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 |  My first ever Writing.com journal. |
| taken from tina, my lily of the valley, jade pendant between my collarbones, apple-scented lotus blossum on my pillowcase, brilliant ruby under the rose petal, wind beneath the wing of my canair cruiser jet, source of all things pure and gem-spangled. tina finds good surveys. follow my lead if you like it, changing everything after the colon. 1. my uncle once: told me and my brother that spam came from a spig. he was from a city far, far away (detroit) and only showed up at the most magical times of the year (christmas and summer vacation), and amid all that mystique seemed incapable of telling a lie. i think i was at least nine when i stopped looking for spigs on field trips to rural maryland. 2. never in my life: would i have guessed that twenty could feel so much like fifteen. and look like it too. 3. when i was five: i wore giant red plastic glasses and had a quarter-sized scab on my chin. i'm told i chose the specs myself, but the injury was completely my father's fault: he let me jump from a high ledge and land on my face, when the clear precedent was that he would catch me every time. if i'd been a few years older, that experience might have shaken my trust in the world. as it was, cynicism came much later. 4. high school was(/is): the ego-shattering debacle of my life. four years of heart-wrenching isolation. a blur of frustration and panic punctuated by random bursts of inspiration. misery i could never relive. take your pick. 5. i will never forget: marcus's smell, or how the first time we kissed he waited till afterward to tell me he was allergic to the spf in lip gloss. 6. i once met: al gore, and sat next to him at the {u{i}amistad{/i} premiere. i remember being so remarkably bored that i started counting the hairs combed over his bald spot. i was twelve. 7. there's this girl i know who: almost got my brother's initials tattooed on her wrist in miami last night. thank god for small favors, like the fact that she ended up being thirty bucks short when she got to the tattoo parlor, and had time to rethink before she found a money machine. talk about unreciprocated devotion, and teenage stupidity. 8. once, at a bar: i couldn't figure out why everyone was staring at me, until i discovered i'd come out of half of my top. that same night, a drunk guy offered me ten dollars to flash him. i didn't do it; this is noteworthy only because it's the first time anyone ever tried to pay me for anything sexual. that was before december's trip to new orleans. i racked up several more instances of the same on bourbon street. 9. by noon i'm usually: awake on weekends; asleep on workdays. or as good as. 10. last night: i dreamed i went to manderley again. just kidding. i did, however, dream that marcus died of autoerotic asphyxiation, and woke up very freaked out at four to answer his phone call. then read ten chapters of "the secret garden" and fell asleep angry at the world. 11. if i only had: season eight of "the x-files" on dvd, i think i'd be able to convince myself that i was finally happy. 12. next time i go to church: i will sit in the balcony doodling story ideas until the sermon begins, then pay rapt attention and daydream about the preacher making love to me with the same explosive passion. he's of the down-home southern baptist variety; he likes to throw off his jacket and pace up and down the aisles shouting and running his hands through his gorgeous natural conk. i know these aren't thoughts i should entertain on the lord's day. but i never pretended to be anything but an observant agnostic. 13. terry schiavo: had it rough, and i hope everyone learned a thing or two from that. 14. when i turn my head left i see: that the nasturtium needs to be weeded again, but i'm not going to say anything because i'll be the one who has to do it. also that my dad is home. that might make finishing this list difficult. 15. when i turn my head right i see: an array of photos from the first fifteen years of my life, including a kindergarten shot that confirms my memory of the aforementioned scab. somewhere between the sixth and seventh grades i apparently developed hips overnight, and little else. looking at pictures from that era is like poking myself in the eyes with index fingers dipped in hot acid. 16. does someone need me to: edit a piece or provide some other menial service for a four thousand-gp fee? that way i could quit all this fucking reviewing, which is quickly making me nauseous. 17. if i was a character written by shakespeare: i wouldn't be ophelia, thank god. or lady macbeth, as has been suggested more than once. i guess i'd be helena, and launch into that "call you me fair? that fair again unsay" diatribe anytime someone mentioned marcus's name. 18. by this time next year: i will still not have returned from my birthday trip to vegas. people will just be starting to worry. 19. a better name for me would be: "hellacious heather." or some such. something alliterative and paradoxical, and less ironic than shannon iman, which as a first and middle name could not fit me worsely. shannon means, literally, "slow water." iman suggests runway model poise and some degree of ethnic awareness. an irish/african slow/sexy mixup. hellacious heather it is. 20. i have a hard time understanding: love. no matter how you look at it, it just doesn't make sense. 21. if i ever go back to school i'll: be a junior and live in an apartment with krystle. likelihood of that happening gets slimmer and slimmer every day, actually. if i can find a way to finish out my last two years from home, i swear i'll do it. returning to school is the last thing i'm going to want to do in august. 22. you know i like you if: i confide in you about anything (putting you in a club of very limited membership, ten or less worldwide), smile at you without covering my mouth or sign any of our correspondences with one of these:  23. if i won an award, the first person i'd thank would be: ann m. martin, author of the "baby-sitters club" series, for teaching me how to write. i assume this would be a writing award. if not i guess i'd thank my husband for his undying support, or my lesbian lover for picking me up when the masculine world scorned me for the last time. 24. darwin, mozart, slim pickens and geraldine ferraro: revolutionized the field of genetics, wrote my favorite sonata, does not appear anywhere on google and has thus far eluded my awareness, in that order. 25. take my advice: if you've never been in love, don't ever try it. you are so much better off. this is important! 26. my ideal breakfast is: a handful of blueberries on the way out the door, but all too often this proves a recipe for stained-tongued embarrassment at the office. i know; to date i've been thrice burned. 27. a song i love, but do not have is: "the boxer," by simon and garfunkel. i had it until i sent my laptop to summer camp (better known as the sony repair shop). now i see greatest hits collections in the sale bin at every music vendor and remind myself, repeatedly, that patience is its own reward. also the original cut of bob marley's "sun is shining," which was playing the first time i ever saw a penis. 28. if you visit my hometown, i suggest: bringing your own entertainment. just kidding! with the recent advent of our "silver sprung," a veritable melting pot of wholesome family entertainment, silver spring has become the new area's new mecca for all things cultural. be prepared for a warm welcome from the locals, and to cringe a lot if you're a bush supporter. we've got recycling bins, tofu and flaming liberals in abundance. enjoy. 29. tulips, character flaws, microchips and track stars: seem like they'd be a good writer's cramp prompt, don't they? 30. why won't anyone: take my picture on a day when i look pretty? 31. if you spend the night at my house: i will pleasure you if you are marcus, and otherwise hope you're pretty good at entertaining yourself. when i have overnight guests i get randomly self-conscious and start worrying about whether the house smells good, and flit from room to room compulsively tidying things up. i insist on renting movies because it's the easiest way to keep a conversation going, and provides an excuse for the lights to stay off. i'm not that weird during the daytime, i promise. 32. i'd stop my wedding for: not a damn thing short of a medical emergency. if a lost love showed up to reclaim what he'd once turned away, i'd flash him my winningest smile and resume reading my self-written vows. 33. the world could do without: olives. there's a reason their name is an acronym for "so vile." 34. i'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: hurt someone i cared about. in fact, i'd lick the belly of a cockroach before doing most other undesirable things. bugs don't gross me out the way one might expect, even though some are about as big as i am. cockroaches, at least, are nowhere near as gross as flies, and people make a practice out of eating shit like scrapple every day. 35. my favorite blonde is: meg, of course. grim doesn't count because he's part red. 36. paper clips are more useful than: just about anything, when it comes time to clean one's fingernails or open a locked door. in my entire life, i don't remember ever using a paper clip for its intended purpose. oh, wait. that's excluding a dozen or so newspaper cycles in high school. other than that, though. 37. if i do anything well, it's: kiss. i'm not a bad writer, either. 38. and, by the way: i miss marcus. i typed the word "kiss" and saw a flash image of his lips in my mind. sorry this ends on a weird number. goddesstina (praised be her name) left out a couple. |
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