Wednesday, January 31
"For now we see through a glass, darkly."
1 Corinthians 13:12
We build bridges within our world. Our hands reach out to find that thing that will allow us to connect. Each strand gossamer. Every touch a test. Touch here. Release, look for reaction. Touch there. Repeated again and again.
Each one of us longing to be swept away in the tidal flood of emotion, to be bound by that hand that masters us. To be connected. Enslaved. One.
Have a lovely HNT.
See the man... Os
Saturday, January 27
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was trickling from it. He turned his horse round and took the false bride home again, and said she was not the true one, and that the other sister was to put the shoe on. Then this one went into her chamber and got her toes safely into the shoe, but her heel was too large. So her mother gave her a knife and said, cut a bit off your heel, when you are queen you will have no more need to go on foot. The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the king's son.
And so goes the story of Cinderella, not the sanitized, expurgated versions that our children have been exposed to, but the raw, undiluted versions that were intended for the masses, not necessarily for the tender ears of children.
The Grimm fairytales were much darker than the family friendly renditions that came later. They were full of blood and mutilation, torture and torment. No dancing dwarves, no fairy Godmothers.
As punishment for her wicked ways, a pair of heated iron shoes were brought forth with tongs and placed before the Queen. She was then forced to step into the red-hot shoes and dance until she fell down dead. Snow White
Enough to give a child nightmares. I had forgotten how dark the Grimm stories were. Strange to re-read these stories, so beloved in youth, and realize that they were so dark and nightmarish that I would be doubtful to let young children read them.
Yet they were moral stories and powerful in their convictions.
I wonder if we are not doing our children a disservice by feeding them the watered down versions. After all, we loved them. We learned so much from them. Why should we fear to expose our children to them?
This has been just another drop in the ocean of useless knowledge.
Snow, Glass, Apples:
the story of Snow White
Wednesday, January 24
Take this Magic 8 Ball and partake of it, For it is the cell of my one true plastic living brain. Ask it what questions you might have. It holds the answers to all of the questions in the Universe.
This is the Magic 8 Ball I gave to O. With it she will be able to write a post - someday.
And the Babelfish said...
"For a moment, nothing happened. Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen."
Kind of like waiting for her to post...
This month past has gone by in a haze. It has left an impression that I can only equate with taste, at moments very much like a piece of caramel, left on the tongue to melt and linger, at others a hot latte, brilliant and gone too quickly.
Her wit is quick, so exotic and different from the local population that they cannot help but draw to her, the novelty of wicked rejoinders and tinkling laughter has been a magnet wherever we go.
Last night it was a Brazilian party, the night before shopping and movies in Lenox Square. We've had lunch with a friend at La Madeline and gone to my favorite cigar bar for billiards and lager.
And I have been greedy with every moment, not wanting to share my treasure with the locals who seem to vacillate between laborious clinging and adulatory gawking.
We've settled into a routine for this extended vacation. When I have to work I turn her over to our friend and he shows her a bit of the town or she works on the projects that need to be finished before her return. We three have fallen into a comfortable program in which we spend time together and also separately.
So you can imagine my surprise when after lunch the other day I was talking to her and found myself complaining about sharing her. It was a bitter pill that spilled forth, some unexpected schoolyard jealousy that had managed to creep its way into my conversation. 'Do you like spending time with him more than you do with me?' Hard swallow... where had that come from? And what followed was an abbreviated jeremiad that did nothing to help further the case that I was not so much jealous as envious that I couldn't be there too.
She stroked my hair and reassured me that she was treasuring every moment we spend together and that she is making plans for me to come home with her. A short visit, but an extension of our time together.
We went and ate crabs. I taught her how to tear them open and we shared an afternoon of buttery fingers and strong beer. She was delighted, whoever would have thought it could be so much fun to tear things apart and eat them? I was touched by the whole affair. She is always impeccable, her manners, her speech, the only word that comes to mind is refined. It was bliss to watch her eyes light up as she loosened up and marvelled at the new wonders around her.
Some of her firsts while here...
My notes and her responses follow:
First visit to a Walmart.
She didn't say anything, just walked around for an hour with her mouth open. This is why we call it a Stupor Store instead of a Super Store. Then she asked where the sex toy section is.
First sighting of a real outhouse.
Robert Poste Child, I saw something nasty in the woodshed.
First time eating grits.
What is a grit?
First time eating gravy and biscuits.
How do y'all live past thirty?
First visit to a Waffle House.
Could I please have some clean silverware?
Places we have visited:
The Love Shack
The Atlanta Aquarium
Centennial Olympic Park
Little Five Points
The Big Chicken
This is actually the home of an elderly couple. It is mostly underground with only the top level and spires above ground.
Weird things we have been talking about...
The Centralia Pennsylvania Fire. The coal mines there have been burning since 1962. "There are no current plans to extinguish the fire, which is consuming an eight-mile seam containing enough coal to fuel it for 250 years."
The Black Dahlia was kept alive and tortured for three days before dying of the lacerations to her face and trauma to the head. Both of her legs were broken and there was fecal matter found in her stomach. O is such a wealth of useless knowledge.
There were actually only 19 people hanged during the Salem Witch trials, I always thought there were more?
Movies we have seen.
Notes on a Scandal.
Our time together has now come to an end and I miss her already.
Wanna watch us Scrabble hO?
Just check here...
You can find our game listed under either woodnotwood or eroslogos, depending on who won the last game. This is an on-going tournament. It has been for two years. We have no plans of stopping - It is now a war of attrition.
Sunday, January 7
Things have begun to return to a more normal pattern here.
I have a second job waitressing at a local restaurant, it's a fun place to work and the tips are great. It's something that I missed doing while I've been taking care of things at home. I've missed the regulars that come in to see me and I've missed the friends I work with. It's just a few hours of work, but I really enjoy doing it.
It felt good to get back out again. To get back on schedule. To feel a part of the throng of humanity. To once again become a part of the pulse of my hometown.
I'm waiting for O's arrival. She'll be here to celebrate my birthday with me. We've been talking on the phone like two excited school girls while we made our plans. We're going to have a blast!
The first thing we'll be doing is having lunch with Para (formerly of Chilli Talk). He's become a great friend and we are both thrilled to have O along to make up our threesome.
We'll let you know about all of the naughty things we get up to ;)