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© 2004-2008 Linda Escaip
"I may be grumpy, but I like you."
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The Suns and Moons of the Grumpiest Girl in the Room.
Welcome to my journal, starshine.
A Little Necessary Projection 23-Feb-2005 7:52 p.m.
The rain has stopped, at least until next Tuesday. I look forward to its return. I have never grumbled at the rain; not once. That would be rude and besides, I love a good storm. I went outside earlier and took pictures of the sky as it changed colours faster than a teenager can wolf down breakfast. I got to see a biplane. I was reminded how quickly and effortlessly the sky restores me. I should look up more often.
I remember lying in the grass with my mom when I was very young, the two of us looking up at the sky. Mom reached out, grabbed a cloud and ate it. She could do fascinating things, my mom. I wanted to be just like her. She told me I could grab a cloud and eat it too. So I did. Clouds really do taste like marshmallows. If I could have that day back, I'd find a way to keep it in my pocket like a favourite stone. But I guess they're never lost—days, that is.
I don't have a favourite pocket stone, as I am more inclined to enjoy all my stones equally. But there is one in particular I carry more often than the rest: a Botswana eye agate which resembles a galaxy. It offers protection, something I have always felt I needed.
I was five years old when I discovered a glorious man in a drum-shaped bin amid various assorted toys. What someone of his caliber was doing in there mixing with a heap of lifeless playthings remains a mystery. This man was special and I knew it. Armed with a whistle, sporting a dapper, authoritative blue suit and cap, this policeman was exactly what I needed to keep the meanies away.
"Mom! Mom! Can I have this?"
He accompanied me wherever I went. His very existence was founded on the idea of keeping me safe from heartless kids. Kids like Mary Poop. I carried him in the pocket of my pants, and if my pants happened to be pocket-deficient, I tucked him into the waistband. I even brought him into the tub with me until his lovely blue uniform began to fade in areas, revealing his pale skin. He was made of rubber, with wires in his legs making them bendable, but without wires in his arms. He has a tear in each underarm from people trying to bend them. Luckily, no one was obliged to use excessive force when doing so, or he would be armless. It wasn't long before I learned to tell people before handling him not to bend his wonderful arms.
When I first got him, I showed him to my neighbour Mary Poop. I let her know he was my protector.
"That's stupid. It's a rubber toy."
Apparently Mary wasn't hip to the power of the mind. Man, I was forever trying to get her approval, but every attempt made in that direction would prompt her to bitch-slap me with words. All during our youth, I was told repeatedly by her that every friend I ever made was weird or stupid somehow. I recall the day I had had enough of her and yelled at her quite effectively. I don't know what I said, but I had grown tired of listening to her pick on me and everyone I liked. The quickest way to disarm an asshole is to show them you have huevos. Ole Mary Poop shrank back down to size that day, and it was glorious.
When my best friend, The Lovely Bea, went to Europe to visit her dying father, Mr. Policeman went with her. I couldn't go, so he was the next best thing. Today he resides on the bookcase in the living room, and I still believe he possesses as much protective qualities as ever. Like the stones I collect and carry. Whatever we believe is so, to some degree.
Some beliefs could use an overhaul. I try to take inventory of my beliefs from time to time to weed out the insubstantial ones. I love when someone says or does something making me think differently, outside my certainty. I could use some of that good stuff daily. I look back at some of the shit I bought into previously; some of it makes me laugh while other bits of it make me wince. Some people are Crazy-Glued to what they think is true and false. A great many beliefs seem most agreeable when they are changeable. I've watched people be eaten alive and/or utterly isolated by their cherished opinions.
I might have a banana split tonight and don't care who knows it. Everybody needs a banana split sometimes. I am one of the fastest ice cream eaters this side of wherever. Don't know what causes that, really. I might enter a contest. Bea's step-mom is the fastest artichoke eater this side of someplace, and I wonder if I can eat a bowl of ice cream faster than she can eat an artichoke. I'd like to try. If we ever have a showdown I'll let you know how it all turned out.
Quote From My World
"Oh, she can kiss my ass—once I grow hair on it and stop bathing."
I started reading Rituals of Healing which illustrates the use of imagery for health and wellness. The chapter on autoimmune disorders is rockin' the ever-loving Casbah. I'm not into medication so that isn't an option for me. I'm interested in healing completely, not masking. Whoa, I just heard the theme from Rocky in my head.
Well, I'm off to write lyrics to the theme from "Hill Street Blues". You would too, if you could. Thanks for reading.
Linda
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