Friday Funday even though it says Thursday.
Today is Friday Funday (tm). In many, though probably not most, people's lives, it's the day before the weekend. For me, it's just the day before my partner's weekend. And he works all weekend. So it's just a day, and it's a day ahead of Thursday for sure.
This is a small island nation. There are not many people. I am not from here. The clouds move quickly overhead, but that is not why we are a day ahead of a lot of the world.
The wind has not shifted in almost a week. It is blowing steadily from the north. The antipodean winter is not the beast that all had claimed. Instead it's more like the lamb, of which there are many here, and even billboards along the road highlighting a little, white, fluffy lamb named "Maggie" who will be this season's spring cuisine. How sick is that? Everyone line up for chow: it's Maggie tonight.
On Fridays, I admit, I still wake up a little more juiced up, as if there was some great carnival coming to town and we got backstage passes. This morning, in particular, I thought, "oh yeah!" because I had an appointment. I have something in the old day planner and it's going to take me out of the house and into the Volvo and down the road to ... the doctor's office! Sweet. I updated some vaccinations for my imminent travel plans and didn't cry when the *student* nurse gave me a tetanus shot (even though it really did hurt) and though there was a whole bucket of lollipops, I didn't take one because sometimes the lack of dental hygiene in this country gets me down, and I don't want to be doubly down should I lose my own front teeth before 35. I like those teeth. The make it okay to say things like teeth and thigh and thicket.
Yesterday should have been the day that got me up with a gasp except that it was so damn early when my alarm rang that the gasp was inaudible over the collective snoring of the entire city. When was the last time I got up at 5:30? Dear sweet lord of goodness, at the fifth hour of morning, there is no light, no sound, no warmth. Even the bay was silent, relaxing in a nice respite from that northerly wind. I only got up then to see if I could, since I will have to when I am out there in the world on my own, attempting to do yoga in these bowels of the day. But since I was up, I decided to make it to the extras gig I had lined up way over in Island Bay. I got to be a "hotel patron" for a show that will be called "The Lost Children" and will air somewhere, someday, but not likely in NZ or USA and not anytime soon. You can look for me as the woman in orange with the heart-shaped bonnet that made me look like a moon-faced newborn baby. I have a glass of gin in my hand in almost every shot. Yeah. The hotel hussie. You will also notice that my ass is rather large. That is not through the grace of genetics, but crinoline. My bustle was big and my corset was small and I did not breathe properly for 12 hours.
Questions?
This is a small island nation. There are not many people. I am not from here. The clouds move quickly overhead, but that is not why we are a day ahead of a lot of the world.
The wind has not shifted in almost a week. It is blowing steadily from the north. The antipodean winter is not the beast that all had claimed. Instead it's more like the lamb, of which there are many here, and even billboards along the road highlighting a little, white, fluffy lamb named "Maggie" who will be this season's spring cuisine. How sick is that? Everyone line up for chow: it's Maggie tonight.
On Fridays, I admit, I still wake up a little more juiced up, as if there was some great carnival coming to town and we got backstage passes. This morning, in particular, I thought, "oh yeah!" because I had an appointment. I have something in the old day planner and it's going to take me out of the house and into the Volvo and down the road to ... the doctor's office! Sweet. I updated some vaccinations for my imminent travel plans and didn't cry when the *student* nurse gave me a tetanus shot (even though it really did hurt) and though there was a whole bucket of lollipops, I didn't take one because sometimes the lack of dental hygiene in this country gets me down, and I don't want to be doubly down should I lose my own front teeth before 35. I like those teeth. The make it okay to say things like teeth and thigh and thicket.
Yesterday should have been the day that got me up with a gasp except that it was so damn early when my alarm rang that the gasp was inaudible over the collective snoring of the entire city. When was the last time I got up at 5:30? Dear sweet lord of goodness, at the fifth hour of morning, there is no light, no sound, no warmth. Even the bay was silent, relaxing in a nice respite from that northerly wind. I only got up then to see if I could, since I will have to when I am out there in the world on my own, attempting to do yoga in these bowels of the day. But since I was up, I decided to make it to the extras gig I had lined up way over in Island Bay. I got to be a "hotel patron" for a show that will be called "The Lost Children" and will air somewhere, someday, but not likely in NZ or USA and not anytime soon. You can look for me as the woman in orange with the heart-shaped bonnet that made me look like a moon-faced newborn baby. I have a glass of gin in my hand in almost every shot. Yeah. The hotel hussie. You will also notice that my ass is rather large. That is not through the grace of genetics, but crinoline. My bustle was big and my corset was small and I did not breathe properly for 12 hours.
Questions?
posted by your friend at Thursday, August 25, 2005
1 Comments:
Hee, hee - you're funny :) Fight the power man....
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