rock paper scissors

im in milwaukee. it is a dry town. in the sense that there is what feels like zero moisture in the air. between the arid theater and the super fancy hermetically sealed hotel room, i feel as if my skin might crack if i move to fast or bump into something too hard. like all the freaking mannequins i keep seeing. i don't know if it is the unfamiliarity of this place that makes them stand out or what. even the headless one threw me off. as did the bronze duck by the river. as did the bronze Fonz by the river. (sometimes i wish i had a camera crew following me always and not just some of the time.) The Fonz has fared well considering the weather and weather fighting salt. i, on the other hand, could really use some lotion. i am a lizard. and this is my rock.

it's was that 'oh shit' sinking feeling that hit me like a ton of sand. it was and accident, i wasn't being careful, i was going too fast. but it's too late and now there is nothing i can do about it. my fingers, that where moments ago nimbly flitting about the keyboard now feel like disconnected tubes of lead. it's like the world/my heart has momentarily stopped and im feeling the rush of wind as the rest of the universe wooshes past me. file this under the list of cyber related maladies of today/tomorrow. i just sent an email to not the intended person. correction. i just sent an email to not the intended personS, plural. i feel like a partial, if not complete, ass. sigh. don't get me wrong, i heart me some technology. i really can't think of how we all survived without a cell phone. or email. or blogs. but that whole instant access/gratification aspect has got a case of the double edged sword. oh well. there is nothing i can do but brace myself for the aftermath. and hope for the best. maybe i aught to stick with letter writing when going personal. this kinda shit never happens on paper.

years ago, i took a sign language class. don't remember the impetus of such academic pursuits, much less any actual sign language save for one simple mildly useless phrase (I have a book). one class did stand out in my mind. it was when we were visited by real live deaf folks. two of them. an older married couple. one was deaf and mute, the other just deaf, but deaf from birth so any vocalizations were lost on those with an intact sense of hearing. at one point in the class the husband of the team addressed me and mistook me for a boy. hilarity ensued. with the teacher as translator, the man said something to the effect of 'why do you have short hair? you are a girl. short hair is for boys.' i think there might have been some reference to 'god' or 'the lord' in there as well. i don't know how i answered exactly, but i'm almost positive that it was accompanied by a shrug and a 'help me!' glance directed at my sister who was also taking the class but was spared this particular lesson due to her mid back length hair.

years later, i finally came up with a clever enough response: it was not god who gave men short hair and women long hair, it was scissors.