Friday, February 20, 2009


I have a new online friend. Maybe my only online friend and she talks cute. I have a bad habit, when I meet someone who speaks pidgin English, I imitate them thinking that they will understand me better. Sometimes it works. I used to go to cosmetology school (got my licence and all) (yeah, now you don't respect me any more) and there was an Italian lady. You really had to speaka likea dis for her to get it. I spent a year with her, and frankly, in the end she needed to take a translator to the test to get through it even though she could speak English, she did not always understand it unless things were mispronounced her way.

Don't tell me I'm talking down, I'm just trying to get my message across. This drives my relatives to distraction, but I am sort of convinced that it works.

Anyway, back to the online girl, I like her, and to be friendly. because sometimes my writing comes off a little too hard edged, I have started to be cutesy back. I can't tell anyone because then they would be nauseous and judgemental, but it's kind of fun masquerading as a nice person.

Really, I would rather confess to something worse, but that's all there is. For now, anyway.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Ex Post Moisture

"Your sister's on the phone!" comes the voice from upstairs.
"Tell her to call back later, I'm half slathered" Nory rumbles.
The thing about getting older, is there is so much maintenance one must do on the corpus delectus. First, you just have to shave legs and armpits, then just a light lotion on the legs, and by the time you pass twenty five, you have added 4 or 5 other things, and have to pay way more attention to flossing than you ever expected to. Anywhere after 50 and suddenly you are immersing yourself in potions, lotions, and anything to get rid of the jowls, wrinkles and dry extremities. You start to tell people things like: "a whole lot of stuff you are never going to want to see is going on under these clothes." Anyway:
"Get the phone!" again. "get the phone!!"
Ufff, Nory steps lightly across the wooden floor so as not to break a hip, sliding on heavily lotioned toes, and then hip hops across the thick carpeted hall, trying not to leave spots she would have to tend to later, and then skids onto the flooring of the library room where she snatches the reciever off the phone with slippery fingers.

"What??" she shouts.
"Well, if you're going to be that way, we can talk another time" barks the younger of her two sisters.
"It's just that he wouldn't listen to me, and I had to get the phone full of moisturizers" Nory says, "I'm too slippery to talk right now"falling onto the couch with and audible phhuff.
"Never mind, then." says Lili.
"Well, now I'm seated, I'm more receptive to comments"
"No, you put me off, I'm calling another day"Lili waxes imperiously.
It's always something, isn't it(to herself).
Nory hangs up the phone and flails limbs, willing the unguents to sink in.