Wednesday, August 1, 2001
9PM
Prepare for DC Six Flags America.
Pull out change of clothes.
Swim suits, dry towels.
Sun screen. And
open new box of Tampax.
36 count. Despite
what the calendar says, despite giving blood the day before, my
period has begun. Just
like on my wedding day. Lovely
timing. Omens and all
that.
9:15PM
Decide to put away basket of underwear, socks and bras laundered and
folded that afternoon on Friday.
Pull of CD player and car adapter for trip.
Choose CD's. Include
Mary Black, Sting and Eric Clapton in vain hope that 3
teenagers will allow me to play something other than NOW
4, NOW 5,
and NOW 6. Almost
44 year old brains are do not have the capacity
to tolerate 5 hours of Back Street Boys, In Sync and Brittany
Spears.
9:30PM
Say good night to mom and dogs, hit the sack early.
Thursday, August 2
6AM
Awake to canine alarm clocks, who anticipate real alarm clock by 30
minutes. Was in middle
of dream, influenced by Ursula LeGuin's Earthsea trilogy.
Concept of "true name" figures prominently in
dream. Consider, then
discount possibility, that true name is "Mrs. Derek Jacobi".
6:02AM
During walk downstairs, notice little bits of paper strewn on steps.
Let dogs out front door.
Notice more paper in hallway. Reach kitchen.
When turning coffeepot on, step on slimy, cigar-shaped wad of
white cotton.
6:03AM
Put glasses on. Pick up
wad of cotton. Notice
teeth marks.
6:04AM
Look around downstairs. Notice
many similar wads of cotton strew through downstairs family room and
kitchen.
6:05AM
Walk back to upstairs bathroom.
Discover box of Tampons has been disturbed. Nine remain in
box.
6:06AM
Am much more awake. Am much more angry.
Walk back downstairs to pour coffee.
Pick up 3 chewed tampons on steps.
Discover 5 more in kitchen, 4 in small family room.
Notice basket of laundry has been turned on its side.
6:10AM
Pour coffee. Consider adding shot of whiskey.
Wait, glaring at back door, for dogs.
6:12AM
Drink coffee by back door, willing dogs to return by telepathic
power. Notice black, lacy object in backyard, resting
on grass beside slimy, cigar-shaped wad of white cotton.
6:13AM
Turn on back porch light to aid view of back yard shrouded in fog.
Step outside to investigate black, lacy object.
6:14AM
Black lacy object is favorite black bra. Bra is apparently not as
interesting as tampons, though some neighbors may disagree.
Notice that fancy lace work attaching straps to front cups
has been mangled on one side.
6:15AM
Walk back toward house. Step
in dew covered dog poop.
6:16AM
Clean foot. Wonder if
tensile strength of bra support mechanism is seriously affected if
left 36-C cup breast is held by 1 strand of lace and right 36-C cup
breast is held by 3 strands. Wonder
if breast would look
leftsided. Consider
making new fashion statement, then discard thinking as wishful
rather than pragmatic. Wonder if left leaning breasts would
make politics more left leaning. Consider possibilty of
alienating conservative friends. Discard possibility. Recall
that conservatives are more concerned with money that sex.
6:19AM
Finished most of first mug of coffee.
Accounted for 32 of 36 tampons.
6:25AM
Gaze peacefully in backyard drinking second mug of coffee.
Consider famous saying that life is a work of art.
Wonder when Jackson Pollack took charge of mine.
Notice new hole dug by dog near edge of property.
Realize small bits of white paper lie near hole.
7:30AM
Pick up teenage travel companions.
Stop at gas station to pick up new box of tampons.
Lie to teenage boys. Make
up story about sunscreen.
11:10PM
Pull into driveway. Having
listed to 5 hours of Back Street Boys, In Sync and Brittany Spears,
hope dogs are in driveway, available to be run over.
11:12PM
Greeted
by dogs who conclude that we have been gone for 67 years.
Decide to allow them to live another day.
Decide that Life by Jackson Pollack is just fine after all.