blue eyeliner

My sister was a hellion.  This is well established.  And although I am thinking of her today-- tho I do every day-- it's only notable cos I saw somebody's Twitter post of their sister; fairly reeking of the late 80's, early 90's-- resplendent in big hair and blue eyeliner.

If there was ever a hellcat to wear blue eyeliner, my sister had cheap-o cosmetic company, Wet n Wild, at her feet.  Smaller feet than mine, may I add, and two inches taller.  I could digress...  but I won't. (Perhaps at a later date.)

Elke got busted on a drug charge in New Mexico, and when they pulled up her records?  Florida dragged her back to serve a grand theft auto charge first.  Her harrowing tales of being subject to having her period, chained up with a van full of men, were nothing I ever could have dreamed in my worst possible nightmare, yet, she persevered.

Soon after her arrival in Broward County, my mother and I were informed we were not allowed a visit because she had landed herself in solitary confinement for fighting.

It took six weeks before we could actually visit-- and though Mom and I had put money in to commissary-- I was surprised by my sister's makeup when she ended up on the other side of the glass.

"You look...." I stammered, "...beautiful.  How do you get makeup in here?"

"Ah, we just use colored pencils," she said.

She had scrubbed on a dark blue pencil inside her upper lid, and an aquamarine for her lower.  The result was truly lovely.  And hard-- when you knew where it came from.

...

A few years down the road, my sister was sick, dying--- though I didn't know that quite yet--- and I met a very handsome boy in a club.  On a night.  A great night.  (Also, a different story.)

We went on a date.  And I found out he was a corrections officer.  In Broward County.  And through the craziness of that date, he figured out me and mom; going to visit my sister.

"Oh god, I remember you and your mother coming to visit 'the crazy girl'", he said.  "That's your sister?  She was hot."

Ha.

He finally explained her stint in solitary to me:  "She smashed some chick's head against the concrete to assume dominance.  It took six guards to get her off the other girl."

"And when she was released back in to general population, she always had blue eyeliner on."

Onkel Fritzi

I wrote something about this a few years back on MySpace, but it's a funny / cute story and relevant to today.

In the early 1940's, Brazil declared war on Germany. My family's rubber plant was taken away from them and given to Brazilians to run. And although the Germans were not herded together, like the Japanese were in the States, there were myriad restrictions placed upon them. The most noteworthy being: It became illegal for German nationals to speak German. If you were caught by the authorities, you were placed in jail and became an "enemy of the state".

Walking down the street in a German section of Sao Paulo, my blond-haired-blue-eyed uncles, Peter and Fritz, thought they were by themselves and started speaking German in low voices. Apparently, they were not alone as they were soon apprehended by Brazilian police.

"You know it is illegal to speak German as Germans?" they asked. "Show us your passports."

Uncle Fritz pulls out his passport and shows it to the police.

Stammering, he says, "But I'm an Austrian."

Peter, born of missionary parents, smiling, shows his. "And I'm Chinese!"

Uncle Fritz died yesterday. Friede sein mit Dir, Onkel Fritzi.

Hiawatha's Having Cocktails

Just a note: I'm mixing in the "Myspace hits" with new posts. But, I'm just excited to get this started, really.


"In an age of imitation I can claim no special merit..." , so begins a favored forward by a very special author. You may know him: Lewis Carroll authored many favorite stories that I've read since I was little and continued through adulthood. Hiawatha's Photographing has inspired me to write this but I looked a little deeper and I found Sir Carroll's sources. This quite easy running meter started in a Finnish epic, it is called the Kalevala (though you might already know this). Longfellow (scholars debate) used this epic meter after in The Song of Hiawatha.I do know I'm no great poet, but the meter is addictive. So, here is my little story...

Hiawatha's Having Cocktails

From his office Hiawatha
Looked around his tiny workspace,
Saw his clock and got excited;
It was almost Happy Hour.
Happy Hour on a Friday---
You could say it was his forte,
For he didn't have to wake up
Very early the next morning.

He got his best friends together,
all were gentlemen he worked with.
(I use "gentlemen" quite lightly,
Most did not deserve the honor.)
And they figured how to travel;
Who was traveling in whose car?
Who among them drove correctly
In some dicey situations?
Hiawatha was not driving...

They approached the local hot-spot,
Greeted warmly by the 'tenders---
It resembled something "Norm!"-like,
All the patrons stopped to listen
As they started up their bar tab."

We'll have 7 Irish Car Bombs!"
What a way to start a Friday!
They matched each other beer for beer
Not thinking how much ingested.
But it really didn't matter
As the sun was shining brightly.
"Inebriated? There's no way!",
Hiawatha said, "It's early!"
So he gathered all his drink mates,
And they huddled all together,
Found a strategy and timeline
To partake in Jaegermeister.

"Jaegermeister is the Devil!",
One proclaimed so-ever-lightly
As to not raise such a big stink
Where his manhood was in question.
But his manhood now was questioned,
Seven shots were quickly ordered.
Lurid toasts were quickly mentioned---
Ones that will not be repeated.

Just a couple minutes after,
Hiawatha spied a female,
Quite attractive for her species.
(He says "species" that's not my word!)
As he tried to sidle over
Hiawatha lost his balance,
Surely this was not surprising
For he'd had a lot of cocktails.

Even though he'd had some cocktails,
Hiawatha still was charming---
He was charming and attractive
When he wasn't really wasted.
"Two more shots!", said Hiawatha.
Then he asked her what her name was,
But if he was really thinking
Then the order would be reversed.
She had answered him quite kindly,
Although with some trepidation,
As though she could hardly figure
Who he was, this Hiawatha.

As their conversation started
Hiawatha slowly realized
That he was inebriated.
As he wondered, "Am I slurring?"
Her look had already told him
What he was already was asking.

So he had a bright suggestion---
"Two more shots of Jaegermeister!"
She was not as drunk as he was,
But with a concerted effort
He would bring her down a level.

His mates were watching this unfold,
Taking bets against the other...
Would Hiawatha make a score
Or would he go home in a cab?
The odds would have it - in a cab.
So they all watched the scene unfold,
And they toasted in his "on her"....
Likely toasting to his "in her".
(That is lurid and disgusting---
Why does anybody say it?)

Nearly 20 minutes later---
They'd lost most of their interest,
When a most resounding bitch slap
Echoed above all the music,
Laughter and the conversation.
And they knew without addressing
Hiawatha and "his lady"
Who had won their friendly wager.

There were calls to pay their bar tab.
There was stomping off in high heels.
There was placating of bouncers.
A call was made to Yellow Cab,
"Could you pick up Hiawatha?
He's a tad inebriated.
And he's got a lovely paw print
From a very lovely lady.
I am sure he will regret it,
When he's up tomorrow morning."

And the cabbie came to get him...
Thus departed Hiawatha.