ladybugs, peas and vaginas

Today I woke up with a ladybug looking me in the face from the other side of my pillow which means spring is on the way. You see, in Sewanee we don't rely on groundhogs to tell us whether or not they see a shadow to alert us of the coming of spring, we rely on the arrival of the ladybugs.

There's this war monument at the end of Tennesee Ave, the road on which I live. It's a hugemongous cross on top of what looks like a keystone, and it's surrounded by a black-fence-gate-thing. Each side of the keystone part of the monument is a memorial to one of four US wars; WWI, WWII, Korean War and Vietnam War. The cross juts up into the air about fifty feet overlooking the Winchester side of the mountain bluff. It is white in color, and at night there are flood lights that illuminate the monument so that when you're driving up the mountain from Winchester, you can see the monument. I have to admit, it's kind of eery. My point in describing this huge phallic piece of concrete is to say that when the ladybugs arrive, that is where they habitate. About 5000 of those buggers chill together there on the surface of the Christian war-penis until May when it gets really hot and they get the hell out of town.

---------------

Tonight, my ankle was really swollen so I got my trusty bag of peas from the freezer. They had become this huge rock-lump pea thing, kind of like when you boil spaghetti noodles but forget to stir--the result is a great big lump of what you had hoped would be individually separated enjoyable noodles.

Anyway, I took them into the bathroom to throw them down on the tile floor and guess what? The bag broke and the peas, they went everywhere. People in the hallway were like why are there peas everywhere? I ducked out of that place as fast as possible. I should probably go clean them up because I have a feeling that frozen peas on a bathroom floor are kind of like grapes on the floor of the supermarket. Did you know that grapes are the leading cause of supermarket accidents and comprise the majority of supermarket lawsuit actions?

----------------

I recently agreed to read a monologue from the perspective of an angry vagina (click on the title of the post) in an upcoming university sponsored production of Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues. Favorite line in reference to gyno examinations:

...all up in there like Nancy Drew with a flashlight working against gravity...

I have been reading the monologue non-stop since the script arrived in my university PO box. People on my hall are tiring of my perpetual need to act and speak as if I am a vagina. My response: Vaginas have feelings too!

-----------------

Also, a bunch of firetrucks just showed up at the house across the street. They're shining lights on the roof. I bet Nancy Drew is over there looking for a vagina! I'm gonna go check it out.