| The Incredible Shrinking Woman | |||
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Friday, May 09, 2003 ( 9:26 AM ) Melody I now pronounce you wife and wife So later today Belinda and I are headed to South Bend, Indiana for the rehearsal to the gayest wedding of the century. Melissa and Melissa (something just creepy about that, no?) have been together on and off for about 5 years. Little Melissa (the younger, from here on known as Missy) is a mess. She and Belinda dated briefly about 11 years ago. She and Belinda's good friend Andrea also dated years ago (much more seriously). For years after, even when involved in other relationships, Missy found it necessary to romantically accost both Belinda and Andrea, even when they were otherwise involved in relationships, even when their partners were close by! Needless to say, Missy and I did not see eye to eye about her trying to kiss my girlfriend in the bathroom of a bar a few years ago, just after hugging me and telling me how glad she was that Belinda and I were still together. Missy was, of course, with Melissa at that point and, I believe, even trying to conceive a child, but whatever. You can see what we're dealing with here. In the past couple of years, Missy seems to have it a little more together, and I can tolerate her now. She and Melissa still have their ups and downs. As late as 6 months ago, Missy threatened to move out of the house they share. Melissa retorted by asking Missy to "marry" her. Now I don't have anything against gay weddings. I'd like to have a ceremony myself some time in the future, but a proposal of marriage on the eve of a break-up doesn't seem all that prudent to me. Missy was delighted, having purchased a wedding dress she just happened to have fell in love with a year or two before. Why, you ask, would a lesbian purchase a wedding dress-- especially if there was no marriage proposal from man or woman in sight? Why indeed. Missy and Melissa are opting to go "traditional"-- as traditional as a lesbian wedding gets, that is. Missy is playing the part of the bride with the white dress and the veil, and Melissa is dressing in a tuxedo. They have bridesmaids in dresses and groomswomen in tuxes. Belinda was recruited to be a bridesmaid but declined and agreed instead to be an usher, also requiring a tuxedo. She got fitted a three weeks ago and actually looks really good in it. Missy and Melissa have some interesting friends, including the "groom's" sister who, on our last meeting, informed us that she had "tagged" another girl in this circle of pals on the campus of Notre Dame University. This should make for a great weekend. # ( 8:52 AM ) Melody Would you like an M&M with that feces? I am a bathroom stalker. I admit to being one of those who peers through the crack in her stall to make sure that you're washing your hands. Oh I'll try to bite my tongue and not say anything to embarrass you if you don't, but I sure as hell won't eat your jelly beans or M&Ms or borrow your salt shaker at lunch. I prefer to minimize my contact with your bodily wastes. At my last job, my officemate Heather shared my disgust for unsanitary bathroom habits. She went so far as to post Wash Your Hands, Please signs in the bathroom, and we freely shared intelligence on the habits of our co-workers. This wasn't gossip. Call it pre-emptive measures. One particularly bad offender was our immediate supervisor, who never washed her hands but kept a bowl of Skittles on her desk for our One-on-Ones. Those were diseased Skittles. Even though I did not partake, I got a little sick to my stomach every time I watched other co-workers walking from the direction of her office with a handful. Another offender had a skin disorder that caused her to flake on anything she touched, most notably all of the chairs in the conference room we shared. That, and her insistence on wearing mostly black clothing, could have been overlooked. Unfortunately, she was also "licky." She was forever putting her flaky hands into common bowls of candy or chips, licking her fingers, and then going for another handful. I don't even tolerate double-dipping in the salsa over dinner unless we are related or intimately acquainted, so you would think I would have lost weight working that job. # Thursday, May 08, 2003 ( 1:47 PM ) Melody A message to young mothers I go to coffeeshops to relax. There's nothing like chillin' over a hot cup of finely ground bean through my lunch hour after a long, hard morning's work. Now I know young mothers need this kind of respite, too. It must be exhausting to chase a toddler around the house all morning. I'm sure I'd make arrangements to meet a friend at the coffeehouse at noon, too. All I ask is that you bring along an appropriate cage and/or harness for your little monster. Do not allow her to run rampant through the shop, forcing other patrons carrying steaming hot drinks to dodge her. If she begins to throw a tantrum, please drug her, or, at the very least, come scoop her off my table and try to calm her down. If she screams and thrashes on the floor repeatedly, please take the hint and take her home for her nap. And for heaven's sakes, is it too much to ask that you keep her at least ten feet away from me while she picks her nose and looks for somewhere to wipe it? # |
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