When I wake up in my make-up, it’s too early for that dress.

I shall begin with this, Dear Reader, which is basically the story of my life. This weekend, I was flipping through Moby Dick for poetic inspiration (a shout-out to Roy, for reminding me that Moby Dick is and always will be one of the Most Fabulous Books in the Entire Universe to me), for I firmly believe that if one cannot find inspiration (or desperation, ha ha) in Moby Dick, one will never find inspiration anywhere for the entirety of one’s life, and if one cannot find inspiration in Moby Dick, one may as well just crawl under a rock and sleep for the next hundred decades.

So I was flipping through Moby Dick, and I come to a passage that I’d underlined the last time I’d read Moby Dick. The passage is as follows: All men live enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life. I got so excited when I read this passage. I read it again. And again. Then I read it aloud to the friend who was with me. I read it aloud, and then I exclaim, “Oh my [expletive!] god! Can you [expletive!] believe this?! Holy [expletive!] [expletive!]! This is, like, the truest [expletive!] statement I have ever [expletive!] read. Holy [expletive!] [expletive!].” My friend, awesome though he may be, gives me a blank stare. I continue to try: “Is that not the best [expletive!] thing you’ve ever [expletive!] heard?!” Still: the blank stare.

Ah, Dear Reader. The story of my life. But what else can be expected, really? For I, like my dearest, most wondrous Vivienne, got answers to most of life’s questions from Judy Blume — but my book of reference was Just As Long As We’re Together (for which I — and I cannot believe I am admitting this — wrote a song about, and the song can be sung to the tune of Bon Jovi’s “I’ll Be There for You”). And the answers I could not get from reading Judy Blume were gotten from watching Madonna’s “Express Yourself” video. (Question to Viv: Should we nominate Judy Blume and Madonna for the Most Ultimate Diamond Heart Necklace Award?)

Consider the Subtleness of the Sea

Consider the subtleness of the sea [betches, b/c rest-of-poem is gone!]

Because It’s Terrible, I Mean, It’s Hairible, I Mean, It’s Horrible!!!

I am always basking in the glorious glow of The Letter People. People are always telling me, there never was a program called The Letter People! You are a liar! A liar, I say! Then YouTube appeared and got in ur copyrites, and now I can prove that the glorious glow of The Letter People is not an imagined one. Observe the legend of Mr. H, whose theme song I sing most mornings upon seeing my own hair in the mirror:

After the Dress He Unzipped Is Zippered Safely Back into Its Bag

Across the sun-sheered lake

stuff happened.