Saturday, February 18, 2012
I'm Afraid I Couldn't Say
A.) "I'm only telling you this because I know you will be professional about it." True, I will be. But gahhhhh. Hamstrung from the get-go! Statements beginning in this fashion rarely turn out to be appealing anyway. This particular tidbit fell in line -- it was unfortunate, so the temptation to share was minimal. Had it been juicier, I still would have kept mum, so.
B.) I have been invited to take part in a THING! It's totally bizarre, but I'm not allowed to share any specifics. This is going to be harder, but I will do it. The novelty will wear off and it will sink into the background. But! I was presented with a cellophaned gift basket of candies as a welcome. My initial contact person was very friendly and we had a fabulous time talking. She was horrified that my birth year was the year she graduated from college (or high school?). She recently overtook a young woman who was texting while speeding her SUV down the freeway; she honked repeatedly and flashed the loser finger sign at said texter. Hahaha! "Well, I hope she learned something, I don't usually behave that way!" In my crystal ball, I see the brazen text addict texting about it. Anyway, she was a blast-- warm, genuine, totally fun. Anybody care for a strip of candy buttons? I can not disclose their provenance.
This sisterly caution brought me back to my college days, when I lived on a co-ed dorm hall, with shared bathroom. A small number among us wanted it to be a clothing optional hall, but thankfully, this designation had to be unanimously approved. The rest of us quickly shot it down. One of the lamer arguments in favor of the designation was that it was SO RIDICULOUS to have to put ON a bathrobe in order to walk those ten steps to a shower stall where one would just have to TAKE OFF that very same bathrobe before turning on the water. Really, Girl X said, were people really that uptight ??? Yes. Yes, we were. Nakedness is the most natural thing in the world and it's a sad reflection that even on a campus like this one, our society's repressiveness is so strong. The bathrobe shall be your cross to bear.
Girl X was the same one who gradually worked up to at least a dozen facial piercings, who then hotly complained about off-campus people staring at her; and who insisted I look at her breast* in the bathroom mirror after a less-than-satisfactory piercing. She glared at her reflection: "Look! Look! The angle is all off!!" I frowned in sympathy. Yes the piercing was wonky, no the nipple did not look happy. She later occupied the sought after middle seat of the lounge sofa to watch a hall favorite (Northern Exposure? Maybe? Wowwwwww, long time ago); it wasn't long before she was exclaiming to the next person over, "OW! You just elbowed my nipple! God!" I suspect that led to another shirt lifting, though I can't recall at this point. What's my point, anyway? Hmm. That I am NOT this person?...But I am happy to write about it... Oh, this post is a fine line. Think I'll return to posting about New Orleans...