My then-boyfriend received a matching t-shirt, different color puff-paint. I thanked Curtis, but dear God, did he expect that we would actually wear these t-shirts together? Some non-hippie, you're going to regret this phase when you get a decent hair stylist, part of my brain was screaming, this isn't right! I've never been a fan of couples wearing matching anything, and my ex loved his and wore it so often that John's face started to come off in tiny lines, leaving his t-shirt looking as if he'd drawn on it in magic marker. Our relationship did the same thing, except it became very dark before it ended. A story, as they say, for another time. Let's just say John and Yoko we were not. As for my t-shirt, I never wore it, and it never faded or ruined. I had to throw it away whole, which is more than I can say for most things.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Love means having to say you're sorry every fifteen minutes." John Lennon
Drinking music suggestion: Hillbilly Deluxe Dwight Yoakum
Benedictions and Maledictions
She Hasn’t Changed A Bit
My ex-husband shows me his e-mail Christmas
card for the year on a tiny portable computer. “I
didn’t like the baby’s face, so I photoshopped another
one in.” He sits back in the booth, and I look, nod
my approval. Good thinking! Our waiter asks us
what we want -- good question! My ex has time to kill
in Detroit, and I’m the only person he knows here. If
I bore him to death, I wonder if he’ll photoshop some
other conversation, say how good it was to see me or
how horrible, depending on the audience. She hasn’t
changed a bit, I can imagine him saying, with varying
degrees of affection and horror. You have to grow up
eventually, he was fond of saying when we were married.
He’s balding with a super-short haircut; I’m tired around
the eyes. I’ve seen a lot of things I couldn’t change, and it
changed me. I’d like to put my old face over this one, but
the scene won’t have it. I’d like to make things pretty, but
I’m only a writer, and it’s not quite Christmas-time yet.