Tuesday, June 26, 2012
though I went to the place wherein utopia resides i did not enter the water but not because of the tides it was just the sort of evening, without my friend cj, that meant the torture machines were the only way so i spent my time at the Y on the bike watching tv with wendy nearby in her pink sweat suit waving at me all was well though it wasn't nearly the same without my dear friend cj of swimming fame! ~Denise Leto~
"What's the difference between a Pack Rat and a Hoarder?"
Sitting on the top shelf of Utopia, Sandy pauses, head bent, sweat dripping from her brow, then glances up at PP, "A Pack Rat knows that there's some use for an item and so won't throw it away. For example, I had this Christian Dior Jacket and it was missing the buttons and so I went to Goodwill and found myself some authentic or authentic enough buttons and sewed them on and you know now whenever I wear that Suit out, people look at me and say, "That is such a Beautiful Suit." And I just smile and nod and say, "Why thank you."
"So a hoarder would keep the suit but not find any buttons to make the suit useful?"
"You got it."
PP nods, but wonders if she really does. Get it. She’s the opposite of a Pack Rat. She throws everything away. Papers & files (she recycles these); Clothes (okay, she leaves these at the Chandler Apartments Lobby knowing that Someone will find a use for them); Books (yes, she actually dumped several boxes worth of ‘useless’ paperbacks in the blue recycling bin when last she moved, sacrilege as that is).
And sure, there are a few things that she ‘collects’—not of her choice, of course. People insist on giving her things even when she’s proclaimed a moratorium—e.g.: cat Knick Knacks, Hello Kitty stuffs, refrigerator magnets.
So, when the idea of keeping something, no matter what it is, just for the sake of keeping it, of not being able to throw it away for whatever reason, does elude her. Although she kinda gets the idea of sentimental attachments to ‘things’, esp. obvious things like a child’s toys or a dead pet’s collar—yikes! She does save these!
What the hell does that mean?
She can’t let go of all her cats? The collars symbolize a yoke to the Feline Ghost?
And these used and frayed cat collars definitely have NO use, so they’d, according to Sandy’s definition, be in the Hoarder’s category (no pun intended).
Hoarding Dead Cat collars.
What was she thinking?
Of course she gets it.
But yet, she could maybe resuscitate her reputation a little by reusing these, right?
Why couldn't Pablo use Alice's old collar and Sylvia could use Gertrude's and....
No. This would be wrong. Cats deserve their own individual collars. It's the least she can do for making them even wear the damn things. Which she has to. Cause what if they got lost and didn't have their phone numbers and ....
Hell, she better just admit it.
She's a Cat Collar Hoarder.
And proud of it.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
“You know, you aren’t allowed any Product in here.”
PP sets the green bottle of conditioner on the sauna bench next to her, glares at Anti Product Woman since it’s dark in the sauna and she can get away with it.
What the hell was her problem anyway?
PP had been getting a Hostile Vibe from her the moment she’d entered Hilltopia.
PP had just been lying there, minding her own post swim exhaustion business, when APW entered and sat down next to her. Too close.
Why? There was tons of room in the sauna. APW coulda sat on the other side of the sauna, far far away from PP and her Potential Product Unveiling.
But yet, no. She’s sat too close and sent out those Hostile Vibes.
Was it because PP was in her favorite spot? PP knows that everyone has a Favorite spot. She liked the top shelf corner, and that’s where she was today. Maybe this was APW’s favorite spot too and she was miffed that she couldn’t have it?
Or had APW seen PP swimming and been irked for some reason? Though PP couldn’t imagine why. Sure APW was a ‘walker’ and not a ‘swimmer’—nothing wrong with that, but maybe APW had seen PP swimming and wished she could swim too?
Or maybe APW was just a Stupid Bitch.
“I know,” PP now answered to the Product Intention Question. “I wasn’t going to use it in here. Just getting it out....” (If that’s okay with you, you stupid bitch---PP refrained form this though. Why start an altercation if it can be avoided?)
And Chevron Movie Woman musta thought the same thing since she piped in, “Yeah, you know people hang stuff all over the rails there.” She pointed vaguely to the hot stones surrounded by a little wooden fence. “Even though there’s a sign right above it that says, “Do NOT hang anything on the Rails.”
CMW laughs nervously.
“Yeah, well, there’s no sign that says anything about Product,” PP states, just for the hell of it.
“There should be!” APW snorts. “There is at other Y’s.”
Yeah, well we’re not at other Y’s are we? PP wants to answer but decides to keep silent. It’s obvious, right? No sign forbidding Product means that Product could be used, but PP knows better. She’s respectful of the other ‘sensitive’ members and scent.
Not that her Green Apple Suave Conditioner doesn’t smell terrific. In fact it might help APW if she used some. Make her smell better.
Did she smell bad?
PP couldn’t really tell. But her attitude smelled bad.
“I’m going to go see the movie Bernie for the 3:50 show. Have you seen it?” CMW pipes up, eager to steer the dialogue away from Product?
PP wonders. She’d never thought of her as someone who’s particularly sensitive to what is going on around her. She babbles about inane movies she’s seen, her various boring work scenarios at Chevron, her condo association’s imposition on her time.
Yet today, it does seem like she wants to smooth out the air. Take the tension away.
PP likes this. It’s so unexpected. And welcome.
Not that APW has any clue that this is going on. She’s sitting next to PP fuming. PP can feel the heat radiating out of her and it’s not from the sauna.
Why oh why are Social Protocols in place that prevent one from partaking of such fun provocation?
It happens on Soap Operas all the time.
Daisy barges into Phyllis’s apartment. Offering a stupid gift of a glass elephant that Phyllis just flings away, shattering it against the wall. Daisy yells about how she’s just trying to be nice. They need to get along. Phyllis hisses that Daisy is a liar and she is only trying to get into her good graces cause she’s married to Phyllis’s son. Daisy says that she loves Daniel and Phyllis just has to get used to it. Phyllis grabs Daisy and shoves her against the wall. Daisy fights back and slugs Phyllis in the gut, sending her into “Oh MY GOD OH MY GOD! What have you done? I’m going to lose the baby” convulsions, doubling up in pain, and collapsing on the shag carpet.
Daisy walks out of the apt, smug smile on her face as Phyllis continues to scream in agony begging her to call 911.
If only PP could partake of one tenth of this kinda Reckless Drama! Why her life would be so much more exciting!
CMW is babbling about how much she adores Shirley McClain even though she’s a bit older now and her old movies are more entertaining though she’s really looking forward to seeing this movie today......
APW is still seething, eying the bottle of Green Apple suspiciously. Like what does she think PP is gonna do?
PP glances over at her, and then slowly opens up the bottle of conditioner. Takes a long slow whiff, ‘Ummm....smells so good...” she coos.
“You better not use that Product in here!” APW exclaims, nostrils flaring.
“Oh, why ever not?” PP sings, squirting out a big green glob on the palm of her hand, letting small bits of it splatter onto the wooden bench, dangerously close to APW. "There's no sign saying I can't."
“I’m warning you! You better leave now or else....”
“Or else what?” PP asks sweetly, as she begins smearing the gooey green into her hair.
APW stares down at CMW, who grins up at her sheepishly. “I think it smells good.”
“ARRRGGGHHH!!!” APW cries, collapsing in stricken horror, suddenly paralyzed. She watches helplessly as PP finishes applying the goo through her hair.
Writhing pitifully on the sauna room floor, APW raises one arm, weakly, beseeching PP to take pity on her. "No product...." she whines. "....allowed...."
PP gazes at AWP for a moment, then squats down next to her, placing the open bottle of Green Apple Product on the floor beside her, too far for her to reach. Too close for her not to smell.
Waving bye-bye to CMW, PP saunters out of the the sauna, AWP’s cries echoing pitifully as she heads for the shower, a smug smile spreading over her face under her goo laden mass of Green Apple Hair.
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