Dotty Parker

dotty's back in town

Yes, indeed, after many days of minimal contact, I'm back in my small town living life to its chilly, autumnal fullest. It's actually not that cold today. I may plant some bulbs if I can figure out where I want them.

I plan to dig up my tender plants today. My flowering maple will die by my lackadaisical hand! Not by frost!

I got home last night and made my way to sleepytown at 9:30-ish.

But coming home is not exciting. Being in Florida with ChillyLily do is exciting!

We had fun. We had a gigantic meal the night before I left. We ate fondue until we could eat no more. And then we had chocolate fondue. And Miss Dotty had too much wine and came within centimeters of horrifying ChillyLily. Fortunately, ChillyLily has a great tolerance for my annoyances. I am a lucky girl to know her. I might have had to walk home, otherwise. I barely knew where home was. I can imagine myself getting into a taxi and saying, "Um, I have to go home, but she's really annoyed. It's apartment 512. There are lots of palm trees."

I wouldn't be very successful in getting home, I don't think.

Get home, however, I did. There was even a song composed for our benefit. The libretto is available here: "Changing lanes, la da da. Changing lanes, la da da." The tune is, alas, lost to history. Perhaps it is better. The joy will live in memory with no future alterations to sully its pristine nature.

I went to dinner one night with ChillyBilly. We made lists of actors and actresses we'd marry. At the same time we had Jamaican curried shrimp with pineapple-ginger soda. Being there was like being in Jamaica. They were out of two-thirds of what was on their menu, half of what ChillyBilly wanted that wasn't on the menu, and yet they decided to make us some food that was on the menu anyway. Shrimp instead of goat, but I'll take it.

I have an amazing story to tell about a terrorism heretofore unheard of. Microterrorism. Yes, maybe you've heard the word, but this entirely new. One kind of Microterrorism: driving slowly.

Yes, my dears, when there's some bastard in front of you who is driving slowly and making it impossible for you to pass him, he is engaging in Microterrorism. That's right. I have forgotten the other examples ChilLil gave me, but I hope one day to share them with you. It could be that Jamaican restaurant was committing acts of Microterrorism with their list of things that they didn't have. Could be!

ChillyLily took me to the Salvador Dali museum. It was small, but very impressive. I had been under the mistaken impression that he wasn't a very thought-filled artist. It seems that, in fact, he was. Really amazing stuff, too. He did a Disney cartoon that has been recently released, apparently. I saw most of it at the museum. It is strange. As you might expect. He also made advertisements for hosiery and liquor. Whattaguy!

ChillyLily also took me to the beach that very same day. We walked along the shore waiting for sunlight. She found pretty shells. I wasn't looking, but she would have found more anyway. She's a genius and an artist. That makes it easy for her to find pretty shells. We got in the water to splash around. I kicked something that I think was alive and I screamed like a pansy-girl and then laughed at myself while ChillyLily stayed calm and chill and said, "Just come over here where I've already walked." Yeah! That's a swell idea!

The next day we went sailing. The wind was odd, blowing randomly and intermittently. We wandered around the water. I tried sailing. I tried. ChillLil got us home. I got a tiny bit sunburned, but it was totally worth it to skip around looking at people on the little island beach talking about things and non-things.

And! As if it's not enough to do all the stuff we'd done already, we went to "Frida's" for lunch. There were references to Frida Kahlo all over the place. I suppose it's somewhat similar to Salvador Dali in that a lot of it is silly and then more stuff sinks in and oh-boy, things are weirder and smarter.

We had a tiny elfin waiter. He was absolutely adorable. He was flamboyantly gay with his capri pants and his many many rings and his cute hairstyle. I loved him. I bet he would be lots of fun to play Cranium or charades with. That's what I bet.

That's just a little of what we did. I had so much fun. So much fun. Coming home is nice, but sometimes it's sad when there's just so much fun to be had.

Posted by dotty at October 7, 2004 03:26 PM