Malihini, n. visitor, newcomer, guest, transplant
This was once a nice little blog about Hawaii, but since my husband's suicide it's devolved into a place where I mutter against the wall about grief, fandom, religion, queerness, and nonsense. As one does!
Sunday, September 8, 2013 I first heard of Claudia Brown when I was about 8 weeks pregnant and nauseated by the smell of oxygen. I had already had one extremely disappointing visit with an Ob-Gyn out in Waimea (grimy carpets, dead-eyed nurses, and a dismissive and distractingly attractive male gynecologist). I was taking my toddler for a walk along our little gravel road to see the horses (don’t breathe: horse-sweat, hay, grass, animal hair, poop) and feed them papayas (don’t breathe: too pungent, too fleshy, with an overripe kerosene off-gas). We ran into our neighbor and her leaping and spinning three year old, who was tanned to mahogany and naked except for a tutu. The little girl pointed at her mom’s watermelon-sized belly. “HIS NAME IS POPCORN!” We chatted about birth and doctors and midwives, I told her how much I had loved the midwife-run birth center on the Big Island and how unimpressive my visit to the Ob-Gyn had been. She said, “Oh, you’ll love Claudia,” and dash...
I have to say, I was shocked to discover that Mormon widows go through a slutty stage. I mean the church-every-Sunday, garment wearing, sealed in the temple types. The things they get up to, honestly I was clutching my pearls! (And my opera glasses!!) They engage in heavy petting after playing pickleball, they hike the Y and make out in their Suburbans with divorcees they met on LDS Singles dot whatever. They enjoy necking with elder singles they find on facebook recently bereaved widows groups. Those widowers, they’re a hot commodity. They have no shortage of action. I was in Utah right after Matt died, and all of my widow friends were nice Mormon ladies in grief. And, not gonna lie, in heat. And I love that for them! Even though I thought it was kind of funny to hear about their moms-gone-wild-exploits, it made perfect sense to me. They've been married -- they've been sexual grownups for years or decades. And they are not messing around for the sake of it-- they are takin...
By the time I meet my students in the 7th grade, they are already either readers or non-readers. It's easy to tell them apart. When I tell the class they can borrow any of my books, any time, the readers go goggle eyed and attack the shelves. The flip through books, they critically examine the covers, they find favorite and familiar authors, and read the blurb on the back. They recognize books from movies, and they have no problem finding a stack to check out. The non-readers aren't sure how books work. They will read a word or two on the cover and maybe look at the picture. They don't open the books, or read the back or the subtitles. They are stumped. They cannot operate books-- they don't understand the technology. What's the difference between these readers and non-readers? What happens in their lives before the point they enter my English classroom? It's nothing big, or hard, or expensive. It requires no expertise or tutoring or grueling work to shape t...
Becca, I love this blog and this is a brilliant post!
ReplyDeleteHi it's really very beautiful. And all women like jewellery because that's what make them more beautiful.. :-)
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