Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Optimist Goth with a Side of Brilliant Short Story
I can’t really write anything, although in defense of Trixi the Dominatrix, I must say that I LOVE my hair, even tho Nick still contends I am trying to look young for my age (MZA chivalrously disagrees).
I think what Nick is really saying is, I don’t look like the other mommies. Which is what he told me one time. He was talking about these two (very nice) mommies and I said, “Am I like them, Nick?” And he just looked at me, stupefied, and said, “No, you’re not a traditional mommy.” MY FAVORITE COMPLIMENT!
So the other day he was asking me what "category" he fell into because at school they are going through the Breakfast Club classification nightmare, as in, "jock," "geek," etc. I said, "Well what category do I fit into?" He regarded me steadily and said, “You, Mommy, are an Optimist Goth.”
That is the name of my new band.
I am so not “Goth,” for crying out loud. It’s just because I wear black all the time.
I am wearing pumps for the Client Meeting and I feel like the houseboy in La Cage Aux Folles who keeps veering all over the place and falling and walking crooked because he has to wear shoes. It’s a little scary. They are Dansko pumps, tho, and sing MUSE they are comfortable. A wee bit too high on the heel, which puts me into Wilt Chamberlain territory, but that’s OK.
One final thought before I tout you onto this short story that KNOCKED ME OUT yesterday: Bode Miller--party boy, frat-goob, hype-buddy--needs to dust off his copy of the Myth of Icarus. That is all I hope.
Now, read this story by Tao Lin. Note the elegant dissection of life in real time. This, ladies and germs, is talent in its purest form. |
Cynicism is another word for reality