Friday, May 9, 2008
If you build a better tissue box...
One of my (many) fun & creative things to do is buy Target tissue--those beautiful blank sides just beg to be drawn on with permanent markers of some sort, Sharpies or their equivalents. Here's one of my latest ones. As you can see, it doesn't have to be perfect. Sincere or inspired will do. Grin.
The Vicki Genfan Mother's Day video is out, & the photo of my mom & I is prominently featured at the very very very end, after the music stops. (We're the backdrop for the credits.) Take a look.
I have just finished laundry. Sat & meditated at the laundromat. I know, you might be thinking laundromat meditation goes together about as well as beer & ice cream (a la (mode) yesterday) but don't knock it until you try it. The sounds of dryers. Your clothes, or someone else's spinning hypnotically behind glass.
Some times there are loud conversations, but I'm pretty good at tuning things out. There was a little girl there today who was at times quite loud, saying da da da da da & then turning it into her own version of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star--with some tuneful modifications & tons of personality. It was definitely her own arrangement.
She was definitely her own arrangement, which is delightful. She ran around & climbed on things in her little pink plastic shoes--the kind that are so popular right now, which I don't care for much myself, being reminded of brightly colored hippo heads. Hippo heads are cute on hippos, but I don't want them at the bottom of my legs. Still, in little girl size, they're not so bad.
Okay, on to the rest of my iced tea & the rest of my day. Gotta do a little straightening up at home & put this nice clean laundry away. Maybe I'll try to pair down my possessions a bit more in the expectation that there will be that much less to move when I do acquire real estate.
128. Build your own tissue box. I like permanent markers, but you can print out photos & glue them on or collage pictures from magazines. If you want to be more literary, you can write poetry or 4 really short stories on the sides. Or begin a novel. (Shari blew her nose, again. The honk reminded her of the lighthouse back home. Her eyes teared up. "Stop it," she commanded herself, a very sore-throat croaking command. No sense adding nostalgia to rhinovinus. Her red nose would never survive...Okay, so you can have this novel beginning if you want, as I can tell that I am not going to use it.) (I won't feel the slightest bit bad if you decline.)