Thursday, January 20, 2011

The Same 10 Questions I Always Ask Myself, Part the Seventh

1. What are you wearing?
Today, I was successful at digging past the voluminous pile of grey granny panties and extracting a pair of nether-huggers that actually have a wisp of lace on them. And dots and spots! I was so proud that I have worn little else today, except for a drapery I dragged down, a la Scarlett O'Hara, in which to answer the doorbell.

2. What's the nature of today's hypochondria?
I have diabetes. Or maybe a thyroid condition. Either way, death comes quick like dagger.

3. What was today's workout?
I took an 8:00 am "Total Body Conditioning" class at the Mamaroneck NYSC. There, I chanced to peer down the bosom of an older woman who was doing the plank next to me. She had stuffed a number of greasy tissues down the crevasse, and occasionally plucked one out to mop her brow. I found this distasteful, as I am sure you do. I also noted that the instructor of the class did her pushups on her knees, girly-style. I did mine all manly-like just to shame her, whispering "boo-yah! boo-yah!" with each pushup.

4. How do you do what you do and stay so sweet?
The lemony fresh scent of Baby Sunshine and his fat little rubbery thighs, and his tiny square perfect teeth flashing when he says: "Dat was toooo funny!" And my five-year-old holding his Schtinky Teddy out for a kiss, which I place gingerly on the animal's gnawed and damaged fur-denuded head. And my seven-year-old, who tells me gravely: "Your novel is great. But it would be even better if you wrote seven of them, like Harry Potter, and made them all into movies. Then you would be extremely popular."

5. What's that burning smell?
That's my neighbor's kid, Thuggy "Mean Mouth" McGee, smoking a doobie while skateboarding back and forth on that half pipe, back and forth, maddeningly, endlessly, until the sands of time run out. Was he, once, his mother's own Baby Sunshine? No, I think he probably sat in the fireplace ash as a toddler and gnawed old bones.

6. If you were an animal, what kind would you be?
I once replied "a carnivorous whelk." After much perplexity of thought I have come to the conclusion that, yes, it's still a carnivorous whelk. Except this time I would like to be an amphibious and ambulatory carnivorous whelk, so that I could travel into the city on weekends and bite unwary tourists! The oceanside gets very dull for the whelk in winter.

7. What are you drinking, and why?
Cold, weak tea. I have grown to fear coffee, as it has given me the jim-jams and the williwags one too many times. But I long for it. Oh yes, its sweet poisons will woo me back, in time.

8. In what ways hast thou offended?
I gave God the stink eye this morning.

9. What's the next big thing?
Legless pants, Gummy Wolves, and a boom of baby boys named Casper Q. Twimblebottom.

10. Music selection?

The National: High Violet. Gorgeous stuff. But their lyrics are really, really weird if you listen closely.

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