Curiouser and curiouser
Apr. 12th, 2006 12:08 amJust before I stepped into the shower a little while ago, I was forced to confront the two Mysteries of the Move. The first being, my cool turquoise hat! When it started to get chilly last autumn, I searched for it to no avail, yet refused to believe it had somehow gotten lost when I moved into Château Punkie. I don't lose things, duh! The second mystery is, how could I have misplaced a lovely giftbox of Body Shop scented soap bars? One bar, perhaps, but five whole bars of different colours, in a nice box with a bow? Inconceivable! In vain did I look in every possible nook and cranny in the bathroom, even stopping to reorganize some things. Once I was out of the shower, and still suitably annoyed about the soap, I decided to look in my room-length bedroom closet, since there are a couple of boxes of random things in there. No soap, but I found the hat! Cleverly hidden it was, right behind the centre door (the closet has three sliding mirrored doors, two of which are in the same groove, so you can only have one section open at a time), just about the only spot in the whole closet you can't see unless you actually have your head inside it. So now I have my hat (yay!), though it's rather dusty and I missed a whole season of wearing it. Still no soap. Then I came into my sewing room a checked in a few boxes on the top shelf of the closet. Still no soap. Maybe the box up on the top shelf above my computer desk? Unlikely, but wouldn't hurt to look, right? As I was sliding the box off the shelf, it knocked over my wooden triceratops skeleton, also a resident of the top shelf and the poor beast fell down to the desk, neatly snapping in two between the second and third ribs.
For a second I just stood there, staring at it. My father had bought it for me when I was four or five and going through my dinosaur phase; he'd helped me assemble it (it's one of those skeleton "puzzles") and glue it together because it wasn't that stable and I wanted to put it on my dresser, I think. It's followed me ever since. The funny thing is, though, that the very moment it broke, I remembered that this morning, I dreamt that I was showing it to M-P, along with a similar stegosaurus skeleton (which I never owned in real life). I was explaining how the triceratops' back left leg was kind of wobbly despite the glue (true) and how the poor stegosaurus' back had been broken in two. Why the hell would I even dream that? I can go for months at a time without even thinking about my triceratops, unless I have to dust. In fact, I can't remember the last time I even noticed it existed at all!
Oh, and the soap wasn't in that box. Now all I have to show for my endeavours is a broken dinosaur. Would it be terribly sentimental of me to put it in storage? I don't think I'll be needing it in Japan, but I don't want to throw it away, as it's just about the only dinosaur thing I kept, apart from a few books that are at my parents' house.
Conclusion: I'm psychic about miniature wooden dinosaur skeletons and I can't find my soap.
For a second I just stood there, staring at it. My father had bought it for me when I was four or five and going through my dinosaur phase; he'd helped me assemble it (it's one of those skeleton "puzzles") and glue it together because it wasn't that stable and I wanted to put it on my dresser, I think. It's followed me ever since. The funny thing is, though, that the very moment it broke, I remembered that this morning, I dreamt that I was showing it to M-P, along with a similar stegosaurus skeleton (which I never owned in real life). I was explaining how the triceratops' back left leg was kind of wobbly despite the glue (true) and how the poor stegosaurus' back had been broken in two. Why the hell would I even dream that? I can go for months at a time without even thinking about my triceratops, unless I have to dust. In fact, I can't remember the last time I even noticed it existed at all!
Oh, and the soap wasn't in that box. Now all I have to show for my endeavours is a broken dinosaur. Would it be terribly sentimental of me to put it in storage? I don't think I'll be needing it in Japan, but I don't want to throw it away, as it's just about the only dinosaur thing I kept, apart from a few books that are at my parents' house.
Conclusion: I'm psychic about miniature wooden dinosaur skeletons and I can't find my soap.