Thursday, May 30, 2013

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

YBIAWL: Part 1 - The Blue

Part one of a three part series entitled "Your Body is a Wonderland" dedicated to my maternal grandmother, who graciously allowed me to John Mayer her corpus, in a mostly, nonsexual way.

A beautiful, rich, yet translucent hue that's bluer than where the sky meets the ocean. Clear as the lagoon that Brooke Shield's eyebrows and her young tits splashed around in. This little patch of paradise lived right under her eye on top of the plateau of her left cheek bone.

It would move and undulate when she spoke, smiled. Hypnotized by its ocean waves, I'd be filled nervous kinetic energy when I got too close. She would be imparting an important life lesson, I'm sure of it, but I was lost in that spot.

It felt like my birthday, or Christmas morning, when the time would come to take a dive into The Blue.

"Get a tissue," she'd whisper with gravitas.

My tiny body would propel itself to the nearest Kleenex box and ricochet back before she could grab her brass mirror. Hands shaking, I was careful not to compromise the tissue by crumpling it, ripping it, sweating on it, or chewing on it (as I sometimes did as a kid).

The wait was excruciating. I stood at attention but knew better than to rush her. She'd skillfully set her mirror on the nightstand next to her, rusty brass kickstands tilting it up at precisely the right angle.

"Tissue," she motioned, as I sprawled it out in front of her mirror. I had a second sheet behind my back which I promptly shoved in my mouth and packed it under my tongue letting it soften and melt like cotton candy.

Her two pointer fingers touched her cheek. At first just gently prodding around The Blue, then with more force and pressure. A large white tube snaked out of her face as I squealed with glee and helicoptered around the room. She'd press again and more would erupt. This happened five or six more times.

A million questions swirled (presented are three) I caught my breath from the excitement:
If she kept squeezing would her brains come out?How could anything like to live inside my sweet old grandmother's head?What was in my head?
Of course, as I learned early on, that all good things, such as birthdays, holidays... I'd have to wait for the appropriate cycle, season before we could dive into The Blue again.

Read Part 2 here

Do Not Disturb

Wednesday, May 22, 2013


"Your eyes are as dry as the Sahara!" exclaimed the bird-like optometrist (who coincidentally happens to love and own many pet birds).

"Argh, really?" Surprised at my sounding surprised. This I already knew because there's rarely a moment where it doesn't feel like tiny kitten tongues are bathing my eyeballs.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

"Yes, your tear breakup time is three seconds, while it normally should be around ten," Doc advised. "It's unavoidable we're going to have to put you on a daily prescription that will help you produce your own tears."

"Oh, okay. So, ummmm, will it cause all of my mucus membranes to produce more moisture?" as I shifted my eyes down into my lap.

"Uh," Doc following my gaze, "No, it shouldn't..."

"Oh, okay. Is it an oral medication?" I inquired further.

He passed me a sample of prescription eye drops.

Blink. Blink. Blink.