To Wear or Not to Wear

For Valentines, Fran bought me pearls. They were beautiful, and I was worried he'd spent his entire student loan on them. He assured me he found a steal of 80% off which made me feel less guilty and entirely flattered. Immediately I was posed with a dilemma: do I wear these everyday, and knowing me, encounter the possibility of losing them? They are REAL. Or do I save them for very special occassions, and pull them out for balls and dinners?

I liked them so much I went with the first option and wore them all the time. And I mean ALL the time. I wore them in the shower, wore them to bed, wore them jogging, wore them to nanny. But yesterday, I looked in the mirror and realized I had lost one. I couldn't say I was entirely surprised... but I was sad.

So here's the question: what would you do? Do you hide your nice stuff away and pull it out only on very special occassions, or do you wear it all the time with a chance of losing it? To wear or not to wear?

itchy feet

Next to my desk a vase is full of dead red carnations. I wish the weather would heat up so I could start wearing the dresses that litter my closet. I go home in t-20 days. I miss my dog and sitting on the front porch reading and drinking sweet tea, barbeque from Vandys, my sister playing the piano and then my brother coming down to either tell her its too loud or to butt in for attention. But life here isn't dull: I go camping this weekend. Sunday, Sanna comes for 10 days. Time just seems to move so slowly and then so fast. I am convinced but cannot prove that time does not exist.

D-Day of the Premiere League

Dear World,
WIGAN HAS NOT BEEN RELEGATED!!!!!!! Hallelooooolyah!!!!

Fran supports Wigan. Wigan has been one of the five teams in the battle to not be relegated. I have been dreading today in case Wigan gets relegated. Mentally, I've been coming up with contigency plans in case they lost to pull Fran from his inevitable depression--last minute deals to Majorca, the price of a Wigan jersey, etc. If there's anything worse than watching your team lose, its watching your boyfriends team lose, knowing that you actually don't give a rat's hynie about what happens to them, but you'll have to live with the mopey son-of-gun for goodness knows how long:: will he throw himself under a train? will he begin to drink dangerous quantities? or the worst, will he just recede into himself and have this far-away look in his eyes and when he finally looks at you its from a different universe:: SO YOU BEGIN TO CARE VERY QUICKLY.

I received four phone calls within the span of half an hour, waking me up from the oh-so- precious Sunday nap. Today in the 60th minute, Wigan scored against Stoke City, thus winning their match. YESSSS!!! After all, whats more fun than going through the hold-you-breath moments together with a friend and enjoying the triumph and joy and radiance of their pleasure. I will just say I am very glad.

Bette Davis

Probably my favorite old school actress is Bette Davis, (possibly the Angelina of her day), and my favorite all time performance is in the award-winning film, Now Voyager. Its the story of an ugly-duckling ruled by an over-bearing mother, finally breaking free and asserting herself as a woman. This image is when she steps onto a ship, free of her mother, making her own decisions, completely unsure of herself, conveyed brilliantly by, of course, her eyes. This uncertainty reminds me of bambi trying to walk on ice, a toddler looking up at me and wanting onto a slide, a young girl trying on her mother's red high-heeled shoes. Or any young girl taking those first steps from girlhood to womanhood: from a pony tail to wearing hair down, wearing a fitted dress (is that really me?), shaving your legs for the first time and wondering if people will notice, dabbling with make-up hoping it looks ok, trying not to fall in high heels, or even wearing red lipstick, both craving and fearing the approval of people. This film captures it all. Its about the budding insecurity of womanhood, but all those did-I-do-it-right steps are encouraged by the attentions of a man. Its about insecurity, but recognizing that same insecurity in others, perhaps that of smaller girls, and giving them the confidence to step forth, albeit a little shly, into their own.
Here's to Bette Davis and those eyes: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eja-popojUo

Playground: Part II

The other day, while playing 'tig' a little girl I didn't know from Adam came up to me and threw her arms around my waist, and said, very simply, 'I like your necklace.'

Hero

"It is still true that there is a persepctive from which the reader, the mental travvler, is the hero of literature, or at least of what he has read." Northrop Frye

The Playground

This job as a nanny requires me to pick the children up at school, one a little before the other, and this allows us a half an hour gap to play. Being not yet as old as mummy, but not quite a school child, the younger kiddos think it great fun to enroll me in their games, and chase me without fail. Here are how my cultural differences affected my ability to play tag:

I 'tagged' a little boy, but he said it didn't count because I didn't say 'tig'. Right, ok, so next time, say 'tag'.

Well next time, I tagged a child, and said 'you're it!' That didn't count either because I didn't say 'tig'.

Attempt three, did not count because I said 'tag' instead of 'tig.' This ensued in an argument. 'THE GAME IS CALLED TAG!!' 'No its not, the game is TIG. TIG.' What kind of stupid name is tig, when its tag. This country can't pronounce things properly...

Fourth attempt: 'No! It doesn't count. He was in DEN!' What in the world is den? 'Do you mean base?' 'What's base? Thats den. You can't tig people when you're in den.' AUGH. So not only is the word 'tag' wrong, but so is 'base'! Basically all thats left of this game is the premise.

Fifth attempt: 'Tig! You're it! You're not in den!' There, I did everything your stupid way. 'Naw! You didn't tag me- I didn't feel anything! You didn't get me! You're it! You're it!' What am I supposed to do? Shove this little bugger face first on the concrete?

Sixth attempt: 'Tig!' 'No, he was in den!' 'NO HE WAS NOT!' 'YES HE WAS. HE'S NOT IT. YOU ARE!' 'FINE, I'm not playing. He was not on den and I am not it!' And then the awful, chorus of 'CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT CHEAT'.

Ah now, there's finally something familiar, the mercilessness of children on the playground being directed at anyone else as long as its not you. And I hear the rumble of feet and I look up and they're all on a desserted beach and Piggy is pushing his glasses up on his nose, and one of them builds a gathers wood for a fire, and oh surely not, its Lord of the Flies all over again.

Bad dreams

Oh the subconscious. I had a dream I was pregnant. And the baby was sickly, and I think I gave it away much to the horror of my mother. And then there were horses in a field, jumping a very high fence, and then two were wrestling, and then they turned out to be Centaurs, and the centaur whisked me away, and he was human reason and beastly ferocity. And then Hannah Bonner and her boyfriend stopped by my house when I was out and left me a note, and they had played with Indy because there was poo on the table, and then I was cleaning out her cage only to realize I had put a golden retriever in the cage with Indy, but they were happy as could be.

Somehow during all of this, I turned off my alarm that went told me the morning news because I found it disturbing and slept in. And now I'm eating ice cream for breakfast to make myself feel less violated by my subconscious.

My Room

My room is the sort of room I've always dreamed of having. I'm on the top floor of my flat with my ceiling slanting slightly. My window is cut into this slant and opens out directly onto the roof. I'm the only one I can see on this whole rooftop view of houses with a skylight window! Its lovely. I have a view of a Cathedral Steeple, and if bells still chimed, we'd be close friends. I can also see the Pentland hills. Whats more exciting is the light that streams in, so forcibly it sometimes gives me headaches. Today I sat at my desk writing, the window full open, the sun so strong I had to put on sunglasses, birds swooping by. Its the sort of desk position that makes you want to sit down and write important things. Its tremendous and I love it.