March 3, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): There's no sense in hoarding all that great social energy -- it's flowing through you and needs an outlet! Make new friends or find someone who needs a lift, as you can improve any mood.
My role at the funeral home seems vague. I think Theodore just likes the company. I suppose if my life were surrounded by corpses, I’d feel the same way. The service this morning was SRO. Beforehand, people were spilling over into the office, eager to share with anyone—that’s me—an anecdote about Mrs. Millicent Bowry-Jacobs, daughter, wife, sister, teacher, friend booster. Hearing them talk, I wanted so much to have known this woman. And I wanted to be part of the circle of love that she brought out. They were clearly distraught and yet the positive memories seemed to overtake each person I encountered.
Except for the plumber. Yes, Richard stopped by before AND after the service. “You can call me Dick,” he said, attempting to be lewd. At a funeral. Nice. I have a feeling Millicent did everything she could to put Dick in his place.
He asked me out, of course. Down, Dick, down. It was the one time when “no” came out of my mouth with the greatest of ease.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
SHOWED UP TO THE FORERUNNERS GROUP & WAS IMMEDIATELY EMBARRASSED. “IS THIS A WOMEN’S GROUP?” I ASKED.
“OH, NO,” SAID A VERY CHEERY FORTY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD FLIGHT ATTENDANT TYPE. “RON USUALLY COMES. BUT LESLIE SAYS HE HAS SHIN SPLINTS.”
“SO I’M IT?” AND THEN, IN MY HEAD: I’M IT! MY GOD! NO COMPETITION! IT WAS LIKE SOMEONE SNUCK ME INTO THE SORORITY HOUSE. OR THE SORORITY MOMS’ HOUSE. INTRODUCTIONS CAME IN A FLURRY. MEG, MARGIE, MADDIE, TWO MELISSAS. WHAT’S W/ALL THE Ms? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP IT ALL STRAIGHT?
NO NEED FOR CONCERN. ONCE WE STARTED THE RUN, THE LADIES LEFT ME IN THEIR WAKE. EMBARRASSING ONCE AGAIN. MALE EGO CRUSHED. AND A SERIOUS CALF CRAMP.