1. THE COOKING SUCKS, BUT THAT’S ALL YOU’RE GETTING
Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy cooking.
But when I’m stringing words together, I sort of disappear into the story, the memories, the narrative. I sort of forget the world around me, you know?
Thus, the burnt bacon on Saturday mornings, the snotty eggs, the black toast.
“Kim, you’re burning the bacon again,” says Mr. Liverpool.
“I thought that’s the way you liked it, hon.” I answer.
Behind these doors, you get what you’re given, dude, & you’ll freaking like it. ( of course, I don’t say this aloud! )
2. I KNEW THE REAL CRAZY EYES
When I worked as a croupier, there was a Bahamian girl who loved me. Her eyes burned holes thru my skin like a lit cigarette.
Doesn’t that feel good? Doesn’t that turn you on?
The heat made me quite uneasy.
Glancing up from the blackjack table, I’d see her staring, smiling, winking, her white teeth glimmering from across the slot machines, the roulette wheel, the rolling cigarette smoke.
I say to Mr. Liverpool, “I think this chick digs me. What should I do?” He’s no help.
On one of my nightshifts, the pit boss brings me over a dozen red roses.
How sweet. How kind of Mr. L. It wasn’t even my birthday or anything.
Walking to the break room to put the roses in a vase, I hear a loud clickity clack behind me getting closer & closer.
Yes, It was Crazy Eyes.
“HEEeeeey, Gorgeous!” she yells. “Did you get the roses?”
I gulp. I freeze.
I have loads of words stored up to say to her: I’m married. I don’t like girls, well, not in the way you do. Stop looking at me from across the craps table. You’re eyes are burning my skin.
…but all I manage to utter is, “Thank you.”
3. TRUE GIRLFRIENDS STICK TOGETHER WITHOUT JUDGMENT
On one my Minneapolis excursions, I go little wild, a little crazy, a little too many pomegranate martini-y.
I dance. I twirl. I’m not sure with whom, but I hear it was, well, dirty dancing. NOooo! Not Miley Cyrus dancing, more like Jennifer Grey dancing.
So, I come back home and I’m feeling all guilty. A married girl doesn’t behave like this. A Christian girl doesn’t act like that. I’m such a disappointment, and not only that, I have a horrendous, throbbing headache. Ten or more martinis will do that to you.
I call my girlfriend, Tia, to confess my sins.
I need comfort. I need somebody to love me, accept me, listen to me without judgment.
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line.
Finally, she says, “Why the hell didn’t you take me with you, bitch?”
And this, my dears, is the reason we’ll be girlfriends forever & ever.
4. SMITH COLLEGE ROCKS THE WRITERS
The kick ass author of Orange is the New Black, Piper Kerman, graduated from Smith.
This is the same all female college that Sylvia Plath, my favorite writer /poet of all time graduated from.
Ariel. The Bell Jar. Lazarus. Colossus. Daddy. Elm. The first poet to win the Pulitzer Prize.
Yeah, that Sylvia Plath
When Plath wrote to her mother about her experience at Smith, she said, “ “The world is splitting open at my feet like a ripe, juicy watermelon.”
I wonder if Piper felt the same way. Well, did you, Piper?
5. INMATES WEAR ORANGE BECAUSE IT’S PART OF THE PUNISHMENT
I gained 50 pounds during my second pregnancy. Shut Up.
I guess it was from the big ass chocolate donuts I devoured for breakfast everyday.
Why, oh, why didn’t I crave pickles like other women? You know those women, right? Those annoying, adorable, flawless women who gain 18 pounds, run five miles a day, & teach yoga during their third trimester.
I hate those women.
Anyway, after the baby was born, I felt skinny, liberated, amazingly sexy.
To celebrate, I bought a deep tangerine dress from TJ Max.
The first time I wore it, a little
shit girl walked up to me at the Miller Hill Mall and asked, “Are you going as a pumpkin for Halloween?”
I NEVER wore orange again after that, but I do wear a massive amount of black.
—-Darling, Readers, have you watched or read Orange is the New Black? If so, who is your favorite character? xx
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