Queue me, or not queue me February 18, 1997 (and more)
I missed you all in mass last Wednesday -- Mardi Gras came and went -- I am still "gras" -- the obscure black smudges on everyone's forehead, reminded me that it was time to give up something unholy...so I spent most of the day cleaning out the liquor cabinet and the back closets. While cleaning I found coupons for flights!
All of a sudden, I am sitting here at 37,000 feet and looking down at Greenland. Greenland is a country that looks, remarkably, like my cookies-n-cream-with-a-splash-of-Amaretto sundae that I am swirling around in first class. Is that Greenland? Or is that Canada? Oh who the heck cares -- where is my refill? Thank goodness I did not give up Amaretto for the lent.
So, what am I doing here? Well, things in the trailerpark were just not going well. Brianna and Karla moved to Dallas and this just set me into a deep spin. No amount of hamburger helper or tequila could help lighten my mood. I tried the old "bananas and condensed milk" trick -- nothing! Even Chipperlean has deserted me. I can hear her bug zapper from my back canopy but she is off snow boarding again. My social life went into full speed ahead mode and I was certainly tired of attending one black tie event after another. There are just so many accessories that one can add to that "little black dress" before someone catches on and comments. Trudes, what is your secret?
Anywho, I realized that (if I rushed) I could catch Pookie in London (on her way to Australia -- apparently their Mardi Gras has nothing to do with the 40 days and nights that our Lord suffered in the desert before he returned to die for all of our sins -- I digress). Alana is going back too. Pray for them, for they are whores.
I had that list of things to get for Rhonda (a pair of Doc Martins and a Hello magazine), so I thought that it would be a good time to head off to London again. Braving a possible strike by my friends with "Something Special in the Air" (smile), I pulled my matching platinum card and wig out of the closet, gave a quick spritz of Jovan Musk, and was on the way to the airport!
These trips are always quite a blur but I do recall a lovely evening in Soho with Pookie, two fine Italian gents, Gerrardo and Diego, and a handsome dentist in some sort of Organ Society. (I am not sure what that means, the noise and Campari were both getting to me). Hmmm, A dentist in London, I wonder what he does for a living?
In any case, I am back, and my laundry is clean...so I though that I would say hi. I plan to see you all at the homeowners meeting! We need to discuss plans for the upcoming year!
Oh, soon your local Trailer Sister will be listed in the local social registry..."Who is this "Verlene"?", they will all titter before the mint juleps and tobacco smoke sends them into their evening stupor. Bless them, for in their pompous ways they fail to realize their condition. Because you are a decorator (or married to one) does not make you "all that". I know of your trailer roots (and your natural hair color too!)! Because you are a congressman do not try and impress me, I know that you happen to like a few extra people around your House and Home. When you have entertained a Persian Prince with your disappearing champagne bottle trick, then come and talk to me about "fabulous". (True story, will tell you at some much later [drunker] date).
See I am much better! And I am going to try and eat fish on Friday! Ugh!