Measured Extravagance

2001-05-19 - 12:11 a.m.

I'm procrastinating with a vengeance. Trust a favorite villainess to help out:

Mechaieh, your inner rock star is Sade.

Ooooh lady, you've got it going on. The rock star part of you is all Sade. Sleek, sexy, and untouchable, you are the ultimate smooth operator. People tune in to you whenever they want to unwind and get into that sexy mood. You know how to keep cool and keep a low profile. And you're never one to unveil your mystique by making too many appearances. By staying true to your talent and staying out of the spotlight, you've become as rare and welcome as love's first blush at sunset. The fans are totally fascinated, so go ahead and use it. Strut your inner Sade.

Untouchable, hm? Guess I don't need to go around tapping mirrors. After receiving it through one of his e-lists, the BYM asked me to explain the phrase "visually raped," to which I replied "overwrought description of someone getting their jollies by looking at you without your permission - which is indeed an invasion of privacy in many instances, as well as just plain tacky. But 'rape'? *snort*"

[For what it's worth, I can't stand it when people trivialize the word "nazi," either. Or when they modify almost any adjective with "most" or "est" in tandem with "in my life" - unless they really mean it, but how often is that? Then there's my allergy to hysteria, which extends to rhetorical overkill... ("The British critic John Carey is not alone in disliking the tendency of both Lowell and Plath to appropriate historical tragedies 'as if they were upsets in their own little psyches.'" - Joel Connaroe, Eight American Poets. Hear, hear! (even though I do like some of Lowell and Plath's other histrionics...)]

Later in the day, the BYM made a point of blatantly ogling me. When I raised my eyebrows back at him (remember, we've been married for almost seven years), he smirked: "Just doing my bit of visual rape."

Mechaieh: "Can't be - it's consensual."

BYM: "I didn't ask permission and you didn't give it."

Mechaieh: "It's implicit. And they can't get you for statutory, either."

BYM: "'Statutory visual rape.' Hmm."

Pause. Then his eyes gleamed...and he pointedly transferred his stare to the puppy.

Mechaieh (in spite of herself): "HEY!"

Lots of firefighting at work today - I was on the horn within two minutes of parking my car, and still cursing slow modems and wonky servers at 5:15 p.m. But lots of good things, too:

  • Next month's business trips are now confirmed.

  • The day started out with latkes and coffee and chitchat about neighborhood and state politics at Noshville.

  • I finally stopped by the new organic market that just opened in our neighborhood, and brought home three basil plants in addition to the spinach, strawberries and tomatoes. (I say "finally" because the BYM stopped by there earlier this week and subsequently kept asking me if I'd gotten myself over there yet.)

  • The Amherst Review (volume 29), Box 2172, Amherst College, Amherst, MA, 01002-5000. US$6. My poem's on pages 53-54. I haven't yet perused the other texts, but there's a really compelling self-portrait by Nadya Direkova on the back cover - the issue is nicely designed and I'm quite pleased to be included in it.

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