My Nose Drives Me Crazy

Posted on October 16, 2005 by Sara Hickman. | Comments Off on My Nose Drives Me Crazy

Over the years, I’ve gotten lots of compliments on various body parts. Who doesn’t appreciate it when they receive a nice body part compliment? I remember a dark night at Club Dada in 1989 when a guy named Seth Pybus, who happened to be very charming
and rather elfish, stood and stared in my eyes for about an eternity as we were talking, and then he said, “My God, your eyes are so beautiful!” or one time when I was making out with someone (who shall remain unnamed) while sitting on top of a dryer (me on dryer, him standing in front of dryer) and I must have had that morning tousled hair look and he stopped kissing me, pulled me (nicely, but passionately) by the hair and declared, “My God, you are beautiful!” So, I’ve come to determine whenever a man starts a sentence with, “My God!…” I’m about to receive a rather nice report. And there is something about someone using the word “beautiful” in conjunction with ANY body part that just makes my heart skip down the street and want to buy an ice cream cone.

So, thinking about this, of course, is now bringing up a whole flurry of sexy moments that I’m sure I shouldn’t devulge, but whoo!
Late at night in recording studios, behind a coke machine, on elevators (come on….hasn’t everyone had a little risky business on an elevator? That probably seems so passe)….But I can’t remember ever getting a compliment on my nose. I know the tip of it has most likely been kissed (sigh from audience…aaahhhh…)….But who has ever said anything about my nose?

Well, I know why. My nose and I have a lot of conflict. It’s not that my nose isn’t trying to be cute or helpful or breathe right, but it has been a life long struggle to keep allergies out of my inner nasal passages. And, so, I haven’t spent a lot of time loving my nose myself. It has no loved energy eminating from it. And if something hasn’t been loved, it doesn’t seem to draw much attention from other folks. Like last night. I get to San Antonio to perform at the Walden Coffeehouse, and had a room full of laid back, attentive and intelligent people. Ready to rock. Ready to roll. And I’m in a good mood. A love filled mood! A “let me try one of those chocolate chip cookie” kinda moods right before I hit the stage moods. And, so, I am told, “Oh, those cookies are hot! Be careful!”

I pick up the cookie. It is not hot. It is not even warm. I am thinking MAYBE, at one time, yes, they were hot, but sitting out on the plate has made them room temp, so I pop one in my mouth. AHA! The cookie IS, indeed, HOT, but the kind woman had meant SPICY hot. My mouth is suddenly alive with the sensation of fire. Wow! Delicious, unexpected, and HOT.

Then, my nose, my nose who has just been hanging out on my face, waiting to breathe in, is suddenly filled with snot, and is this an allergic reaction to the cookie? Is it nerves? Is there lingering dust I have stirred up by frantically running to the kitchen sink for some water? Is it because I’m a Methodist in a Unitarian church?! Am I going to hell?! Where does it come from, this mucus, and why…why does it appear just as I’m about to go on stage?

I’ll have to write more later because it is 7:30 am and I am supposed to be popping up on another stage in 30 minutes for the Pervasive Power Charge….ooh, it’s a chilly morning! Will the snot go away? (It’s still here with me, egging me on, “Go on. Just TRY to sing, sistah!” It is actually LAUGHING at me. Laughing snot. See what I have to endure.

Don’t worry. We shall overcome, me and my nose.

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