Beautiful People

I sat in my sister's dorm kitchen and picked at my lavender painted nails.
"I need to get another Manicure..." I observed. "I like getting manicures, it makes me feel so grown up."
My Sister nodded her head in a half observed approval as she washed dough from the biscotti she was making off her fingers and in to the sink. A Manicure right now would be about as useful to her as a fish with a bicycle.

I thought back to the events of the day. I was up visiting Saratoga for the weekend and just so happened to pick campus "Fun Day" to arrive. Fun Day is a day devoted to debauchery and silliness all executed by the most gorgeous group of people I have ever seen. I had no clear idea about what I was getting into until I was standing on the green of the college campus and was totally inundated with hundreds of young, beautiful and fucked up college students running around me.

There were tiger stripes, see-through tights, "shirts" consisting of bras and bathing suit tops, and (some people) were just plain butt-naked. I felt very over dressed in my turquoise tank-top and jeans. "I feel like I walked into a Colgate commercial of what an idealized, over-sexed campus fantasy college must look like." I observed. I'm 24, and yet, standing on that green, I felt 44: "What on Earth is that girl wearing? Where is that young man's pants? Oh, Lord. That's a used condom! Are people having sex out here!?!" I eventually retired to a quieter spot with my sister and drank a cup of coffee while watching teenagers get spat out of a blown up castle that one would see at a ten-year-old's birthday party. As each one rolled out (ass-backwards and bowled over, landing on their heads) there was a face splitting grin and then they'd get up to run around to the front to do all over again. I turned to see my Sister's smile at the joy of the day. She noticed me looking and said casually "I have no desire to do that, but that looks really fun."

I laughed. "Yeah," I responded. "I don't either."

I already did it once, and revisiting just confirmed that that Manicure will feel really good. Maybe a pink. I feel so grown up when I get a new one.

Mermaiding in the South East

I'm going to the doctor's office today to get a travel vaccine and medicine evaluation before my trip to Thailand in 4 weeks.

I spent the better portion of this afternoon trolling the internet blogs, databases, tourism sites and my own scraps of memories for places that my sister and I could potentially go visit while abroad. It's funny: I haven't really understood what I am getting myself in to until I scroll down to about 25,000 ft on google maps and look at the vast green oceans of rainforest covering remote island in the aqua blue waters of the gulf of Siam. Holy Moly. I'm going there?!

As I peruse the photos and first hand accounts I am reminded very much of the lagoons of Peter Pan's Never-Never Land Mermaids singing and brushing their hair with Conch Shells and sunbathing on seagull covered boulders that thrust their large shit covered heads out of the clear depths of the bay. Will I be doing that!? Yes. Sign me up!

I guess the biggest apprehension I am feeling right now is the hesitation to make anything a solidified "sure thing" while I am over there. I feel as though I am embarking on an adventure that will hinge on the adventurous Australians and Europeans that I am sure to meet while over there. I have heard from many of my friends who have been to Thailand in the past, that the chances of meeting a group of blonde haired Aussies who are ready to pick you up and run with you to the other side of South East Asia are very high, you just have to be open to idea of going with them. My American brain doesn't seem to be able to fully process this idea, though. "So, I'm going to fly away to the other side of the planet with no clear idea as to what I am going to go over there past the first 4 days I have booked at the hostel in Bangkok? What the hell am I thinking? I'm going to rely on the spontaneity of New Zealanders? Brits? Aussies? Thai locals? Wow. I'm out there!"

I guess, as long as I wind up with wind blowing through my hair on a white sandy beach drinking coconut milk from a freshly cut nut I'll consider the whole trip a win. I just don't have any idea as to how that will happen or with whom. At least I'll have my Malaria pills and my Typhoid shot to keep me sure that somethings (like those diseases) are surely not going to get the best of me. All the rest... Well, I'll keep an open mind and try to ignore the American sensibilities that make me feel like I need to plan all of this vacation wonderland to a 'T'. Being a spontaneous sunbathing mermaid is not such a bad thing, after all.

Name the Noun

Improv, I am finding, is becoming more and more of a way of life for me. The rules I'm learning through practice and performance are very applicable to every day life, and to relationships as well.

In improv, there is a rule that when someone announces a "thing," be it an "It" or a "something" or a "What that person said" one has to name that thing as soon as possible, because if it isn't named, if it is left to become a mystery item, then the possibilities as to what that nondescript noun is becomes far bigger and more important in the minds of the audience than that noun could ever possibly be in real life. So, when an important person in real life says: "There is so much to say" and then, doesn't say what it is that needs to be spoken out loud, imagination runs wild and suddenly what could only be a statement as simple as "I think that you're a lot of fun to hang out with" could turn in to "I want you to move in with me and bear my children" in the run-a-way mind of the listener.

So, as a rule of thumb: Name the Noun. Name it quick. Or you'll have a weapon that, as the seconds pass, will become bigger and stronger and suddenly out of control the longer it goes without a label. And, that can be a very powerful and simultaneously hollow weapon of control over another person.

I think that is why Fear Mongering in government or big business or love works very well when the "non-naming of a noun" rule is implicated.

Just a thought I had last night when after I said "I have something to say" I quickly followed up with: "you better leave the room because I need to fart."

The Tip Of The Tongue

We were standing on the platform for the 7 train. It was another one of these deliciously warm spring days we've been having so many of this season. The sun was beginning to set and we had both paused to watch the train we had just gotten off pull away and then travel on into the distance. The Woodside station in Queens sits pretty high up from street level, and if you stand at the right place, you can see a gorgeous panoramic view of the skyline of New York.

I felt my hand go up to feel his and the two of us stood in awe of the sheer wonder that the scene was displaying for us. "This would be a great moment" I thought, "to say 'I love you.' "

"What'cha thinkin', Nat?"

Oh, a bunch of things involving a three word phrase that feels like it's ready to pry open my lips and jump out of me, but I feel like I can't say... just yet. We've only been seeing each other for a month!

"I'm taking in the scene, Serendipity. I'm drinking this in. It's so beautiful."

"Yes. Perfect."

"I l-l-liiiikke you so much."

"Me too, Nat."

I leaned in to kiss him and we smooched on the platform for a few minutes, until the next 7 pulled in and hundreds of Mets fans poured out of the train, diluting the breezy subway platform make-out with drunken sounds of cheering and screeching train brakes. Pulling apart, sharing a smile, and without saying a word, the two of us began to make our decent down to street level to go grab a slice of pizza and ice-cream. As we made our way I looked back at where we had stood in that moment and promised myself that more moments are coming.

And then I wondered how much strength I have left to not say the 'L' word out loud the next time a perfect moment comes along.