When
Life Throws You Potatoes, Make Vodka
Written by Marsha Mellow
April’s
fool’s day was a couple of months ago but it would
seem I am still suffering from the fool’s month.
Oh what a night, it was on one of my whimsical nights
that I had attended a party for my little friend Mark.
And I don’t mean little friend like he is the type
of moe that sports a twink body. He is virtually a little
person much like the ones I exploited by that reality
show “Little People Big World” and Gene Wilder
in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. Now
my little snippet of fun comes in the form of a 3’6”
little hunk of embodied cuteness. Whenever I am around
him I get this odd giddy feeling in my tummy like butterflies
are having an orgy. Of course on this particular night
it might have been my lunch from earlier that day of Cheese
its, and orange peanut butter M&M’s. April was
the month I was only eating food that were rich in my
favorite color orange.
It
was my little snippets birthday and I would not have missed
it for all the Grey Goose in the world. The night was
a mosaic of Bacardi Torched Cherry Rum, and my signature
Gutter Slutty Trailer Dwelling so Dirty Ron Jeremy would
blush Grey Goose Martinis. The entire bar had been transformed
into the set of Munchkin land - an exact replica from
the 1939 film, the Wizard of Oz. That alone was enough
to make me lose my freaking mind. No detail had been left
out right down to Dorothy’s house which was plopped
down in the center of the dance floor with two legs poking
out from beneath it. Marc had really embraced his munchkins.
The only way it could have gotten better was if they had
done a mash up between Munchkin Land and the Chocolate
River from Willy Wonka’s factory. Of course for
this party it would have had to been a waterfall of Godiva
Chocolate Liquor flowing into the adult chocolate river.
I
am not really sure how it happened and I have replayed
it in my head over and over, and then over again. Somehow
towards the end of the night I had found myself inside
Dorothy’s bedroom with the Birthday boy. We were
all over each other like two high school kids that should
have been doing their Geometry homework. I did not care,
could not have cared less that there were hundreds of
people right outside dancing to the beats that DJ Joe
was pumping into the brains of the party goers. That little
munchkin can kiss. Hello! I was making out with a midget.
Yes, I know that word is wrong but that is what it was.
Sometimes you just have to go with the moment and it makes
for a great story. I was getting busy with one of God’s
chosen ones.
Of
course my deeds would not go UN punished. My new conscience,
John Robinson, a Jiminy Cricket for rent that my parents
had hired who’s sole purpose was to keep me on the
straight and narrow and out of trouble, barged into the
tiny house waving my cell phone like it was the Olympic
torch. The whole moment played out in slow motion. Behind
him were several party goers and Marc’s twenty-something
boyfriend who was still riding on his fifteen minutes
of fame after being booted out of the top twelve on American
Idol. That little 115 lbs of nelliness went off. I found
it odd that someone would draw that much attention to
themselves when they looked like they had just gotten
done with a date rape in the parking lot.
Humiliated
I tossed my little chocolate confectionery maker from
my body. Humiliation quickly faded as I pushed my way
past idol wannabe snatching my phone from the grips of
John, and tossed it at the overweight drag queen, Sarah
Belle Palsy, who was dressed as some Dorothy Gail infused
Lady GaGa tribute. All of the looks I was getting by the
judgmental duh-licks were too much. I had decided to leave.
The
muggy April air was very sobering but not enough for me
to out maneuver, my very own Jiminy Cricket who had recovered
my cell phone and was making futile attempts for me to
speak to whoever or whatever that was plaguing the line.
It
was my Mom. What the air had not been able to do her voice
did - I was as sober as I was the day I was born. She
had called with a plea for help, her sister, Aunt Baby
Jane, as we called her had fallen and shattered her hip
and she was going to have to go and spend the summer with
her. Why I was being bothered with this useless information
was beyond anything fathomable thought I could have had.
It seemed the reasoning for her call was that she needed
me to spend the time with my dad. My sisters were busy
with their lives and families and since my life is one
of little meaning and leisure it was left up to me to
spend my summer with him. I removed the phone from my
ear and looked at it tilting my head back in forth much
like a dog does.
Had
this woman not met me? She laid the guilt on as heavy
as delectable frosting on the cupcakes from Edible Creations
by Jenn. I usually don’t pack for guilt trips, only
for trips to Europe. My mom had made some valuable points
but the argument that drove it home was the threat of
being taken out of the will. That is a lot of dirty martinis
at stake and a bottle of Diva Vodka that I plan on buying
first. When it comes to vodka, the first thing that comes
to mind is Russia. Surprisingly, the most expensive vodka
comes from the lands of Scotland. The Diva Vodka is the
world’s most expensive vodka which almost looks
like a perfume bottle. Every bottle of the Diva vodka
contains precious and semi-precious stones, including
diamonds. The vodka is triple distilled and then passed
through a sand of crushed diamonds and other gems. It’s
only right that I get it because I am after all half Scottish
and it is named Diva and it only costs $1,060,000. It
has to be nirvana in your mouth.
There
goes my summer. I had planned on spending it traveling
with my drag queen friend, Rita Book, who had just captured
the part of Edna Turnblad, in the traveling production
of John Water’s musical Hairspray.
Later
that night I had walked by a shelf that holds many of
my favorite trinkets that I like to display; my Swatch
Watch collection, the necklace that I had received from
Buddy Holly’s widow one night at one of my performances,
my DVD collection of all the seasons of Prison Break and
Sex and the City. A picture of me with Lady GaGa before
she blew up and the world was not as aware of the talent
that would break out into a paroxysm of art set to music.
Then I saw a picture I had not really looked at in years
sitting on top of my favorite books, Ayn Rands The Fountainhead
and Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye were laid
on their sides acting as a stage for the photograph. Behind
the glass incased in a copper frame showed a picture of
me performing to Madonna’s Holiday. In it I am seven
and in the background is my dad nursing what lookes to
be a cocktail with a look of confusion in my direction.
Who was he, and does he know who I am? Maybe I should
take this time that was being given to me to get to know
the man I honestly never knew. For the longest time I
just believed him to be a liar because when I had entered
puberty he told me that masturbation would lead to blindness
and make the Virgin Mother cry. God you have to love Catholics.
To this day I see 20/20. After I discovered masturbation
and had thirty something years of it I should not be Helen
Kellering my way through life.
I
called my mom and told her I would be there on June first.
June
1st - My life is in a skillet! The summer time in the
south is like being bitched slapped by Satan.
I
arrived at my childhood home and just as I was about to
enter the home where I had put on all of those shows for
Aunts and Uncles, family, friends and neighbors the big
wooden and glass doors flew open I was pelted by pussy.
Six cats of different sizes and colors were being pelted
at me. And after dodging the last one my dad came running
out behind it. Stopping in the driveway looking for my
mom’s car. He explained that he has to get them
out before my mom gets mad or she will give birth to a
litter of kittens of her own.
My
god, five minutes into this misadventure, what’s
next or do I dare ask… to be continued.
|
March 2011
Because I Care
February 2011
Full of Hate
January 2011
The Christmas Show That Never Should Be Part2
December 2010
The Christmas Show That Never Should Be
November 2010
Time Travel
September 2010
The Past Is A Prison
August 2010
Summer Is Cooling Down
July 2010
Taking Care of Dad
June
2010
When Life Throws
You Potatoes
May
2010
Food
Is The Enemy Part2
April
2010
Food
Is The Enemy
March
2010
Laws
For Love Part2
February
2010
Laws For Love
January
2010
The Ghost of Resolutions
Past
|
