Saturday, February 19, 2011
What an odd title you might think. A grocery store, traumatizing? I must be mistaken you may be asking yourself.. no no my friend its true. Grocery stores have both embarrassed me and traumatized me, my last incident may have even left me with a bruise that hit more than my ego.
There was a time when i was about 6 years old and i recall my mom handing me one of those monstrously sized glass jugs of spaghetti sauce; the ones a practical mother of 4 purchases thinking she'll use up quickly but never does... While i was standing there thinking wow i am such big girl, holding a thing of spaghetti sauce that matched me in width something happened. Perhaps it was an itch i had to scratch, or my constant clamy hands that finally got the better of me, or the cute store clerk that winked at me, but the precious pressed tomatoes slipped from my hands and before i could even register what had happened a thunderous shattering echoed down the aisles of frozen food and canned vegetables. Spaghetti sauce sloshed on the tiled floor like a bad case from special victims unit. Shards of glass stuck through the sauce in a slightly grotesque and unnatural way. Of course all of the stares from the general public also felt very unnatural especially for a shy middle child who rarely got any stares at all. Naturally i refused to accompany my mother to the grocery store for a solid year after that incident.
There have been way too many incidents where i have either grabbed a stump of a leg thinking it was my mother or hopping on an unsuspecting citizens push cart thinking it was in fact my own.. Every time i looked up into the face of a garish woman a small electrical shock seemed to emanate through my body and leave a pink stain on my cheeks.
One time i stole a Kit-Kat. It was in fact an honest mistake, and a simple slip up or should i say slip in-to my pocket. To say the least I didn't eat another kit kat for a solid 8 years after that from my nearly mortal shame.
Valentines 2011. I had been having a fine valentines day. You know the usual, wollowing in my loneliness while i have to watch hundreds of thousands of couples snog(British term for kissing) and then trying to convince myself that in fact being single is in fact always better. Anyway my dear friend Natalie whom also happened to be single decided that we should treat ourselves to chocolate. I readily concurred with this idea. No Valentines day is complete without a single girl getting inebriated( intoxicated: i told you i liked words) by chocolate. We sped down to Smiths and walked directly to the candy aisle. It was one of those times where you were almost in awe of the beautiful of the colors and array of flavors the aisle had to offer you. We walked up and down the aisle multiple times figuring out just what was the perfect thing to binge on. I finally set my sights on the towering case of chocolate covered raisins. I raised my hand and ever so slightly caressed the case while i began to salivate like a Pavlovian dog. And just as my index finger glided across the plastic casing something came a jar. In fact the whole 3ft container came ajar, I saw the whole situation in slow motion. I was rained upon by raisins and got a good thump on the noggin from the container. Of course this caused quite the uproar with the staff. Within 12 seconds i found 1 manager and 2 low paid employees circling me. They swept the precious dried fruits into a dustbin while i just stood there unsure as to what was more red, my face or the blistering red hearts that seemed to be oozing out of the aisles. Well to say the least i grabbed 1/2lb of chocolate covered cinnamon bears as an alternate, and found myself a little peeved that they didn't at least offer me some of those fresh value reward points. Sure i probably cost them 7$ worth of damage but shouldn't a girl be compensated for extra ego humiliation on valentines day? Isn't it enough that i am eternally single?
Well i got my revenge, today i stole one organic chocolate covered raisin from the bin, i guess my pilfering skills from the kit kat days hasn't left me.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Silence filters through the crowd and moves along the wooden walls sculpted into acoustical perfection. The light from the stage crew gleams off of the mahogany and rosewood guitars almost mocking the audiences for their drab wardrobes and dulled skin. An man with the looks of a 14 year old given his crew cut and tightly buttoned dress shirt peaks his head outside of the stage door and gives the crowd a look of sly amusement. He then quietly walks onto stage and situates himself in the single chair. He sheepishly looks up and announces the name of his first tune and without so much as another word he began to play. His confidence on the guitar is the embodiment of everything his personality seemed to be lacking in. His hands moved like a ballerina or an abnormally slinky caterpillar crawling infinity up, down, and side to side. These hands could slide up and down the slender neck of the guitar within a single intake of breath and dance from fret to fret with the ease of the sun setting on any given day. I nearly felt like he was a magician for how he mystified me with his optical illusions. His fingers moved with steady grace but the sound emanating was something more like firecrackers or the worlds best tap dancer. For a man who spoke so little he sure can make a guitar sing. After a few masterpieces his compadre came onto the scene, a local guitar professor. This is where things took an interesting turn. The professor who remains anonymous( perhaps its because i forgot his name, or maybe its because i have an unlawful attraction to him) any-who he was a brilliant opposite of our dear other guitarist. The dualism they created was like an oxymoron. This new creature was tall and built with his shirt unbuttoned one button to far, his curly hair would frequently require a shake of the head to get it out of his eyes, and he had an ease about him that seemed to make everyone relax into their seats a few inches further. New sexy man was also very talented at the guitar. The combination of the two of them had a phenomenal effect on me.. i was blown away. New man also had this strange orgasmic grunt that would come out every so often, unannounced throughout the performance. These moments of passion seemed to hit when he could just no longer stand how great the moment on the stage, jamming like he was back with his boys in his parents dusty garage was. A couple of covers of Jimi Hendrix and Sting were incorporated into the classical concert and i seemed to fall even more in love with the whole situation. However, it made me wistfully think about my own guitar that had been collecting dust in the corner of my room. Perhaps today i will play, perhaps i will play again the next day, and perhaps i will enjoy my own music so much that i will develop my own, unannounced, grunts of happiness.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
There was a sequence of events today that led me to the impending question that is soon be arising on everyones mind what with the whole Valentines Day and what not coming up...and that is LOVE. That's right ladies and gents, Ryleigh is talking about love.
The day started rather uneventfully but took a turn when i received my first "Unknown" call in weeks. I was rather bored and decided this unknown caller deserved an answer. I was pleasantly surprised when i heard an unnaturally high pitched male voice with a thick Chinese accent. Without a second syllable uttered i had labeled the unknown caller as James Chen, an unforgettably lovable and.. flowing student from my days in China ( yes flowing, you'd have to know the fella but he has somehow perfected the art of incorporating interpretive dance into his every action). We chatted about this and that but James wanted to get to the heart of all things pertinent, LOVE. He asked me a question that really seemed to stump me.. " Where is your true love?" hmmmm well uh uh goood question James is about all i could muster. I don't know if i stumbled on the question because i didn't know if i was listening to some Walt Disney movie or because i too wondered where my true love was. Non the less i had no reply, which made me start thinking about love.
The day progressed and i found myself finger painting and making valentines cards with a four year old. She began to tell me about her true love, the handsome boy at school. I asked what he looked like and she drew me a picture of a green guy with pink eyes, indeed he was handsome! She then drew another character with curly locks which she explained as herself. Without a spare minute for analyzing the drawing she instructed me to carefully watch as she drew one long line from Curly and another long line from Sexy Green Guy. Then a small lump formed between the lines. "Did you see that!?!" "You know what they are doing!?!".....uh holding hands i bravely suggested. "YES, see that means they are in love!"
Well i seem to be lacking in knowledge of love so i decided making this curly 4 year old my guru. I asked her what you should say to someone when you love them. Her response was " Tell them you love someone, but you won't tell who because its a secret." Hmmm seems like decent advice.. i hear playing the mystery card on guys makes you more desirable or at least that's what page 32 of Teen Magazine told me. Later that night Curly even let me have some alone time to kiss my pretend boyfriend, the oven. If only adults could be as thoughtful as kids.
I can say that i have never been in "LOoooVVVee" and quite frankly i am starting to wonder if it is a wonderful hoax or a ploy by the government to boost the economy for the ever failing flower industry. I might be losing faith that love exists and no i really would prefer not to get 1,000 testimonials assuring me that love is real. And yes yes i know i am but the ripe young age of 21 but I would eventually like to catch the love bug and see what all the hype is all about so, maybe, just maybe, one day i'll find my own green skinned pink-eyed guy of my own that i can hold hands with and know that that means love.