I'm up before the sun tomorrow because I'm volunteering at University of Michigan's Spring Commencement. This commencement is a fairly big deal because we've President Barry O giving the big speech. For my commencement, we had former President Clinton, so I think that I've had a pretty good graduation track record with send-offs being overshadowed by world dignitaries. Anyway, we were told to review the event website... just to be familiar with the proceedings, you know? I was caught by one particular line in the "Prohibited Items in the Stadium" section. To wit:
"...Additional prohibited items for this commencement include ALL bottles and containers, Leatherman-type tools, air horns, and umbrel--"
Wait.... just.... a minute....
"Leatherman-type tools?" Do they mean Leatherman like thisguy (R.I.P., by the way, you old bear)?
Well sorry, Gram. Sorry, Gramps. Leave the ball gag and ol' cat o' nine tails at home. We've got presidential safety to think about.
Little piece I did for a trade to get tattooed. He wanted a penguin being carried away by baloons in a lawn chair, instead, he got a gruff chainsmoking fighter pilot penguin. That's way tougher.
i took a belly dance class yesterday afternoon with a friend at the local Y. i wriggled and shimmied to middle eastern beats. i felt a little silly, but happy. no fancy coin belts or ankle bells for me, but there were definitely plenty to be heard in the tiny room. we danced in a circle following the instructor. the hunched little granny to my right used me as her visual guide. she was very cute considering i was probably not the best person to follow. i made kind of almost figure 8's with my hips and did serpentine arms and that one funky move where the dancer holds her arms overhead and shifts her neck from side to side. today i'm sore... i saw a woman in my neighborhood walking in a burqa today. it was a little disarming. only because while i have seen women in full burqa before, i don't think that i have ever seen one worn in the states and certainly not in my bucolic little hood. and now i'm wondering what she looked like underneath all that fabric and if she minded being so covered while her cute little son ran free. i could imagine that she is beautiful and young and full of hope and is plotting her escape from a tyranical beast of a husband who doesn't appreciate her poetry or know that she listens to dylan, cat power and the velvet underground...or maybe all of those things except that her husband really treasures her and she treasures God and her burqa is a statement of her devotion. i guess that i will never know, just as she will maybe never know the glory of having the sun baking her skin while lolling topless in the sand and the joy of floating weightless and naked with the seahorses and the kelp as ocean waves lap at her skin. c'est la vie... border="0" />
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