Hand Writing VII

Facial--a very female thing to do. Specifically, my mother. She brought me along and I lay on a short bed with special lumps in it and got lotion’d and mint’d and rose-water’d to within an inch of my life, which is a silly expression. After an hour we wobbled out, glowing slightly and smelling like an explosion in an aromatherapy shop.

You’re too young to know you’re a lemon--there’s a few moments right after I wake up when the most random, nonsensical phrases flash through my mind, and I never remember them because in that half-awake state “idiots incarnate” doesn’t make any less sense than “pick up the milk on the way out, will you, dear?” This was the only one I could recall to write down.

SNAFU--Small Ninjas Always Fuck Utensils, of course. This is one of the few things I can remember from my TDI Quotes Wall, which has sadly gone AWOL.

Bostonians--people from Boston. Also called Bostonites. Those of you from Walforf: you are Waldofians. We MMU people are MMUitrons or possibly MMUui.

Smiting--also from TDI. This wasn’t on my Quotes Wall; I found it in an annoyingly wide-ruled notebook. The teacher had left the class I was observing for a moment and put me in charge. “What’re you gonna do if we don’t behave?” one enterprising child asked as soon as the door swung shut.

“I have special Leadershipper powers they gave us on Sunday. I can smite you.”

“Ooh! Smite me!” “Smite me!” “Smite him.”

“No, I don’t want to smite anyone.”

“Prove you can smite us.”

“Only if you’re not behaving.”

“I’m not! Smite me.”

The teacher walked back in, drying her hands. The first child pointed at me and complained, loudly, “She’s smiting us!”