Dialogue for Dessert

I took a dialogue class at Hugo House with Keri Healey, a wonderful writer and playwright, and here was my favorite writing prompt:

Character A wants to tell Character B that he/she is having an affair, but Character B already knows and wants to avoid the pain of being told.

Okay, I’ve lived through this scenario. 1) Character A is a whore. 2) Character B is a nancy. Just so we’re clear. Character A probably thought that cheating was the easy way out (been there!); Character B doesn’t want to start over because he wasn’t a good catch to begin with (done that!). Both of these people are assholes, though on very different levels. A is most likely an attention-loving nincompoop with a knack for flirting and fruity drinks – or worse, a narcissistic control freak who’s entitled to everything. B is probably a sensitive ponytail guy, or some kind of robot workaholic. Point being, she cheats for A Reason or A Fuck-ton of Reasons, and he’s too pansy-assed to deal. Go.

A: I’m having an affair.

B: An eclair?

A: I know you heard me.

B: Huh. Well I’m having an eclair.

A: This isn’t funny. You think everything is a joke.

B: And you think nothing is sacred. Exhibit A: you’re having an eclair. Do you know how many calories you’re consuming?

A: There are no eclairs.

B: So I need to go get some, is what you’re saying?

A: Can you take nothing seriously?

B: I take eclair-eating whores somewhat seriously.

A: What did you just say to me?

B: I said “Fred Astaire-heated floors.”

A: Oh my God, I hate you.

B: I’m sorry.

A: Why are you apologizing?

B: I must have done something; maybe I didn’t give you enough love or dessert.

A: I’m moving out.

B: What? But we’re having breakfast.

A: No, you’re having breakfast. I’m moving out.

B: Pick up some eclairs on your way home from work.

I generally like any dialogue that employs denial and deliciousness, all rolled into one.

The Perfect Storm

Is there someone out there for whom everything is going right? If so, raise your hand – someone will be along to take back that which is rightfully mine, and slay you in single-handed combat.

Convo: Shakespearean Love

Snotty: I love thee.

Esq: I love thee!

Snotty: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Esq: Sure.

Snotty: June 22nd.

Esq: Excellent.

Fade to Black

I’m not a huge fan of the genre, but Jay-Z knows how to write.

“This is the life I chose or rather the life that chose me.”

The Human Experience

Marriage is a vital social institution. The exclusive commitment of two individuals to each other nurtures love and mutual support. [Civil] marriage is at once a deeply personal commitment to another human being and a highly public celebration of the ideals of mutuality, companionship, intimacy, fidelity, and family. Because it fulfills yearnings for security, safe haven, and connection that express our common humanity, [civil] marriage is an esteemed institution and the decision whether and whom to marry is among life’s momentous acts of self-definition. It is undoubtedly for these concrete reasons, as well as for its intimately personal significance, that marriage has long been termed a ‘civil right.’ Without the right to choose to marry, one is excluded from the full range of human experience.

-2003 Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court decision that legalized same-sex marriage

And that’s that.

The Voice of This Generation, Of This Decade, Of Amie’s Party

Resurrected the old Kanye costume for Halloween.

Thought bubble: “Halloween, Ima let you finish, but Christmas is the best holiday of all time.”

Arrested Development

I’m a monthly contributor over at 30pov.com. Read about me getting arrested here. (No, this did not happen last week.)

Convo: Mommyblogging 101

Oren: Mom, are you a mommyblogger?

Me: What did I say about using that word around me?

Oren: It’s just –

Me: What. Did. I. Say?

Oren: Not to?

Me: NOT TO.

Oren: But what about when you write about me?

Me: I don’t want to get into logistics.

Oren: But you’re my mom and if you write about me –

Me: It’s complicated.

Oren: But –

Me: If you’re going to continue like this, you’ll need to talk with my lawyer.

Oren: Then lemme talk to Justin.

Me: He’s busy. He died. He fell off a cliff.

Oren: You’re the weirdest mom I know.

Me: YOU’RE the weirdest mom I know.

Oren: I’m hanging up now.

Me: No, I’M hanging up now!

Oren: Love you.

Me: Love you.

Trojan Man

Sometimes there are people who come into our lives, and it’s clear their purpose is to annoy, challenge, or teach you something – sometimes all three. More often than not, they get under your skin quickly, merrily choo-chooing their way through your internal organs like a terminally-diseased freight train. They push all of your buttons – ones you didn’t even know existed – and then they get inside your frontal lobe for an uninvited looky-loo, giving you no other choice but to kill them while they sleep.

Maybe you don’t know who these people are in your life yet; maybe you’re unwilling to admit it. But usually, the people who tax you the most, the ones who Take but never Give – the folks who drive you insane, or bring chaos to your life, the ones who are so self-driven that YOU seem to exist solely for THEM – that jerk at the bank, your mother-in-law, those bitchy PTA moms, a condescending boss: those are your teachers. They’re the kind of teachers you can and will reluctantly learn from whether you want to or not. And believe me, they’re everywhere. Most notably if you have partners, children, friends, family, neighbors, exes, pets, or co-workers. If there’s no one like that in your life, maybe check your pulse – are you still breathing?

Big Love

Me: I’m glad you don’t like gazelles since you’re dating a big brown bear.
Esq: I would gladly watch you devour a gazelle, my sweet.