March 21, 2005 - Frankenstein Kitten

Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

March 21, 2005 - Frankenstein Kitten

Ludo, whose head is not detachable, befriends Barney before pouncing on him

In celebration of both my sister and her fiancé's birthdays, The Gryphon and I went to State College this weekend. We left early Saturday, about 8 a.m. and made pretty good time, considering that I got distracted while we were leaving Philly and got on 476 North instead of 76 West. Backtracking cost us about 20-25 minutes.

We arrived in State College just about 12:30. My sister and her fiancé were at a pottery class at a place called The Creative Oasis, run by an old friend of mine from my hippy days, who's the resident professional potter there.

So The Gryphon and I dropped off my dog, Una, at my sister's place and then drove downtown.

I'd hoped to check out the Goodwill store in State College, since they've usually had a nice selection of clothing. The plan was to check out the store, get some sushi at the McLanahan's grocery store and then meet up with my sister and her fiancé.

After parking in the municipal lot on Beaver Avenue across from a little coffee shop that used to be run by someone I knew, I led The Gryphon down the alleyway to the place where the Goodwill store... well, where it used to be. The building had been torn down, and there were cement blocks and construction equipment sitting there, for use in the expansion of the Schlow Public Library.

We decided, instead of grabbing grocery store sushi, to try a sit-down sushi restaurant, so we walked a couple blocks to Say Sushi. Even though I used to live right around the corner from this place, I'd never eaten there, mainly because I was afraid to try sushi without any idea what I was getting into. I've since discovered that sushi is one of the great culinary delights.

The Gryphon ordered noodles and I had a sushi lunch special. Afterwards, we walked to the Creative Oasis to meet up with my sister and her fiancé. They were two of only a few people who were at the wheels, finishing things up. My sister was covered with clay, so instead of a hug we gave each other air kisses.

She immediately apologizing to me for not telling me that the Goodwill store had moved to a plaza on Westerly Parkway. I told her it was all right, because only this week I'd discovered a great second hand store in my neighborhood.

For awhile I watched them clean up their equipment and heard about the projects they'd been working on. Then, my sister suggested I check out the little store up front, where several potters have their wares on display. I started by looking for some work by the friend I knew who had helped found the place.

As I was looking, much to my surprise, I found out that one of the M.A. students I went to grad school with had his work on display there. Despite his nonconformist, creative energy, I'd never imagined that he would either stay in State College or, as it turned out, become an officer at the Creative Oasis.

I had to run back to feed the meter, and when I returned, there he was striding across the room with his hand out, saying, "Hi, Alyce." He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and had his wiry dark blond hair pulled back.

The last time I saw him, he was dressed the way he used to dress when he was an English composition instructor: pinstriped suit, hair framing his head in a big mane, wearing boots. But he still had the same presence that had made me, a long time ago, have a semester-long unrequited crush on him. And he still had the same way of regarding you with a serious expression as you talked, seeming to listen carefully to each word.

I caught him up on what I'd been doing and introduced him to The Gryphon. By then, my sister and her fiancé were ready to go, so we all headed out, but not before I gave my grad school classmate one of my cards and encouraged him to send me an e-mail.

Since this was Palm Sunday weekend, Saturday was a Catholic holiday in celebration of St. Joseph's. To honor this, a friend of my sister's fiancé was having a gathering at his place, serving traditional Italian foods. We were invited, so we stopped in.

Initially, we were only going to stay a short time and sample a few things, but we got drawn into the socializing, which started first with the host describing the various Italian dishes to us and relaying stories about his family and how they usually celebrate the holidays, and then diverted into all sorts of topics, including people who talk or walk in their sleep and childhood practices like sneaking downstairs and watching whatever horrid cartoon or puppet show was on at 5 a.m.

I drifted out then to the front room, which was all women. We had a great time talking about women's fashions, because one woman, who was a voluptuous, full-figured woman in no-nonsense street smart clothes, told us she was going to enroll in a fashion program in London. She was joking about how she would form a squad of like-minded friends and be the Fashion Police, walking around and telling people what they shouldn't wear.

We especially got animated talking about how the young teenyboppers dress nowadays, with thongs hanging out of their pants and such. I came up with a few hypothetical conversations that might have to be had with these young women: "A snake is not an accessory, girl. Suspenders are not a shirt."

We were having such a great time that when my sister's fiancé and The Gryphon came to tell us they were ready to head out, I was a little reluctant to go. But some new people had just arrived, so there would be plenty of people to share in the Italian food and great conversation.

For dinner, we were treating my sister and her fiancé in honor of their birthdays. They suggested a brewpub called Otto's on North Atherton which was just opened a few years ago. Otto's was hopping: there was a 45 minute wait for a table. But we weren't concerned. We each tried one of their beers and chatted while we waited.

My sister regaled us with stories about her recent dreams, such as a very odd one about The Gryphon and I. We had adopted a kitten, but his head kept coming off. The kitten had a bolt in its neck that we would use to put its head back on. My sister tried to Super Glue the head back on to make it stay permanently and I lashed out at her, informing her that "Super Glue" is toxic.

Try as we might, we couldn't come up with a clear interpretation on kittens with detachable heads.

When we finally got seated, the meal was worth the weight. I ordered a basil salmon dish that was actually a reasonable amount of food: a 6-ounce serving of salmon, which is actually the amount of one serving, along with mashed potatoes and plenty of tasty veggies. I was very pleased.

Afterwards, we drove back to my sister's place to hang out. The Gryphon had a headache, so he went into the guest room to lie down and promptly fell asleep. My sister's fiancé made some appletinis, and the three of us sipped of the sour green while watching several episodes of "Mr. Show." I'd never seen it but had heard good things about it. These guys must be Monty Python fans. Their skits were a mix the absurd, the thoughtful and even intellectual, and the low humor.

I fell asleep after about the fourth episode and we agreed it was time for bed. My sister joked that only five years ago she never would have imagined going to bed so early, at about 11:30 p.m. There were some times I used to visit her when we were only heading out for the evening at that time.

She bid us goodnight and headed for the bedroom, to wrestle with kittens with detachable heads.