Question Four

"...it seems like you're always partying with your friends in your car" -- Mayven

(4) In your blog, you often take little bites of life, wrap them in juicy expressions and serve them up as tasty, sensuous morsels. Do you specifically *choose* to tease your readers in this way, or is that just the way the words come out? Do you consciously not have comments on your blog? If so, why not?

Well, as I told my sister, I don't write the boring bits. I mean, I'm aware that I'm writing for an audience, so I never pop in with "...Dear Diary, today I had a fight with my boyfriend and he was soooooo mean to me that I think I'll break up with him xcept I luv him soooooooo much and then there's the part where we have the best sex when we make up *giggle*....."

None of that, thanks. I write with an eye to readability, and hoping to not draw you the whole picture, but sketch an outline that the reader can fill in. Also, sensuous is the way I operate, standard issue. If my senses are not being tantalized, I must not be feeling well.

I don't have comments because they seemed irrelevant. I mean, if you like my stuff, good, and if you don't, don't read. It's a monologue, not a dialogue. I have two contact places, if anyone has something important to say. I don't generally need or want feedback. The maintainence would be too much for me. Also, it encourages more of the "oooh, justin u r soooo funny, just had to say that. y don't u post a piktur?" sort of thing that I detest.

Okay, enough with the snobbery. Real reason? (and I'm being very naked here) If I had comments, and no one left some, my feelings might be hurt, and I can't have that.

I'm sensitive, you know.

Swelter On

...all around people looking half-dead/ walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a matchhead....

The Questing Sniff and I head out, to see what there is to be smelled this sultry summer day. For the record, 'sultry' is one of my favorite words, due in no small part to Throw Momma From The Train, with Danny DeVito and Billy Crystal. However, there are limits, even for me. We go out anyway. I think the Questing Sniff is interested in a butterfly, but it's a small Siamese cat in a fork of a tree. It turns its lemur-like face towards me. Sweating just from standing still, I tug the dog along. We top the hill, and I hear the sound of rushing water. There is a hydrant open on the corner. This is not unusual; I live in the city. What is unusual is that there is no one playing in the hydrant.

Well, no one but me.

(Summer In The City; the Lovin' Spoonful)

Third Question

...Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book/ it took me years to write, will you take a look?....

My first best-seller? Robert, bless your ass and all your other bits, don't even joke about that. I mean, this is IMPORTANT. I hope that my first best-seller will be about a bookstore at the beach. Beyond that, I'd rather not say. I've started it, and abandoned it, because I have no idea how long it takes to finish a novel. I started working it as a stage play because I used to be able to knock a play out in about nine months. It's going on two years now. Not that I've been working on it the whole time, because I haven't. But that wasn't what you asked.

It will likely be dedicated to my husband, who is dedicated to me, even when he seems to be ignoring me, which is probably just me being bitchy and high-maintainence.

No 'probably' about it.


( Paperback Writer; the Beatles)

Tea Rules

...if you're going to do it, do it right....

1. All liquid poured from the teapot, whether cocoa, lemonade, plain water, or in fact tea, must be referred to as 'tea'.

2. Foods served must be attractively arrayed on a serving plate and served individually onto small individual plates.

3. Hats must be worn. If young gentlemen are present, they too must wear hats. Tiaras are also appropriate for either gender.

4. Second best china is recommended, though stoneware or everyday glass is permitted. Plastic is frowned upon, and paper is by no means to be considered.

5. Participants must address one another in 'fawncy' voices. Extravagent complimenting of outfits, surroundings and repast are appropriate. Criticism and sniping will not be tolerated.

6. Monacles, fingerless gloves and boa scarves are optional. It is acceptable to act as though you are wearing them.

7. Frequent lip dabbing with cloth napkins is encouraged, though pinkie extention is entirely discretionary.

Weird World

...it's a mystery!....

The world is so surreal, I wonder if it actually exists.

A woman stops her car in front of my house, opens the driver's door and reaches into the street for something. She puts it in her car. It's my recycle bin. Empty. She closes the door and drives away.

Downstairs, I hear YoungEv talking: "Tell me..a...joke. Tell me...a...JOKE. Tellmeajoke! Tell...me...a...joke."

Tinny voice: (something...sounds like mwap mwap mwap)

Young Ev: "Who is there? Who...is...there? Whoisthere? WHO'S THERE?"

My daughter demands a professional pedicure for her birthday. She's seven. Gee-zus, when I was seven, I didn't even know what a pedicure WAS. Primarily Decorative takes Baby Diva for her birthday pedicure.

We drive to the theatre for the party/movie. Our party is not there. We're at the wrong theatre. We can't figure out where the right one is. We wind up back at the wrong theatre. We go inside for directions to the right theatre. They give us some. We're only an hour late.

I clean out my fridge. There are beers hidden in the back. Why'd I do that?

That's just...stupid.

Fresh Water

...it's a mystery!....

Shore greets us with strange clanking music of metal masted sailboats bobbing in their slips. Birds screech above. If seagulls fly over the sea, and bagels fly over the bay, what are these creatures soaring in wild circles over lovely Lake Minnetonka?

Sand Castle

...walkin' in the sand/ (Remember) walkin' hand in hand.....

Answer to Question Number Two, as posed by Robert.

The last time I built a sand castle? Probably last year, but as recently as last month, I built a sand tea party, complete with teapot, cups, plates and food, at a nearby bayside beach. I often build, instead of castles, sand mermaids with flowing hair and furling tails. I imagine when the waves wash over her, she's going home. You can't say that of a sand castle. But my next sand castle?

North Wildwood, New Jersey.

I mean, okay, Aruba, and fine, Nassau, and sure, Mexico...but I've never been to any of those places. I already know I like North Wildwood, New Jersey.

While I love Ocean City, Maryland very much, it must be conceded that the beach is very straight and very flat. In North Wildwood, there are curlicues and fiddly bits and tidal pools. Plus, the town is kitschy, so much so that there is a tour of the 'Do-Wop' architecture from the 'fifties.

That's where I'd build my sandcastle. Without assistance from my family, because they need to build their own castles, and leave mine alone.

Dammit.

(Remember (Walkin' In The Sand); The Shangri-Las)

Higher Stakes

...you have to kiss me!....

The ante has just been upped. Amidst the roses and the serenading -the Birthday Dirge! finally!- the annual manicure/pedicure combination and the two-AM-omelettes, there was a most unexpected gift. It came in its own pseudo-leather case, has pieces that fit together and is shiny and smooth in my hands. The strap to the case goes crosswise across my chest, making me look either like Robin Hood or Xena, Warrior Princess. (I think I prefer Xena.) It came complete with a supply of chalk, brushes, polishing cloths, and a spare clip of ammo. No, kidding, it's not a weapon, it's an implement of recreation.

Yes, now that Primarily Decorative has her VERY OWN POOL CUE, I really must learn to shoot a decent (read: not embarassing) game of pool. Otherwise I'll look like a poseur, and I can't think of anything I'd rather not be.

Actually, pool was simply an activity to accompany beer, because I'm wiggly.

The ante has been upped.