7 Jun 2013
1. A few weeks ago Spike and I were at our friendly neighborhood fast food emporium with adjacent child play area. Those little enclosed rooms are always a bit damp and smell like feet. On this day, we had the room to ourselves until a set of boy-girl twins came in. The boy had a package of saltines he was using as a ball [ed. note: children are weird], and he and Spike immediately began tossing it around. The girl sat next to me and asked me a million questions — I love children like this, especially for about 10 minutes.
She wanted to know why Spike talked so loud, if he hurt my ears, if he had any brothers or sisters, if we had a pool, etc. She kept talking about how much Spike and I looked alike, and at one point said, “If you put glasses and lipstick on him, he’d be your little sister! Your son-daughter!”
About this time, the package of mangled saltines were being tossed down the slide, and both boys were in hot pursuit. Spike came out first, grabbed them, and took off with it. “I’ll get you, cracker!” cried his new friend, chasing Spike. Let’s pause to consider that this is a funny thing for any kid to say to another, but also to consider that Spike and his friend are of different races. Also consider that I wrote this down as the girl was asking, “Why are you laughing? What are you writing? Can I play with your phone?”
2. I’ve gotten out of the habit of reading, something that always makes me feel a little adrift. Instead of remedying this, I’m watching a LOT of Sex and the City reruns. Also Newlyweds: The First Year on Bravo, which is some fine television. There are four couples that we see from a few weeks before the wedding through the first year of marriage. There’s your mid-30s Jersey couple who got pregnant on the honeymoon, your Bollywood star and her white guy husband (her dad hates him, like a lot), the black power couple who fight about important things like the furniture a lot, and the gay couple. The gay couple is pretty great, except for the fact that the older one (Jeff) seems like he’s going to burst into flames from embarrassment every minute of the day, and the younger one (Blair) was in a boy band and thus, is very dramatic. It is obvious he is putting on for the cameras, which is at once a) hilarious and b) stressful when you see poor Jeff’s pained face. On this last episode they were arguing about the frequency of their sex having. I sort of squeaked a little as I watched poor Jeff explain he is just as fulfilled holding Blair’s hand and having a nice glass of wine. Blair rolled his eyes, stomped away, and slammed the door. TELEVISION!
3. We had an event at work the other day and a staff member who is good with such things did the flowers. When I say “did the flowers” I mean “created a giant flower ball topiary thing with twinkle lights and lilies and hydrangeas that was five feet across.” So she was late to the actual event. I was talking to one of the guests, who asked where the flower-doer was, and I said, “Oh, she did the flowers for this, so you know, she was pretty much covered head to toe in leaves earlier. She’ll be back after she deflowers herself.”
To both our credit, neither of us laughed, although I blushed.