Thursday, April 10, 2008













Oh, the family gatherings this skirt could have endured with a smirk.

Clearly, this awesome wrap skirt could have helped you to avoid prying questions from nosey Aunties, parental nagging, and a full scale inquiry into your immoral life, but it has sold already. I regret not posting it earlier as this could is both a shield and a sword. And that it accomplishes these objectives with humor, even better.

Fortunately for me, everyone back home actually envies my profane and disgusting life. These upstanding citizens often threaten to abandon their clean living and run away to live with Auntie Samsara in the dirty dirty city. They imagine that I live off hors d'oeuvres and wine at art openings and galas (avoiding the expense and annoyance of preparing proper meals) and that I inevitably run into famous people (like Bill Clinton, Wallace Shawn and Cher) at the newsstand. They imagine underground beatnick caberets where I perform expressionistic dances and the jaded audience snaps their fingers to show their appreciation. And then, of course, handsome men in tuxedos shower me with roses, and we all jump into the Betheseda fountain. Yes, goslings, they imagine a mix of Blake Edwards movies, Audrey Hepburn's Funny Face, early Woody Allen, and La Dolce Vita all cooked up in a casserole. It would have to have a Henry Mancini soundtrack, wouldn't it?

Alas. I like that this fantasy edits out the Dickensian squalor, the working in a cubicle, and all the times I've been backed into a corner. I spend most of my evenings with NPR, and buy my own roses, usually orange or purple ones. When family visits me they are surprised by the abundance of peace and quiet.

But sometimes, if I stand back far enough and squint very hard, well (pfui, pfui, pfui, kaynehora, keep the evil eye away) maybe I can hear a Henry Mancini riff on a vibraphone in the distance.

Enjoy being the black sheep.

5 Comments:

Blogger tea said...

Oh my goodness, what a delightful post!

1) I love that skirt with a mad mad madness.

2) I love your family's vision of the big city life. I think I'll take that route from now on. Especially the living off hors d'Ĺ“uvres at art openings to avoid the hassle of cooking. (Actually, that isn't far from the truth some days.) It'll be nice to eliminate the dreadfully soul-numbing commute to work and the blandness of sitting in an office for eight long, quiet, boring hours every day.

2b) I think my family imagines that I spend all my days being snarky and elitest, constantly poo-pooing big corporations and coming up with new dietary restrictions just to annoy them.

7:27 AM  
Blogger samsara said...

Ms. Tea,

2b made me laugh so much. I think my family imagines something very similar!

2:09 PM  
Blogger Jennifer Perry said...

Hey, thanks for your comment! I LOVE your blog! I will need to take some more time to explore it today...

Great to "meet" you!

-Jenn

7:50 AM  
Blogger Pratishtha Durga said...

LOL. This sounds pretty familiar. I belong to a small city and then managed to shift to the biggest in my country. And, add to that my profile: writer, guest chef, advertising professor... Yup, rumor and fantasy mills work overtime.

My parents have no idea what do I really do for a living. I guess they stopped the guesswork years ago.

9:13 AM  
Blogger midafternoonsnack said...

The skirt is fantastic. Pity that it has been sold. The new owner must be a very happy sheep indeed.

I agree with the other posts: family and friends residing outside of the big city have strange ideas of what big city girls do. I blame Sex and the City for fostering the impression that we subsist on pink vodka-based beverages and Magnolia cupcakes.

My parents have no idea what I do for a living either.

7:46 AM  

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