SIGH . . . Now Robert has the green snot virus and so I will be taking Alison down to Options Treatment Center to pick up Colin. Der Bingle, who showed up last night (with Hot Headed Burritos) volunteered to go but I think it is best that I let him stay here with Summer while I go. I have the experience . . . Oh, it’s not that I have been there before; it is that I have ridden for extended hours with the person of two personalities – the incredible talking machine and – snap your fingers – the living corpse. I fully expect to be pulled over sometime by a policeman wondering about the “head lolling on the headrest with mouth hanging open” body.
I am going dressed in clean and totally wrinkled linen clothes; I can’t see the point of ironing only to get in a car with a seatbelt for about, oh, six hours total. I do appreciate the idea of being clean, though.
I may wear my little black sketcher shoes that are the beach trekkers and have mesh as a majority of the body. Kind of makes me think of those black fishnet stockings my dancing teacher wore when I was in kindergarten, only these are just shoe-level. I remember asking my mother and other people why the teacher wore those criss-cross black thread stockings and I don’t think I got an answer. Think of it, though; you walk a five year old who was born in 1948 into a room where a woman has on these things. I had never seen such a thing before. I think I was a lion for my first recital – a pastel green one with curtain tassels for my mane and stuffed ears on my hood/hat. We must have been doing The Wizard of Oz. There were three lions, the other two were yellow. That’s about all I remember, other than somersaults across part of the stage.