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Thursday, January 21, 2016

What's That You Say? You Need Another Post About Winter?

The grayness…

I look around, note the frozen hipsters on the bus (once their skin goes black, there’s nothing to do but mash them up and make bread with them).

I bemoan the cuts on my hands where I’ve carelessly run their dry knuckles against the hard-edged corners of the month of January.

I absentmindedly count the layers of clothing I am wearing (fully 8 pieces more than in, say, August).

And I sigh.

Winter has its boot on the back of my neck. 

I think back, fondly, to summer.  My memories have developed the soft-focus affect of a dream, just moments after waking.  June.  July.  I don’t remember wearing shoes then.  And I recall stepping outside – now get this! – without putting on a hat

Who goes outside without wearing a hat?

From the deepest, most humid parts of my brain, the squat bald man in my head slides his pudgy, dimpled hands against each other gleefully.  The smell of smoke accompanies him.

Where did he get those cigarettes?

I close my eyes.  I hate when he smokes in there.

“Why don’t you,” he says, “call in sick a couple days?”  He takes a drag of his Pall Mall, blows the hit toward my left ear.  “We’ll get drunk,” he says, “and rub our dry little hands over our tubby little middles, see what shakes loose.”

As if to illustrate, he runs his hands over his own belly.  His cigarette, badly in need of ashing, dangles from his lips.

I turn away. 

“Come on,” he says.  “We’ll do Stupid Human Tricks.”  He pulls his tee-shirt up – the one that says “I’m Not a Doctor, But I’ll Take a Look” – pats his head with one hand, rubs his gut with the other.

I sigh.

The ash from his cigarette falls, wiping out most of second grade.

I blink slowly.  I didn’t need those memories, anyway.

The squat, bald man in my head takes another pull from his cigarette – “squares”, he calls them – and closes his left eye, peers at me with the right.  “So what’re you going to do about it?”

I sigh again, something I’m thinking of taking up competitively.  “I have a sick day planned for March,” I say.

The squat, bald man in my head spits into my memories of the seventh grade Sadie Hawkins dance.  “You’ve planned,” he says, horrified, “a sick –“

He can’t finish.

“I’m going to make meatballs this weekend,” I offer, feebly.  “That’s kinda fun…”  The word “fun” is barely out of my mouth before it plops, sullenly and without pretense, to the floor.

The squat, bald man in my head can take no more, and from somewhere far to the back, near the id but really not that far from the escalator, I hear a door open.

“OK,” he shouts, “I can’t hang out here listening to this kind of drivel.  If you need me, I’ll be back here, setting fire to stuff.”

And the door slams shut. 

January.

16 comments:

Should Fish More said...

I understand. i have two feet of snow in the front yard, the sidewalk is more like a canyon between white cliffs. When it gets in the twenties people are frolicking outside.
Here though people don't seem either upset or tending to focus on it, it just 'is'. Ours starts in October, and usually lasts until June. I've seen snow on the 22nd of June.
I do recommend trips to warmer climes, and to wit I'm heading to LA tomorrow.

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari om
Baldy back to pester ya huh? Lemme at him...lemme at him... no wait...building a fire out back...why not join him?!!! YAM xx

Sioux Roslawski said...

That guy is a hoot! However, I'm glad you didn't listen to him...

fishducky said...

Have you ever considered moving to the tropics?

joeh said...

"The ash from his cigarette falls, wiping out most of second grade."

This made me laugh, and I'm pretty sure I it will wake up at 3 am and make me laugh again. Mrs. C is going to think I'm nuts.

Buttons Thoughts said...

Fishducy and joeh said what I was going too:) You always make me laugh. Keep warm yeah good luck with that one. Hug B

jenny_o said...

Yeah, there is no hope in January. It's almost over, though, and February is a short, pudgy month (not unlike the little man in your head) filled with chocolate everything, and March - well, March can be tricky, but at least we're getting close to the barn. And then it will be April. Lovely April, a finicky, wavering, two-faced month, but at least there's HOPE ...

Connie said...

"there’s nothing to do but mash them up and make bread with them"

That line made me laugh out loud. January is a dreary month, I absolutely agree. You just made mine a little cheerier with this post, though. :) Thanks for the smiles.

Delores said...

"Settin' fire to stuff." Now THAT should warm things up.

Jono said...

Might get up to freezing this weekend. Time to star dressing for spring.

Watson said...

fun plopping sullenly to the floor...now that is sad. What are you serving with those meatballs btw?

My mother always smoked Pall Malls. She could iron with two inches of ash on the end of the cigarette. She wasn't bald but she still has things to say from within my skull...could they be related?

Starting Over, Accepting Changes - Maybe said...

Winter makes us crazy. May I suggest you think about Channing Tatum. It is so much more pleasant than a squat bald man. Fantasy should be better than real life.

Catalyst said...

I remember January. It was exactly like that.

Now it's 60 degrees in the Central Arizona highlands and I love it.

Sorry.

River said...

I guess January is a little rough over there huh?

Nancy/BLissed-Out Grandma said...

Omigawd. This January bleak-and-below-zero snap has gotten me down, too. But look what you've gone and done...this post is brilliant overall, AND has at least six totally fabulous lines that make people (a) laugh or (b) think "why don't I ever come up with a great line like that?" Or both. Pearl, you are a wonder. Long may you wave.

Launna said...

I was walking home from the hairdresser yesterday, fondly remembering the clear dry pavement I had walked on just 6-8 weeks ago.. I'm looking forward to seeing it again soon... and with a lot less layers of clothing... (we have something to hope for xox)