Abandonment, Didgeridoos, and Dreadlocks.
Hello, there.
Last time, I ended my entry because I had to go rescue David’s car from Covode [a 4+ hour drive]. He’s my friend, so of course I helped him out. All was well at first. He treated me to yummy Middle Eastern food as a token of his appreciation for my saving him, then we went to Covode to repair his gashed tire, then David drove back to Pittsburgh to get to his job by noon; I was going to take a nap for an hour before heading back to Cleveland. But things just didn’t work out as they should have. …then I sat. …and I waited. …and I sang. …and I worried. …and I picked my nose. …and I read a book. …and I tended the fire. For 19 hours, not one.
You see, Sir Avid just happened to be in such a rush to get back to Pittsburgh, he forgot to leave me a slightly indispensable tool with which to start my car—my keys. He forgot them in his sweatshirt pocket. I suppose I should mention that Covode is near nothing…absolutely nothing. Whilst this is usually a great thing and what makes Covodea so desirable and loveable, being up on a hilltop all alone with no food isn’t so fun. …well, okay, I’m being melodramatic… it was fun. I adore and need to be outside. …but I didn’t have my vital medicine with me [no, I’m not talking about the Pill here, thank you very much] and I’m not suppose to be 1 hour late taking it, not to mention hours late.
I had to walk down the hill to Duke’s Personal Care Home [it truly is as frightening as the name implies], dodge a surfeit of senile women above the age of 70, and beg the ‘nurse’ for permission to call two-hours away to Pittsburgh. She let me. I told David of my plight [inflicted unto me by that Stupid Avid] and he said he’d come and rescue me after his 12-hour shift and arrive at about 2 a.m. ‘Okay,’ I said…what else was I going to say?
I played in the woods, collected a large amount of tinder for tinder bin, pissed like a racehorse countless amount of times, ate pretzels [the only food I had] all day, gathered beautiful sandstone and slate to drag back to Lorain for my mother’s front yard, and taught myself how to play the didgeridoo on Scott’s didge he left at Covode two months ago. I’m almost ready to go on tour with that thing. …couldn’t you see it? “Lindsay and Her Didge…playing now through November 27th”… okay, so maybe I’m not that good, but last week I couldn’t even hold one note. I guess if I to go on tour with a didgeridoo, it’s a good thing I’m growing dreadlocks. Yup, you heard me correctly, I’m forming dreadlocks. I think those maverick locks on my head suit me quite well. I’m a strange, strange woman and now my head advertises that fact. Yay.
<< >> | archive
