changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003

prancing ponies, a hammock, and alice in wonderland

“ frank told brian that he was asked by some gay men to make little man panties and frank went bananas and made like 50 pairs...”

after a brief pause insinuating my attempt at self-restraint, i quickly said:

“... yeah. sooo... brian ended up buying this one pair from him that are white and almost... kind of ... shimmery. and they’ve got these black ponies galloping across them.”

“oh. soooo... does this mean that brian’s ac/dc?”

“no, mom.” i responded. “he just thought they were funny. i mean... they’re not g-strings or anything. they have full coverage.”

dad’s position on a float in the pool behind me combined with his childhood ear injury which had obliterated his hearing in one ear but also knocked him back from the brink of vietnam appeared to have kept him from hearing a word of my “accidental” story.

i might start out slow in a conversation, but, given enough time, i will offer up any number of stories i wouldn’t normally consider suitable for the given audience or stories i had previously believed with all my heart that i would never divulge to another living soul. it can’t be helped. and besides, i start giving my audience the benefit of the doubt. and besides, i know that secretly, my mom gets a kick out of it. i was just shy of telling her about brian’s new concept band based on the underpanties and named pony fortress, but i felt maybe mom had had enough.

before that sunny and pool-laden saturday afternoon of the pony panties story, i had gone to see my niece play the march hare in a youth production of alice in wonderland friday night. she only appeared briefly, but did a good job. other pieces of the production were ... questionable. after the final scene, i stood with my sister in the foyer of the auditorium and gazed at the three queens.

“i’m surprised they let adults act in the play”, i said to her.

“they didn’t.”

“yeah.. the three queens.”

“those aren’t adults. the red queen is in the sixth grade... she’s 11. the white queen is in the eighth grade... she’s the same age as ashleigh. and i think the queen of hearts might be in the ninth grade.”

“sweet jesus.”

“i know. and the guy who played the griffin ... he’s ashleigh’s age.”

“holy crap.”

“i know.”

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a further conversation ensued because i found the sultry dance of ashleigh’s friend, the "budding" cheshire cat, to be unnerving on a middle schooler. i advanced the theory she would become a slut delivering blow jobs to fellow high schoolers behind the theater. lisa countered with the belief that it was unlikely because: 1) she is home-schooled in a strict environment, and 2) she had once proclaimed disney to be evil and out to control the minds of the masses. i pointed out that neither of these were helping her argument and admitted i was starting to like her more after hearing point #2.

before that, i had driven into tyler after spending a lengthy repose with brian in my bed recuperating from thursday night when we went out with dave to lee harvey’s for drinks to celebrate brian finishing his interview with the ISD of carrollton/richardson/farmers branch. we played ring toss and stared at the leaves against the starry sky from a hammock which had inexplicably appeared in the front yard.

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*i’ve spent some time trying to train my boyfriend to not extend his pinky while consuming his beverage. the training didn’t take.

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*see what happens when you consume beverages while your pinky is extended? it’s like an open invitation for other boys to try and teach you “ring toss”.

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*portrait fit for the mantel.

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*dave’s crotch. my knee.

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*while brian and i play on the hammock, dave plays “ring toss” with himself.

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*guess who got new bell bottoms and a camel toe?!?

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*that’s right... brian did!

after the pony panties story, my friend christie arrived with her husband and one year old. this was the first meeting between baby and my parents. my mom immediately caught the baby fever and quickly changed back into her suit so she could take gabe swimming. should the chance occurrence of a child ever enter my life, i’m pretty sure i’ll never need to develop any mothering skills as my mom will likely be nearby to take the kid off my hands after any three minute period. that’s a lie. my mother might dote on the kiddies, but she’s not one of those fool grandma’s who trip over themselves trying to get the grandkids to spend the night. she knows she’s got it good with the empty nest.

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mom, dad, and i whiled away the evening hours playing trvial pursuit and eating take-out from liang’s before it was time for me to head over to christie’s house where she gave me three homemade cosmopolitans in exchange for what she believed to be “adult conversation”. with me. i laughed.
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