Artful Scheme of Happiness

Mottley's Crew

I braved death today. Yes, that's right, I braved death. Today, you see, I attended the Pacific Northwest Chihuahua Gathering, a picnic for chihuahuas and the people who love them. And since I am dangerously allergic to dogs, God could easily have called me home while I was there. One bite, one stray lick, and it all could have been over. But here I am, writing this to you, so obviously I survived. How's that for an anticlimax?

I don't know what I expected to find. I think I was envisioning a huge park with thousands of chihuahuas roaming around in great, squeaky herds. Packs of midgety dogs zipping around on little chicken legs, terrorizing small children when they weren't busy peeing all over. (I leave it to you to decide who'd have been doing the peeing.) I definitely imagined that I would be toppled over by a group of determined Lilliputians and licked to the edge of oblivion. But, though that would have been fun, there were no great herds to be seen, no packs to scare me up a tree. Just a group of nice people with their sometimes adorable, sometimes homely little dogs.

I'm pretty sure I'd have lost my heart to one little fellow if I'd been able to touch him. That not being the case, I returned home and am now resting safely in my allergen-free (ha ha) house.

posted by art @ 9:27 PM

A Happy Bus Story
Why I smile every day on the bus (even if no one is talking about Bhucatan)

I usually have cause (after cause after infinite cause) for complaint whenever I ride the bus. People, after all, are loons. Some days I even think that I might be the batty one because I don't spend my time on the bus bandaging my fingers or muttering profanities from beneath a cloud of alcohol fumes. (Who knows, it might be a good bet that I am the crazy one.) So you might start to get the impression that there is not one single good thing about ol' #358. But there is; there is one good thing (one), and I feel I should tell you about it.

On every sunny day, when the bus exits from Aurora and starts lurching through Greenlake, we pass a hillside that is covered with grazing bunny rabbits. Herds of bunnies of every color and size sit placidly chewing up grass, unperturbed by the cars and buses and hikers and bikers that roar or trundle past them. Some people (morons, I like to call them) squeal loudly with delight. Others get a hungry look in their eyes (endless pots of delicious hasenpfeffer). I smile inside, preferring to keep my joy to myself. But just so you know, I do smile. Every day, and broadly.

posted by art @ 7:39 PM

Speaking of repugnance...
I'm on a roll here, people...

The other day, on an exceptionally hot and fragrant bus, I was sitting and quietly suffering (see infra) when I noticed a man wearing a hat, a coat, a peach SARS/Monkeypox mask, and flannel gloves. When I see something like that, I have to wonder, "Is he protecting himself from ME, or me from HIMSELF?" But then I think, "OK, Howard Hughes, whatever you want. As long as you neither touch me nor try to strike up a conversation with me, you can do whatever you want." After a while, though, Mr. Hughes took off his mask and gloves and proceeded to NIBBLE stick pretzels from a big bag.

The mysteries of bus life are eternal and insoluble.

posted by art @ 8:21 PM

Now who could have seen THIS coming?

You know you're getting old when you hurt yourself while you're sleeping.

I have, over the years, grown used to hurting myself while I'm awake. I sometimes bonk myself on the nose, periodically bite my tongue, and frequently bash into walls and doors with my unexpectedly large (and manly) shoulders. But now this.

The other day, I woke up and noticed that my left leg hurt. It hurt especially when I walked. It didn't hurt so much when I did yoga. But when I walked, it felt like a tendon was quickly, and with excruciating, blazing intensity, unravelling. I attributed this strange occurrence to the usual surfeit of evil humors with which I am bombarded and went on with my life. Oh how naive I was.

I was reading on WebMD this morning about serious leg injuries, and do you know what I learned? I learned that I might, dare I say probably do, have tendonitis. This may sound innocuous to the average person. But OH NO IT ISN'T. Turns out that my tendonitis, if left untreated, may, WILL, result in PERMANENT DEFORMITY. That's right, PERMANENT, HEART-RENDING DEFORMITY. In a few weeks time, having lived with an almost unbearable pain, my leg will shrivel up and become a useless flipper. My other leg will become corded and gnarled like the trunk of a mighty (ugly) oak. My arms will lengthen and my spine will fold in upon itself. (I'm not quite sure yet just why these last two things will happen ... but I know they will.) My face, once proud and full of life, will become a twisted mask of pain and shame. (Are you thinking Quasimodo yet? I am. OH BELIEVE ME, I AM.) I will become repugnant to those around me, and I will be fit for naught but bell-ringing.

Can you even believe it? I can. People with Recurring Tuberculosis (tm) often fall prey to these sorts of things.

posted by art @ 8:01 PM

I'm melting

It is 10:00 at night right now in Seattle, and it is 82 degrees inside my house. INSIDE my house. Could things GET any worse than this? Somehow, I don't think so.

posted by art @ 10:10 PM