sublingua | |||||
The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
Perfect Shoes Are Just That Easy
Is Your Name...? Wednesday was Kelly's birthday. I spoke to her on the phone. She said, "I think of you often. Everytime I shave my legs in fact." I laughed, said, "Well, I don't know quite what to make of that, but okay!" She said that it had to do with a conversation she, Sue and I had over a year ago. So, as a belated b-day gift, I decided to buy her some all-natural shaving cream and razors with recycled plastic handles. I went into Peacecraft (the organization for which Mitch is now a liason in Asia) to purchase a gift bag for Kelly's gift. As I was checking out, I said to the familiar-looking girl behind the counter, "Is your name Caroline?" She said it was. "Did you go to V_____ High School?" She said yes. "You were friends with Nikki, weren't you?" She was. She didn't remember me (she's kind of blonde, kind of ditzy--but the nicest kind of blonde and ditzy). But it was just that kind of day. What's Your Problem? In fact, it's been a run of those kinds of days. Since Mitch left, I've had this constant kind of low-level deja vu going on. His counselor seemed familiar. People on the street seemed familiar. The woman in my yoga class a few nights ago seemed familiar. It's all too familiar. It's like the Buddhist exercise you can do when you're faced with a problem that seemingly has no solution: You say to yourself, this is like the time I solved this problem. Now all I have to do is remember how to do it. You don't seek a solution--you remember the solution you used before. It works. Try it. So, I think I have the solution. All I have to do is remember what the problem is. Maybe It Has Something To Do With Shoes I am interviewing with the Japanese company and needed a pair of shoes. I visited several places but could find nothing but those "here comes summer and I want to get laid" shoes. You know the ones I'm talking about: The strappy, super-high, fuck-me shoes in pastel colors. I couldn't find a pair of conservative hinting at less conservative pumps with a moderate but sexy heel on them. Also, they had to be leather and not pleather or plastic. I hate plastic shoes with a passion that is wasted, I'll admit, on things like hating plastic shoes. Given that the perfect shoe is elusive, I had almost settled on an only okay pair of slingbacks with this slightly offensive crocodile print inset, but I decided against it because they were too expensive. Today, after dropping Max off at school, I thought: I'll try this shoe store that I've never been in because it seems to sell mostly athletic shoes. I thought: The next shoe store I go into will have the exact pair of shoes that I want. And you guessed it: The conservative but not too conservative pumps with the moderate but sexy heels. In leather. On sale. $21, kids. That's what I paid for the perfect shoe. And man, do I look hot in them. But About The Tattoo... So, given the conservative nature of corporate Japan, I'm wearing a skirt and jacket. You're question should be: Won't a skirt just show off your tattoo? And won't that bar you from the ranks of corporate Japan? Well, yes, yes it will. So I spent a little time this afternoon figuring out how to cover the tat. It can be done. Thank you, Almay and dark hose. No, Thank You I am grateful for perfect shoes, for the symbolic nature of the universe, for a wish granted. I am grateful for Judi, for Kelly, for Max. I am grateful for Al, for Binky, for Groucho. I am grateful for Georgia O'Keefe. I am grateful for sugar snap peas and carob powder. I am grateful for Ron, for coffee, for cloudy days, for antihistamines. I am grateful.
More lies:
|