Flaming Fluke

Fluke! Fluke fluke fluke! Fluke fluke! I just ordered a fluke! I am so very excited!

I've been drooling over this little instrument for a couple of years now, and when I saw one in black with red flames, well, that was it. For those who don't know what a fluke is, it is a sort of ukulele with a triangular shape, made by this small company. The owner of the company makes the ukes. And flukes. And fleas. When I called, the owner's wife picked up the phone & we chatted for a little bit about ukes. Her brother, Jim Beloff, wrote the books I learned to play with.

My fluke won't look exactly like the picture because I'm getting a rosewood neck, so the neck will be red. (Rosewood is more scratch-resistant than the standard material they use, which is some kind of plastic composite. So when I decide I want to be louder, I can put on metal strings without ruining the instrument.)

Whoo hoo!!! I am such a dork, and I don't care.

Also, there are places to attach a strap if one wants, and I do want. Now I feel inspired to knit this pattern I found for a cool guitar strap. Like I said, dork.

Troll Boobs

Tonight I realized that for months or perhaps even years there has been a niggling little question floating around in the back of my head. It roams about and snivels quietly in odd corners, ignored by me because I just didn't want to think about it.

But still the question lingers, until finally today I was forced to acknowledge it: Why on earth do I wear a bra? I must be fucking crazy; why else would I don this torture device every day? I look better with one on, I tell myself. And I don't want people to watch my boobs jiggle (believe me, there is a lot of jiggling going on). And what of the shame should someone see my nipples through my shirt?

So let's balance that against the agony and shoulder aches from wearing bras. I don't mean a little, it hurts a lot, no joke. I think some of this is amplified by old injuries, but if I didn't wear a bra the pain would be much less. Like, ouch.

The thing is, I really like how I look with a bra on, I like my shape better. But what is wrong with me when I am bra-free? Maybe I should work on admiring my trollish shape just the way it is.

I have often thought that if we ever invent anti-gravitaional devices, one of the applications could be in women's undergarments-just turn on your gravitational brassiere and you can have perky breasts with no straps whatsoever. But since that hasn't happened yet, I did the next best thing; googled "comfortable bras" and ordered an all-cotton, no-underwire-having, genuine-made-by-a-women's-collective-in-Seattle UnBra. It'll take 3 weeks to get here, and I can't wait. The color: eggplant, because today I had some roasted eggplant salad at lunch and it was really really good.

Then I logged on to Victoria's Secret and purchased a Body by Victoria Demi Plunge bra with matching hip-hugger panties. I wanted periwinkle blue but of course they were out in my size, so I settled for Whisper Pink.

As a final note, the picture I included here of the lovely Rose may seem unrelated to the text of this entry; but look once again at how relaxed, elegant, and demure she looks--WITHOUT a bra.

Had the best time tonight making crazy invitations with my super cool friend Nancy. The dog kept bugging us with her squeaky ball, plopping it on top of our work when we ignored her. Fairly effective strategy...

Also made this extra good chicken salad with miso-baked chicken; I took nerimiso and spread it over frozen chicken and then baked it (Nerimiso is miso paste, lemon zest, lemon juice, sesame oil and seeds, ginger, and honey). Sliced it while warm and put it over lovely salad greens with organic heritage tomatoes, carrots, and red bell peppers, then topped it off with an Asian-themed sesame-mustard salad dressing. Plus Lime-Mashed Yams. Nancy became uncontrollably enamoured of this meal to the point that I began to fear for her very sanity. Luckily, after some time she was able to collect herself.

The entirely unrelated picture I have posted here is of this absolutely amazing watersnake I encountered on a hike to the creek up at 13 Springs.

Troll Food for Breakfast

Do you ever have that moment when you are faced with two choices, one of which is obviously the correct one, filled with health and the promise of a glorious day, the other a sure path to bloated sogginess and a pulpy stomachache? And then make the wrong choice even though you know better?

That was me this morning when I decided to eat macaroni and cheese for breakfast even though I had organic eggs and heritage tomatoes fresh from the farmer's market, which I could have cooked up with herbs snipped that minute from my little herb garden. But the allure of mac-n-cheese was too strong! Mmmm, salt and grease and cheesy (I suppose you can't really call it goodness if it makes you sick, can you?) ness.

What trollish contrariness to choose that hellish breakfast with complete disregard for the consequences! (though there may have been a twinge of uneasiness in there) How brave of me to chow down on crap food when I have the option of gourmet delicacy! how ridiculous to claim that mac-n-cheese is troll food when obviously a troll in the forest would be dining on roots and grubs or something!