I finally met The Mud Lady.
Almost every town hoas its infamous homeless contingent: Tucson had Tree - the 6'9" old hippie man in the outrageous american flag patch work on the tinsel covered bicycle who spent all day every day on one of two street corners with a big smile flashing the peace sign, plus a plethora of gutter punk losers whose piercings and cigarettes could afford them the food they begged others money for. There were also a large quantity of nutjobs who wandered around screaming at the invisible people taunting them. Flagstaff's homeless either came in the form of relatively undetectable folks who chose such a lifestyle to save money in the beautiful weather, and those that fed into the worst of drunk Native stereotypes. New York....could go on for awhile. Morristown - has the Mud Lady.
I'm outside with two friends when this lady approaches and asks for a cigarette. She continues to engage us in a relatively normal "so how you girls doing? where are you from?" kind of conversation. Her facial features were absolutely beautiful; aged probably just over 40 years. She seemed lucid, kind and intelligent in speech, yet shockingly oblivious to the fact that her entire body was coated in black...mud? soot? make-up? Her eyes and mouth had thick, scraggly black liner encircling them - very off target - and her skin (face, arms, hands, feet) were covered in...mud? I was standing four inches from her: she smelled pleasant, not unshowered, dirty or homeless.
As it turns out, she's not homeless. She actually has a lot of money. She was a very successful model once upon a time. She was very much in love with her husband, who eventually left her....for a black woman.
The lady snapped. She decided black was beautiful and now she wakes up each morning and coats herself in black stuff.
Sad story.
My insomnia has resurfaced with a vengeance the past few weeks, and I had a raging case of strep throat for four days this week: yet another sad story.
Oddly enough a month of no sleep has led to a month of no blog updates. And oh my - what a month its been!!! Almost 300 miles on my mountain bike, my first stand-up comedy amateur night, time in a bomber recording studio plus an awesome musical potential partnership, and in two days I leave for the Rennaissance Festival.
It's 5am. Ideally, I can find sleep now.
Almost every town hoas its infamous homeless contingent: Tucson had Tree - the 6'9" old hippie man in the outrageous american flag patch work on the tinsel covered bicycle who spent all day every day on one of two street corners with a big smile flashing the peace sign, plus a plethora of gutter punk losers whose piercings and cigarettes could afford them the food they begged others money for. There were also a large quantity of nutjobs who wandered around screaming at the invisible people taunting them. Flagstaff's homeless either came in the form of relatively undetectable folks who chose such a lifestyle to save money in the beautiful weather, and those that fed into the worst of drunk Native stereotypes. New York....could go on for awhile. Morristown - has the Mud Lady.
I'm outside with two friends when this lady approaches and asks for a cigarette. She continues to engage us in a relatively normal "so how you girls doing? where are you from?" kind of conversation. Her facial features were absolutely beautiful; aged probably just over 40 years. She seemed lucid, kind and intelligent in speech, yet shockingly oblivious to the fact that her entire body was coated in black...mud? soot? make-up? Her eyes and mouth had thick, scraggly black liner encircling them - very off target - and her skin (face, arms, hands, feet) were covered in...mud? I was standing four inches from her: she smelled pleasant, not unshowered, dirty or homeless.
As it turns out, she's not homeless. She actually has a lot of money. She was a very successful model once upon a time. She was very much in love with her husband, who eventually left her....for a black woman.
The lady snapped. She decided black was beautiful and now she wakes up each morning and coats herself in black stuff.
Sad story.
My insomnia has resurfaced with a vengeance the past few weeks, and I had a raging case of strep throat for four days this week: yet another sad story.
Oddly enough a month of no sleep has led to a month of no blog updates. And oh my - what a month its been!!! Almost 300 miles on my mountain bike, my first stand-up comedy amateur night, time in a bomber recording studio plus an awesome musical potential partnership, and in two days I leave for the Rennaissance Festival.
It's 5am. Ideally, I can find sleep now.
posted by Lindsay at 4:21 AM
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