Life is but a dream
As I lay curled under the covers reading this morning, my mind turned to my Grandma Phyllis. She was always talking about her “stories.” Blah blah this, and blah blah that, on and on about the half-dozen soap operas she watched every day. I would roll my eyes and sigh with impatience and think, I will never be such a loser as that. Huh. Hooked on soap operas.
“So, last night on Angel? When Wesley did that thing, and Cordelia did that other thing, and then - omigod - Connor? Well, and then Lila. Could you believe what happened? No one will ever recover from that.”
Hello, my name is Kelly, and I am a soap opera addict. The only difference between my grandma and me is that my “stories” come on at night. Except now they don’t - since I can watch them any time of the day on dvd. So now, I guess, I am officially my grandma. Go ahead, roll your eyes. I don’t care. She also liked to write and she could shoot a rifle and make anything she wanted to with her hands. She even used to sew monkey clothes for a living.
You heard me.
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At the bank the other day, Ruthuline was asking me when Scott’s coming home. That’s Ruthuleeen, not Ruthuliiiine, only the way she says it contains several more syllables than one would normally use, her being southern and all, but that’s neither here nor there.
Anyway. She was asking me about Scott and I told her that this time apart has been a good opportunity for me to stretch my wings and break out of a habit of dependency, as I’d always been “a princess” - allowing, nay demanding, that Scott do my every bidding at every hour of the day. Him being the sweet-natured teddy bear that he is, he’s always seemed happy to comply, but that’s not the point. The point is, I didn’t know what I could do because I’d always let him do for me.
After I left the bank, however, I began to get a little anxious. What if she’d taken me literally? What if she believed I was a real princess and started curtsying to me every time I waltzed in to play with my money? What if she and the other tellers began addressing me as “Your Most Royal and Esteemed Highness”? Should I practice the royal wave and solemn nod? Will I have to wear my tiara? Maybe I should buy a pushup bra so I’ll look alluring in my empire-waist robes. Oh, gah, I have no shoes… I really need Scott to come home so I don’t have to think about these things anymore. They worry my pretty little head.
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And to think I was going to waste our time talking about mullets. Picture a tiara on one-a those. You guys, have a great day. It’s gorgeous here. kiss xo
March 30th, 2006 08:46
I’m sorry, I just can’t get past the “monkey clothes” line. Was this a line of clothing for a monkey. Or jumpers made out of little monkeys?
Every princess deserves a monkey skin tiara.
March 30th, 2006 08:52
Fence, of course, being the self-absorbed princess type, I never paid much attention to what my grandma said, so I don’t remember the details of the monkey story. I think someone who owned a monkey, privately, hired her to make clothes for it: diapers, etc. I’ll have to ask my dad for more details, or if he reads this, he can supply them himself. That is, if HE was listening.
Ooh, a monkey skin tiara… Plus, I could fashion their sharp little teeth into matching earrings and necklace. xo
March 30th, 2006 09:27
There are way too many funny things about this post.
1. Your grandma made monkey clothes?!
2. Ruthuleeen is so very southern I feel like I need to be eating grits while I look at the word.
3. You actually own a tiara, don’t you?
4. Empire waist robes are so 5 minutes ago. If you want, we can go shopping at Madam Malkin’s Dress Robes later today. Ready your wand and your Firebolt and I’ll be by around lunch time. (I’ll need to stop by Gringotts on the way so bring your tiara.)
March 30th, 2006 09:42
I am happily obsessed with my evening “stories” also. They make me happy.
I wish I had a monkey. If I did, I would commission you to sew him clothes. Especially diapers. I’m not cleaning up after any dumb monkey.
March 30th, 2006 09:44
Heathy, I knew you’d understand about the monkey clothes. No, wait. I mean, about Ruthuleee-ehn. She’s so very North Wilkesborian that sometimes I don’t understand her. I’ve been here almost 9 years and my ears still have trouble attuning. Pah. Sometimes my own ignorance disgusts me.
When we were at a museum gift shop in Charlotte, I actually stood before the tiaras they were selling for a good fifteen minutes, wishing that Torie was still little so I could buy one and pretend it was for her. They were so awesome. I DID buy a tiara when I was in Wales. You know me so well.
I JUST mentioned Hogwarts today in Fence’s comment section! Hogwarts! Of COURSE I’m coming with you. Do you think they’ll address me as “Your Most Royal and Esteemed Highness” at Gringotts? And I SO wish we could wear robes every day of our mundane and sordid lives. xo
March 30th, 2006 09:47
Anne, first off, let me congratulate you as a fellow addict. Second off, however, I must tell you that monkeys scare the bejeebers out of me. I read The Monkey’s Paw when I was little and didn’t sleep for years. I swear like a sailor when I sew, and loudly. I HATE sewing, a point I can’t emphasize enough. I’d get my grandma to do it for you, but as she’s currently incorporeal, I don’t know how she could thread the machine. I could ask, though. Well, if you had a monkey.
You made me laugh with your dumb monkey statement.
xo
March 30th, 2006 10:00
Let’s see, you’re turning into your grandma, and she could shoot a rifle?
I think I’ll just keep my lips firmly sealed………
March 30th, 2006 10:27
Oh I know who you are now.
Princess Poopy Pants, right?
And I’m wondering, is Ruthuline a made up name or is it just American?
March 30th, 2006 10:35
FM, okay, I was being more symbolic than anything… My g’ma was one of those self-made wimmins, and I admired her. I cannot shoot a gun, in that I’ve never even tried, and have no desire to. I’m pretty good with a bow and arrow, though, so you’re right to be nice. xo
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Claredy, waaaaait… you remembered Princess Poopy Pants from an earlier incarnation, didn’t you? Clevah gel. It’s also what I call Heather Anne. And let me make this very clear: Ruthuline is a SOUTHERN name - and owned by one of the sweetest li’l belles you ever did meet. xo
March 30th, 2006 10:37
Ooo…if we could only wear robes all the time. With our jammies underneath. I would be so into that.
I live near our city zoo (not close enought to smell, just close enought to walk) and we have the greatest monkey exhibit. Lots of ropes and climbing stuff…but if one jumped out, I think I would definitely scream and run away. They are cute behind glass. Sad but cute.
March 30th, 2006 10:44
First of all, I just have to laugh. My grandma called them her “stories” too. I haven’t heard that in a long time. For a while I was hopelessly addicted - I won’t say to which ones - until I got so busy I didn’t even have time to watch the tapes I made while I was working. But lest you think I’m being self righteous, I watch LOST and ALIAS, and 24 devotedly each and everyweek. Can’t live without ‘em. A trades a trade, a spades a spade. Hey - that’s probably why I don’t have time to watch the daytime soaps…..:-o
Oh- as for the princess thing - better that than for Ruthie to think you didn’t need your prince anymore…. independence and self confidence are great. Good for the soul. Rewarding any time, but best when shared.
love you Kells
March 30th, 2006 11:03
Mornin’ (Princess) dodda!! Your G’ma, just to clear things up, was asked by some of the patrons of the craft store she part-timed at over the holidays to make the monkey clothes after they saw her working on some clothes for my sister on her lunch break. (My sister being a cute little monkey thing). She ended up sewing clothes for several ladies after they referred her to their friends. I was SO PROUD of my mommy. She actually could do just about anything she set her mind to do. And just for you skeptics out there….I met Ruthuleen and she is a real sweet southern lady with the nicest draaaawwwlll you’all ever gonna heaarr. Also, my momma could and did shoot left-handed. Lest you think she was perfect, Dad told the story of her seeing a big buck (male) deer and levering out all the bullets without ever shooting the gun. She was an excitable lady. And I am like I am because she was shooting gophers in our yard with a shotgun and accidently pulled both triggers at once on the ol’ 12 guage and was knocked off the porch onto her bottom (when she was 8 mo. pregnant with me). I really miss her. Have a spectote-e-mous day, dodda. love, dad
March 30th, 2006 11:04
Your Most Royal and Esteemed Highness (curtsy and bow) I fully expect you to wear your tiarra next time we “coffee” together, as I want eveyone to know one of dearest friends is a princess. I’m sure it will elevate me in people’s eyes and cause them to treat me with even greater awe and respect. Maybe even give me free stuff.
Oh, and your comment about how you “really” got Johnny Depp after already saying you got Colin Firth was a little suspicious. Don’t be trying to steal my boyfriend….um…Your Majesty. (bowing and backing out of the room)
xo
March 30th, 2006 11:05
PS. I really enjoyed our visit with you and the kids. Now I’m back into my cave. dad
March 30th, 2006 11:17
Anne, would you scream like a monkey while you were running? I would! In fact, I do;, every day! And I much prefer nakedness under robes, in that jammies tend to rub and cause friction. I have enough stress in my life as it is; I don’t need to be adding any. OH, I SO wish we could wear robes. And the women in burqas (sp, I’m sure) are bemoaning the fact that they have to, probably. The grass is always greener, or the sand is always cooler, or whatever…. xo
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Karedy top, it must have been a generation thing to call them stories. I’ll bet they learned that term from listening to radio shows, what do you think? I was addicted to Lost last year, but never got connected emotionally to 24, although I watched it. I’ve never seen Alias, but was thinking about renting the seasons to see what the fuss is all about. After the other dozen series I want to watch first.
I fully expect to fall back into princess mode the moment I pick Scott up at the airport, and make him drive home. Aaaahhhh. Wonder what he’ll make me for dinner that night?
xo
March 30th, 2006 11:20
# May I have your attention please. If you’ll note the comment by “dennis,” (a.k.a. “my dad”) you will find that I was, indeed, telling the truth in this post. You may want to mark this date and celebrate it annually, as it’ll probably never happen again. Thanks.
March 30th, 2006 11:28
Fodda, thank you for crawling out of your self-imposed internet cave to back me up. I’m glad you decided to visit again… I remember the shooting gophers story, now. Do you think there’s some connection between that and the time Mom stood in the backyard with the shovel, waiting for gophers to pop up out of their holes so she could bash in their little heads? She may have been pregnant with Danny. Or it could just be that brain-damage is hereditary.
I miss Grandma, too. xo
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Jeans mcBeans, do you REALLY think I’d try again if I got Colin FIRTH? No, it was Colin Farrell, dang me. You can have Johnny; you guys are a fit. Definitely. He’s too cosmopolitan and suave and, I don’t know - something indefinable - for me. I need a guy who’d wear purple socks, like Gabriel Byrne. Or okay, Scott.
And you KNOW you’re the true princess, so stop that trying to suck up to me. People POUR free stuff out on your head, and call themselves blessed. It’s sickening, and not a little frightening. And it’s exactly why I hang out with you, except also that I think you’re awesome and cute. smoochus. xo
March 30th, 2006 11:47
hahahahaahhaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
Oh, and Colin Firth/Colin Farrell. I am definitely out of the celebrity loop. Duh.
I think I did that with two other celebrities on your blog once. Something to do with Heather Anne and two Mathews. Oh well, in spite of all my ignorance I am still IRRISISTABLE.
March 30th, 2006 11:49
opps! IRRESISTABLE. I think if you are going to capitalize something you ought to spell it right.
March 30th, 2006 13:43
This is a wonderful post! I was just going to ask when Scoot comes home? I’m starting to miss him too.
If I had a monkey (the one my mother always denied me) I would most certainly want your grandma to make it clothes for me.
March 30th, 2006 14:08
Jeans, oh stop laughing. It sickens me. Honestly, the toadying. And I’m laughing now, because I was just cracking my knuckles to type something smarmy about your spelling, when you corrected yourself. Whew for you, huh?
Yeeeeah, what was that? Which other Matthew were you talking about regarding Heather Anne’s crush?… I vaguely remember. Did it have something to do with Junior Mints?
Can you BELIEVE how many question marks I’ve used in this comment? Does it sicken you? xo
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Jenns, out of everyone I know, YOU, my darling dear, are the most likely to want a monkey. I’m sorry your mommy never complied. How insensitive of her. You do know monkeys throw their own poop at you, don’t you? They’d probably throw somebody else’s, too, if given the opportunity. Monkeys are dirty little things. Nasty dirty.
Scoot scoots home on April 29th. I’ll tell him you miss him, and when I do he’ll go, “Whaa? Who?” and then I’ll go, “You know, ‘Arrested Development’?” and then he’ll go, “Oh yeaaaahh… I LOVE her.”
xo
March 30th, 2006 15:35
I was going to take the mick out of that name but then I read that she is a friend of yours and a sweet lady so………um………….
I have a tiara!!!!
March 30th, 2006 15:36
I feel really sick.
Toadying?????????????????????
March 30th, 2006 16:34
I’m sorry, everything that you wrote past the words “monkey clothes” was lost on me. I’m okay with that.
March 30th, 2006 16:35
Kell, of COURSE you have a tiara! That makes all the sense in the world! After all, you are a Kelly… There’s no way in the world I could make up a name like Ruthuline, and while she isn’t exactly a friend, she IS a very sweet person who remembers every single bank customer by name, occupation, rank and serial number. Amazing. So yeah, we can’t take the mick out of it. Whatever that means…
xo
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Jeans, I’m sorry I made you sick, truly, because I’M sick. Seriously sick. So’s Torie, and Jesse just went to the doctor. Can you believe that? It came on suddenly, too. Weird. I think we all have the flu. URGH. We’re ordering pizza in, if we feel like eating later.
Toadying is what you’re doing when you’re trying to butter someone up. See? My blog is also educational!
xo
March 30th, 2006 16:37
Kassi, Fence said the same thing. I thought you, of all people, would appreciate the monkey clothes because the first time I read your blog, you were contemplating making cat’s clothes. Maybe your brain got stuck there because you’ve veered from your true calling: Maker of Bitchin’ Cat Clothing, and it’s time to return to the dream. Just a thought. Please start with a cat bra. Please. xo
March 30th, 2006 17:19
Hey Kelly when Scott gets home maybe we can both chip and get him his own website. Glad you had a great time with your folks. And Dennis that really does explain a lot. Got to get out and see you one of these days. Hey Kelly just wanted to know that you will always be a princess. Have a great day your extremely royalness highness. Take care
Did this comment make any sense?
March 30th, 2006 18:17
oh. my gosh.
am I going to have to bring over a pot of chicken soup?
March 30th, 2006 20:25
Kelly, I know all about monkeys and their love of feces throwing. In the wild they throw all kinds of stuff. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want one. In my dreams, I would train it not to. But my evil mothere cited diapers and destroying the curtains as the reasons why she was going to veto the monkey. She also vetoed the bat idea, the snake and the tarantula. Basically, I lived a deprived life.
I’m glad Scoot will remember be as the AD person. Not only that, he’ll love me and that is important.
March 30th, 2006 23:53
I have thought of a cat bra, and a dog bra in fact…but the trick is where to place the adjustable niplet covers.
Monkey clothes are cool. Just don’t forget the tail hole.
March 31st, 2006 00:57
Roddy, your comment made perfect sense, especially the part about me always being a princess.
Frankly, I’m amazed that a person I’ve known as long as you still indulges my vanity in this department. You’re a true gem.
Scott barely reads my blog, and types about 6 words per minute. There’s no WAY he’d have his own, though it would be interesting, considering the strange stuff that goes on in his head. Maybe I could devote one day a month to his ramblings, and type while he dictates. They could, very possibly, rend the very fabric of the universe. Fun, huh? I hope you have a good day, too. xo
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Teeny jeans, I love your chicken soup. I love that you put fresh spinach in it… But we’re actually feeling better. It was weird. The doctor said nothing’s wrong with Jess, though he was feverish, and although Torie and I are still a little dizzy we’re better. Beezarre. We’re probably all just exhausted, since we live like bats and still have to function during the day. Maybe you could bring blood? No? (and to think, vampires scare you.) You’re my sweetie pea. xo
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Jenns, NOW I remember having the monkey discussion with you before. You know, I always wanted a snake when I was a wee thing; I’ve never been afraid of them; they actually fascinate me. Bats, too. I adore bats. Adore them. But tarantulas? HO no. I don’t like crawly things with multiple legs. Which is partly why I don’t like monkeys. Plus, they’re just pure eeveel.
You and Chaz will go down in our personal history as our personal AD people, and we will construct a shrine to you, and bring you monthly offerings of monkey poop and figs. xo
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Kass, aha! Adjustable niplet covers! See, destined…. I believe you’ve already made the magical flying capes, haven’t you? Cat capes are the coolest idea in the universe.
Monkey clothes without tail holes would be cruel and unusual punishment for the wee eeveel little things, wouldn’t it? I approve. Mwahaha!
March 31st, 2006 07:40
Please skip the figs. Charles hates them and I’m not real big on them either. Could you bring cheeries instead?
Tranatualas aren’t mean or anything. They make nice pets and they aren’t even poinsonous. But I know how most people don’t like spiders. Monkeys need to be taken out of the crawly-things-with-multiple-legs category. They are more swingy than crawly and besides, if you have ever held a monkey’s hand, you’d change your mind. Oh, and spider monkeys have skin on the ends of their tails that is just like the skin on their hands and feet, so you can hold their tail like a hand and that’s really cool.
March 31st, 2006 08:37
Hi Jennsing. This is what I wish for you. I wish for you a compound in the jungle, a place where you can raise all the wild things your heart desires. Your children will swing naked on vines and grow up to be Nobel Prize candidates. You will never ever eat figs and only pomegranates and cherries. I’m serious.
It could happen!
xo