Sunday, May 13, 2007

watermelon smells like nothingness

in spite of the record amount of blogging i've done (where are you o'neil?), i've actually felt like crap all day. no doubt due to the brain tumor. i've been ridiculously dizzy--standing, sitting, turning, doing the macarena...all make me want to hurl. lightheaded, woozy, spacy, cotton-headed. yes. this is complicated by the "tread lightly or i might bite back" state of my stomach. i eat something wrong (it seems to vary) and my stomach cramps up for two hours. so i want to eat to stave off the lightheadedness (is it really helping?), but i'm afraid to eat in case i anger the Stomach which may also end in me hurling. nevertheless, i've been eating constantly all day and the beast that is my appetite will not be appeased--right after i eat, i feel hungry. what is wrong with me?
after taking it easy for the entire day, i was still dizzy and running out of food. i decided i should try to walk to the store to replenish. it was a lovely, warm evening after all. i took it slow. if i couldn't make it to the bottom of the hill without keeling over, i was going to turn right around and crawl back up. i made it ok. actually walking outside in one direction felt nice and the dizziness wasn't so bad. this is what i saw and smelled:
that scent of pine forests again, stronger this time;
a rainbow-colored bird sitting on a wire above the canal holding a flapping fish in its beak;
deserted streets, full of smoke from the piles of weeds they're always burning;
the emerging clean smell of linden soap. it reminded me of a soap i gave mom once, and it reminded me again that it's mother's day. today i read a blog about a girl who is experiencing her first mother's day without a mom, and it made me even more thankful for mine.
after an entire day alone with my dizziness, i was strangely comforted by the grocery store. i shuffled along in my flip flops, noticing for the first time how uneven the floor is. i kept thinking, "is this just my brain fuzz, or is the floor warped?"
thank goodness, the only nice checker was working, so i left feeling encouraged by her cheer. i stepped back outside after being in the air conditioned store and was reminded, hey! it's spring. it smelled like warm evening flowers and barbecue smoke. i saw someone without shoes swinging their feet on a bench: carefree swinging, like a child. as i got closer, i was surprised to find it was an old woman. i'm gonna be that kind of old woman. i walked on, alternating the heavier bag back and forth between hands. i smelled watermelon, which has always smelled like emptiness to me. as i started up the hill to my house, i thought, "wow, i actually feel almost normal." the last scent before i went inside--my very own flowers permeating the night.

3 comments:

  1. ...and world peace, and, oh, oh, I want that thing where you're able to turn water into wine, and...

    Oh yeah, and tell the kings they can keep all that myrrh and frankincense crap. I want three blog entries from L-chan in one weekend. Glory be! Now that would call for a hallelujah!!

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  2. I used to be scent-driven. I could walk into a kitchen and tell you all the ingredients the cook was using in her soup. Then I moved to dry, dry Colorado, and my olfactory factory closed down.

    Thanks for the poetry of odors.

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  3. wow, it surprises me that you haven't been scent-driven in colorado. i was always more disappointed by not being able to smell things when i was in washington. so much of the year was so chilly that smells didn't really permeate the air anytime but summer. in japan sometimes it's overkill--assaulted by odors, but mostly i love it because it's a mix of really unfamiliar and then surprisingly familiar scents like incense and sauteeing onions.

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