Here are some short pieces based on things that have happened in my life recently.
Death and Comedy
"She talked about death," I explained to my mom as I discussed the comedy show I'd just been to. Her puzzled voice came back over the phone, "So what was funny about it?" I realized I didn't quite know how to describe how it was funny, but it was. I realize this is the essence of comedy as nothing kills a joke like explaining it. But I found it cathartic to laugh about a dalliance with death or about how while we love our pets, we do hope we outlive them. I have been ghosted by death these past few years. Now, it's not ghosting in the sense that I am let down by death not showing up, but death has ghosted me none the same. I keep being told death is coming for someone I love, that soon I will meet death in this form, but then the deadline is extended once more. And I celebrate that extension, but it is a readjustment, a painful stretch each time to reframe my mind and expectations. So taking a turn to just laugh, felt like relief.
Fading
My temporary tattoos came out blurred. This is likely because I moved and didn't peel off the border of the backing properly. They were still okay though. It was a fun thing to do with my body and I need more of those in my life. As they've begun to fade with showering (and especially sunscreening), they have become clearer. The smudges were lighter in color and so faded away first, leaving the intentional lines last. Now, though faded, they look how I wanted them to originally. Now, I will miss them when they're gone. Perhaps there is meaning in that.
Racks
There are rows and rows and rows of racks and racks and racks of clothes. They are organized by color, which is visually lovely, but how do I find my size? Do I first have to find a shade I like and then hope it's a fit? I quickly grow tired of this exercise in futility. I'm reminded how just the day before I watched a friend whom I used to share clothes with, try on cute dresses and be reminded that I now outweigh her by over 100 pounds. It was a friendly moment of seeking fashion advice, but for me it was a reminder of what I'd lost.. There is a clothing swap coming up and while I look forward to it, I doubt I'll find anything I want. Well, that's not quite accurate. I will find things I want and used to be able to fit, but I'm sure I won't find anything that I will both like and be in my size. I wish I wasn't so focused on my size. Like I wish I just lived in my body as opposed to constantly analyzing it. Now sometimes I do, I don't have a constant inner monologue about scales and pounds. But moments like the racks or the friendly fashion advice or a clothing swap can occupy an inordinate amount of my mind.
Stomach
My dad's stomach is so big that it looks like someone drew a beachball under his shirt. And not one that flows well from his chest either. No, there is a dip even, just like he did have a beachball under there. I notice him rest his arms on top, crossed. He does like me there, at least I tell myself that, but he often crosses his arms as they rest on his engorged stomach. A vague memory floats across my brain of being in college. One of my friends, who is now a mother, talked about how she wanted a stomach so big she could rest things on it. I don't remember if she was referring to being pregnant or just having a belly, but it stands out to me now. I wonder if my dad ever wanted the same thing.
Temporary
I find myself shopping online for temporary tattoos. I want to have fun with my body and enjoy it and temporary tattoos seems like a way to adorn myself without the fear of it being something permanent. I may get a permanent tattoo one day, but I want to experience the joys of trying new images out before committing to such a painful and lasting process. But what do I want in a temporary tattoo? I know I want an alligator, but this isn't very popular. I also want an alpaca, but it must look like an alpaca and not just a llama. Perhaps a quote? But what quote? I love Winston Churchill's, "If you're going through Hell, keep going," but he was kind of a bastard, wasn't he? Maybe I'll get some holly, because I have a sense of humor. Maybe just some pretty flowers would be nice? But what else means something enough to me that I'd decorate my body with it even just for a few days? I'll gladly accept recommendations, but I can't guarantee I'll take them. Maybe I could have a temporary tattoo party. That way, I can just let go and have my friends paste images on me that they think would complement me. And friends often know you better.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
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