the holy grail: the story of how I got a Red Bull in glass bottle form (yes, they exist)
June 14, 2016
I Think I Gave Myself a Mullet: A Cautionary Tale
July 1, 2016
SNWP Day Twelve: Children's Books & Fashion Show Mall
June 28, 2016
Ben led us in using children's books as inspiration. He used the following examples (click on images) and challenged to pick a children's book and do something similar.
I chose (click on image):
And this is what I wrote:
High Heels & Stockings
A story inspired by Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham
“I am M’am. M’am I am,” she said swishing her hips and puckering her lips.
“Oh, God,” I thought. “Kill me now.”
How I had been recruited for this year’s cotillion I have no idea. I think they had an odd number of girls, so the lady whose house my mother cleans thought it was time to turn me into a lady.
“Welcome, ladies, to M’am’s Final Touch Finishing School!” M’am squeeled.
“Who is M’am?” I asked, being facetious because I did not like this M’am. I did not like this M’am I am.
“Why, dear, I am M’am!” she chirped.
“What kind of a name is M’am?” I scoffed.
“Well it generally is short for Madame,” she said while flashing a smile. “But, in my case…”
She chuckled and looked out the window nostalgically.
“…in my case it is short for Mabelle Mabrym!” she said in triumph. “And, today we will begin with high heels and stockings!”
The other nine Barbie dolls dig into their pink-monogramed duffle bags and all produce white satin shoes and nude colored stockings.
I look at my flip-flopped feet and say, “M’am, I do not like high heels and stockings.”
M’am and the dolls emanated a choral gasp.
“You don’t like high heels and stockings?” M’am said horrified.
“No, M’am, I am sorry, but I do not like high heels and stockings.”
“Don’t you like them when you go to the school dance?”
“I do not like them at the school dance.”
I could see the doll called Tiffany start to blush. I looked I her and shrugged.
“Would you like them at the school dance if that cute boy Lance escorted you?” Tiffany blurted.
I rolled my eyes. I was always getting teased about Lance. We were just friends. Okay, we kissed that one time, but I swear it felt like I was kissing my brother.
“I would not like them at the dance, I would not like them there with Lance.”
The doll called Melody dug into her duffle and produced a white fan. They still make those?
She fanned herself and shook her head. She said, “Surely you wear high heels and stockings when you go to church!”
I laughed out loud. “Church?!?” I laughed again. “What makes you think I go to church?”
“Now, ladies, let’s not give the new girl a hard time. It’s okay not to have a church. We’ll sign her up for the church on Birch Street! Doesn’t that sound lovely?” M’am asked.
“No, it doesn’t!” I exclaimed. “The church on Birch sounds hideous. I will not wear high heels and stockings to any church on any birch.”
Susie giggled and I glared at her.
“What?” she asked innocently. “I just laughed ‘cause I imagined a church on a tree. We couldn’t get up there in heels that’s for sure.”
Finding this oddly challenging, M’am assured us that in her day, girls could climb trees in high heels and stockings. Then she mumbled something about me trying to confuse her.
Then Loren tried to help. “Didn’t you wear high heels to that debate tournament you won? Surely you wanted to look nice then?”
“What do high heels and stockings have to do with looking nice?”
And, again the choral gasp.
“Look, guys, I will not wear high heels and stockings to cotillion, not even if you give me a billion… dollars. I won’t wear them to the dance. I won’t wear them out with Lance. I will not wear them to a church. Not even if that church’s a birch. I will not wear them to debate… think how they’d fumble up my gait!
And, then M’am brought out a pair of Manolo Blahniks and I slipped them on my feet. My chubby stems became elongated and I even felt petite. Someone handed me silk stockings and they really felt a treat.
“Say, M’am!” I declared. “I am fond of high heels and stockings.”
“I will wear them to cotillion. I will wear them to the dance. I will wear them when I go to church or when I’m out with Lance.”
“I will wear them to go there! I will wear them ANYWHERE!”
In the afternoon, we did some site writing at Fashion Show Mall on the Vegas Strip.
And Azeneth, Yunying, and I sat in front of Anthropologie.
I used one of the sales clerks as a character and wrote this:
I’m an anthropologist. That much I know. But, how I ended up in Vegas, I don’t know. But, I don’t mind. I mean, isn’t Vegas the place for lost souls. And, at least I’m not a stripper. Not that I judge strippers. And, the cool thing about being an anthropologiest, is that I don’t have to dress up too much. Blue oxford shirt, black leggings, and camel suede ankle boots. My only accessory is my walk talkie clipped at my hip.
The endless loop of pop playing and quiet echo of tourist voices are surprisingly calming.
Tonight I’ll have an early night. Off by seven. Home by eight. I still have some pinot in the fridge. I’ll curl up in bed and watch some Big Love. I’m up to season 3. It’s crazy that the possibility exists that at some point I could have possibly had a customer who was also a polygamist. I wonder if it’s the anthropologist in me that makes me fascinated with people living at the periphery of society.
Okay. Truth be told, I don’t actually know if I’m an anthropologist. But, I don’t know that I’m not an anthropologist. I happen to naturally like a lot of anthropology stuff like National Geographic. I mean the possibility exists, right?
And, how many people legitly get amnesia? OK. That has nothing to do with, but it does explain how I’m not sure that I’m not an anthropologist.
Fine. Fine. I know I’m avoiding the whole backstory bit. I don’t want to talk about it. My legal name is Jane Doe. Yes, it’s true. It’s the name they give people who show up half dead to the hospital and don’t know who they are. You’re thinking about Jason Bourne aren’t you? It’s never that glamorous. Believe me. I know ‘cause I joined an online support group. We meet every two weeks via Skype. And, no one of us has found a cache of passports and international currency. We’ve checked.