X-mas triptych

Oh no! The new fancy washing machine is broken!

I've pushed every single button but nothing works!

How about we try reading the manual?

Bodies

I've had bodies on the brain lately, probably because last weekend, I traveled to Seattle to see The Bodies exhibition. If you haven't heard about it, its a exhibit featuring the corpses of unknown Chinese people. The skin has been removed from their bodies, and they are displayed to best show a particular system: circulatory, nervous, digestive, etc. Most people I tell usually scrunch up their faces now. "Ew. Dead bodies. I wouldn't want to go see that." That reaction was surprising to me, but then again, I never had much of a problem dissecting rats in high school science classes. But what's the deal? Everyone has a body ... how can one not be interested in what's inside it?

And anyway, the bodies are prepared by removing all cellular water, replacing it with some sort of plastic substance, so they looked more like scientific mannequins anyway--with the exception of their eyelashes and eyebrows, which for some reason were left on. Grossness is accomplished by bad smells, or slippy/drippy tactile sensation, and there was none of that. It was pretty hygienic. I was more grossed out by the Amtrak bathrooms.

Here are a few poetic facts I learned from Bodies.

• Children's bones grow faster in springtime
• Pulse is the artery wall, stretching with each heartbeat
• You are always shorter at the end of the day, and tallest just after rising in the morning
• After conception, everyone spends one half-hour as a single cell

There were two rooms that most intrigued me: the circulatory system and fetal development. Perhaps it's what they had in common: color. Tangles of arteries and veins were dyed bright crimson and electric blue, and were suspended in a glowing liquid. They displayed the vessels of different organs: the lung, the heart, the small intestine. Most interesting was the kidney. It was stuffed with vessels like pot holding a root-bound plant. I guess it's due to all that filtering the kidney does. In the fetal development room (which was introduced with a big sign warning you not to enter if you were the type to get disturbed by unborn babies), a display showed bone development over a period of weeks by dyeing the bones a deep red. I could still see the outline of the fetus, the developing tissue that held the unformed bones in place.

Womb: a conversation

lazydaisydays: did you see the creepy stuffed uterus, on the same knitty.com page as the wrap link?
kablammie: i wonder if that would go over well as a get well gift for someone who had just had a hysterectomy
lazydaisydays: now you'll never be without one
kablammie: just keep it in your purse
kablammie: it won't cause as much trouble there, as it did when it was inside you
lazydaisydays: plus it's machine washable
lazydaisydays: and matches your outfit
lazydaisydays: you could have several ... some pink, some striped, some with rhinestones for evening wear
kablammie: i bet you could make it into a coin purse
lazydaisydays: can you imagine pulling it out in the checkout line?
kablammie: or you could make it into one of those tampon-holding things
kablammie: ha!
lazydaisydays: that's AWESOME
lazydaisydays: i also kind of see it as a hat
kablammie: wombs are multifunctional!
lazydaisydays: who knew?
lazydaisydays: you could adorn it with little sperm fringe
kablammie: ew
kablammie: maybe the sperm is a tampon cozy
lazydaisydays: a tampon cozy?
kablammie: now i'm freaking myself out
kablammie: the shapes go together
lazydaisydays: keep your tampons at the perfect serving temperature
kablammie: i dunno!
lazydaisydays: i see it now...we get home...what did you do today honey? oh, i had a conversation about the fashion accessory potential of the womb
kablammie: a cold tampon is not a good thing
lazydaisydays: with the right marketing strategy, people will buy anything
kablammie: i am cracking up
lazydaisydays: you should write about this in your blog
kablammie: maybe. can i post the conversation? it's funny
lazydaisydays: absolutely
kablammie: i'll also post a pic of the knit womb
lazydaisydays: definitely

Have you ever taken three birth control pills at once?

I remember the instant it all fell apart--like a perfect storm. I had come home Friday night, exhausted from a week's worth of difficult work and sick to boot. My nose was a red, sore bulb; my lips were chapped and cracked. In the car on the way home I realised I had missed two days of birth control pills and pulled over to the side of the road to find the pack. I popped three in my mouth--the two I had missed plus one for that day--and swallowed.

When I got home, I dragged my suitcases inside and left them by the door. Pete was in the living room, sitting on the floor with his back to me. I circled and sat on the couch to face him. He didn't look up or say anything. He continued reading his magazine, picked up his glass to take a sip of beer, and placed it back on the table as if I had never entered the room.

I slumped backward.

"Are you punishing me?" I asked. A moment passed before he answered. He did not look up to meet my eyes.

"I'm reading the Nation." He took another sip of beer. The dog whined and stretched out. It was her sign that she was ready for her evening walk.

"Mo needs a walk. Want to take her with me?"

"No," he said. My eyes filled with tears.

"Why not?"

"I took her yesterday. It's cold." I stared at the ceiling. Waited a minute. Finally he looked away from his magazine, rose and went to his shoes.

"I can see this is a losing battle," he snapped.

"Don't bother!" I yelled. I ran for the leash so that I could get out the door before he could get his coat. He barred the back door. "Get out of my way!" I screamed. I ran to the front and unlocked the deadbolt. Mo was scared, but she had no choice but to follow. I dragged her out the door.

A perfect storm of exhaustion and estrogen. Three days of hormones surged through me and spilled out my eyes. Most of the time, I cry for brief moments. But this time, I could not stop myself. I wept the way Shakespearian heroines weep for their dead lovers. I walked in the dark, talking out loud and gasping and wailing, crossing the street or turning the other way anytime I encountered another person. A raving lunatic on birth control let loose on the streets.