TheBunnyBlog.com - June 4, 2008

So I was walking down the street of my new little hideout hippy town, and this old lady walked up to me to admire Maxie's red hiking boots, and maybe pet her a bit. This town is obsessed with Maxie, just the way she likes it.

The old lady looked like any grown up hippy, prosperously earthy with a big, flowy skirt and Keen sandals. She pierced the back of my skull with her fucking hippy gaze--they do that here, as if they are psychopathic, only with a preposterous amount of love and caring for their brother. They stab you in the eyes with honesty. I'm not used to that. I'm used to lies. It's really discomforting. "You are of the ancient people, aren't you?" she asked.
"Excuse me?" I replied.
"You're of the ancients. I know my kind when I see them."

You know, when I think you're crazy--with such a limited grasp of "sane"--you be fuckin' nuts. Holy crap, this bitch is crazy, I said to myself.

"Your eyes are hazel, and change colors. They're sensitive to the light, aren't they, I can tell. Sometimes they're brown, sometimes hazel."

"Uh, yeah," I say, but whatever. She can clearly see the color of my eyes, as I'm not wearing my fabulously girly shades with this pink dress and freshly painted pedicure, and most people have eyes that change color depending upon the color of the sky. The eye is quite absorbent.

"You have too much feeling in your stomach, and it fights you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I admitted. Good guess. Where is this going?

"And you can see the future and you know when your closest loved ones are sad. And you can feel the portals, can't you?"
"Sometimes..."
"And you have low blood pressure."
"Uh huh."
"And wide ribs."
"Uh..."
"And you feel very lost and alone in the world. It's because you are one of the ancients, the Lemurians. You don't actually belong to this race."
"The whosits?" Does this race like boobs?
"The Lemurians."
"What do you mean by that?"
"The Atlanteans. You're here to see the skull. They're all coming to see it soon, you just beat them to the punch. You're very sensitive to the vibrations."

The lady next to me, the one who just popped into our conversation--totally normal here--thinks this is neato. "Oh goody," she says. "I always wanted to know an Atlantean."

"Look, I just came in from LA to catch a break and some fresh air. I assure you I'm not ancient at all. I'm thirty-one, for chrissakes, and I can't go five minutes without checking my Gmail or the Drudge Report."

"Oh no, you're very ancient. You're very afraid of heights, are you not?" I shake my head yes. "Many of our kind fell very far into the ocean and carry that fear."

The pop-in lady says, "You have to stay in town to see the skull. You'll remember it."

No, I won't fucking remember it. I've never seen it. How can I remember something I haven't seen before? You freaking kooks. I kind of love you.

"I bet you have O Negative blood, don't you?"
"Uh huh."
"All the ancients have O Negative blood. The science people (condescendingly) don't know where it comes from, the O Negative blood. It's the blood of the ancients."

I shake the crazy off my face and bend down to pet Maxie around the neck. "Well, that's very interesting, ma'am. Thank you for telling me that." I kind of wonder if I've left a detailed reference card sitting on some cafe table around here--and I've drunk so much wine here, it's totally possible. It's not beyond the pale. We're really drunk so let's write our blood types down on a cue card and then leave it on a cafe table down town. Sure, that could happen.

I'm backing away, like I did with the Tarahumara, when she asks, "Which one are you, Algonquin or Iroquois?"
"Part Iroquois," I say.
"Oh yes, you're ancient."
"No, I'm 32. I assure you."

So, if anybody is willing to, or even can translate this shit into something cohesive I can run with, I'd appreciate it. Though something tells me the only people who can translate it are my neighbors, and truth be told, I can't understand them. I really like them; I just can't understand them.

Posted by The Bunny at 11:03 PM