Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Sheila Levine Is Dead and Living In New York

I didn't go to my high school prom, but I like to dress up so here's my attempt at recreating what might have been the happiest part of the night, the preparation. Anticipation has so much charm that the thing itself so often lacks. I suppose that I really blew it in my youth, having come of age in the 80s in Texas and instead of living it up fashion-wise, I was in my militant feminist phase (still am in my mind if not outfits) -- no make-up, no hair style (save for a disastrous Oglive home perm -- think poodle, think poodle in the rain, think humiliation and pain, pain, pain), and no bra (not that this was an issue when you weighed all of ninety pounds and had no chest to speak of). I worshipped at the shrine of books written in the 70s about women on the edge, bursting out of patriarchal constraint into meaningful lives or trapped women that I could understood. And who could blame me? The 80s offered me a steady stream of excess to observe -- gold nugget jewelry, tennis bracelets, hideous shoulderpads, warnings on magazines about becoming an old maid. (Remember People's Cover -- Are These The New Old Maids?) The show thirtysomething was another trauma, but I was addicted to it merely for the fact that the characters had gone to college and were living in Philadelphia. It wasn't, say, Hee-Haw, which was certainly closer to my life.

Michelle's Spell of the Day

"Posing, always posing, but for who?" Jean Nathan

Snack of the Day (to go with a Spell from an earlier post)

Black Magic

Crackers topped with low-fat cream cheese and black caviar. Serve on pretty little tray to your favorite little friends.

Benedictions and Maledictions


I’ve never been much to look at, she
said, so I’ve had to develop my mind.
Men aren’t crazy about that, they don’t
promise to leave their wives because you’re
so fucking smart. Because you’re asking,
I’ll say that I’m the apartment door you
pass each day on your way to somewhere
else and maybe sometimes I put up a wreath
that reminds you of the season and you think
that’s nice, you admire the effort in such
obviously depleted circumstances and you rush
past onto your love or your work or to get
something to eat. Are we finished here?


Bonnie said...

You were never Hee-Haw, honey-pie, and always beautiful. You must know that and if you don't, you are -- take it from me. You look adorable and anyone stupid enough to pass up asking you to the prom well, that's his problem now, isn't it? Life is full of regets but no use crying over spilt milk.

John R. said...

Dear Michelle,

I'd be delighted to take you to any social event of your choosing. You're a beautiful woman and person. The guys in Texas must have been a bit dense not to see you for who you are. One in a million.

cindy said...


you look *so* adorable it almost breaks my heart. Here's to feminism, an almost forgotten art and real necessity, now more than ever.

Cindy, always

JR's Thumbprints said...

Hey Michelle,

I went to my senior prom; however, I'll never ever speak about it. Not a good experience. Expensive too. --Jim

Wichita-Lineman said...

I went to my Prom.
It was the first time I ever got wasted. It was like the beginning of a long race that I'm still running today.
Don't worry about missing the Prom, it's a big waste of money on a night where everyone pretends there are somebody they're not. Not to mention the line for the ladies room are something like 15 minutes long. Then again, think of the conversations you would have over heard in that line.

Cheri said...

Oh geeze, the poor guy! He has the worst luck with this weather.. haha. he'll be my teacher again starting in June (I'm retaking his class). We're lucky though- in the East the rain is so bad that their dams are bursting and they are all flooded out. Cripes, I'm glad that isn't happening here!