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Showing posts from September, 2012

Won't back down.

If I could write your story, I would underline Joy with a special emphasis on Adventure because I know how you like that sort of thing.

I would include rich and detailed illustrations of wildlife but safely contain it within the chapters of your youth. You would be a horse whisperer, riding bareback into a fiery, red sunset.

There would be quiet for thoughts and laughter for music. And, I would hum along to your smile.

I would write of carefree wanderings and invisible fences. You would climb or skip or dance or fly. You could even sing and everyone would clap with delight from their folding chairs in your garden.

I would write you a fresh canvas and your palette would be vibrant and warm. Brush and ink and clay and silk: You'd never be longing except to be home when you climbed too high or wandered too far.

I would write you in a thunderstorm, complete with flashy lightning. You might have doubts and you might get drenched but I wouldn't have to imagine your courage.

I …

If you put me to the test, if you let me try.

I let a Baby Dentist drill a hole into my mouth and remove the nerve and pulp therein. Through the fog of nitrous oxide and Gungor piping though my earbuds, I considered this situation from several perspectives. Really. For real.

A) I considered the instinctive fear I felt having this dentist so fresh and new. Watching him explain terms like irreversible pulpitis to me was as looking into the face of my own child. As delighted as I am looking upon the faces of my sons, I would not welcome them into my mouth with an extremely large needle or an extremely large drill. Etc. Then again, I know his momma must feel so proud of him. Education, dental college, landing a sweet gig in the suburbs. Etc.

B) As I considered his mother, it was for the sake of her I purposed to place my trust in this infant of dentistry. While I'm certain his education is as excellent as his web bio claims, he no doubt lacks a huge component of excellence: Experience. Perhaps, I was even his first, as evidenced …

NTGOAP: Soapboxy

• My family groans as I try to persuade them to join me in watching biopics on fascinating historical figures.

• They just don't know what they're missing.

• It occurs to me, however, it may be ever so slightly obnoxious to watch a show on the Renaissance just to see whether or not the filmmakers got it right.

• Mostly they do but I'm obnoxiously smug when they don't.

• But that's not near as obnoxious as a random web surfer leaving a trail in my blog stats that leads back to a pornographic website.

• One glimpse is more than enough to taint my subconscious.

• It's disturbing not because I'm a prude but a Woman.

• Free from the chauvinism of history where women had little say over their lives or bodies, I am puzzled over the willingness of those that reduce themselves to body.

• There's no freedom in exploitation.

• Just ask the women of the Renaissance.