Sunday, September 6, 2009

On giraffes (on a Sunday)

Today’s post is a giraffe (mostly because I want the ”giraffe” label in my label cloud to get bigger), and slightly because I don’t have the concentration to keep avoiding digressions. Being a digressionist is a full-time occupation (but do they pay me for it? Noooooo!) So here goes, all patterned and weird (the post, if I was being unclear, which often is the case when I allow myself to indulge into digression mode – why can’t other people follow the vague links between my threads of thought as easily as I can?).


First of all, I randomly found a very clever poem on the internet today – it’s about giraffe sounds. I couldn’t possibly do it justice, so you’ll have to check out the link for yourself. The question he poses is a good one, though – what sounds do the giraffes make? I have no idea! After years and years of being a giraffreak, it never crossed my mind to find out how they speak (hey, I can rhyme too!).

Secondly, I’ve recently noticed that I am turning into a giraffe. You might find these news a little disturbing (frankly, disturbing enough to be announced in a more spectacular way and in another medium than some silly blog – you’d think it would be as groundbreaking news as Thomas, the pregnant man’s second pregnancy), but let me reassure you. You won’t find this headline on the ten o’clock news any day soon: “Woman turning into giraffe – now it will be even harder to find shoes, experts say”

Granted I’ve recently developed a general fondness for sticking my head up in trees, but the giraffe-morph I’m talking about is not related to the lenght of my neck. More than anything it's a skin condition. It’s called a tan. I’ve only rarely contracted it before, but it appears that even the sun is bigger and better in the US of A. The problem, though, is that due to various clothing items I have worn in the sun (no matter what they tell you in Michigan, this country is not ready for outspoken nudism) have caused a rather peculiar pattern to form. Hence I look like a giraffe. My tongue is still short and not black, though.

Third, when I first went touristing in DC (when my sister & brother-in-law visited a couple of weeks ago) we spent a lot of time in museums. I love museums. The main reason I love them is because that is where you tend to find museum shops. I think my favourite mall in the world would be one consisting exclusively of museum shops. For some reason most museums’ items become slightly more interesting when they have a price tag (usually with a ridiculously large number on it). One of the museums we visited this time around was the (Smithsonian) National Museum of African Art. The museum was great, the museum shop was awesome. They had a lot of cool stuff – my favourite section was the recycled art. Key chains, bags, sculptures and toys all made of recycled materials. In addition to being environmentally friendly (the transportation from Africa set aside), the items are fair-trade. The production of the recycled art helps “stimulate the economy in the region it was made”. Or so it says on the label. I don’t think I saved the world by buying this adorable giraffe made from a beer can, but at least there is a chance it helped a little bit.


The original final giraffe-related digression stems from the fact that my music player jumped to a song I always is happy to hear: Mew – The Zookeeper’s Boy (from the album And the Glass Handed Kites). There is a giraffe in that song (go find out where for yourself). That is what I am currently listening to.
I am currently reading Aravind Adiga – The White Tiger.  And that is where this post was supposed to end.

But. Then. There is one more. Because when I woke up this morning (which of course is “afternoon” in Norway) there was a lovely surprise in my inbox. Remember the website I recommended in my first giraffe-related post?
http://www.onemilliongiraffes.com/

It turns out that one of the giraffes I submitted has been chosen. Onemilliongiraffes.com also has a blog, and every day Ola (I don't know him, I’m only a HUGE fan. Now I know what it feels like when Bono picks a girl from the crowd to join him on stage!) choose one giraffe out of the total 230 798 he has so far, and blog about it. Well, my giraffe was picked!!! How unlikely is that (and on the very day I had planned this post too)!?

If you want to see it, check out this link and let me again encourage you all to make a giraffe yourself and submit it. Maybe your giraffe also will be one in a million =)

4 comments:

Watery Tart said...

America is TOO ready for nudism! (right, Paul?) Never mind that we are both in Michigan.

Did you know giraffe tongues also feel like great big CAT tongues? True story. And I had a feline exfoliation yesterday, so it's almost like I am a giraffe too! (and I really DID once get licked by a giraffe--it was at a circus and we paid to let me climb the ladder and give the giraffe a peanut.)

Loved your giraffe blog, Mari! And your art, and your submitted 'giraffe' cartoon. Serendipity is the word for that being chosen on the very day you planned a giraffe blog!

Cruella Collett said...

Everyone, see? Michigan... ;)

I did not know that about giraffe tongues (apparently, there is a whole lot I don't know about giraffes). It is pretty funny that I have friends who have the ability to enlighten me in these things, though :D

Serendipity indeed! It really made my day!

Rayna M. said...

I had a giraffe lick me too many years back, and it felt like sandpapery.

How often does it happen that your cartoon giraffe gets picked on the same day as you plan a blog post on it? Maybe you and Ola have some kind of karmic connection?

And I quite like your beer guzzling giraffe.


Incidentally, White Tiger was much derided in India, but I liked the book.

Cruella Collett said...

Why is that everyone I know has been licked by a giraffe?!? That is just too funny :)

I do like the idea of having a karmic connection with Ola!

And I was hoping you had read White Tiger, Natasha - I'll be wanting to discuss it with you once I've finished.

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