Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Gross Me Out

My friend Jessica was in town this past weekend and she stopped by my office late Friday afternoon. We dashed out to get a cup of coffee and she put her leftover sesame/garlic kale on a remote corner of my desk which I promptly forgot about. Until this morning when I walked into the office to be greeted by what can only be described as a garlic punch to the face. The saddest part is that it was a felicitous replacement to the bathroom smell that seems to have seized the entire building. In these hard economic times, they've had to cut way back on our custodial services. It's taking its toll.

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In other news... On the way back from the coffee shop last night, I chose to walk a side of the street I don't usually engage and on the sidewalk (I'd like to apologize in advance for the sheer repugnance I'm about to divulge) is what looks to be a rather fresh pile of vomit or, slightly more frightening, oh please don't make me say it... okay, diarrhea. Not that surprising in the city, right? But wait, here's the weird part, it's always there. Every time I've walked that side of the street, that pile of "stuff" is there. So here's the most logical explanation. It has always been there because it's permanent and doesn't wash away. It is a stain or an imperfection that just bears an uncanny resemblance to fresh diarrhea. Granted, I've never given it a close inspection. (I hope that goes without saying.) But if this is some sort of optical illusion, it's a really good one. So to clarify, when I say it looks "fresh", I'm saying it looks as though it would go [squish] if it came in contact with, say, the bottom of a shoe. I'm assuming though admittedly with no actual experience in this matter, that over time squishy things will tend to wash away, harden, petrify or in some way cease to be "squishy" anymore. So if we go with the assumption that it is indeed the same pile of putrescence based on the fact that it is in the exact same spot and that it is also fresh based on aforementioned squishiness have we not created a strange paradox?

But what if it's not a simple or logical explanation. What if this pile is someone's idea of "street art" and late at night or early morning this someone goes out to that space on the sidewalk and places some sort of home concoction very precisely. Probably not. But, it's a mystery I rather like unsolved, I must say. I think what I take away from all this is... walking a different path even if it's just a few yards away is always a good idea, but you might want to watch your step.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Cough Cough

I always take it so personally when I get sick, as if it's a character flaw. If I had been stronger, I would have won. If I took better care of myself... Maybe that's because my mother always said that to me growing up. Anytime I got sick, "You should take better care of yourself." Hey, you know what, Mom? Sometimes the germs just win.

I'm not sure I can stay home from work two days in a row. Lying in bed is NOT something I do well, or maybe it's something I do too well. But please allow me to clarify in case anyone out there was confused. Lying around, and doing absolutely nothing worthwhile whatsoever does not, repeat NOT, fill the creative well, so to speak. No. More accurately, it drains the well, spits in it, throws in a dead baby bird and moons it just for spite.

Flashback: I'm in the bathroom of our LA hotel room putting on make-up while Bethie sits on the disinfected tile floor painting my toenails. We're running late. We're running late for what will turn out to be a rehearsal dinner for my mother's wedding. We don't know it's a rehearsal dinner because we don't yet know that the birthday party for my mother's fiance we flew in for is ACTUALLY a surprise wedding. (You'd think a mother might tell her only daughter, but you'd be wrong.) But the point of all of this is, not a gorgeous beach wedding complete with billowing white tents and tables in the sand, but that my dearest friend in all the world is painting MY toenails (my feet already in my sandals) so that I can finish getting ready for dinner. This is a true friend. The very same friend that yesterday brought me a care package of tiger lilies, orange pudding, orange sherbet and orange soda just because I was sick and orange is my favorite color.