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© 2004-2008 Linda Escaip
"I may be grumpy, but I like you."
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The Suns and Moons of the Grumpiest Girl in the Room.
Welcome to my journal, my pretty.
62
Things You May Or May Not Know About Your 06-Jan-2005 9:32 a.m.
I can't think of anything to write, so I'll try to dazzle you with tidbits about my life. Oh, my God, calm down. It's not that exciting.
First off, you should probably know that Hickory Barbecue Kettle Chips (the baked kind) taste like barbecue woodchips, and I like eating them very much. I also love spaghetti, but I'm currently on a bread-free diet because my body tends to be under the impression that anything containing wheat is the devil. Lame, I know. Paul Newman (that righteous stud) and his lovely daughter Nell have delicious wheat-free, dairy-free cookies called Fig Newmans. Please make a note of it. And please don't mention cake within 3,476 yards of me.
I have never committed a felony, but I have made U-turns where it was prohibited.
I have stolen two things in my life. Here's the story of the first thing I pilfered.
One day I strolled down the street to Mary Poop's house, my neighbourhood pal.
"Hi, can you play?" I asked when she opened the door.
"I have a friend over," she said in her bitchiest, you're not good enough for me tone.
Then the darling Mary Poop slammed the door in my face. I could feel the sting of hot tears in my eyes, and as I turned to leave saw the orange and blue plastic bubble pipe on the step near a bottle of bubbles. I sat down for a minute or two on the step, moving the pipe around in my hands. Then I got up and walked off with it, feeling very smug. Take that, you mean weenie.
I explained the events to my mom, who called Mary's mom and told her I had taken the pipe because my feelings were hurt, and she would send me by later to return it. So, I fucked off down the street to the Poop residence later and apologized to Mary. She couldn't have cared less about the stupid pipe. I should have taken her bike.
The other thing I stole was a packet of PEZ candy. I love those and would eat them on crackers, I really would. I would toss them in a salad. So, one day my family and I were in a far away land. You know how when you were a kid it seemed like you were thousands of miles away from home when you were just in the next city? We were in another city, and for some reason we were cruising through this little grocery store. I found a single packet of PEZ candy that someone had removed from the larger combination package. Obviously I was about to pinch something that had already been part of a previous pinch-attempt. There it was, resting on the metal ledge that separated some vegetables. Hello, packet of orange PEZ; you will be mine. So, I put my hand over it, you know, like I was just resting there for a second, and slowly dragged it beneath my palm until I craftily placed it in my pocket. Later that day after I ate the little orange bits, I got a bad stomachache and vowed never to steal anything ever again. And I didn't. Wait. Crap. I'm remembering all this other shit I stole.
It was the eleventh grade cast party for Bye Bye Birdie. I played the part of Kim, in case you're familiar with that musical. I had one beer, which equals drunk when you're me. God, that was the night I met Chef Pinky, who took me for a ride on his motorcycle, and then we made out in front of practically everyone at the party. Shut up; I was a virgin until I was almost twenty. Back to my thievery. We had our cast party at someone's house—one of the drama students. At some point I had to use the bathroom and so did my friend Millie, so we ventured to the bathroom together. While she sat on the toilet, I noticed this gorgeous lamp with these crystals dangling from it. Heaven. I wanted one of those dangling beauties. I mentioned this to Millie, who carefully removed one of the crystals after she had finished with the toilet. I still have that crystal, and I still feel bad about that lamp.
And I snuck into some movies in my day, after the movie I had paid for was finished. I've watched some black box cable too. Then there was that time my friend stole make-up for me (I didn't know she was going to do that) and I used it. I broke out in zits. And one time at a party, another friend swiped a souvenir bottle of brandy from the host's house and put it in my car. I drank the whole bloody thing one night with a different friend and puked until I could puke no more, and during those festivities I banged my nose really fucking hard on the toilet and gave myself a permanent bump. You really shouldn't steal.
I spent thirteen years of my life pretty sure I was Fanny Brice in a past life. I still wonder. I was sure when I grew up I would marry Barbra Streisand's son, Jason. That still tickles me. I did marry him, in a dream I had as a teen. We got married in New York, and there we were, standing on the steps of our apartment building, saying goodbye to Barbra, who was going back to Los Angeles. I got to hug Barbra Streisand in my dream, because after all, she was my mother-in-law. I had really awesome hair too. And then this song started playing, the way a song would kick in during the ending of a movie, and I was singing the song. It was all so exciting. I was in the best mood for a few weeks after that dream.
My sister and I shared a room when we were little, and we had matching beds. These beds had posts (not the really high kind), and one morning we were still in our nightgowns and we were jumping around like dorks. I was on my bed near the foot of it and somehow managed to get my nightgown caught on the post, which left me dangling up there, sort of like a forward-protruding hood ornament. I couldn't get down, and my sister rolled around on the floor laughing her ass off. When she composed herself enough to go get Mom, they both stood there, laughing themselves assless. I was laughing too. I wish I had seen it.
One day my brother and his dorky friend called me over. "Hey Linda, come 'ere." I was probably three or four. My brother put a can of Comet cleanser up to my face. "Breathe in really hard through your nose." So I did, and as I did, the fucker smacked the bottom of the container, sending powdery chemicals into my sinuses. My mom had to take me to the hospital. Thanks, bro.
I have never had a broken bone.
I am in love with the sky, especially the night sky.
I do not enjoy going backward, except in my mind.
I think Charles Nelson Reilly would make a wonderful president.
Bagdad Cafe is one of my favourite movies.
I hated my first major kiss.
I am allegedly below average height for a woman. I never thought of myself as short until a small, frail-looking little guy (a teacher of mine) kept telling me how "tragically short" I was. I think he was just really happy to find someone he towered over, if only by two inches. I let it bother me for a little while and then left that nonsense in the dust where it belongs.
I have never owned a new car. My favourite car was my first: a Datsun 510. Man, I loved that car. My parents had it painted white before they gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday, and it was just the cutest thing on wheels. I wish I still had it. I am planning to buy my first new car this year.
I've been in chronic pain since 1996 and I think that's long enough.
Want to hear about the first time I saw someone masturbate? You know you do, you perv. Well, I was about eight years old and I was at my friend's apartment. I'm going to call her Elaine. After we watched some television, we ventured into her bedroom to play. At some point she was lying on her bed and she retrieved a severed doll arm from her night table drawer. All of a frigging sudden she was rubbing the doll arm on her little area. Help.
"I like to do this sometimes; it feels really good. Wanna try it?"
"No, thanks. I have to go home."
I never went to Elaine's apartment again.
Remember that show Emergency!? I loved that show. But I thought all the emergencies were real. I didn't realize the people were actors, I guess. I had a crush on Nurse Dixie McCall, played by the lovely Julie London. My parents took us to Universal Studios, mostly because they thought it would help me understand that the stuff I saw in movies and on television wasn't real—monsters don't exist. I bought it for a while, until I saw "Friday the 13th." Sometimes I still scare the living crap out of myself thinking Jason Voorhees is behind me when I'm washing my face at the sink.
I can't stand lying and insincerity and have a built-in mechanism for sensing both.
I have seen three UFOs in my life.
I love Newcastle Brown Ale.
I do not like white chocolate.
I have a bit of an aversion to following along with the crowd. More than a bit, really. I have always been fairly certain I am from the moon, or someplace similar, because I don't fit in around these parts.
I have never dyed my hair. Years ago I sprayed it with some of that Sun-In bleach spray, and it made my hair turn an orangey colour. I tend to be disappointed when I look in the mirror at my refection, but I love my eyebrows. When I was eleven, I developed this severe dislike for my own hands. I decided they were unsightly and began to sit with them tucked under my thighs. I have no idea why, because I have some nice hands.
Paul Newman and his lovely daughter Nell also make a fine organic microwave popcorn. I am enjoying some of that now. Speaking of Paul Newman, he reminds me of this time in tenth grade I hung out with some popular people for a while. My friend Millie had been sent to a private school and my boyfriend had broken up with me right before high school began, so I didn't really have anyone to hang out with. Luckily, my two pals Pat and Kat called to say, "Hey, why don't you hang out with us?" So I did, and we had some fun for a while. But the pressure started mounting when they began asking me who I was interested in dating.
"So, who do you like?" I was asked daily by a bubble gum-chewing Pat or Kat. And every day I had the same answer.
"No one."
Well, I guess after a number of weeks my answer was teetering on questionable and I sensed it, so I pulled any old guy out of my butt one day and pointed him out.
"Oh, my God, that's Josh Perth. He is such a fucking babe!" They knew who he was, because he was a popular senior. I chose him because he looked a little like Paul Newman, and because he had been standing nearby when they happened to ask that time. I honestly thought that would be the end of it, but apparently it was only the beginning. Yes, now was the part of the game where you made a perfect asshole of yourself trying to get the other person to like you back.
So, after the unveiling of my imitation crush on Josh, I was told daily to "just go up to him."
"And do what? Offer him a Corn Nut?"
I was informed that by just casually walking up to him and starting a conversation, we'd get to know each other and perhaps attend the upcoming dance together. I so very much did not want to attend a dance, nor did I want to humiliate myself by talking to some gorgeous, popular senior I was pretending to admire from afar. But eventually I could not avoid their obtrusive nudging further and just went up to the guy. He was quite friendly, and smiled such a sweet, genuine smile that I sort of wished I did have a thing for him. Soon after that, Millie's parents let her attend my high school, and I stopped hanging with the popular crowd and got involved in the theatre production and became, yet again, an authentic drama geek. Back where I belong.
Fashion gives me the shits.
The night before a gig I had some years back, I dreamed I was Tom Hanks. The night before the show after that I dreamed I was Tom Arnold. I'm just going to pretend that's not weird.
Quote From My World
"I like the way you stir."
There you have it. Some things you didn't know about me that you may or may not have wanted to know, but that you most certainly do know if you read this far and were paying attention. I hope you enjoyed.
Well, I'm off to choreograph the dance routine I have planned for my next entry. Thanks for reading.
Linda
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