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If you have overdosed on endorphins, this blog is for you. This week's blog is the equivalent of washing down two Tylenol PMs with a double dose of Nyquil, and a Boone's Farm Apple Wine chaser. It is not for the faint of heart,or anyone collecting Plain White Tee cds in the remainders bin. After all the hearts and flowers of Valentine's Day, we need a shot of reality, and the Empress decided to dive into the brittle abyss of naysayers today. Why? Because she can. And will. And she was distressed by the SF Goodwill eBay site, which she studies like an Arachnologist with a tarantula pinned to the felt board ((look up spider expert in the urban dictionary for fun: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Spider%20Expert.
)
If Rod Stewart was right about something other than predicting the rise of gelled hair, it was that Every Picture Tells a Story. On SF Goodwill eBay, it's a sad story with a Burt Bacharach hook: "What do you get when you fall in love?" Hopefully, a receipt, so you don't have to donate the heart totems someone gave you on Valentine's Day because (1) You Felt they weren't "The One," (2) You Saw them on To Catch a Predator, (3) You Knew They Done You Wrong (see No. (1))
, or (4) You Thought They'd Look More Like their Photo on Match.com.
Valentine's Day is like a hologram. Some years you look at it and it's all shiny and littered with little Brach's Conversation Hearts and tiny paper cards in your milk carton Valentine box, and you rifle through them and YES, there is one from your third grade crush, Ricky Batesole, even if his mother signed it because everyone knows Ricky can't read or write yet, but he rules at Red Rover. Other years, you look at it and -- meh -- it's treacly and sticky and the cards are all sappy and $4.99, and you go into See's Candies for inspiration and buy candy, but then they give you one sample and it turns out to be... a Rum Nougat instead of a California Brittle, and you sit on the curb outside and eat it anyway and carry that fake rum flavour around all day.
It's a schizophrenic holiday, and Holly GoLightly
would have no part of it. She was too cool and thin to eat Rum Nougat or fawn over trinkets. She made "no-name slob" sound glamorous:
“Holly: I'll never let anyone put me in a cage!
Paul: I don't wanna put you in a cage, I wanna love you.
Holly: Same thing!
Paul: No it's not, Holly--
Holly: I'm not Holly! I'm not Lula Mae either. I don't know who I am. I'm like Cat here. We're a couple of no-name slobs. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don't even belong to each other.”
Who doesn't love Breakfast at Tiffany's (and I don't mean that cheap rip off of a song by Deep Blue Something or Other, and I remember we all Kinda Hated it). On Valentine's Day, the Empress wishes that Truman Capote were alive and spoke to her in his best high pitched Southern voice, "Sugar, I only buy the finest thangs, and I will simply die if you don't let me take you to Goodwill for an iconic bracelet for your very ladylike wrist." Because San Francisco would welcome Truman with open arms and Mint Juleps, and SF Goodwill would have the perfect item for the Empress on V-Day, a Tiffany's bracelet at a Goodwill price:
Go out and have a lovely Valentine's Day with your partner, your pal or your pet. And if you see Ricky Batesole, tell him I said "hey."
P.S. On second thought rip Ricky's lungs out for me. I just remembered that he fed my pet hamster to his pet snake, and this is not acceptable even on Valentine's Day. If you are reading this, Ricky, you are a pig and we will get you when we have the show trials.
If Rod Stewart was right about something other than predicting the rise of gelled hair, it was that Every Picture Tells a Story. On SF Goodwill eBay, it's a sad story with a Burt Bacharach hook: "What do you get when you fall in love?" Hopefully, a receipt, so you don't have to donate the heart totems someone gave you on Valentine's Day because (1) You Felt they weren't "The One," (2) You Saw them on To Catch a Predator, (3) You Knew They Done You Wrong (see No. (1)), or (4) You Thought They'd Look More Like their Photo on Match.com.
