The words in the title of this post mean: dog shit, leather, streets. In that order. I’ll start with the caca.
You can tell the honeymoon stage is over when dogs have been transformed into poop machines. A few weeks ago each was a funny, cuddly companion. Street “art” that charmed me 10 days ago is now clearly vandalism. How did this happen?
I think it was the fresh pile of doggie doo directly outside my apartment building’s door this morning. At the exact moment that I managed NOT to step in the doo, my senses were assaulted with an extremely loud, obnoxious motorcycle roar. My shoulders hiked up to my ears, my face twisted into a raison, and I said aloud, “Ah, big city life.” Only I actually said it in Spanish.
My dear, smart, sensible friend Vonnie gave me some very useful advice a while back: When you see shit in the road, step around it and move on. Done!
After dropping off my laundry my mood changed radically. The cheerful, gracious face and voice of the laundress put me right at ease. By now she knows me. She knows I am a little nervous and, metaphorically speaking, pats my hand and says reassuringly, “Don’t worry, dear. I won’t loose your socks. Everything will be clean and the same size at 18:00 hours today.” (By the way, it was.)
I must have some special sense for shopping, because once again I just happened to wander upon a street fair in progress. This one was quite hippie-trippie. The sidewalk cafes were all doing a booming business because the sun was out and it was warm today. I checked out my map. The neighborhood is called Palermo Hollywood. Really!
I made a purchase. Leather. Not a jacket. Not a belt, purse, or shoes. It’s a sculpture, actually. A piece of leather molded into the shape of a lovely female face. It will have a place in my house next to the masks. This will expand the collection. At this point there are pieces from South Africa, Costa Rica, Panama, Italy, and Mexico. Argentina now joins the others.
You can tell the honeymoon stage is over when dogs have been transformed into poop machines. A few weeks ago each was a funny, cuddly companion. Street “art” that charmed me 10 days ago is now clearly vandalism. How did this happen?
I think it was the fresh pile of doggie doo directly outside my apartment building’s door this morning. At the exact moment that I managed NOT to step in the doo, my senses were assaulted with an extremely loud, obnoxious motorcycle roar. My shoulders hiked up to my ears, my face twisted into a raison, and I said aloud, “Ah, big city life.” Only I actually said it in Spanish.
My dear, smart, sensible friend Vonnie gave me some very useful advice a while back: When you see shit in the road, step around it and move on. Done!
After dropping off my laundry my mood changed radically. The cheerful, gracious face and voice of the laundress put me right at ease. By now she knows me. She knows I am a little nervous and, metaphorically speaking, pats my hand and says reassuringly, “Don’t worry, dear. I won’t loose your socks. Everything will be clean and the same size at 18:00 hours today.” (By the way, it was.)
I must have some special sense for shopping, because once again I just happened to wander upon a street fair in progress. This one was quite hippie-trippie. The sidewalk cafes were all doing a booming business because the sun was out and it was warm today. I checked out my map. The neighborhood is called Palermo Hollywood. Really!
I made a purchase. Leather. Not a jacket. Not a belt, purse, or shoes. It’s a sculpture, actually. A piece of leather molded into the shape of a lovely female face. It will have a place in my house next to the masks. This will expand the collection. At this point there are pieces from South Africa, Costa Rica, Panama, Italy, and Mexico. Argentina now joins the others.
1 comment:
Hey Jana, It's Emily. My mom gave me your blog address and I enjoyed reading about your adventures! It sounds like you are having so much fun. Hope to hear from you sometime when you get back into the US.
Post a Comment