Sunday, September 14, 2008

Pure Gibberish

I have had a splitting headache allday, nothing helped ease it. This post won't make any sense, or have any direction either. Because of same. It hurts greatly to think.
I woke up in my Tulsa motel room with this headache. At breakfast, Leti told me "You have a pimple on your chin, baby," adding to my enthusiasm. She was right . I do. We attended church in one city, Tulsa, and then drove like mad to the far side of another, OKC.

The Oklahoma State Fair was tolerable, even fun at inappropriate moments for me; my objective was to make sure that Leticia had a great time however, riding the rides she wanted to, seeing the crafts which she wanted to see; the sheep, the goats and goatcarts that I wanted to too, and all that. I did not mind this one whit of course, she's Leticia.
I won a stuffed blue poodle and a giant Winnie the Pooh doll for her, throwing softballs, and a live Goldfish by tossing rings onto bottles. There is something wrong here, I'm thinking.
I wanted to win some Excedrin somewhere. Or some J.D.

The three of us, zit included, looked at everything, we rode most everything except the bumper cars and the little boats on wheels... Leti decided that it was time go leave around 6:45 p.m., roughly the time that this skinny white dude and his wife came up to us asking, "I'll bet you two know where the best Indian frybread stand is!" Also about the time I nearly lost it entirely. Then it was that my headache entered Stage 6.
Incidentally, I directed them away from the best frybread I knew of. Hatefully.

On the way home along I-40, I confided to her the hurt I feel because of my "friend" Glenn.
Leti was consoling, even to the point of compassion, empathy (she's never trusted Glenn).
I guess she was right all along, again.
She told me to come home and post this crappy Gibberish LMC post even, to express my feelings. What if I don't know what to feel, except pain though? Stage 7.
Leti pulled a trick on me, there in my/our truck, that made me lighten up momentarily- she asked me to take out my wallet. I may have shrugged- don't know- but I reached into my back pocket to get it, and found nothing there.
IN either side of my hippockets. GONE~!

AFter the instant panic, she took out my wallet from her purse, telling me I'd left it setting on the table where we ate State Fair fare. She laughed at me, and that made me smile for awhile. But really, she ruined the moment when she associated my lost wallet to my lost friend. Leti leaned into me and kissed my cheek, opposite Mt. Zit.
She did mean well, lovingly, and I know that, despite Stage 10.

5 comments:

Father Gregori said...

Hope your stage 10 headache ends soon. I prescribe a couple of Excedrin and a nap. J.D. will only make your head ache even worse.

I am taking a couple of days off from posting anything to my blog, as I have a heck of a fever, sore throat, a nose flowing like Niagara falls and a bad cough. Luckily, no zits. But I feel like ten pounds of horse manure stuffed into a two pound sack.

Prudie said...

"I'll bet you two know where the best Indian frybread stand is!"

I would have replied, "Sure! I'll tell you right after you show me how to polka!" People are idiots sometimes.

I hope your headache is better.

The Localmalcontent said...

Leti was the one who got in the deadpan zinger first- she asked those two "What's frybread?"

Headache gone, finally, 3:30am. after lots of lemon-lime Gatorade and Bayer.

Don Smith said...

I just read your post LM ... "Welcome to Marriage 101." I have been wanting to ask you something, and I am glad that you have put this in a post.

It might sound stoooooopid, but I am gonna ask.

"If I was to refer to you as Chief, would that offend you?" I have been wondering about it for sometime, but did not think it was appropriate to do so?

I feel like it would be "friendly in nature, and not offensive, but I am not sure."

How would you think about it.

Father is right, stay away from the hooch, it is harmful to your body and it will make your babies be born naked!

DS

Jungle Mom said...

Leti was the one who got in the deadpan zinger first- she asked those two "What's frybread?"

Leti sounds fun!

We do that a lot when people try and practice unintelligible English on us!!! We all speak to each other in Yekwana and then we get strange stares and they start discussing which part of Europe we are from, in Spanish so we do understand. Great fun!!!!

I happen to have a great frybread recipe and we ate it a lot in the jungle. I taught the Yekwanas how to make it as it is easy and affordable and provides a change for them. I traveled to another village and found they were making it as well.
I'm sure the anthropologists would condemn me for 'breaking culture' but, hey, they like the stuff!