Is This the Party to Whom I'm Speaking?

(Photo stolen from these guys)


[RING RING! THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A TELEPHONE! RING RING!]

LAURIE, THINKING:  The phone is ringing.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Hello?

GUBBY:  Heyyyyyyy.

LAURIE, THINKING:  It's Gubby.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Whassup?

GUBBY:  Would you please post something to your blog?

LAURIE, THINKING:  Gosh, I'm flattered, Gubby -- I didn't know you liked my blog that much.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Yeah, I know, I will tonigh --

GUBBY:  BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF PEOPLE OUT THERE WONDERING IF YOU'VE SLIT YOUR WRISTS YET!

LAURIE, THINKING:  It was too good to be true.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Nahhh, I'm over my funk.

GUBBY, OUT LOUD:  Well, hurry up and post something.

GUBBY, THINKING:  Hey, they said "thirty minutes or less" . . .



Thank you to all of you who left such kind comments here while I had the blues.  It meant a lot to me, and I read each one (as always).  But, while I was certainly not lying in bed all day or shuffling around Elsinore holding my father's skull, I was too down to write and answer e-mails.  I felt better last night so I sat down to write -- I've got it!  A photo essay.  I have a lot of photos of my grandparents I need to look at . . .

So it turns out my funk found it's focus on my grandfather, and the Big Fat Ugly Cry that was inevitable, happened.  It could just as easily have been about cheese, which is not to take anything away from my grandfather, but rather to tell you that GIRLS ARE WEIRD.

But there's something you don't know.  While I was right in the middle of my Big Fat Ugly Cry, sitting here at my desk at the convergence of two large windows, the phone rang.


[RING RING! THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A TELEPHONE! RING RING!]

LAURIE, THINKING:  It's after 10:00 -- Gubby must have mixed my number up with the pizza place.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Hello?

DAD:  Laurie, this is your dad.  What's going on out there with that car?

LAURIE, THINKING:  Huh?  What car?

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Huh?  What car?

DAD:  Whaddaya mean, 'What car?'  The police car!  Where are you?

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  I'm in the office.

LAURIE, LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW, THINKING:  Holy crap, there's a police car almost on my lawn!

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Holy crap, there's a police car almost on my lawn!

DAD:  You were in the office and you didn't NOTICE?

DAD, TO MOM:  She's right there in the office and she didn't notice the police car!  Well, I don't know what's the matter with her --

DAD, OUT LOUD:  How could you not SEE that?  It's RIGHT THERE!

LAURIE, THINKING:  He called me to harangue me for my inattention to detail.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Well, I was stoking the fire in the dining room, and then the corner between the windows hid the police car -- WHY IS THERE A POLICE CAR ALMOST ON MY LAWN?!

DAD:  That's what I called to ask you.  There was another car -- did he give him a ticket?  Oh, why am I asking you --

DAD, TO MOM:  No, she hadn't noticed.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Well, he just drove away.

LAURIE, THINKING:  This is the reason sanitariums were invented.

DAD, OUT LOUD:  Okay, good night.

LAURIE, OUT LOUD:  Good night, Dad.

LAURIE, THINKING:  Oh GAHHH, I sat right there in the window honking into a Kleenex and blubbering through my Big Fat Ugly Cry while a deputy sheriff was giving someone a stern talking to, almost on my lawn.  Maybe he didn't notice.  Maybe he'll think I was chopping onions . . . in the office.  Maybe I can say it was Chas who was crying.

I should blog about this.



Thanks again, everyone.  You are very kind and mean so much to me.

*sniffle*

Comments

[Suz Broughton]

Now I feel like a jerk. I am catching up with you and started at the beginning when I should have started at the end. What slump? Have to read on.
I'm glad you are all better and I can't tell you how many times the cops have caught me in a flood of tears, weeping into a Kleenex. But this is about you...
Suz
(PS You know I think you're brilliant, right?)

[Charlie Hills]

I don't know why I read this, "You are very kind and mean so much to me." like this, "You are very kind and so mean to me."

I just need to know if you tried the Cheez-Its at all.

[MommyTime]

I am so sorry that I've gotten behind in my blog reading and am catching up on your funk post just as you're posting the catharsis one. I've been in my own little world of work and etc. this last week. But I hope that things really are looking up for you a bit today. The post about your grandfather was lovely. Truly. Sending many hugs...

[San Diego Momma]

I will meet you in Funkytown.

Let's have a party.

[Meg]

One ringy dingy...
Two ringy dingies...
*snort*

Old enough to get the Laugh-In allusion,

--meg

[Rick's Cafe]

It's not like you live in the city where there is always some type of action going on.....it's dark in the country.

I'm probably sounding like your father, sorry.

[Kathi D]

Dang it, I hate when I miss all the excitement because I am having a Big Ugly Cry. It turns my funk into a snit.

[Bob Cleveland]

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Cherry Tree, Tree Tree Tree Tree?

"No, this is Douglass Fir, Fir Fir Fir Fir."

"Oh. Sorry, wrong lumber".

OH .. on a more germaine note, what with my Lupron treatments, I get to have those crying jags too. And I've even started reading Good Housekeeping (I think it's printed in a foreign language).

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

That police car was there to escort the Funk out of town. It appears to have been a successful departure. Glad you're not feeling funky anymore.

As I sit here in my bathrobe, when I am supposed to be at work (daughter is sick, but I probably still could have gone in - mother would have sat with her), all I can think about is hibernation. I don't want to leave the house, I am uninspired to write anything, and I hate my job.All I want to do is sleep.

Can you send that police officer due East? Thanks, I'll keep the light on for him.

[sher]

oh hang in there, hon. things will get better. you won't forget the sadness, maybe, but you'll figure out a coping mechanism. and every now and again, you'll have the big blubbery cry again. and again. and you'll be okay with it. promise.

[Mental P Mama]

I hate it when I have a cryus interruptus. Glad you are better. Just visualize July.