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Monday, November 27, 2006

Lady of Leisure (Read: Sloth)

“I like the word "indolence." It makes my laziness seem classy.” ~Bern Williams*

Between November 3rd 2004 and January 14th 2004, I lived as a Lady of Leisure. I did nothing except for golf and go out for lunch, occasionally having an actual class to go to. Between January and May, I studied abroad in Spain, which is code for I went on a bender through Europe including a puke fest on my host mother’s toilet after a night of champagne and vodka/red bulls at some posh Madrid club. There was also sangria. When I returned home I did the unthinkable; I baked. Cookies, muffins and a cake and then drank the nights away over a bottle of the Yellowtail while I pined away about not having a job and how I would actually die if I didn’t find a job and health insurance for the inevitable alcohol poisoning.

I’m adept at doing nothing. Really fucking good at it. Right up there with playing the clarinet and listing the members of the 108th Congress in alphabetical order, I can totally sit around and do nothing. It’s my thing. In fact I spent four! Whole! Days! Doing nothing except for eating pie and the occasional filet – of – fish**. In fact when I finally ventured over to see my father, you know that man who is responsible for one half of my GNA, largely the half that says drink the bottle of wine, but also says why the hell can’t you hit par? Whyyyyy. Yeah, well him. When I finally did see him he questioned what I had been doing all day. I responded truthfully that I had been eating blueberry pie and then rolled over on to my back and watched Bamboozled (I told you G was channeling Marcus Garvey) and then actually had a physical altercation (I called him a fucking fucktard and kicked him) with G over the last piece of stuffing (G, being the more mature younger sibling that he is, then offered up his piece of stuffing after asking whether or not I minded a little Frank’s red hot on it. Love him). Thus the reason for why I couldn’t visit my dear old dad. I suck.

And strangely enough, being home in Upstate NY is the best environment for a life where the only necessities are cable television, a dvd player and a mother who makes sure that her babies are properly nourished with stuff crust pizza. There was nothing I had to do. In theory though, being particularly indolent and gluttonous isn’t a good quality to have. Neither is telling your father that you would have come over had your television watching habits been conducive to watching Luke and Laura’s first episode together. But whatever. The point is that right now, LB is enjoying a life of leisure. I phoned her and she’s been busy in Brussels and Paris and is now home and eating chips and she baked a motherfucking pumpkin pie.

Really, you should clearly ignore me now for it’s all the jealousy speaking. And because I could totally use more pie. And cable. And quality time with my golf clubs. And a life.

*Yep I’ve used this quote like 14 times now. I love it.
**I’m paying for this now. It’s called a waistline and it is not clearly visible.



Blogger Dagny said...

G and I need to hang now that he is in his Marcus Garvey phase. I actually own the soundtrack to Bamboozled. Bought it after seeing the film in a preview showing. Oh, and did I mention that Spike (Lee, not Jonez) did a Q&A after the screening.

I'm thinking we must sit down and talk one day. I keep trying to tell my family that although I do a lot of things well, I really was not meant to work. Because the working thing? My mother, who thinks it's perfectly normal to own 200 pairs of shoes, keeps saying that the longer I teach, the more "radical" my thoughts are. And this from a woman who thought that it was OK for by Panther uncles (It was the 60s.) to babysit me. And now she wonders where I get this stuff. Don't even get me started on the Booker T. versus Garvey debate.

11:19 PM  
Anonymous jes said...

Eww. Golf. Everytime I pick up a club to go golfing with my dad, who is a really good golfer, I get ANGRY. Like, the game of golf physically makes me angry, and so after general throwing my body about the course and forcing my dad to suffer through two full-blown temper tantrums, I came to the conclusion that golf? Perhaps is not my sport.

11:20 PM  
Anonymous alyndabear said...

Why is it so easy to do nothing, and too hard to do something?

Sucks balls.

3:01 AM  
Blogger Heather B. said...

Dagny: Good, you hang out with him and talk African Nationalism and I'll shop and drink wine. I bet he'll take you to Martha's Vineyard with him so that you can accost Spike Lee while he hangs around and says 'durr'. This actually happened once.

Jes: So, you don't like golf I take it. Interesting. The only time I throw a tantrum is when I can't hit par. That shit pisses me off to no end.

Alyndabear: Doing nothing is the nicest thing in the world, but I will admit that after a while, it can get pretty boring. I need a happy medium.

9:41 AM  
Anonymous Angela said...

Mmmm. Pie...

(Hey, my word verification is "ycarat"--I say why NOT carat! Yes, carat! Lots of carats please!)

12:32 PM  
Blogger Bone said...

Weird how this blogosphere works. I now think of you everytime I order a Filet of Fish.

Uh, I guess that's all.

Oh, I like cherry pie best.

2:36 PM  
Blogger ducklet said...

i wonder if adeptness at doing nothing is part of the upstate new york culture. i spent my adolescence in Watertown and i think that's where i learned that productivity is highly overrated.

3:01 PM  
Anonymous Gooseberried said...

I'm like you. I pretty much never get bored when I'm in my habitat.

On another note, sorry. I'm way behind on reading your site! I've had a busy ass school week. I'm slowly catching your site, not school.

5:28 PM  

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