Monday, June 16, 2008

The Terror! -OR- Parallel universe, here I come.

I don't know how she did it. I've tried to trace the steps, but to no avail. But people, understand. The unimaginable has happened.


Seriously. For real. No joke. And she read them. And I can't figure out exactly which posts she read, or off of which blogs, or how she found them. I got this telephone message from her telling me all about it. And then I called her, and verified this awful, awful truth.

And you wanna hear the best part?

She thinks they're hilarious and wonderful and amazing. She thinks I should submit my writing to magazines, especially the ones about marriage and the wedding. And best of all, she thinks that I'm right on point when I refer to her as the rationalizing enabler. And she knows I'm not kidding. She said, "yeah, because that's what I do."

Um, like, what?

Ok. Obviously something from Planet Bizarro is happening here. So here's what I'm thinking. Remember that whole parallel universe theory I had going yesterday? Well I think perhaps I had it a little screwed up. Given this afternoon's phone call, I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, by re-entering the legal field I have inadvertently created a tear in the very fabric of the space-time continuum, allowing realities from an alternate universe to leak through and play out here within our own realm. Ya think? It strikes me as the most likely explanation.

What other rationale is there really? That my mother has gained some perspective and humility? That she has grown up into the ability to selflessly asses my words not as a judgment of their life but as a discussion of mine? That maybe she was always this person but I needed to be thirty years old to be able to interact with her on this level, because engaged thirty-year-olds are allowed to say and think and feel things that angry nineteen-year-olds aren't? That she actually sees talent in my writing, and enjoys reading it? Yeah, right. I'm sticking with the parallel universe thing, all the way. After all, I did receive the phone call just as I was leaving the office for the very first time. Coincidence? I think not.

And you know what else? That's a universal double that I can get down with. It's no Homer-fantasy-super-rich-raining-donuts-from-the-sky, but still, it's an improvement and I'll take it. And who knows, maybe now that she's such a darn big fan of my writing and wants me to write for wedding magazines, she'll be dying simply dying to dump oodles of money on me so that I can go to school for journalism. Assuming that I get into school, that is. Little does she know, of course, that I'd much rather go write for Adbusters than for any wedding magazine, unless in this wonderland there happens to be a magazine about nothing but vegan weddings... Hey! I'm living in the supertwin universe - that means I'm allowed to dream, you naysaying snitches in the back! Yeah, that's right, I heard you, you mumbly such-and-so-forths.

Ohh, but here's the question: what do you think my magical duplicity portal is dependent on? If I quit this job at this law firm, will the rift heal itself? Will I once again be relegated to normal old, single universe reality? Hmm. We can't be having that. Maybe I can keep it open if I always wear blue shoes on Tuesdays, or perhaps if I greet every tree I see with a kind how-do-you-do and by calling it Alfred. (Though that second one would be rather time consuming. Even in New York, there are a lot of trees.)

Maybe I'll just have to keep the job; it sure does seem to involve a lot of sitting in a little box, answering a phone. It certainly isn't riveting, but it really isn't much of anything, which I think is alright. And it gives a nice schedule to my day, I think. By starting it off getting me out of bed and making me walk and reminding me of why I don't want to work in an office, and then giving me enough time in the afternoon for my own pursuits... you know, like writing blog posts.

* * * * *

I just ran out to get Jonathan a six-pack, and a psychic stopped me in the middle of the street to tell me that I should call her for a reading. If that's not proof of universe parallel conjoined supertwinism, I don't know what is.

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