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Let me tell you about the frog

8 Aug

So a man without a thumb (a Gatorfest story from a couple years back) was passing around a bottle of …rum?… and we were getting rowdy around the campfire.

And the guys were like let’s show this Brit how to catch a frog. Because there was this Brit there on her like first camping trip (she let everyone know like 4 separate times that she came from London) (but she didn’t live in London, she omitted that fact) and she kept saying bullshit cliches and referring to herself as exotic *eye-roll*. She said ‘Merica’ and that was just it.

Just an early twenties kind of annoying, you know? Except she looked way older than early twenties, so age is anyone’s guess. Act young, look busted… whatever, it is our weekend to be rednecks. We don’t get to be this free all the time. We only get together once a year.

It’s not like no one has ever been to England, either. I’ve been many a time and it’s usually dreary and just… England.

But she kept referring to herself as exotic.

Anyway. Rum and campfire and full bellies and the sounds of the river were kicking in and we wanted to catch frogs.

She caught one frog, made a big fuss about it, went back to the camp fire with her boyfriend (Aaron), snubbed her nose at a s’more Amber made for her, and these men, the alligator wranglers, the old school rednecks with beards and missing digits and with the cool scars, were like… fuck that shit.

Meanwhile I’m still catching frogs.

So they came down, took a picture of me with the frog, and told me to go put it in her hair.

I was like, “I can’t do that, she’s here with a prior lover of mine and that would just seem mean spirited and I don’t want that, she definitely won’t take it the right way, though it would be hilarious…” blah blah blah.

So then I was like “Well, what I will do is take this frog and put it down Aaron’s shirt.”

It’s important in life to know how to compromise.

So then I drop it down Aaron’s shirt (he’s the old lover by the way).

So I drop this frog down my ex-lover’s shirt because I thought it was fucking funny.

It wasn’t.

He flinches and the frog jumps out of his shirt takes 4 big leaps and goes straight for the campfire. Jumps right in.

Then it tried to like burrow under a log that was burning and a man reached into the fire and picked it up and get it out so it wouldn’t die. It is an animal rescue after all. These men are here to help the reptiles.

Frog with a death wish.

And then so he had a burned hand and there’s like a Phantom of the Opera of frog out there because it lived surprisingly, hopped right back into the river. The rest of the weekend they started calling me ‘Frog Catcher’, ‘Frog Killer’, ‘Frogicide’…

But mind you I did not kill that frog and it did try to kill itself.

That frog was like ‘Fuck it, I’m done.’

He was like hang out with Aaron or die? Rather die.

But I did not commit frogicide. Let me be clear. It lived.

 

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Animal Magnetism

7 Aug

So I got bit and stalked by a god damn enormous tortoise. Well…. nibbled.

It was like the size of a bucket upturned- it wasn’t a tiny little pet turtle. A garbage can sized tortoise.

There I was, cheering for this girl wrestling her first alligator out of the pond, and keeping an eye on the pile of gators edged up against the fence nose first, just waiting for an errant hand to cross over… considering their size… thinking about the gator the girl was wrangling and… then I felt something MOUTHING MY TOES.

On my list of fears it goes:

  • -Spiders
  • TURTLES
  • -Snakes

…well, no emu comes before snakes. Or maybe they are tied. Whatever. At any rate turtles just freak me out.

My toenails are painted blue and they told me they thought maybe she wanted berries, or a flower, or that it was the bright color (note to self, next year do not wear nail polish to the reptile rodeo rescue).

Then they told me if she did really chomp down I might lose a toe but she’d spit it out once she realized it wasn’t a plant. She is a herbivore.

This coming from people who have actually sewed digits back on or stored them in formaldehyde.

I was all fuck that but then that dang turtle followed me like a total creeper. If I took a step away, she took 3 steps forward. I went right and so did she. Mind games, man. Every time I turned around she was there. I tried doing a figure 8 and she did a little dance whilst staring me down. It was a stand off.

I got to live my nightmare. And I LIVED. So maybe that is progress? Who knows. Whatever.

Last year I helped man the Open Space booth for the state fair and I got like a few minutes to get away and do Duck Racing (didn’t win) and on the way back I petted a donkey. In serious slow motion it turned slightly and opened its mouth and BIT MY FINGER- mind you didn’t chomp because that’d be amputation right there- but bit down on my finger and wouldn’t let me go until the owner came out and got it off me. It hurt. A lot. My coworker, who would usually laugh at that (as would I), got worried. It held on hard and for a while. Maybe I looked like a carrot.

Maybe I’m just in high demand *wink*

I have gotten bitten by a lot of random things:

  • black widow
  • chagis beetle (just google that one cause it’ll be easier than me explaining it)
  • a bat
  • a frog
  • fish
  • I got a tick while sleeping overnight in the Boston airport. That one is a puzzler.
  • A friend one mine once bit me at an art show. Why? I don’t know.
  • bed bugs (thanks, Amber)
  • a rabbit

Anyway… just absurdity

If I see a llama, I assume it will spit on me, not that it might. Because if it chose one out of thirty people, it’d be me.

It’s just my animal magnetism.

 

A reason to throw a party… and to have it catered

17 Nov

​It was surprisingly warm last night in the Airstream. Low sixties, maybe high fifties. I’ve been sleeping in a wool poncho I got in Mexico, so that might very well have been helping as well. Before dawn, a crazy wind kicked in and I had to get up and secure some things, because even with windows and door shut, if not latched properly they rattle like hell. There are plenty of breezes that get through the seals. When I got back in bed Frank crawled under the blanket and poncho with me. It got cold, but not til the sun came up. Then it kept getting colder.

I woke up when the wind literally shook me out of bed. Frank had also skooched me to the edge so that spill was partially his fault too. Falling in the Airstream sucks. You hit everything. Like I could’ve literally landed my head in the oven. The camper was swaying so much because of the deflated tire, the uneven parking space, and the blasted super wind cutting down the mountain at 70mph. I could hear things outside snapping and falling and breaking. Desert debri stings.

I grew up in the south. I know you don’t stay in a trailer in a wind storm. So Frank and I put Cheese-cat outside (he has a safe spot) and went to the grocery store and laundromat. The awful wind wouldn’t stop and it was honestly pissing me off, coupled with a handful of folks being extremely deficient at their jobs, and Frank being a total jerk about some cheese snacks I had in my purse, I was having a truly awful day. I had to fight just to shut doors, keep groceries in their bags, my laundry off the parking lot, and it kept getting colder.

I haven’t yet unpacked any of my bags except a weekend bag from a month ago, because there is nowhere for me to put everything right now. I’m crowded. So at the laundromat I was that human (we’ve all seen them) who literally took off her coat, her sweater, and her socks in public by the washer and threw them all in, then hung out for an hour in only dress pants and a wife beater, doing a crossword by a glass wall on the busiest street in town. My eyes felt like they did when I had pink eye. Was the wind giving me pink eye? The idea pissed me off. I was stewing in crankiness. Not my best showing.

Some rando came over and offered to get me stoned. Seriously. I was that disheveled and unhappy. He buggered off and then people mostly left me alone. But then after an extremely chilly patio beer with Mr. Frank and a pretty sunset we decided to get a cheap hotel room and a warm bath. We shared some junk food and I changed my poncho and now all I felt was tired. 

Oh, and pure joy. Because on the way to get junk food I saw this beauty and had to do a double take.

That’s right. Waffle House has a food truck. So life headed in at least one right direction today. Kaboom, y’all… now what sort of party should I get catered?

You can’t get there from here

2 Oct

It’s like the island gets smaller each day. I hope I’m not finally losing my last few marbles. What shall I do then?

There are/were three boats. The boats come from three ports. The one to Port Clyde is the mailboat, and that’s the one I generally take. Exiting the Laura B or Elizabeth Ann, you’re then stuck in Port Clyde, which is also super isolated. Not even a hotel. It’s like escape is incredibly difficult.

Eh, I’ll figure it out. The time to plot is now and time is running out. Soon there’ll only be one boat and eventually it’ll only come once a week. Nope. Not spending the winter on this island. It’s cold enough now.

Monhegan Solitude

11 Sep

I’ve been reading the Graphic Canon series edited by Russ Kick. It is an awesome compilation of excerpts of graphic adaptations of classic literature. I enjoy it very much.

I’ve worked my way from the Epic of Gilgamesh to the Popol Vuh (Maya creation story), Greek plays, Shakespeare, Milton… and this rainy, blustery, cold evening I find myself at Keats.

It’s like he visited Monhegan himself. Couldn’t have summed it up better. Thanks to Hunt Emerson for this lovely interpretation.

 

The Gambler

9 Sep

Somethings keep remaining funny long after your life should’ve outgrown them. 

  • Watching people trip and fall
  • Friends dropping ice cream cones, tacos, or other cherished food items
  • Listening to someone talk when they have no idea they have food on their face or something in their hair
  • Making someone pull your finger

Now, I know I should be an adult and not chuckle about childish things, but they still crack me up. What’s a girl to do?

I made a friend pull my finger last night, and afterwards said “woof, that’s a relief. That one was a total Gambler.”

He didn’t understand what I meant while I was dying of laughter.

“A Gambler?”

“Oh yes, Bekah’s dad came up with it while we were in college and there was a sharting incident. You know, ‘you’ve got to know when to hold ’em.

Luckily, he was as childishly amused as I was at that.

Viva grown up life!

Nope Nope Nope

8 Sep

It rained last night and a lovely dense fog sat on the island all morning. When I got home from work I realized a screen had fallen from my window so my room was full of flies and mosquitos. Great.

I went to tidy up and get a fly swatter. Then I saw the new arrival. An unwanted roommate. 

Now a spider is a valuable asset in biting black fly and mosquito country, but I severely dislike them. Like a lot. I’ve been pinned in terror to the other side of my room. My housemate won’t even come in, it’s so creepy.

I swear I can hear it whispering my name. 

Nope. I have two options now. Move, or sleep with one eye open. Moving seems easier. I didn’t like any of this stuff anyhow.

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