After 9 pm I just can’t think any more. I can’t read or write and I don’t even feel like talking. I just want to be entertained, but we’re all caught up on Dexter, True Blood, Breaking Bad, The Misfits, Weeds, Madmen, AND Downtown Abbey. So what’s a person to do?
Online shopping. Sad but true. All I have energy for is looking at stuff online. Shopping is always rather brainless but I’m taking dumb a step further. In terms of intellectual activity, this is the lowest of the low. I’m using only the most primal part of my brain, the part cavewomen used for picking the maggots out of the meat or fleas off her husband’s hairy back.
When I’m trolling the internet for a good hippocampal buzz, I never buy things, I just look, but the more I look, the more I regress. Evidence of my deterioration can be seen in the items on my wish list. Here’s a sample:
Earrings that look like they must have belonged to Frida Kahlo. I imagine myself wearing these earrings against hair that is suddenly long, black, and glossy. Some dark, handsome man wants to dance with me, but I cannot, no no no no, because as you can see when I pull back my shawl, my torso is covered in a body-cast painted with fantastic pictures. “Lo siento,” I tell him. “No puedo tango.” His dark eyes look sad as he kisses my hand. (These earrings are so big they would probably rip my ears off but remember, this is all in my head.)
Set of 8 coasters, each with a different picture on it, and when you arrange them just so, you’ll find an image of Eve reclining with a snake and an apple. These are plates you don’t eat off of, plates you hang on a wall or set in some precious display, the epitome of uselessness and decadence, I admit, but would you want to serve an hors d’oeuvre on Eve’s nether regions? (Well, I guess it depends on what kind of party you’re giving.)
A bottle with a sculpture inside allegedly done by a prisoner of war. Which war, I wonder, and was it made in prison or later? I guess sculpture-in-a-bottle is an interesting way to pass the time if you’re cooped up or suffering from PTSD. If I bought this, every time I looked at it I’d be filled with curiosity.
Oh, now I get it, I guess that’s why they call them curios.
9 tiny crystal glasses etched with sailing ships on rolling ocean. When drinking from these, you channel viking spirits. After a couple shots, I might stand on my chair and recite The Drunken Boat by Rimbaud.
A vintage danish troll horse just like the one I had as a kid. At first glance it’s damn ugly but the longer I look, the cuter it gets, until I just want to carry it around with me in my pocket at all times so I can pull it out whenever I want a good giggle.
An old field guide of birds that’s been repurposed, folded, scissored, and collaged into a piece of pop-up art about birds. Don’t think too long about art vs. science, just enjoy.
An air plant. It’s a plant that does not need dirt. All you have to do is squirt it occasionally with a mister. This works for me on so many levels.
And, lastly, a bright red Oaxacan carved wood octopus.
And now, it’s after 10 pm and I’m exhausted. Truthfully, after 40 years of wanting, 40 years of falling in love with things and then putting them out on the curb after they’ve lost their charm, I don’t want much any more. Having these things on my wish list is not just as good as owning them, it’s better. It’s free. I can visit them any time I want and I never have to dust.
And all I really want is a foot rub.
Happy Holidays to you. I hope you get what you really, really want.
What’s on your wish list?