This may surprise those of you who know that I don’t want children of my own, but when I see kids in restaurants and cafes and on the street and in kiddie seats on bikes, I have this irresistible urge to STARE AT THEM.
Stare at their cuteness. Stare at the cute things they do. Laugh when they laugh. Feel sad when they cry. Wave at them, smile at them, probably freak them out because ‘WHY IS THAT STRANGE LADY STARING AT ME?‘. I just love them and love to see them and watch them.
(Dear Uterus, Don’t even think about it.)
So when I was walking today in town and I saw this CUTE little girl on this CUTE little pink scooter, I couldn’t help but stare. She was maybe 3 years old, had the cutest hair, was wearing adorable clothes, and of course was riding this teensy hot pink scooter.
She was the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
We passed the family and made it down the street and around the corner before I broke down and just HAD to go back and ask for a photo. I didn’t want to be all stalker-ish and HI CAN I TAKE A PHOTO OF YOUR CHILD? because I’m not a parent and even I can see how creepy that is. So instead I raved about how cute the scooter was (which is true) and asked could I take a photo of the scooter?
I have a (largely neglected) bike blog so it wasn’t completely unwarranted and I did want a photo of the scooter, but when they pulled her off the scooter so I could take a photo of it, my heart kind of broke. I kinda sorta wanted a photo of her AND the scooter.
Here is the scooter, in case you were wondering. And over there in the corner to the left, protesting because she was taken off of her scooter, is the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen.
Her legs anyway.
She's thinking 'please lady don't steal my scooter...'
Seriously though, isn’t that the raddest little scooter you’ve ever seen?
…Or is it just me and my affinity for miniature things?
* Perhaps I could have chosen a more properly phrased intro statement…
I’m not feeling very cheerful lately, so the most I can come up with is that things are shitty right now and I need a complete overhaul in my life. New surroundings, new outlook on life, new right arm, new gym regime, etc. I’m feeling much less than 100%, and it’s time to get back to the top.
Because you are fantastic and deserve a bit of diversion (I won’t even ask why you’re not working right now), I’ll leave you with this:
A flashback to just under 2 weeks ago when I could hold a camera up with my right arm and do my own hair!
Ah the good old days. I miss that girl.
This mask is the Lush fresh BB Seaweed mask. Nice if you’ve been harsh to your face and need something gentle, or want a calming mask that will refresh your skin even though you don’t have major skin problems to deal with. I liked it and it did the job well, but I’m not in the mood to rave about it right now, if you catch me.
Hm. Maybe I should save my blogging for strictly cheerful times.
One of my all-time favorite blog posts was one that I wrote back in 2006 about ex-boyfriends and those instances in the relationship where I realised that things were coming to a close. Those wake-up moments that made me go, ‘What the hell am I doing with this guy?‘*
I’m sure at the time these instances were sad, or serious, or scary sometimes, but hindsight is just frickin hilarious, and I had fun writing the blog.
However, what really sealed the deal for me was the amazing response I got from friends about similar experiences that they had. The comments on this blog are hilarious (see for yourself).
Ladies, what are we THINKING sometimes?!
It’s been a few years, but as a friend suggested, I decided to give that subject its own blog, so I kindly present to you:
Please go read, laugh, and if you have anything to contribute, PLEASE DO! And send the link to any other girls that you know who might appreciate a good laugh, or have something to add themselves.
* I have to once again reiterate (like I did in 2006) that I have actually had a pretty nice relationship history. I’m still friends with most of my exes and wish them nothing but happiness and love and luck and all that ish. But it’s all about comic relief, baby.
I’ve invented a new arm sling, and it took me- no lie here- 437 photos to get a good enough shot to show you. I know that’s a tad ridiculous, but how many one-armed photographers do you know?
Alrighty then.
Behold! It’s The Sling of The Future:
Damnit why is that so small? No matter. Let’s try that again, and this time I won’t even try to crop out the dirty clothes in the background, because you totally didn’t notice them anyway, did you? And you won’t specifically look for them in the next photo, will you?
I love your honesty.
BEHOLD! THE SLING OF THE FUTURE:
The sling: It wraps around your body instead of hanging from your neck, because sometimes gravity hurts. Like now, with me, and this arm. But this sling is helping. I call it The Hug Yourself Sling. I think this is going to make me millions.
Pros of the Hug Yourself Sling: It doesn’t hang from your neck, which means gravity doesn’t pull down on your rotator cuff.
Cons: Your hand quickly begins to smell funktastic because it is also wrapped up, and I can tell people get the distinct impression that my whole arm must be deformed.
But I consider that last one more of a funny pro actually.
I should really get over this trend of posting cute animals, but when I saw this photo I gasped ‘AW!’ so loud that Dave thought I had hurt my arm worse. I just had to share it.
<3
Did you just say ‘aw’ too? You know you did.
I found this, by the way, on AJCupcake’s Tumblr blog. I’m not hip enough to the interwebs lingo to understand what tumblr is exactly or why I can’t post a comment on those blogs, but if you’re reading this AJCupcake, I must thank you for posting that photo- it is beyond adorable. Oh and I just added you on Twitter in case you were wondering who that was!
I promise that this is the last post where I mention my arm (because have you heard? It hurts. wwaahhh!).
So I’m lying here laid up in bed, arm resting gingerly on pillows, using ice packs, hot packs, painkillers THAT DON’T WORK, and trying hard not to focus on the constant pain throbbing in my shoulder- basically taking all the advice given to me by everyone (thanks by the way!).
And you know what is helping the most? My stellar reputation is totally going to be tarnished here when I admit this, but what is helping to distract me the most is watching back-to-back episodes of ‘Rock of Love’.
I know. I’m not even going to dignify this with a photo. If you don’t know it, please google it so you can better understand my shame.
But here’s the thing: Here I lay, in the same pajamas as yesterday, hair a mess, body odor ripening, immobile, half in tears and totally in pain- just so pathetic you can’t imagine.
And then I watch these girls trying so hard to woo Brett Michaels, being complete bimbos and total trash whores, and a tiny flicker of hope warms my soul. There are people in this world WAY more pathetic than I’ll ever be. I ain’t got shit on them bitches.
I had never even heard of this show until I read about it on Jen’s blog (actually Jen was blogging about the spinoff show Daisy of Love which I’m sure I’ll get to as this shoulder appears to be taking its sweet time healing), so if you are going to blame anyone, blame her! Personally I think you should all thank her as she has inadvertently spared you a 3,000 word post about how FUCKING PAINFUL a rotator cuff can be when it turns on you.
‘When Rotator Cuffs Turn Bad‘ next on Dr Phil.
All the episodes of Rock of Love can be found here including loads of extras and behind the scenes takes. Double the craptastic- double the fun!
I just realized that I started a post a few days ago with the title ‘On Organizing My Life’ fully intending to write about just that subject but instead got distracted by taiko concert updates and interesting talks with hackers. Three cheers for stream of conscious blogging!
Am I going to blog about it now?
Nope!
I just got back from the hospital after I decided that this arm pain was no longer funny. From my door to the hospital (by tram) and back home again, including waiting and seeing the doctor, was a total of just one hour and 45 minutes. Is that fast or what?
A student doctor and a big-kid doctor all poked and lifted my arm, inducing all sorts of searing pain over and over again. It took all I could muster not to cry or spit. Dave grabbed my good hand as if to hold it in a supportive gesture after reading the grimaces on my face, but I know that he was really holding it to stop me from lashing out and slapping the good doctor’s face.
Conclusion?
Inconclusive.
Fantastic!
So that hour and 45 minutes: Was it incredibly efficient, or a complete waste of my time? I’m typing this with one hand, so you decide.
Only twice in my life before now have I felt pain so intense that it made me sick to my stomach. (Here is one story where it even made me pass out.) But I have spent the last few days with a pain in my shoulder so intense that at separate times it has made me feel like crying, puking, and just staying in bed for the day.
The hand itself is alright, it’s just the movement of the arm that is gone now. So I can grab something, but not reach for it. To grab the TV remote I had to crawl my hand across the couch for it, dragging the dead arm behind it.
I may as well be Thing from the Addams Family.
All I need now is that little skateboard and I'm set.
A friend had to help me out of my clothes last night before bed, and then early this morning when the only other person awake was my flatmate Andrew, I even considered getting him to help me put my shirt on before I realized that it would be a tad inappropriate. Instead I just cried for a moment and then slowly- ever so slowly- slipped my shirt on like the oldest woman in the world.
I’ll get to a physiotherapist soon, but in the meantime I have been told that I look like that dude with the creepy arm from Scary Movie 2:
Welcome to Lush. Would you like to smell our lovely hand cream?
Typing this is becoming a chore as I have to pick my right hand up with my left and move it around the keyboard every so often nevermind about the difficulty of using the mouse, so think I’ll go and whine in the corner for a while until someone feels sorry enough/gets fed up enough to run to the store and buy me some sorbet.
The taiko show last night was fantastic. I was so excited to see it I literally had butterflies in my stomach on the bike ride there.
It ended up being beautiful, moving, and actually pretty funny as well. I highly recommend seeing them if they are coming to your area! It also gave me a taste of Japan again after so long, so I appreciated that aspect of it as well.
Here is a tiny taste, less than 10 seconds, because it’s best if you see it live for yourself:
In other news, I just met my first hacker!
Actually, I have known him for some time but never knew that he was a hacker. So I spent some time picking his brain, because people who are good at beating the system fascinate me.
OK, enough music videos for awhile, I know that can get annoying.
I woke up today with a happy bug up my ass and I just can’t shake it (not that I would want to). Maybe it’s because I went to bed at about 8 pm last night and slept through to this morning making it…..give me a second….14 and a half hours of precious, lovely, non-stop sleep.
Or maybe it’s because I am going to a show tonight! That’s right! I’m puttin’ on my fancy clothes and steppin’ out to the Carré theater for the Yamato Taiko show.
Taiko is Japanese drumming, on drums placed on the floor in front of you or that you wear around your neck, or on the ōdaiko- the big-ass mother of a drum that you have to play with both arms in the air, like this dude:
Grimace optional.
Or this chick:
Screaming totally necessary.
During the year that I spent in Japan (back in the old ’98), my host mother and I took a taiko class in the village. Our teacher was an accomplished taiko drummer, and he worked us pretty hard.
Within a few classes I was hooked, and my love of all kinds of percussion was born.
I love the raw tribal sound of taiko, the energy that you need to play it, and the communal spirit of a group of people playing on the drums together.
Here we are playing at our village summer festival. As if you needed me to point me out here, I am the tall white girl wearing a blue men’s shirt because all of the red women’s shirts were too small for me. I swear the guy tied my belt specifically to make me look pregnant, despite my horrified protests.
She bangs the drum.
This was over ten years ago (back when cameras were disposable and utterly SHIT at taking photos at night), and I can still remember some of our opening beats. Curiously enough, it started out sounding like the opening to ‘Cannonball’ by the Breeders- those few seconds right after the ‘Check-check. A-wooooooooo‘ and before the bass kicks in.
Are you still with me? (Total kudos to you if you are.)
So needless to say, when I found out that a taiko show was coming to Amsterdam, I was all over that like white on rice.
Somehow, I think this show will be a little bit different than my village taiko show.
