January 8, 2004
Another Seven Minutes (from the gay man)
A WordGoddess contribution
Okay, before I get to the WordGoddess collab (seven minutes of free-writing), I must share this e-mail that I got from a person who came across my website via Google:
"i plugged "edemame" into google and got YOU!
so i've never really read an internet blog before, though i've had a goal to get one up and started, but still spinning my wheels as to how to do that.
but that's not why i'm writing you. i'm writing cause for some distorted twist of reason, my first venture into your 2003 non-recap read was with the illusion that you were a MAN and calvin was your best buddy playing videogames.
then i thought, "wait ... are they partners?" like live-in and all. then when i finished with his head in your lap (all innocently, of course), i shook my head thinking that calvin didn't look gay (Editor's Note: Inside joke; Hey Heather - BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!) and why weren't there any pictures of you ... and then it occured to me - you might be a woman?!? and it all came crashing into place.
so hi, laura. my first impressions of you were as a gay man.
cheers!
candace
ps: loved the crazy dog "argh matey glass eye" pic. laughed right out loud, i did! (Editor's note: Took me a while to find what she was talking about, but here it is.)
I snorted beer out my nose. God, this cracked my shit up. And Calvin, too - there will be no living this down in *this* house.
I guess I could just transcribe the lyrics to the Journey song that I'm listening to right now (thank God for headphones at work, is all I can say) - that would take up seven minutes. But instead I shall record here the inside jokes that Marie and I have been tossing back and forth between each other via text messaging on our new phones today.
"What are you doing after this?"
"Reloading the bag and going again."
"I found it in the bathroom."
"Thanks, Mom!"
"There is no such thing as the Krazy Klam!"
"Get that camera outta my face!"
"Hit it with a rock!"
"It was only eight seconds, but it changed my life."
"Did I stutta?"
Because last night, while she lounged on the loveseat and I draped myself over the couch, everything struck us funny. My relationship with Marie has crossed over from adult-to-cool-youngster, to the girlfriend-to-girlfriend language we use today. Which may or may not be fulfilling my job as role-model ("Just remember, Marie, I am SO not a role model!"), since not everything that I say to her, or that we talk about, is entirely appropriate for a fifteen-year-old.
Lately I've been finding it easy to forget about her age, though. Which could be dangerous. So far Calvin hasn't complained about my influence on his daughter (it's quite possible his is worse, the jury's still out on that), so maybe I'm not as bad as I seem to myself. Marie seems to think I'm hysterical. Her friends have labelled me "tyte", which is apparently good.
"Laura's cool. She's hard core. She knows what's up." Because I can talk to Marie while laying on her bedroom floor (and later, her bed) from 11:20 at night until 4:47 in the morning. And offer parental advice over the phone to her (drunk) friends. And talk about any topic - none are off-limits, or too awkward. And not act shocked at what she, and her friends, are willing to talk to me about - because I'm not.
And not judge. And remember what I was like back then, thirteen oh-so-long years ago. Hell, I'm not sure how much actual growth I've really indulged in since then.
Clearly, seven minutes is not enough time to talk about this.
This month's WordGoddess topic is to free-write for seven minutes.
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