Sunday, August 3, 2008

DESERTED ISLAND LIST

Here's what I'd bring if I had to choose just one ....

Album: U2, The Joshua Tree
I saw U2 perform in 1985 at the San Francisco Cow Palace. Truth be told, I bought a ticket and drove there but I didn’t actually “see” them play, as I was occupied with running back and forth to the bar. The entire night is a blank except for a few interlude visions of sliding down the cement walkway on my knees. I was wearing Guess jeans, the kind with the zippers on the ankles, and ballet style shoes that allowed the tops of my feet to be grated like parmesan cheese on the rough cement. For the next week I was subjected to giant scabs on the top my feet. I also completely blacked out of the following concerts: Berlin, REO Speedwagon, Journey, and Rush. With the exception of Berlin, I’m quite content with my lack of recall.

Food: Pizza with spinach, feta, and calamata olives
This may sound drab to most people, the lucky people who can pick-up the phone and “order” dinner. Here in my house, we NEVER get pizza. My children are complete aliens and don’t like pizza (or sandwiches, or bread, or cheese, or lots of other things that earth children like). My husband is always worried about his weight. Therefore, I’m neglected and I don’t get pizza enough to keep me happy.

Person: Definitely my husband
There are many practical reasons for wanting my husband on my Deserted Island. First, and foremost is FOOD. There is no way in hell he would starve because if he missed a meal, he'd get super cranky and chase anything down, kill it with his vice grip bare hands, and find a way to eat it. You may wonder “Why do you think he’d share it with you, Queenie?” The answer is that he needs me. That’s why. Who else would tell him when its time to get up, sleep, hunt, shave, launder, fetch firewood, and spend time with me talking about my new ideas? He’d just be lost without me. Also, he’s really smart and could probably make a radio transmitter with coconuts and rat tails.

Shoes: Just one? Asics Gel Kayano
I have lots of other favorite shoes like my Sumatra Velvet pumps by Naughty Monkey. Unbelievably high, sexy, and oh-so-me. But they are considered “sitting” shoes, if you know what I mean? Then there are my Birkenstock Cozumel sandals. They just scream “I’m a Unitarian from California and I went to a free-learning school called Synergy.” But here’s the deal; my feet are now paying the price for the cheap-ass 6 inch fuck-me pumps I wore in the 1980’s. But I cannot choose the Birks for my Deserted Island shoes because I’m not sure I’ll have nail polish and I don’t want to look THAT hippy!

The question is: What would you take to the Deserted Island?

4 comments:

  1. I would take:
    1. A razor (have you seen the girls on Survivor with the monkeys they smuggle under their arms? No way, not me!)
    2. Some kind of hot, sexy boy toy who only spoke italian, and was completely at my whim.
    3. My friend Sharon, so that we could laugh ourselves silly arm wrestling on the beach. And, because we are both so freaking competetive, I know that we would be able to swim home once we had enough of the hot pool boy rubbing sunscreen on our soft 40+ bodies

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  2. By the way, LOVE the picture. You look so serene with a touch of 'come hither'.

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  3. I've thought about this, I would bring:
    Person: my son James - he can climb trees to take down coconuts, etc., he's not afraid of killing bugs and touching squishy things, he's really funny, totally cute and has very deep thoughts
    Food: Chocolate, coffee and Mediterranean hummus
    Shoes: My favorite pretty green pumps. They make me feel taller and thinner, have a great heel for traction when climbing mountains, can be used as a hammer to bang things and as a weapon (for James) to catch fish or other small animals for dinner.
    Misc: I would need someone to prepare my meals (James is only 6) and my cell phone so when I'm well enough rested, I can call to be rescued.

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  4. Figs, not the leaves. Chocolate, not the latte. My new tempur-pedic mattress, desk lamp, massage table. Oh yes, another hot, sexy boy toy who finds food and prepares it perfectly. A best friend to make me as outrageous as possible. Any book that engrosses me. Any music that inspires me. And don't forget the massage oil.

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