deeper I creep
GOTH GIRL WINTER
Do Sirens eat you? Because just making you jump overboard and drown seems petty and dumb. In Homer it is either outright said or heavily implied (I do not feel like digging through my college Greek books right now) that the Sirens fuck you and then sex-slave you, but there would seem to be a limit to how many sex slaves one colony of Sirens could support, and (from the Sirens’ POV), it would make sense to eat the ones you were tired of.
UNSATISFACTORY (FOR SOME)
LT and I had one symphony concert in our subscription that was smack in the middle of a weekday, and it happened to be on one of the worst weather-days so far this winter (“wintry mix,” which is Midwestern code for a mix of icy rain and rainy ice). I know, “wintry mix” sounds like some fun trail mix or a boozy punch recipe but really it is a mix of two bad things, like sucking diseased donkey penis AND being stung by wasps at the same time or being forced to host waxy-face Elon Musk for dinner and play board games afterwards.
Luckily Symphony Center is literally 10 or so steps from the El stop. Once we took our seats, I could not stop listening to the group of women sitting behind us. They were all kind of complaining (mostly about the lunch they had before the concert—both food and service seemed to be lacking!), but one of them was complaining a lot more than the others. She hated the seats they had, why was it so cold in here, why were so many of the female violinists wearing pants, etc.
So that was already amusing to me, and then the concert started. The first piece was contemporary—the composer was actually in attendance—and it started on a somewhat dissonant chord. The most vocal complainer lady behind me immediately said “HMMPH!” rather loudly and I almost laughed out loud. It’s a Rite of Spring riot waiting to happen, right here at the afternoon matinee!
THINGS I RECOMMEND
These two astonishingly subtle and somewhat backhanded phrases that I have tucked away for future use. The first is from my rewatch of Search Party (a show you should try, if you are not familiar). In the season 1 episode “The Captive Dinner Guest,” Drew tastes the spaghetti sauce and whines, “This still doesn’t taste like Mom’s,” to which Dory replies, “Wow, that’s some really frustrating feedback.” Isn’t this a great comeback? Because my natural inclination when criticized is to get defensive as fuck, I am going to henceforth deploy “Wow, that’s some really frustrating feedback” to signal my disagreement and also buy some time to think.
The other phrase gave me a chuckle when I was listening to a podcast. The host was doing that really annoying thing where they ask a question, like say maybe about an interviewee’s book, and then proceeds to basically answer the question for them. Something like what were you thinking when you put this in the book, like maybe you wanted to [insert the most obvious answer here, but be sure to make it long-winded, possibly even longer than it would have taken the interviewee to answer the question about HER OWN WORK]. This particular interviewee was beautifully chill about it and said, “Well, thank you for reading so closely.” Isn’t that just so awesomely cold-blooded? Thanks, show-off. Is it my turn to talk now?
In this time of holiday parties, may I recommend out-of-the-box icebreakers? I like to ask, “Is it hot in here?” (Sometimes I ask if it’s cold in here, just to mix it up.) You can get a lot of mileage out of this, even with a stranger! Whether they agree or disagree you can talk about how bodies are weird, other perpetually hot/cold people they have known, the thermostat wars of their childhood or office: so many things! Another good icebreaker is to ask about which Muppets the person considers fuckable. (You may want to strategically decide which of my icebreaker suggestions to use. Funeral luncheon? #1. Boozy bacchanal? #2. The funeral luncheon that is also a boozy bacchanal? Anything goes.)
Actual item I recommend: this cuticle serum thing with a groovy applicator. The stuff is kind of oily but in a good way and it really works.
Music: Wooden Shijps. Books: All’s Well by Mona Awad; Reprieve by James Han Mattson; A God in Ruins by Kate Atkinson. So far I’ve read 164 books this year, quite a bit more than last year’s 157 with nearly two weeks left to go. What’s up 2022? Hide from my responsibilities in a pile of fiction? Don’t mind if I do (did).
If you like weed, I recommend getting high and then doing a bunch of body maintenance stuff. I want to stress that this is not “self-care,” I do not feel affection for my inner child or any such shit during the process. It is a meditation like chop wood carry water, polishing silver, washing a car. Do a really good job flossing, tongue scraping, mouthwash, the whole mouth enchilada. Get out the lotion and moisturize everywhere. All the body things that are kind of boring to do properly on a day-to-day basis: get them done instead of watching TV.
Because it recently happened to me for the first time ever: I recommend incorporating the alarm into your dream! I thought that was just a thing in books and movies. I also almost never sleep hard enough to need an alarm (or need one past the first tiny noise it makes), so that could be part of why I was a dream-alarm virgin until now.
Last, I highly recommend having your college kid home for almost a month, starting tomorrow. Although he will be taking an online class and knee-deep in math much of the time, he will get to do it with nice food and a nice mattress and as much holiday cheer as I can reasonably provide.
—mimi smartypants is goth dancing (and prancing) in Jingle Bell Square.