July 28, 2005

BLACK IS THE COLOR OF MY TRUE LOVES FUR

I woke twice in the night ( again) wondering where the fuck I was and wondering who was in the bed with me, absolutely fucking startled. You'd think I just spent 6 years in a navy brig, the way I came home so alien'd. Fingers outstretched, like E.T, purring curious: "Sham-pooo. Sham-pooooo". I was gone two weeks, and I feel like my Chicago life is fresh mystery. I just want to have some solitude to take it in, incubate the small-a anarchy I got love'd by, work hard and maybe turn the back porch into an art studio, maybe enforce a three week vow of silence and make epic to do lists to enforce the Awesome-Progress / Bob Villa vamping Emma Goldman steez I want to purvey.

And did I mention? = AN OPOSSUM CAME INTO MY OFFICE AND STAYED FOR A FEW HOURS. I was not there to see it. It walked in the front door, says my roommate. She threw cat toys at it to make it leave, which proved to be wholly ineffective, as the O-pposum hung out on top of a pile of Ellen Allien promos for 4 hours. I got scared about lice, sand chiggers and diseased fur it may have introduced into my personal environs, and then once I was done being scared about it, I wanted the opossum to come back. To hang upside down with it pre-ensil tail wrapped ' round the drawer handles, waggling like a chime, and smiling and giggling. Winking.

Oppossum come back; I loves you.

It has been my Wild Kingdom week. In NC, a full-grown-up deer ran through a suburban lawn, to the curb, and stopped 5 feet of the starboard size of the Goodship Toyota Lollipop that I was driving. We stopped when it did - and exchanged "the stare" -- that bit of earth-halting moment when your eyes meet their coal black shiney-eyes and you wonder about trans-species telepathy and engage anthropomophism, and the deer goes from being a deer to Dave the Deer, out on an errand - fetching pinecones. After the deer encounter, three hours later, I was loitering in a parking lot, using the car like a living room, doors open, reading Science Boners R Us , feet on the dash, and a red squirrel tried to hop in the car with me. We froze, stared into each other's souls, like the spinning dancefloor scene in Saturday Night Fever : us, bound, spanning a lifetime in a moment... and then the squirrel ran, dissappeared into a "Cardboard Only" dumpster. Then, after night fall, some mid-size chickens, they chased me around the Co-Op yard. They were shedding their baby feather coats and the the feathers were assembling, pooling around their spindley legs, and it looked like they were wearing pants. I took their pictures and then they ran away. They were shy, I guess.

Posted by Jessica at July 28, 2005 01:37 PM | TrackBack