Thursday, March 06, 2008

On Fi-yah

Do you ever do that thing where you're eating something requiring hot sauce (read: nearly everything) and you're dribbling a bit on with every bite? Yeah? With me? Then, THEN, you dribble WAY TOO MUCH on the next bite? And you look at it in horror - you can't throw that bit away because this is The Best Chicken Taco Salad Wrap You've Ever Eaten. So you take a deep breath, whisper, "God, but this is gonna hurt so good" and just shove that mofo in and chew for your life. And, deep inside your twisted little mind, brothers and sisters, you wonder to yourself if this is what people who have never achieved orgasm do to get through their day.

You HAVE? OMG, that just happened to me!! We're, like, connected.

Disclaimer: OK, I was only using Cholula, yes. It's not THAT hot. But I have done this exact thing with WAY hotter sauces, so yes, I am nearly as badass as I wish I sounded just now.

Mama Cerise

Here's your slightly squicky moment of the day. I heard this song by Annie Lennox, Mama, from The Avengers soundtrack. What, you may ask, was I doing listening to such a totally random album such as this? Blame Pandora, my dears.

I think this song is becoming my own song. You know those nerdy people who have 'a song'? Or, even worse, couples that have 'their song'? Well, Ramon and I can't claim the latter yet, thank god, but I think Mama's going to be my song for a while. The good? It speaks to a lot of things I think are true of me, and what I wish to be to my friends. The squicky? There's a lot in it, most of it, actually, that deals with how sexual and abundant the subject is, and how much the singer longs to lose themselves in her. So. Uh...I guess that's something that I want people to feel with me - that I'm sexual, very, abundant (there's not a diet in the world, my dears...) and joyful. Different. Unafraid, or at least unafraid enough to not cower away from being wholly and truly me.

This is more personal than I generally care to get, and I am sorry if this is seriously gross for you, but here's the song:

Mama - Annie Lennox

I was watching the woman that was walking down my street
Walking with grace, so beautifully, carefully
She's a big and pretty mother, big and pretty mother
Swinging her hand-bag back and forth so joyfully
She's drawing circles with her breasts in her jumper

Give me a big mother
Huge and loving one
I can crawl upon
And cling to

She's a large woman...
Warm and cuddly...
Wet lady...
Strong mother...

She's walking down the street in front of my window
Whistling funky tunes in the ears of my neighbours

Give me a big mother
One that will always want me
Hot, embracing mother
I can crawl upon
And cling to

Can't be safer, can't be more secure
Than with a breast in each palm
Than with a breast in each palm
That is the way that I was born
And that is the way that I want to die

Give me a big mother
Yes, a soft and wet one
That would caress me
In all those special places
Where's a strong mother
One that squeezes me
One that I can crawl upon

Yeah, so...a very weird image to paste onto a friend's familiar aura. But there it is. I've read somewhere that women spend their 20s getting taken care of, and in their 30s begin wishing to care for others. I was very pessimistic about my ability to ever get over myself enough to ever care for anyone besides my Ramon and my family (and that painfully imperfectly), but I'm watching myself get all Mama Bear lately, especially at parties where everyone's that combination of mellow and slightly crazed, where emotions are high and good-natured interventions are sometimes called for. I seem to find myself intervening. And I'm glad - obviously I'm still a good Gemini/performer personality: very ME oriented. I mean I'm never going to actually get OVER myself, but I'm so happy to have found friends that I'd put myself on the line for. And I hope that they feel magnificently loved. Even if it's loved by a slightly crazy, sexual, twisted, large-ish lady who never means to, but sometimes does, embarrass herself and/or anyone in her general vicinity.

It's nothing but love, darlings, and I feel it for you.


P.S. I don't, nor have I ever, thought that people with 'songs' are nerds. Or, at least, they are, but I do too and I've always been a proud dork, so...get offended, 'song' people, or not, but I'm with you 100%.

P.P.S. I am not unaware of the bitter irony, while we're on the subject of me becoming more of a mother the older I get, that although I sometimes embrace a Mama Bear role and love and yearn to be around many children as well, I have never wanted to bear children of my own.

P.P.P.S. If you think you'll ever catch me in a jumper (the American or UK version), think again.