I am living in ChicagoBrazil (you know the one). Driving an old beater late at night through the streets of SouthSideSaoPaolo, feeling a little bit nervous and vulnerable because I'm alone, and it's a dangerous place, I'm told. I get stuck in an odd midnight traffic jam, so I abandon the car in favor of sliding through a long metal chute to get back home. It's pretty rickety, with lots of landings to step out on, and lots of random metal parts to get caught on. You can't go very fast. But I make it to my destination eventually. I'm wearing a poufy red taffeta gown that I made myself, and even I know I look ridiculous. Like Ursula the Sea Witch. But I like it.
I'm in my kitchen (the one from my childhood), packing to go on the Bob Mould cruise, which will start in Chicago and go down the Mississippi, through the Panama Canal, and on to Los Angeles. It will take a month. While I pack, I'm making breakfast on the floor, on a tiny George Forman grill that is made out of Tupperware. How does it not melt? I'm breaking up little pieces of breaded soy chik-en patty and grilling it with a red pepper. It's cooking very slowly, probably because Tupperware can't conduct heat. Chris comes in for breakfast and I realized he's left his greasy chorizo on top of my vegan patty. (Is this a dream?) I'm irked, but I show him my new lime green bustier anyway. I'm really excited about it because it will show off all the weight I've gained. I'm very plump and fleshy and I'm REALLY excited about it. Also, I dress like Cyndi Lauper now.
Becky Reynolds comes into the kitchen, because she lives with us. She is extremely nonchalant about the fact that we have to be at the airport in an hour, with the car parked. Where are we going to park the car at O'Hare? For a month?? Why do we want to spend a month on a boat with Bob Mould? I'm a fan, but that seems a little bit excessive. We don't even know if Chris is going to get to play any of the shows on the cruise ship. This scheme seems really foolhardy to me now, and Becky is just as blasé as she can be about the whole thing. I need her to care!
No comments:
Post a Comment