the crazies
I'm learning some things about myself:1. Adopting a cat and naming her Sanity does not mean I will be more sane. On her first day at my home, I remember I was crawling into bed while she was still running desperately from bedroom to livingroom hoping we'd be staying up and playing more. I looked over at her saying, "Listen, honey, one of us has to go to work tomorrow so I can put food on the table."Lately I've taken to growling at her. Growling. This happens mostly around food. Her previous owner fed her from straight from the table. And over the last few weeks I haven't been able to keep her from snatching my bread or nibbling at pasta sauce.Last night I received a lovingly used oven from my friend, Liana, and made my first batch of chocolate chip cookies (Uragh!). Sanity took to sniffing around the pile, and my metaphorical mane flared. I was like a lion over a gnu carcass. "GRRRRRRAAAAAAAAUWWW!!!!" Literally. She stopped sniffing, jumped back to my chair and nestled herself onto my shoulder. No no, don't get all what-a-cute-kitty on me. She was just waiting to try to snatch a bite on it's way to my mouth. Swiped right at my lips.
2. Still, I might be crazy, but I need to get with winter and not dress like I'm crazy. Here in Armenia, many women dress like they ARE the glossy pages of magazines. Their commitment to looking good, to wielding shiny leather jackets and impossibly high heeled shoes rivals the meteorological commitment of US Postmen. Sure I've seen them at their zeezy-beeziest in many feet of snow, but heck, I've seen them wearing heels on a mountain hike.All that to say, I am learning that you can still look put together when it's cold. When I was a kid in Central Texas and the rare snow fell outside, we grabbed any available article of clothing, spastically pulled them on in impossible layers, and ran for the door. But this, my friends, is NO way to live in a cold climate.Consider this picture from spring of 2007. It was a bizarrely snowy Easter. See my friend, who looks like a cute little American Eagle ad. Now, consider me wearing, I'm serious, Doc Marten boots, sweatpants under Nike windpants, sweatshirt under cheap rain jacket, cabled scarf, mustard-colored thrift store gloves and a lime green hat. I even pulled up the sweat shirt hood. I look like an oaf. And here in Armenia, where it is as-we-speak snowing, I've got to think beyond warmth and keep in mind that I work in an office. No oafs aloud.3. Finally, when I really start to miss corporate singing, I WILL sing with myself. Naturally, you might say. We all sing in the shower, enjoy those me-myself-and-ringing-tile-walls times. But last night I wanted to harmonize so desperately, missed my Church of Christ acapella roots so much, that I found myself singing with myself in front of my computer, eyes closed, Sanity in my lap. My hands were up in the air like I was feeling it, for crying out loud. It wasn't until a mid-song moment, deep into the music, that I took a step back from myself, imagined the image of me and thought, I must look insane.Still, it could be worse.All things considered, I suppose my lonely, wintery Saturday night in Fridge Country was more fun with the me-tracks. And it didn't matter how I was dressed (hoody and fake Adidas jogging pants). And Sanity listened calmly and quietly, purring all the way through my musical venture.And it actually didn't turn out so bad. I mean, there's the buzzing and the missaying of the word "keep"... but it's not so bad for my cold winter night. See:[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tb5NfXrJoD4](My cover of Yeah Yeah Yeah's Turn Into)