Writing is like being able to put life into a snow globe. It takes the things that are too big and scary and reduces them into a form that I can put away when I want and look at from a distance. It also takes all that’s good in life and captures it into something I can take out when I want and look at close up and keep forever. It makes the bad things into something I can hold…and the good things into something I can hold onto. Both help so much that I need that little souvenir of life.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Senior Sex(less) and the City: Episode #4
I can’t quite figure out if he got a bad batch of Botox on top of it all. Can Botox go bad, by the way? I mean, really, can botulism go any badder? Regardless, Flaky Fake creeps me out. Some people think he’s good looking in a George Hamilton sort of way, but, wait…maybe it’s just Flaky, who is his own greatest admirer even though he looks a wee bit stuffed. Already roasted to the color of Italian leather when he got the Super Deluxe Rain-X version of a spray on tan on top of it all, he is now antiqued to the hue of turkey jerky. If I want yellowish and preserved, I’ll get a jar of pickles. Dills. And they will undoubtedly be sweeter. I’ve learned the hard way that, whether the person is a man or a female friend, overwhelmingly concerned with outside appearances = ugly on the inside. Narcissists suck. And I mean that literally. They will feed on every one of your reserves in the attempt to fill their bottomlessly empty souls.
Next week: Episode #5, Mr. Pushy