I Have a Confession to Make
Sometimes, when I'm on the stoop when I'm home alone, I'll position myself in interesting shapes in the hopes that it inspires the imagination of someone driving by.
My cheeks were hot with embarrassment when I even thought about writing this blog, but then I had a conversation with someone who inspired me to blog in the first place and then I stopped being ashamed.
But this is a thing that I do regularly. Y'all, I just feel like the front stoop of the Professor Haus is so cinematic, so when I stand out there with my beans in (that's what I call my earbuds - they look like lil beans!)
So I was doing that just a few moments ago, listening to Weezy, hanging out on the stoop in the middle of the night. When cars would drive by I'd be conscious of my body placement, sometimes even placing my hands in dramatic ways on my head.
Other times I'll put my body in old dance class shapes. But that's more because my brain is like "Can we still do this?" and it asks at the strangest times. So I answer and weirdly the answer is most often yes.
I'm very impressed at how many time steps I remember from tap class!
And it's not like I pose when cars drive by, I'm just aware of the story they could be building about me in their head as they pass by. So, I'll settle my body into a pose that I feel would fill a storyline.
Yikes. This sounds crazy to type out like this.
I never come up with any of their stories about me cause I'm too busy categorizing the cars.
This is another embarrassing stoop thing that I do. Even when alone.
I'll sit there and "call out" the cars in my head. Or aloud, if Mickey's there... we're half thinking about starting a weekly game of stoop bingo based on this silly habit of mine.
So what I do is... say what color and style the car is. So much fun, right?
But, y'all my brain likes patterns, so this is, like, a chill way to look for patterns that don't matter.
I really don't know, but I do know that a whole lot of white SUVs drive on the road in front of our house when I'm outside.
Here is my current view, btw.
It was snowing earlier, but it's not now.
I've been kind of worried about what winter's gonna be like cause I ain't experienced a proper winter since I was in 1st grade. But, it's not been that bad so far.
I found some thermal pants that don't make my neurodivergent ass twitchy and I even learned tonight that I can comfortably wear them underneath my jeans for extra warmth.
Mickey's also bought me so many jackets, because I had literally zero. When I went to New Orleans a a decade or so ago for NYE, I had to borrow a winter coat. I was unprepared for Michigan.
Now, however, I am coat rich and for a variety of styles. Tonight I was layer crazy with my thermal leggings, jeans, puffy-sleeved multicolor dress, teal sweater, pearls and a cropped hoodie I call my "Cookie Monster" hoodie for some reason. And I felt very comfortable and happy.
(this is me after removing some layers and adding a stripey-shirt and hat I bought at the market this evening.)
I can't say I felt that way in my Florida outfits.
Or on my Florida porch.
Which is why I'm only embarrassed to ADMIT to my dramatic shape-making on my Michigan stoop. I've not once been embarrassed to do it.
I don't know why I took the time to write this tonight. I thought about it (and wrote the first paragraph in my head) on the stoop, but then started the movie and completely forgot.
Then my brain was like, "Didn't we start a blog?" and I was like, "No, we're just chilling." but then it was like, "I'm pretty sure we had an idea." and then I remembered the idea.
And here we are.
If you made it this far, I'd love to hear about the weird shit you do, too. And I mean weird as a compliment.
I dance when no-one is looking if the music moves me. Charlie had bought me the cd of the Buena Vista Social Club in ‘97 when we had a big living room. I was dancing, flinging around in my version of ’Theodora Duncan Dances the Tango’ when he walked into the room. He caught my eye and then caught me in his arms. Neither of us has a drop of Latino blood but we both love the music, and our cracker feet move to it.