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April 14, 2004

In dreams

Aboard a beautiful boat, an ocean liner. Shiny hardwood everywhere.
Someone stands in a picturesque cabin, pouring over a huge seaman's map.
It's Rob Lowe, dressed as British officer from the Revolutionary War...
Red coat, cornered hat and all.
Feathers.

"So, you've been turning right every time when they say 'hard right'? Didn't you go to navy school at all? Don't you know it's all backwards?"
he says, the incredulity of his voice hanging thickly in the air.

I don't really know what he means by this, and know even less about sailing than the average person, so this could be true or not. It's probably not.

Cut to huge amounts of whitewater pouring over the deck - people scurrying around, running down huge shining staircases like schools of fish - but not with an air of fear or panic. More to avoid getting wet.

And I'm discussing with someone a circumstance that involves getting a ticket to Missouri on the fly. In the moment it seems totally sensible, and worth it. Just to nip down to Missouri for something. Come right back. No problem. What?

Posted by kati at 06:56 AM

April 09, 2004

Spring broken

It doesn't matter if you're the most talented and revered actor in all the land...
You still look like a jackass while warming up. That's just a fact.

And day by day I'm learning that opera singers, while warming up, sound a lot like dying cats.

But it's important to do. Looking really stupid should always precede looking good.
Keeps you humble, I guess.

I've got the looking stupid part down. So down. I champion the stupid-lookers.

Posted by kati at 02:28 PM

April 07, 2004

Everybody'a gotta learn sometime

I discovered some correspondence from my little gnome friend this morning. A tiny note, beside a tiny hat and scarf, all neatly folded of course. It read as such:

" Summering in Bali,
I was not meant to stay in one place for long.
For we gnomes are silly creatures,
and our affections swift and fickle.
Please do not write.
- Your onetime sockdrawer friend"

At first, I was disheartened to read such things. I guess I had already assumed he was off on his travels, but I was a little saddened to know for sure. But then, I came around. Surely, my sock drawer has nothing on the delightful balmy pleasures that Bali has to offer. It was nice of him to let me know. Thoughtful. He must have known I was wondering.

I will honor his request, to a degree - for though I will not write to him, I will write of him at my discretion, as I have done in this instance.

But this may, perhaps, be the last time I do so. I do not know for sure.
What I do know is that I have moved all my socks and underthings to a new drawer, so that the old one can remain closed until I have forgotten why I closed it in the first place.
Should he ever return, he would find his old drawer colder and less welcoming that it had been before. But I don't really think he will.

Perhaps he'll peer in through my window some night on his return from the Pacific, loaded down with pint sized suitcases and a tiny gnome camera slung around his neck. His cold weather gear of old exchanged for bright blue and yellow floral prints, shell necklaces, leather sandals. Small, small sandals. Perhaps he'll reflect one day on the time he spent in my drawer, want to jump out and scare me, or think of I joke I would laugh at. Or maybe he's gone for good. Cozying up in the drawer of some friendly islander, surrounded by the scents of bananas and coconuts, or in a hammock somewhere. Maybe he's forgotten my drawer completely by now.

I do not know, in truth, and soon enough I will not care.
But anything's possible.

Posted by kati at 01:05 PM

April 01, 2004

Cat calls

"It's ridiculous...
but it's true!"
--Mitch Hedberg

So, all of us women out there are aware that certain men like to holler out of windows or cars at members of the opposite sex. The reason for this still escapes me somewhat. I'm sure it's happened to most/all of us girls at some point, as it seems that the men aren't even too discriminatory at who they bestow their unsolicited attention upon. I've often wondered why do they do that? Do they really think we're going to stop in our tracks and yell "Hi! I'm available! You want to go out sometime?!" But no, we usually just lower our heads and continue walking, pretending nothing has even happened. At least, that's what I do.

Here's the weird thing. Yesterday, on my way to work, I was hitting every red light and moving at a snail's pace. The fortunate thing, however, was that I was continually passing, and alternately being passed by, a gorgeous man on the sidewalk.

Let it be said here and now that I have a very selective palate when it comes to men I find attractive. Undeniably, it is too selective which accounts for me being alone most of the time. But the average guy, about 90% of them, just doesn't do it for me.
This one did. He was B-E-A-UTIFUL! I was so delighted watching him walk around that I didn't even mind the traffic.

And then something totally bizarre happened. I don't know what, really. Maybe it was my euphoric pre-work mood, maybe it was the high induced by my uninhibited car-dancing to Rick Astley (something about a skinny redheaded man with that kind of bass voice and glorious 80's beats just gets me going, you know...) or maybe it was just a total loss of sanity, but I turned out my open window and hollered

"Yeeeeeowwwww! Looking GOOD!"

The man immediately turned around. I went purple with humiliation. WHAT HAD I JUST DONE?! I had just yelled out my car window at a hot guy.... and now here I was at a stoplight and he had turned around and was looking right at me. Oh God Oh God Oh God...

Suppressing every instinct I had to hit the floorboards of my truck until the light changed, I realized I had to face up to my cat call. This hottie already knew it was me, and there was no point trying to escape the shame I knew was coming. So I swallowed my pride, plastered a huge grin on my face, and .... waved.

What happened next boggled me entirely.
Super Hot Guy, upon seeing my sheepish wave, broke out into the broadest smile I have ever seen. He then returned my wave with the enthusiasm of a 5-year-old waving at Santa Claus in the mall. I started laughing, and then so did he. I then whistled at the man, after which he took a bow and then doubled over with laughter. I was almost crying I was laughing so hard at this point. The light changed, I waved again. He waved back as I drove away ... and then it was all over.

God he was SO HOT! And if I had any sense about me I would have pulled over immediately and gotten his number. But I didn't. I guess I was just reeling from the fact that I had yelled out my window at a boy, and that he had liked it.

Maybe I was being too harsh on the guys who have yelled at me. Maybe it's a practice I should try and implement more often.
Maybe not, though.

Posted by kati at 04:21 PM