Oh the heat :(

I just found out that there's a new, super awesome, biannual flea market in my area, and they're having the first event in less than a month. First thought? Omg. Omg. Omg. I have to do it! Second thought? Oh shit. I can't. For several minutes, these two thoughts fought, but in the end, the second one has won out.

My body shuts down in 100 degree heat. And coincidentally, the past few days have been hellacious. So I'm not feeling very hopeful about the coming summer. I'm concerned that I'm reaching some kind of physical brick wall in relation to my ability to live in a super hot place. It frightens me to think that my body cannot live in the place where I live. Or maybe I'm overreacting, and the past few days have just been a strange response to a strange May heat-wave.

We'll see. But I don't think the flea market is going to happen. The rummage sale was possible because it wasn't hot. Also, there's a big three digit fee to have a booth, and I'm not rollin' in cash. Ok, I'll try to be more positive from here on out.

There will always be more garbage.

Remember the last time you got to swim in a clear blue swimming pool, enjoying the cool water, and loving the way the water felt against your body, making your muscles work in a way they can't do on land?

Remember the huge lump of dog hair or garbage or kid urine that suddenly got in your way?

Yeah, that's life. But it doesn't mean you should stop swimming or that you should begin focusing on the garbage. Toss it aside, and move along. There will always be more garbage. You can't control that.

Got anything layin' around?

Do you have something around your house that takes up a lot of space, but has no purpose? Read this article (or just glance at the title) and watch the accompanying video. You may be inspired.

Of course, this was an interesting story to me because I live in California, and when one flies over pretty much anywhere in our lovely state, one will immediately recognize the number of swimming pools we have in our backyards. When I lived in San Diego County, our neighborhood had a shared community pool, and it was big and deep and always the perfect temperature. I think there was also a spa/jacuzzi. It was fun. It was a place to see friends. I enjoyed it.

I'd like to see more communities planned in this way. Obviously, in my old neighborhood, we swam at the pool year-round. Where I live now, pools are used less often because our winters are not conducive to winter swimming. We lie at the extremes, temperature-wise. So here's my thought: why not put that space to good use, like the family in Arizona? Why not create more shared spaces, and fewer individual spaces that can't be shared neighborhood-wide?

This is just a thought. I don't know how I can make this happen. I have a negative amount in my bank account. What do I know?

I am not an alien.

 

When I was seven or eight (or nine?), at Sunday School, we were asked to draw what our life would look like when we were 26. I wrote that I would be a professional ballerina. That was what I wanted to be; I worked like a maniac to be that person, and it didn't work out. My body didn't have what I needed to go as far with dancing as I wanted to go. Then the same thing happened with swimming. My body didn't have what it took.

So now my life is different that I thought it would be. The faces are different from the old faces. The people who were in my life at ages seven, eight, and nine, are no longer in my everyday life. Not a one. And that is strange. I don't have all the markers people commonly have that remind them who they were, and how they became who they are. That disconnect is jarring sometimes. It's normal for a person in my situation, but it's still jarring.

I talk about this stuff a lot, because it's central to my everyday functioning. Sometimes I have to remind myself daily that I'm still real, that I'm a person. I am not an alien. I am not invisible.

9. Pictures of beautiful tattoos

I have been thinking about getting a tattoo since I was fourteen. My best friend and I would sit in the back of history class and draw pictures of what we'd get. At the end of four years of high school, I was firm in my decision, that the only tattoo I'd ever get would be the Olympic rings (obviously because I'd be in the Olympics-duh). Well, my Olympic aspirations are far and done, unless I pull a Dara Torres in a decade or so. But seriously, swimming is a far-gone part of my life; I don't even think of myself as an "athlete" anymore. I believe I've mentioned this before.

Of course I can still appreciate beautiful tattoos though.

1. Quotes are always lovely; the script has to flow just right though
2. A heart on the wrist, a heart on the upper back; anywhere works (Extras! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
3. Finally, trees are always nice; I saw a tree meditating on the calf once-it was nice. It's difficult to get a tree that doesn't completely overwhelm the rest of the body. I like them to be small. I am a firm believer that the body is already a work of art; to add to it is to presume that one knows better than God, that there need to be additions. I am a total prude though. Get all the tattoos you want-but no face tattoos! I love your face.

Ack! I always rethink my decision not to get one, but I think sometimes it's more fun to dream...

"It always seemed like a joke"

So I woke up in the middle of the night with chest pain (i.e. sternum pain) and a slight fever. I am sick and my high school sternum injury, which has always seemed like a joke, is inflamed for some unexplained reason. Anyhow, it still hurts, but I am breathing normally. My back also hurts quite a bit.

Lest you grow concerned for my well-being, let me take you back a few days to my gardening foray. It seems that a few decades of not doing anything yard-work related has made me somewhat of a pansy. Yes, it felt amazing to wack that hoe around (say that five times for fun), but let's face it, my body has not been trained for that sort of thing. Yes, my years of aquatic sports have made me somewhat broad-shouldered and "athletic" looking, but don't let it fool you. I swam because it was as low-contact as possible. Short of running into a wall (seen it, and it can get ugly), swimming is pretty safe. It also does not require a lot of human interaction, team-building, or compromise. Somehow that was good for me as a young person; now, not so much.

In this case, the sternum injury was caused by an obese girl who threatened me, then kicked me in the chest in the water during a water polo game. Good times. Diagnosis: Cracked sternum. Treatment: None.

I am drawn to the hoeing; it is unbridled and raw. I can let out the crap of the day without hurting anyone, especially if no one is home (unless they come home in the middle of the backyard drama-then it's just awkward).

I've never been a particularly "violent" person. I didn't get into fights in school or anything; I mostly got threatened by cholas. I didn't ask for it. I was just sad all the time, or thinking, or mad, so I always looked ready-to-kill. That made some people a little crazy, and other people treat me poorly. I don't think I have built-up hostility, but maybe I have bad stuff built up inside of me that needs to be let out.

Maybe I abhor violence because I know what I myself am capable of, so I stick to safe activities, like blowing up dirt clods.

We all know: they're the real enemy.