Monday, October 16, 2006
Ready to Write Again. As a long-time friend whom I hadn't seen for a very long time said to me the other night at my dinner party: "You look different". I explained that it was probably the change from punky short to kind of a pixie bob. "No, it's more. It's everything. You're different". This is when Anna Bloviations' began to get annoyed as in spite of his cultured European background because he didn't elaborate whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. Rather he said, "It will take me some time to get used to you." Hmmmm. So I asked him whether "different" meant I looked older. "Well yes I guess so," he blurted before all. This is where either A) he should have quickly followed up with "but you look nonetheless fabulous" or B) hubby should have jumped in to defend my honor by slitting his throat, or C) the two other bitches at the table should have admonished his bad manners. But neither A, B, or C occurred and I was left pondering what he meant. I'm not fatter than last time I saw him. And perhaps a wrinkle or two have creviced a bit deeper but nothing out of hand. We were wearing a recent present from mother which is a chunky Gucci necklace that I suppose might make me look matronly? The Audrey Hepburn pleated, cuffed pants I was wearing? No matter, really. What guest in his/her right mind would blurt that the hostess looked 'older' after having been lavishly wined and dined! The death knoll for him. Twenty-four hours later I have rationalized away the insult by 1) proudly coming to the conclusion that what he sees different is an inner matronlines borne of self confidence, contentment, and recently derived power in my position as Community Liaison Director for Rep. X and 2) bad-mouthing my former friend as the Euro-trash backwater that he is a.k.a. post-communist Poland boy who becomes nasty when his friends become more successful than he. He is so being deleted from my Spam list of funny jokes.
Changes. Hubby starts mid-November YET ANOTHER software company bespeckled with people he has already worked with and maybe this time it will all work out and everyone will be wildly successful and we'll be able to buy an island somewhere off the coast of Africa...I will not delve into the reasons for the change except to say that my fifteen-year assertion that the software industry is full of bottom-sucking, full-of-themselves-when-really-it's-all-about-luck (i.e. selling YouTubes to Google for over $1 billion) ass-holes has been re-affirmed.
As my motherly instincts correctly sniffed, the son didn't actually graduate in May and in what goes down as one of Darwin's 2006 Stupid Awards; the son must make up one course (not even one course: a HALF a course) that he managed to fuck up. Enough said. Yes, he is still alive but barely.
Anna Bloviations has made great inroads in bringing down the evil slum lord of our town and has now moved on to embarrassing the neighboring town into paving their potholes and clearing brush that made navigating the sidewalk impossible. A handy-dandy digital camera comes in most handy, especially when two fortuitous events occur while Anna Bloviations is photographing A) a jeep hits a pothole and breaks down 10 yards from where we are standing and B) a BLIND WOMAN happens by whacking away at the overgrown brush and tripping into the street. We SWEAR we paid neither and yes, the town addressed both issues the next day thanks to the digital pics we sent.
Anna Bloviations' libido sucks at the moment but we have a theory about that too. We watch as dog Heidi becomes tone deaf, quasi blind, and confused. It has hit so fast that every day when we walk down the stairs to make coffee we yell out, "Are you still alive???" Which is perhaps on one level what we are asking ourselves. The hormonal peaks of lust just aren't as ardent anymore and we wonder if we shouldn't start visiting again erotica sites to get the juices flowing.
Changes. Hubby starts mid-November YET ANOTHER software company bespeckled with people he has already worked with and maybe this time it will all work out and everyone will be wildly successful and we'll be able to buy an island somewhere off the coast of Africa...I will not delve into the reasons for the change except to say that my fifteen-year assertion that the software industry is full of bottom-sucking, full-of-themselves-when-really-it's-all-about-luck (i.e. selling YouTubes to Google for over $1 billion) ass-holes has been re-affirmed.
As my motherly instincts correctly sniffed, the son didn't actually graduate in May and in what goes down as one of Darwin's 2006 Stupid Awards; the son must make up one course (not even one course: a HALF a course) that he managed to fuck up. Enough said. Yes, he is still alive but barely.
Anna Bloviations has made great inroads in bringing down the evil slum lord of our town and has now moved on to embarrassing the neighboring town into paving their potholes and clearing brush that made navigating the sidewalk impossible. A handy-dandy digital camera comes in most handy, especially when two fortuitous events occur while Anna Bloviations is photographing A) a jeep hits a pothole and breaks down 10 yards from where we are standing and B) a BLIND WOMAN happens by whacking away at the overgrown brush and tripping into the street. We SWEAR we paid neither and yes, the town addressed both issues the next day thanks to the digital pics we sent.
Anna Bloviations' libido sucks at the moment but we have a theory about that too. We watch as dog Heidi becomes tone deaf, quasi blind, and confused. It has hit so fast that every day when we walk down the stairs to make coffee we yell out, "Are you still alive???" Which is perhaps on one level what we are asking ourselves. The hormonal peaks of lust just aren't as ardent anymore and we wonder if we shouldn't start visiting again erotica sites to get the juices flowing.
