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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Zebra, Is That You?
Shop, You Fiend! I just came back from shopping for a winter coat. And can I just say? Clothes suck. And can I just qualify that statement? I am not a clothes type of girl. So, I did not find a winter coat is how you translate that statement from Sublingua into common English. However, I did find a zebra striped suit (skirt and jacket) that looks damned hot on me and is a size 4 to boot. Though I am drawn to zebra stripes in general, I don't need a zebra striped anything. Plus, I think those women who wear animal prints are insane (see also: Jackie Collins). Also? I don't ever have occasion to wear suits, so I don't need a suit. And what is the Sublingua to English translation for all of that? That would be: Of course, I bought it. I am now the proud but insane owner of a zebra striped suit, size four, which will very likely never get worn outside the house. But it looks damn hot on me. Can I See Your ID? So, last Sunday was my fab walking buddy Judi's birthday. I didn't ask, but it's one of the years in the early 60's that she just celebrated. She mentioned it a few days after, when she was telling me that a friend of hers was going to take her to a birthday lunch and a movie. I wished her a happy birthday and offered yet another birthday movie and she picked--drumroll, please--the newest John Waters' film A Dirty Shame. Judi is a huge John Waters fan. (Not huge as in Divine huge, but pretty devoted as Divine was to Waters.) Anyway, so we went last night to see the movie, bringing along Judi's fab husband Paul. And the funniest thing was when the little sixteen-year-old ticket seller freakin' ID'd all of us because the movie is rated NC-17. I mean, here's Judi, who's into that sixth decade, Paul, who's leaving or just into his seventh decade, and yours truly. And I don't look a day under thirty, which is just fine, because I'm not. So we all had to dutifully drag out our ID's to get into a Waters' flick. Waters' probably would've laughed his ass off over that. Meet The New Boss So there's this poor kid at Max's work who comes into town from time to time to help out with various projects. He's quite the dork, all of 24-years-old, can't quite figure out how to let another person into the running monologue he calls conversation, and is large and lumpy besides. The boys--Max and Ladas really--often ditch him when it comes time to go to lunch, as he's such a drag to drag along. So the other day, I showed up to take the boys to lunch and they guiltily slunk out of there without inviting the poor dorkas, and then spent part of lunch saying how they really should invite him, but neither of them can stand him really, and he's such a drag, etc., etc. And me? I have this thing where I forget that people without friends don't have friends for a reason. I have this Sublingua complex where I used to be the friendless lass and I used to want people to want to make friends with me and no one did and I always wondered why and no one liked me and I was painfully aware of it. And I have a hard time, despite hard evidence, believing that other friendless souls are not equally aware and desirous of friends. So I invited Dorkas to lunch. Dorkas was so happy happy happy about this that it was like when your dog gets to come for a ride with you, like, one time and then the next time you go to pick up your car keys to leave the house, they get all excited because they think that all rides are now dog rides and you have to be, like, all, "Not today, boy. I'll take you for a walk to the park later. I'm going to work now and you can't come with me to work. But I'll take you out later, alright?" And the dog gets all droopy and sad and you feel all guilty? It was like that kind of dog happy that Dorkas was. I kinda felt sorry for the guy. Anyway, Dorkas is from Wisconsin and consequently thinks that deep frying a cheese curd is the height of gourmet cuisine. So we took him to an East Indian restaurant. He was so excited that all he could talk about over lunch was glacier activity in prehistoric Wisconsin, the dairy industry, and I forget what else, because I was kept busy by The Brain, which was pointing out at every opportunity why it is that Max and Ladas ditch this poor kid for lunch. God. He was boring. Later, of course, Max said to me, "I think Dorcas is fascinated by you. He kept bringing up things you said." And I was, all, like, "Not this time, boy. I'll take you out later. We'll go to the park okay? I'll take you for a walk alright? I just can't take you in the car this time." Hunger Strike Feed me, Seymour! I've got to go feed. Have a happy weekend, Demons!
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