
When I was a senior in high school, my adored English teacher took me to the Bread Loaf Young Writers' Conference in Middlebury, Vermont. I don't even really remember...
It is so considerate of this storm to wait until the weekend to hit. Really. You just don't get that kind of old world courtliness from any old storm. I think they named it Noel after Noel Coward.
Who was kind of a bitch under all that charm, after all, so let's light some candles just in case.
I went out for coffee this morning with Saucy just to prove to her that I am not such a wuss as all that, that I can manage to go a mile away for coffee as prearranged, even with a big ol' northeaster bearing down on us.
And it was great, of course. It always is when I can arse myself out of my idiotic self-contained isolationism to actually be sociable with the people I care about.
I told her about that time when I was 12 and dressed up for Halloween as a Polaroid camera. It was a costume based on spite and bitterness, of course, as all the best costumes are.
There was a slot in the front of the "camera" and I would walk up to people -- the plan was to do this to people I didn't like, which was everybody -- and say let me take your picture I am a Polaroid camera and I would pretend to snap their picture and then I would take one of the "pictures" I had made the night before and feed it out through the slot for them.
Only I had made all these "photos" as premeditated insults -- mostly they were big sheets of cardboard paper with drawings of ugly faces, with warts and stuff, or an actual dog or a pig or a witch or a cow. Y'know, something insulting. And I would give the person my bitchy little portrait of them and turn on my 12-year-old little heel and leave them smoldering in the dust of my wit.
Course I don't recall that anyone cared enough to be offended, or even to notice. Alas.
I don't really ever dress up for Halloween anymore, having grown older and still more self-conscious. (hard to imagine, if you had known me as a kid.)
Now I just sit at home and drink tea and knit and blog and read Victorian fiction.
Good thing I didn't turn out to be a geek or anything.
{I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.
-Noel Coward}
When I was a senior in high school, my adored English teacher took me to the Bread Loaf Young Writers' Conference in Middlebury, Vermont. I don't even really remember...