wearing a watch for a bit the thing would start to run fast or the read-out would blink. She said one time during high school she had a watch start running backward. Another friend in our gang was a chemistry major and he always nattered on about Ace having electrolytes in her skin and chemical reactions and a lot of other probably valid scientific conclusions. My own answer was more direct. Ace wasn’t really in our time. I believe it’s possible to move through Time. Yet I also believe we all have our place in Time. Ace was here prematurely or she was here beyond her allotted stay, somehow she’d crossed through to another place in Time. A place she wasn’t meant to be. Her true place in Time keeps pulling her. Thus she’s not quite here and not quite there. Romantic nonsense? Maybe, but it’s a lot cooler than having some problem with haywire ph balance. Ace liked my theory too. We had many semi-drunken undergraduate discussions about it and where she should really be. I miss those talks. I miss talking like that. Very practical my days are now. (Thank you, Yoda. Go away.) Prosaic has its place. It’s necessary. It’s just when everything is “Take the garbage out” life gets soggy for me. For Mike and me the place to zen-talk is the car. It stinks that Alex is here, but working the night shift. Mike and I were really looking forward to having our drives again. When Wolf is in school I’ll tag along with Mike sometimes. We talk, but it doesn’t have that aimless silliness of our nighttime drives. This lack of down time together is one of the reasons we’re so at odds these days. By the time we get finished with telling the other who needs to be where and when, this needs to be paid, that needs to be fixed, the kids did something cute, the neighbor is a jerk, you’ll never guess who I ran into today, we’re both dead on our feet. Conversation splutters. I need to steal my husband away for a real vacation. Alone. SIL has always generously offered to watch Wolf for us. I’ve always turned her down. Wolf was too much of a handful. I was worried about Wolf as much as I worried about my SIL’s sanity and possessions. He had to be watched so closely. Not that she’d neglect him or anything! Far from it. Wolf was just faster and more of a danger to himself than anyone could believe. He’d be on the roof or playing with the power tools in the brief moment she had her eyes closed to sneeze. Nowadays he’s MUCH better. I think it’s safe to take her up on it for a long weekend. She has a college boy leaving home this year too. Think I’ll wait to ask her. Last year I had the move to the new house to distract me and I still came unglued a little. The first chick out of the nest is always a wrench and she needs to get used to her emptier nest before I fill it back up. Columbus Day weekend, maybe. Mike and I could go up to Vermont and look at their leaves instead of our own. Buy some syrup. This irks me. I have over a dozen maple trees in my yard and not a one of them is a sugar maple. I’ve helped make maple syrup. It’s tedious, but worth it. Sort of like this entry. I can’t say to its worthiness, but I will say it’s tedious! Good night, my dears. Stay dry. ~LA
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