the waves crashing on shore, i seek salt
Jun. 16th, 2003 12:59 pmhaven't posted lately because I've been coming to grips with being ill and tired. The cough snuck up on me mid last week, the sneezing flirted a bit (but only in dusty corners) but now the cough has settled around my chest and throat like an old scarf. It is a dry thing, this cough - I keep on downing glasses of water but I always feel like there's a film there that I can't wash away. The weather hasn't been helping - as I told ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saava, I think part of the reason why I've been so unreasonable and irritated about being sick is that it seems wrong to be sick in summer. Especially in Southern California, where you can see miles of tan and the heat lingering in the air, even after the sun's gone down. When I'm not in my pajamas in dark rooms avoiding the heat, I'm outside running errands, all covered up. I feel ancient.
There was a brief respite Sunday morning - I had an Indian champagne brunch with Paul. I actually felt like 22 and not 62 - as we downed mimosas (nine o clock in the morning because we are rebels that way) and I promptly became flushed and giddy and Paul turned red (Asian Drinking at its finest) and we started reminiscing about our high school days. Paul's sister recently graduated from high school and he called me from the ceremony, bitching about it - and apparently there's a thin divide between geeks and nerds and Paul says we are geeks, not nerds. He's been thinking about this a lot, I can tell - and my god, is that a Vulcan handshake?
We bum around suburbia for a bit longer as the Indian restaurant doesn't actually open until 11:30 - we walk into a ToysRUs (our relationship with ToysRus is exactly like a drunk with a bar - we are drawn hopelessly into it even though we know we will probably leave it disappointed and one shoe missing) and this is the scary part of the morning - there are wrestlemania action figures that have squishy chest parts. It feels as if you are pushing in a nipple. And then there is the yellow sticker, taunting us with "Come on, touch it, I DARE YA."
Then there are the poseable figures with one grabbing the hair of the other and the other one leaning back toward the other's crotch. Why have all the toys suddenly become seething figures of homoerotic want?
The Barbies just depress me.
Also, nearly all the action model cars have subtitled packaging in French.
The baby/toddler toys are the coolest toys by far.
After similar roadside attractions at a Patio Furniture Store ("I am going to own a villa in Tuscany, so this is all pretty useless") a Big Five Sporting Goods ("Why are there so many men wearing ties?") we finally end up at the Indian Restaurant. The Indian restaurant has fake ornamental fire, incense and purple as the 'accent' color and a nearly constant stream of Bhangra music videos. They also have the best damn.samosas.ever.
What I love best about Indian cuisine, and by extension Asian cuisine - are the spices and the colors of it. The colors are vivid, the bright yellow and oranges of curry or tandoori chicken against white rice, and the taste is vivid too. I managed a plate and a half and then I made Paul fetch me a honey soaked cheese ball for dessert.
I spent the rest of the day hanging out with his sisters, as Paul had to sleep off all the food - hanging out translating into being clustered around their computer with its broadband connection and downloading Wallace&Gromit shorts and Jo's latest Sark video, and all the Tom McRae mp3s I could for Paul's sister (it is a never ending spiritual journey for me, I swear), and reading Japanese soap opera graphic novels, marvelling at how how one could have eyes the size of dinner plates and still wear hats. Anime boys are all of the much glamorized Eurotrash/adrogynous variety, with one of the popular 'hero' looking much like a Nick Rhodes, only younger and having much better bone structure, and you know, not so short.
Have decided all the marvelously pretty European boys are really Anime Boyfriends in disguise. And to stop deluding the audience - A girl's best friend is her gayboyfriend. So, multimedia giants - take heed - when his eyelashes are that much longer, and you've described him in any way as 'supple' or skin like 'caramel', Juliana doesn't really want him - Roberto does. Their loveissoAbercrombie&Fitch.
Then I came home and I fell back into disarray, if you're being artsy about it - there was a major crash.
This morning, I washed my car (it's not the plague if you can wash your car!) and now I'm finally reading my friends' page and answering some emails.
So in no particular order -
i'm in a 'boys are silly' mood lately, but I would still like to make out with people especially if they followed this regime. Just make out. No shagging. Am not cheap date.
smithereen "He looks like Jimmy Stewart in his younger days" - Dave to a T, I'm sure you'll agree.
researchminion You did more than any cough syrup or bedrest could do. Thank you so much - i'm always fascinated by what other people's perceptions are, and well, not once, but twice - I'm lost for words that you've made your own, especially in the other poems (because I think they are) for your friends. Thank you.
superplin loves Buffy like I love Buffy.
malisita You're alive like I said you would be. I've missed you.
My mother just gave me a hot cup of ....
corn tea.
corn. tea. these words should never be in a sentence together.
*crawls off to die in a room, swaddled with blankets*
saava, I think part of the reason why I've been so unreasonable and irritated about being sick is that it seems wrong to be sick in summer. Especially in Southern California, where you can see miles of tan and the heat lingering in the air, even after the sun's gone down. When I'm not in my pajamas in dark rooms avoiding the heat, I'm outside running errands, all covered up. I feel ancient.There was a brief respite Sunday morning - I had an Indian champagne brunch with Paul. I actually felt like 22 and not 62 - as we downed mimosas (nine o clock in the morning because we are rebels that way) and I promptly became flushed and giddy and Paul turned red (Asian Drinking at its finest) and we started reminiscing about our high school days. Paul's sister recently graduated from high school and he called me from the ceremony, bitching about it - and apparently there's a thin divide between geeks and nerds and Paul says we are geeks, not nerds. He's been thinking about this a lot, I can tell - and my god, is that a Vulcan handshake?
We bum around suburbia for a bit longer as the Indian restaurant doesn't actually open until 11:30 - we walk into a ToysRUs (our relationship with ToysRus is exactly like a drunk with a bar - we are drawn hopelessly into it even though we know we will probably leave it disappointed and one shoe missing) and this is the scary part of the morning - there are wrestlemania action figures that have squishy chest parts. It feels as if you are pushing in a nipple. And then there is the yellow sticker, taunting us with "Come on, touch it, I DARE YA."
Then there are the poseable figures with one grabbing the hair of the other and the other one leaning back toward the other's crotch. Why have all the toys suddenly become seething figures of homoerotic want?
The Barbies just depress me.
Also, nearly all the action model cars have subtitled packaging in French.
The baby/toddler toys are the coolest toys by far.
After similar roadside attractions at a Patio Furniture Store ("I am going to own a villa in Tuscany, so this is all pretty useless") a Big Five Sporting Goods ("Why are there so many men wearing ties?") we finally end up at the Indian Restaurant. The Indian restaurant has fake ornamental fire, incense and purple as the 'accent' color and a nearly constant stream of Bhangra music videos. They also have the best damn.samosas.ever.
What I love best about Indian cuisine, and by extension Asian cuisine - are the spices and the colors of it. The colors are vivid, the bright yellow and oranges of curry or tandoori chicken against white rice, and the taste is vivid too. I managed a plate and a half and then I made Paul fetch me a honey soaked cheese ball for dessert.
I spent the rest of the day hanging out with his sisters, as Paul had to sleep off all the food - hanging out translating into being clustered around their computer with its broadband connection and downloading Wallace&Gromit shorts and Jo's latest Sark video, and all the Tom McRae mp3s I could for Paul's sister (it is a never ending spiritual journey for me, I swear), and reading Japanese soap opera graphic novels, marvelling at how how one could have eyes the size of dinner plates and still wear hats. Anime boys are all of the much glamorized Eurotrash/adrogynous variety, with one of the popular 'hero' looking much like a Nick Rhodes, only younger and having much better bone structure, and you know, not so short.
Have decided all the marvelously pretty European boys are really Anime Boyfriends in disguise. And to stop deluding the audience - A girl's best friend is her gayboyfriend. So, multimedia giants - take heed - when his eyelashes are that much longer, and you've described him in any way as 'supple' or skin like 'caramel', Juliana doesn't really want him - Roberto does. Their loveissoAbercrombie&Fitch.
Then I came home and I fell back into disarray, if you're being artsy about it - there was a major crash.
This morning, I washed my car (it's not the plague if you can wash your car!) and now I'm finally reading my friends' page and answering some emails.
So in no particular order -
i'm in a 'boys are silly' mood lately, but I would still like to make out with people especially if they followed this regime. Just make out. No shagging. Am not cheap date.
smithereen "He looks like Jimmy Stewart in his younger days" - Dave to a T, I'm sure you'll agree. researchminion You did more than any cough syrup or bedrest could do. Thank you so much - i'm always fascinated by what other people's perceptions are, and well, not once, but twice - I'm lost for words that you've made your own, especially in the other poems (because I think they are) for your friends. Thank you.superplin loves Buffy like I love Buffy.malisita You're alive like I said you would be. I've missed you.My mother just gave me a hot cup of ....
corn tea.
corn. tea. these words should never be in a sentence together.
*crawls off to die in a room, swaddled with blankets*
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