Thursday, July 26, 2007
Someone Else Might Be Around
A friend of mine described seeing something new on her boyfriend's mantle and being terrified that a girl had given it to him. She was madly in love with a man who I will refer to as Dufus (D for short). D often went missing for weeks on end only offering what I refer to as a "tard story." A tard story is a genre most often seen on COPS when someone starts out with a crack pipe in his shirt and says, "The fucked up shit is that it's not my shirt, I was just wearing it and I was a long way from home in New Jersey where I didn't have clothes and my brother lives there . . . " D's tard stories were considerably terser -- "I was building a fence" could serve to secure his whereabouts for a month or so. When he told her it was a gift from his brother-in-law, she sighed in relief and exclaimed how lovely the new object was. "It's a titty," D said. "He got it in Padre." My friend looked at said titty and indeed it was was, complete with a straw in the nipple should one want to enjoy his favorite beverage in this festive glass/ conversation piece/ object d'art. It reminded her of the fake breasts they give you in the gynecologist office to teach you how to palpitate your breasts for lumps except for the drinking straw business. "But I was so happy," she told me. "He hadn't been with anyone else."
Well, where to start? Robert Frost would say, Weep for the little things that could make them glad! I would say that it's a really depressing night when a replica of a breast that your beloved refers to as a "titty" seems like a victory. And of course, there's the fear we live in that someone else might be around or about past loves and the gifts they have bestowed, sometimes a museum's worth. I knew someone who "accidentally" broke everything her boyfriend's ex had given him. I asked her how she knew what to break. "You just know. It has an energy. And you know what, I don't even mind cleaning up the mess," she said. Once a boyfriend gave me a bunch of clothes that his various ex-loves had left behind. He didn't seem to understand how bizarre this was, and I didn't have the heart to tell him. As tempted to throw the whole pile out, I didn't. There was a beautiful red sweater that fit me better than anything ever had before, and I wore it until it started to unravel.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Look, even bad years are pretty good years I think." Robert Downey, Jr.
Drinking essay collection suggestion: Things I Like About America Poe Ballantine
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Thursday! Thanks to everyone for all the sweet comments yesterday!