After spending a fair amount of time yesterday outside these four walls (actually, there are more than four, but it's really just a "figure of speech" and doesn't require me to count, which is a good thing because since the amputation, I can only go as high as 15), and being subjected to noxious body odor generous enough to not only assault my sense of smell but to invade my sense of taste as well; weedy, pungent armpits exposed when the man-arms to which they were attached felt compelled to hold onto the subway straps; sweaty, moist shorts crumpled far up into the wearers' crotches; women's underarms with five o'clock shadows at 1:30 p.m.; too many toes; too much inane chatter ... yes, after spending a few hours outside these walls, and wanting everyone to be sucked through the hole in the ozone, I decided that my original opinion regarding the Outside World During the Summer still stands.
Which is why you'll find me inside all day today. Which is why I'm sitting here in a semi-lotus position, hair atop my head (just like in the drawing at the top of this page), pretty glass filled to the brim with a Clamato Fizzy (see my comment to the previous post). I am, thus, happy as a clam -- at least the ones who avoided being made into juice. Cool as a cucumber. Footloose and fancyfree. I have nowhere to go, no places to see, no one to meet.
I have stopped telling myself I "should" be outside. I have stopped thinking that Something Exciting is going on in which I am not participating. I have stopped thinking I should be at a gallery, at an exhibition, at a bistro, in a park, in a store laughing at pricetags and the idiots who obey them.
My friend Christine stopped up today after our Pilates class (I am trendy, yes) and hung out with me for a while. It was the first time she'd been up here. "This place is fantastic," she said. "No wonder you never want to leave. If I lived here, I'd stay inside all day too."
Why leave heaven for hell, I ask you? There will be plenty of time for that once the underarms and armpits are hibernating inside thick sweaters and thicker overcoats. When toes are crammed into boots, where they should be. When people are scurrying to get inside, away from the cold, that's when I'll be the first one outside, my coat unbuttoned, its tails flapping behind me in the refrigerated breeze. But until then, I'm staying inside, hibernating, away from the moist wet-sponge stench of unwashed flesh and more bare body parts than I can bear.
See you in October.
fresh-baked at 01:42 PMEverybody check out Aaron's comment above. He's crying out for help, seeking self affirmation, trying to inflate his delusions of adequacy. Look up his Excursus post on his site meter and its comments on 7/17.
We all owe it to Aaron to give him our utmost support. Go to Ecursus and look up the post. Click on the Educational Experience link. Click on the Fun Link link in the margin. Do it all again. Do it a lot! Sooner or later we will help him to boost his delusions of adequacy. And think of how much fun it'll be!
We're all behind you in this, Aaron!
;-)
Offered by: The Real Don on July 18, 2002 6:13 PMShe would never dream of sharing anyone's dessert but her husband's or mother's. People get very possessive of desserts.
Offered by: Kim on July 18, 2002 5:57 PMOh, Jodi. I always knew you were my soulmate! Winter rules. Summer? You can keep it.
Offered by: Eyre ni Rhuth on July 18, 2002 5:39 PMAhh, but some of the subways have newfangled trains. The #6, for instance, has the new super-computer cars, with subzero a/c. Mmmmmm.
The only complaint people really have about them is that the polite pre-recorded voices aren't done with a New York accent.
The Hamptons are =so= passé nowadays.
OK, I used to love the NYC Subway, and talked it up as the model all mass transportation should be based upon. I even loved hanging around in the stations late at night all alone. Now the images of sweaty armpits has forever cursed my good NYC subway experiences.
Offered by: stacey on July 18, 2002 5:05 PMKim: The company was great ... especially since she laughed at my stupid jokes and didn't even try to share my dessert!
Offered by: Jodi on July 18, 2002 3:58 PMChristine, darling: I will vacation at your country house. I'll supply the Combos if you supply the Scrabble.
Offered by: Jodi on July 18, 2002 3:18 PMOh, come on Jodi. Suck it up.
Literally.
Just stick your head into people's armpits, and take a big sniff.
Put those toes...up your nose!!
Embrace the vile disgustingness of humanity like it was a tofu pup and a bowl of Vanilla Almond Bark flavor Tofutti. And then you can go home, enjoy yourself a Clam Chodwer Smoothie and say to yourself :
"Wow. I sure do smell nice compared to those people."
It's all about the self-affirmation, people.
Offered by: aaron on July 18, 2002 3:18 PMNote to self: do not read Jodiverse immediately following a meal. ;)
Offered by: Shawn on July 18, 2002 3:11 PMIf you had a summer place like a decent New Yorker, you'd enjoy the summer.
Hamptons, anyone?
But at least the company was good. Maybe?
Offered by: Kim on July 18, 2002 2:27 PMRhonda:
Nothing like the "pond" on a hog farm, is there?
Offered by: The Real Don on July 18, 2002 2:26 PMJodi, you paint a pretty "rancid" picture of urban life, as it pertains to odoriferous eminations. However, I must advise you there is a much more "Pungent" offense going on here in the Midwest. It's called Farmer Jones comes to town. This occurs when said Mr.Jones drives his pickup truck to town to get some lunch. Now, most of us with reasonable sensibilities would take time to freshen up a bit. That is however, not the case with Mr. Jones. He comes in straight off the farm with every known livestock smell known to man. Overalls and rubber boots still wet from calving and milking, not to mention cleaning out the hog stalls.
I'm sitting innocently, at one of my favorite pizza places, waiting for a friend, hoping my arid extra dry is still effective, when Mr. Jones walks in and parks himself and his boots at the table next to mine. I need not worry about my deodorant. Suddenly, I am no longer hungry. My friend walks in and instantly is ready to leave. I suggest a slurpie and a walk in the park. At least the breeze is blowing.
Yep. My idea of outside fun in the summer is heading out the backdoor into the sanctuary of our large, fenced-in backyard. Lounging on the hammock. Digging around in the garden. Playing with and photographing the puppies. THAT is outdoor fun. :)
Offered by: Kelly on July 18, 2002 1:55 PM
