I’m taking a writing class. This might lead some people to believe that this means I’m now “writing!”……ummmm, no. My people, the people who know me and live in awe of my superhuman ability to procrastinate and evade all that isn’t, for lack of a better word, “easy”, know better. I’m soooooooooo not writing. It’s not even passive not-writing at this point. Now I’m intentionally not-writing. Why? Well for one thing, and this will be covered in its very own blog post, I suffer from “demand resistance”. Or, as I like to call it, my inner “fuck you”. Illustration: Oh, YOU think I SHOULD do [insert the thing I’m supposed to be doing] and you’re a little bit JUDGY (is that a word?) about it……well, even though I am fully aware that I should be doing [the thing I’m supposed to be doing] and, not only that, I know I would be happier/healthier/etc. if I would just DO THE THING already, I’m NOT going to do it. In other words, fuck you. [insert fake smile]. The other thing keeping me from writing is good old f-e-a-r, but I don’t even have to get to that issue as long as my inner “fuck you” is alive and well.
Anyway. The assignment that I’m not-writing this week is to write some dialogue. I’m fairly positive that the instructor intended for us to write about two or more actual people having a conversation, but, I thought it would be more interesting to write about the conversation between the chicks in my head – Kim, kimmy, and Kimberly Ann – right after they found out about this assignment. Enjoy:
Kim: Shit. Did she seriously just tell us to write dialogue?
kimmy: (languishing on the purple velvet chaise smiling up at the scantily clad servant boy feeding her grapes) How fun! let’s write something naughty…..”kim” he murmured, as he trailed his finger down her….”
Kimberly Ann: (turning her mind’s eye towards kimmy and, slowly, rolling it) Oh, here we go …… we are absolutely NOT writing anything naughty — are we romance writers now? Why do you always have to go there? (turning towards Kim now) I’m very uncomfortable with her (pointing directly at kimmy) boundaries.
kimmy: (still smiling up at servant boy) You’re SUCH a bitch.
Kimberly Ann: (continuing to look at Kim with an earnest expression and using a very reasonable voice) We can’t write dialogue. We don’t even know what it is! We need to find some books that will tell us how to write dialogue before we can even begin to think about complying with this crazy instructor’s wishes. Furthermore, we will NOT hand in anything that is less than perfect. Which means, as you know, we should probably just not-write it. Learn about it, YES! Write about it? Noooooo. (shaking head)
Kim: (hits forehead with right hand and then assumes the “hands on the hips” stance) WTF? Am I tri-polar now? Just skipped right over the bi-polar thing…”too easy”….and went straight into something resembling multiple personality disorder?? This is fucking ridiculous….. WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?? (turning to admire the servant boy) and where the fuck did HE come from? Is he even old enough to be here? We have a teen-age son people…..!
Kimberly Ann: (looking around to see if anyone noticed the f-bomb and adjusting her pantyhose….) DON’T CUSS! It’s not professional and, further, it is beneath us. If you keep cussing AND writing about cussing or cuss-writing or whatever, people are not going to talk to you or read your blog! As for him (gesturing dismissively at servant boy) you ladies are on your own, I hereby disclaim any responsibility for his presence here. That being said, I strongly advise checking his i.d.
kimmy: (reluctantly sitting up and eyeing Kim) I don’t give a shit if you cuss, but honey do NOT act like you don’t know who we are…..that is just rude….
do you want a grape? (sly smile)
Kim: (head in hands) Totally.
Kimberly Ann: (turning to walk away) Don’t EVEN think I don’t know that we just wrote some pseudo-dialogue. I’m a lot of things, but I am not stupid.
p.s. turns out the servant boy was at least 35.