Crisis has hit the House of Whippersnapper!! Mr. IQ has fallen for another woman!! That's right, some pretentious, neurotic American attending Oxford University has stolen his bastard, two-timing heart!
Things have been a little tense around here lately, because, as you know, I have been spending the days holed up alone with the kids. Sometimes I sneak in here and check out a few blogs, but mostly there is no real opportunity to sit down and really catch up on everyone. When I finally get the two of them to bed, and have the whole house to myself, guess who waltzes through the door and demands immediate computer rights? Oh, you know it. Him. I have to sneak in when he's in the bathroom and quickly check in on DoctorMama (who I'm too lazy to link right now, but she's over there on the left.) In other words, my blogging habit has become furtive, and feels slightly illegal. Yet I must do it, or I become shaky and miserable. I might as well take up heroin.
Anyway, because my computer time is so limited, you can imagine that when HE is hogging it, I am never far away, hovering always on the periphery and suspiciously making sure he does not stray from the task at hand. Naturally then, me knickers got into a wee bit of a knot when he began visiting this one particular blog site a little more than I deemed appropriate for someone who had "ten thousand papers due immediately."
"What the hell?" I exclaimed the 738th time I saw Alice in Wonderland pictures pop up on the computer screen. "Why are you THERE again?" "There" being the Lewis Carrol-inspired blog page of some lovely, long haired girl half my age that I (that's right, I) stumbled upon last December.
"No reason," he said, blushing, and hastily left the site. I stared at the blank screen and then at him. The true meaning of it all hit me with hurricane force.
"My goodness," I said slowly, "you've got a crush on her, don't you?"
"Oh, hell, yeah," he said, grinning sheepishly.
People, I just cannot compete. She takes dreamy pictures of herself staring up into the clouds, and actually displays them on her site. (Every shot taken of me since 2001 has me glaring into the camera with a "get that damn camera out of my face before I punch you in the stomach" expression.) She appears to speak German and French in addition to her native English. I can say "fart" in Korean, and that's about it. ("Pong-goo" -- great, isn't it?) She is a feminist, post-modernist, intellectual scholar. I am a crappy little high school teacher on maternity leave who doesn't even know what post-modernism means. (Does it have something to do with those weird movies that have creepy, mute people peeing into concrete milk cartons?) She ends her
Later: HA HA HA, I just went to her site to link her, and she's made it accessible only to her friends!! Cut off, buddy, COLD TURKEY for you!! (I wonder if she suspected that she was being stalked???)
And later still: In retrospect, it's probably just as well she has cut herself off from all strangers. It's probably against the laws of blog etiquette to link another blog to make fun of it. So I'm very grateful that fate prevented me from being a jerk. Having said that, I must confess I'm rather sorry you can't see her site, and her picture... they were... something else.
5 comments:
Ah, man! I was so looking forward to a peek at her site. Now I feel crushed and disheartened.
Hmmm... now you're making me suspicious of the times Marcel confiscates the computer to do "homework".
you should have linked us last week
from Alice:
When clouds go rolling by
They roll away and leave the sky
Where is the land behind the eye
People cannot see
Hey, if it's any consolation, I'm not exactly sure about postmodernism either; I tend to defer to my dad's view that it's really just pragmatism (in the epistemological sense) dressed up in a whole bunch of jargon to make its proponents sound smarter than they really are. But then, my dad is what some people would call "pomophobic".
Off with his head!
I bet there's somebody out there who has a blog that consists of only linking to other blogs and making fun of them. Of course, the fun of making fun of someone is doing it behind their back, and that would be hard to do in cyber space.
Post a Comment