As a child, all my adult fantasies centered around working in a big city, late nights at diners washed in neon, and wearing exceptionally good clothes, including tall leather boots and a fur coat. (Sorry PETA, I would never think that now about the fur!) I did not dream of marriage or babies, having been terrified by one two many viewings of The Stepford Wives. When one of my friends hogtied her Barbie dolls to the dining room table, I asked what would free them again so we could dress them in their Garden Party attire. They're waiting for the prince, she said. Good luck, I thought. All we had was one lousy Ken doll to her many, many Barbies, nary even a G.I. Joe insight. Invariably, waiting got boring and we freed them one by one and then acted like they were in the Iran Hostage situation, being tortured. Her mother often asked, Why don't you play something cheerful? But what was the fun in that when you could indulge in all the dark fantasies your heart desired? There was only so much you could get Barbie to do in the Garden Party clothes anyway.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"There are no wrong notes." Miles Davis
Cocktail Hour
Drinking movie suggestion: Blue Velvet
Benedictions and Maledictions
Some Are Better Than Others
You can speak, and I will listen about the wedding
of our friend Debra, where she married a newly divorced
controlling man nicknamed Slinky. She’d been beaten
by her last love for almost seventeen years, had known
Slinky for five months. The maid of honor, asked
a day before the event, you ended up in a black formal
at the rehearsal dinner, to your surprise held at Golden
Corral, all you can eat seafood night where surly youths
fried shrimp and offered to dump it on your plate for as
long as you kept coming back. Compared to the last,
Slinky wasn’t so bad even though no one was on his side
at the wedding service, the bride’s side of the ship tilting
with all the weight. You tell me -- if you write this, please
give her a happy ending, even if she’s staying at a crappy
Ramada Inn for the honeymoon. Some, I say, are better
than others, since this is all I know to be true for certain.
10 comments:
Dear Michelle,
That's a charming Halloween photo. Loved your poem with the Slinky person. Reminds me of the Slinky toy.
So fun. Go Tigers!
My brother had the complete G.I. Joe doll versions.
I once told a boss of mine that he was so smart that he could put together his Lego without the instructions.
Is it just me or at 11:45 am does the title "Sheila Levine..." not seem to fit with the post, except maybe with the marriage in the poem?
Foxysexyhalloweenhoney leather boots and leopard fur coat cityskyline steamgrill midnights eyes shine in nights hwy dancing flame Might Isis O Shazammmm! R2 C2 go TIGER LADY! Hairshinyspillsright
What about playing Barbie sex? Y'know, rubbing Ken's lump against Barbie's... A recurring theme with all my dolls. (Also a good excuse for a costume change). Now I think about it, I'm surprised no one's tried to get rich marketing doll condoms, to teach kid's right. Scary.
What a great Halloween picture! You look positively stunning! I like the poem. Very cool.
Nowadays, I'm not so sure young women ever dream of marriage, but having or not having babies is probably more on their minds.
Great photo. When I was little, I always wanted a barbie doll. Instead one Christmas my mother got my cousin the real barbie doll and I got some silly off brand want to be barbie doll. Oh well, life goes on. Love the poem.
What is a redneck's favorite thing about Halloween?
Pump-kin.
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