Playing with idioms
September 4, 2009
Personality Purchases
August 29, 2009
What were your last three online purchases?
What do these items reflect about you? The investments could possibly suggest an eccentric taste in film, a secret interest in paleontology or a tea cup fetish.
My last three online purchases:
Bathtub Crayons
Book: How to Raise a Millipede
A Jump Rope of Speed
I think best in the shower, and my memory mirrors that of a fly. I need to transfer thoughts on the tile while shaving the legs.
Also, crayon messages are an excellent way to doodle friendly notes for the roommates: “We need more toilet paper … have a good day!”
I’m still waiting for a millipede. Possibly a friend or sibling will get the hint and deliver it this Christmas.
I’m preparing for a winter hibernation, and I refuse to let the cold hinder my exercise regimen. I will jump rope in my TV room. Measurements were taken, and there are a few inches of space to spare.
I shared my latest splurges. What are yours?
I’m buying a house.
August 24, 2009
Go wild. Color in your Dream House and send it to me.
Grandma Stromatolite’s Gift
August 19, 2009
September 13, 2009 -
It’s approaching. Insert National Grandparents’ Day into your planner.
After you send flowers to Florida, don’t forget your Great, Great, (add a million more Greats) Great Grandma, Mrs. Stromatolite.
The Precambrian rock may not play a weekly Bridge game, but the ancient lady’s cozy home is always open in Western Australia.
On this day of gratitude for the elderly, we should thank Grandma Stroma for the oxygen she gave our atmosphere thousands of millions of years ago. Without this gift, you and I would not be here today.
I’m easily amused
August 10, 2009
My stallion at Kennywood Amusement Park
The best gift I’ve received recently is a plastic toy.* I lit up as soon as I saw the striped animal waiting for me in my old bedroom.
I don’t need much. My parents have given me a lot already. During the holidays, my family bypasses extravagant gift exchanges.
We’ve simplified with no regrets.
Surprises are still in the game plan. Unbeknownst to me, my mom recognized my odd obsession with zebras. Giving me a zebra was her way of showing me maternal love. The toy cost less than five bucks, but it has already entertained me for endless hours.
I’m easily amused.
While we’re in the mood to give, I do need a name for this stallion. I feel like he will appear in a lot of photos as I venture out.
*The Barbie Dream House may top the list.
Quotes are silly
August 5, 2009
Sisters ... I'm on the right.
Quotes are wise. But pictures are the truth.
I could find a billion quotes from the most worldly women on this planet, but nothing compares to a simple photograph. This particular photo shows sisterhood beyond any written word whispered to me.
Aren’t we lucky that we can play with both words and images?
Be a kid with Laffin’ Sal
July 29, 2009
Laffin' Sal in Kennywood Amusement Park
My great-grandparents fell in love among the wooden roller coasters in Kennywood Amusement Park. Or maybe it was lust.
It’s been twelve years since my family and I have played in Kennywood Park near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. We made it back last weekend.
The numerous historic landmarks, such as the toothless Laffin’ Sal, deliver quirky character to the grounds much like Coney Island. “Laffin’ Sal debuted at Kennywood in 1931 as a free attraction in front of Laff in the Dark. It was during the Great Depression and provided some of the best medicine available in that sad period – Laughs.
“When the ride was razed in 1965 to make room for the Turnpike, Sal went into retirement – in a storage bin. But life began again in her 40′s and she has been laughing ever since” -Kennywood plaque
Next time your inner-child plays hide-n-seek and doesn’t come back out, visit Laffin’ Sal. Listen to her ancient cackle and stare into her dead-eyes. Your intrinsic-kid will reappear and either tremble with fear or laugh hysterically. My tyke chose the latter.
I sound like I’m 87-years-old, but new parks do not compare to this rich landmark; you feel the history and magical aura of previous generations in the air. Or maybe that’s just the aroma drifting from the Potato Patch. Either way, it’s delightful.
Mating call
July 28, 2009
His nose is loaded with lotion. My nose is hidden inside of a book.
I’ve been quiet.
The best feature of reading is re-reading. A favorite book of mine entered my realm post-College and pre-European Adventure. I needed a few “bus books” for the trip, and I stumbled across a good one: The Girl’s Guide To Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank.
The story follows Jane through her relationships with the most important men in her life: Father, Brother, First Love, Idealistic Love, Oodles of Lovers in Between, and the Real Love. The witty writing makes you light up, and the reality of truth, in the storyline, makes you dim down.
Bank reminds you of all that is “beautiful and funny and sad and true.”
Every time I re-read, I revel.
On the beach, Linda became her social-scientist self and said, “At the top of the social hierarchy is the blond man on the elevated white chair. The symbolic throne.”
“I believe the common term ‘lifeguard’ signifies his desire to copulate,” I said, “i.e., to guard the perpetuation of the species.”
“Note that he paints his nose white,” she said. “Not unlike the chiefs of many sub-Saharan tribes.”
The lifeguard stood up and blew his whistle.
I said, “Mating call.”
-The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank
Organs of a gypsy soul named Rose
July 15, 2009
Artwork by Rose Coffman - Lakewood, Colorado
“I feel like I am a collection of organs and body tissue, and thoughts and dreams, and no one ever hears what I’m trying to convey. The message gets twisted somewhere along my Gemini wiring and the real world, and I am left wondering what all the effort was for. Also, I have a sense that even I am not hearing myself in the constant pursuit of Domestic Plasticity and Security, y’know? As though I choose to crush my original thoughts because of their lack of political correctness. Or the damage they might do to the life I am trying to build.” -Rose
Art by Rose
The incredible artist, Rose Coffman, describes herself as Italian, Woman, Gemini, and slightly crazy. The gypsy soul designs custom tarot cards and charcoal portraits. Rose recently donated most of her art collection to the CASA Foundation to make room in her gallery. If you take one look at her work, you can feel the height of her creative energy. I have a personal obsession with zebras which makes this work my favorite. ZEBRA.
Cut off the endorphins, please
July 14, 2009
Holly and I running in a high school cross country race. I'm on the right. Holly was about to pass me.
A lot of endorphins are swimming in my body. These e-friends of mine are playing Marco Polo and having a fabulous time. My endo-folk inspire me to thank the running goddesses for the gem of a sport. While on this high, I want to share a few symbols of why I think running is heavenly.
∞ Your legs will escort you on a tour of cities, greenery, humanity, and sound. It only costs you your joints.
≈ Passing other joggers on a trail is empowering. We all know it feels good. Blow past all of those slackers.
∑ Getting lapped around the Central Park Reservoir is purely humbling. The FDNY t-shirt guy flew by me three times today!
± Mud. Plunge into it. Rainy running days are sublime. Don’t be dainty. Get attention with the glob afterwards
√ Regardless of your frustration level, your suffering will decrease after a wistful run. Woes will not be cured, but you will feel a few centimeters happier.
¿ Runner’s High. You won’t get it any other legal way.
∩ I know it’s not considered a “team sport” per se … but I have always felt united with other runners. Speed doesn’t bond, but pain and passion does. We’re out there doing it. It hurts. And we unexplainably love it.
∂ Every single person can own it.* You can conquer the one-million mile race, and it’s your gift. You can be a novice and jog as slow as molasses for two minutes. It’s still your gift. No one can take that away from you.
¬ Running is a beautiful reminder that life is short. My body may not be able to run in thirty years or maybe in two years. I do not know. I will savor it while I’ve got it.
Holly Kearl, the runner I’m pictured with above, is the most passionate runner I have ever met. We trained together in high school, and she continues racing today despite various injuries along the way. Holly never ran for awards or popularity, she did it out of pure elation.
Running is in her blood. It always will be.
Holly and me = running buddies
Holly is the founder of Stop Street Harassment, a website that helps end gender-based public harassment and assault.
Share your passion for sports. Actually, share your passion for anything! I’d love to hear your story. Email TheMathematicsofGlamour@hotmail.com.
*Obviously, there are exceptions.
