Wednesday, December 02, 2009

My thoughts on umbrellas

Living in Florida, rain can happen at any time.  A perfectly sunny afternoon can turn into a wet, muddy, hell within minutes.  Sneaky thunderstorms explode over Tallahassee with little to no warning and innocent class goers are constantly being caught off guard.  One thing they always tell incoming freshman is "ALWAYS CARRY AN UMBRELLA!"  And its true.  I always have one.  I have one of those little ones that folds up into a convenient little sausage to keep in my back pack just in case.  But when I leave the house in the morning knowing I'm in for a torrential downpour, I bring my BIG ASS pink umbrella.  Its one of those umbrellas that could keep a small African tribe dry in a monsoon.  Not the most convenient thing, but its much more useful than my little umbrella for one good reason: it actually keeps me dry.

So today we had a LOT of rain.  An entire street was shut down by police on campus because of flooding and the front yard of my sorority house was nearly completely drowned.   See picture.

Alright, but anyway...I am thinking about writing a letter to the umbrella makers, whoever they are, to complain about the unpracticalness of these micro umbrellas people are carrying around.  Yes I understand their convenience but REALLY, unless the rain is being dropped from a baby cherub's eyes, there is no chance of one of those keeping you dry.  I don't think they take into account how smart rain is.  It comes at varying speeds and frequencies and is even in cahoots with the wind, developing a way to come in and attack its prey SIDEWAYS.

I always see petite sorority girls battling with their umbrellas.  Everyone has had an umbrella turn inside out at some point and if that's not the most frustrating thing on the planet I don't know what is.  Whenever it happens, first you get embarrassed.  You're like..."oh shit I hope nobody saw that."  But then you're like, "oh well it happens to everyone." and move on from embarrassment to anger because now you are soaking wet with a broken umbrella and a mile left to walk.

So my suggestion is that the umbrella makers start using REINFORCED steel in umbrellas to avoid the frequent flipping of these contraptions.  I also suggest that they come up with a way to make them just as small and easy to store, but somehow when they are opened have the wingspan of a pterodactyl. 


Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Prose Poem for poetry class!

When You Forget How to Remember

Gram tells stories that trail off, fading faster than echoes yelled from the edge of a cliff.  “I knew a girl named Norma, she never wore pearls and the kitchen.”  Gram is backlit by a pool of early afternoon sunlight seeping in through the half closed blinds.  “When I met Roger he still had hair,” she says from the wide floral armchair under the window.  The narrow room makes her seem small, her delicate shoulders and slender neck silhouetted against the light.  The warm scent of butterscotch and chamomile tea hangs thick in the air, floating from the kitchen down the hall.  One of Gram’s nurses is preparing a snack.  A stranger in white opens the door to the drawing room and Gram’s mind leaves again.  She doesn’t remember reading me fairytales about trolls or billy goats or princesses.  She doesn’t remember sending me postcards from Rome or Paris or California.  She doesn’t remember where she bought the antique pie chest I will inherit one day.  One last hug and I am told to leave.  Her lucidity is fleeting even on her good days. I will eventually forget too.  I will forget how she used to bake cornbread on cool November nights.  I will forget her white seersucker shirt splattered with red sauce, the smell of her perfume mixed with garlic and how I used to see my reflection in the locket she gave my mother.  I am a stranger to her the same as everyone.
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