Thursday, February 24, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I have always been shy and very protective of myself. I grew up in a weird situation. Other families did not have a dad who read his bible in the basement, who belonged to a strange cult church, who threw beer at the wall and said the devil was making him miss the trash, who was so fierce that I, as his child, used to go out and tell the neighborhood kids to go away because I was frightened of how he might act. When he and Mom had a battle which led to his moving out, my brother, sister and I were beyond relieved. But then Mom had to go to work full time, and that started an emotional self-reliance that lives to this day. Early on I trained myself to understand I was just going to be alone and that's that. Other kids, other people were probably going to hurt me somehow, and so it was best to find comfort in things like records and books, tv, etc.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Five years and ten failed relationships. One with a marriage that lasted only a week—how was she to know he’d have a nun fetish? The others were all rebounds to forget said marriage. Then there were lots of horrible dates in between, each one fizzling out the moment she realized men just weren't as cool in real life as they appeared in movies. Damn that George Clooney. Real men all had some sort of . . . problem. Mommy complex, daddy complex, mommy-daddy complex. Can’t make love with the lights on, can’t make love without Larry King playing in the background, can’t make love . . .
Thelma Partridge was starting to wonder if she was just allergic to men. If so, she wished there were some sort of medication, some new wonder pill like the kind you saw on TV: Femfix, the pill that makes farting, rude language, all day ESPN, and obnoxious driving seem romantic. One dose and you’ll be running your fingers through his back hair with pleasure. Warning, missing a dosage of Femfix may cause you to wake up screaming when you see your apartment has turned into a bachelor pad full of dirty socks, empty beer bottles, and half-eaten burritos. Femfix is not responsible for mental damage caused by being turned into a human coaster.
Gah. Forget the magic pills, Thelma was just going to give up cold turkey. Toughen up. Reweld the chains on her chastity belt. Take up scrap-booking—collect doilies—get a dog. Anything but men.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
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