Tuesday, August 31, 2010

A little creative humor for the day provided by Sloane Crosley

I just got done reading a superficially entertaining book entitled "I was told there'd be cake" essays by Sloane Crosley. I liked her creative way of describing situations, and the way she says what sometimes rolls through my mind unable to get out. So here is a few examples of her writings and will leave you with no need to pick up the book and read the whole thing as I have just done. I like the way she writes, not always what she writes about.

I was taught that candles were like house cats-- domesticated versions of something wild and dangerous. There's no way to know how much of that killer instinct lurks in the darkness. I used to think the house-burning paranoia was the result of some upper-middle-class fear regarding the potential destruction of a half-million-dollar Westchester house the size of a matchbox. Then I realized the fear stemmed from something far less complex: we're not used to fire. Candles are a staple of Judaic existence, like many suburban residents before us, we're pretty bad Jews. (Riverhead books, 2008, p. 11)
Some people do yoga in the morning; Ursala gave looks so stern I believe she burned calories creating them. When had I become no better than a haughty vegan Anglophile? It was all so unfair; I had never even read David Foster Wallace. I was a good egg, but I guess you can't make a omelet without breaking a few. (p.36)
In order to get married these days, God isn't witness enough. You have to have someone present who helped find your retainer after a sleepover. Although some overlap is permitted, the women you see each week are almost never the same set of women lined up behind you at the alter. Your current friends are wildcards and while they may be invited, they are not to be tortured with envelope licking. Marriage is about the permanence of one's future and it can't proceed without a well-earned past of trick-or-treating and bloody ten-speed accidents. (147,48)
The setting for this next one is a pre-wedding get-together-- where she had been guilted into the wedding party by someone she hadn't spoken to in high school-- and before matrimony they had decided to change their last names to Universe in order to be Mr. and Mrs. Universe.
I laughed very hard. Wine shot up into my nose, which I decided was God's way of telling me it was time to switch to hard alcohol. It quickly became apparent that I was alone in my amusement when all the women stopped chattering and looked at me like bunny rabbits. (163)
I know I've found myself in similar situations at some of these all girl get-togethers.

3 comments:

Esther said...

I love the last one!:)

Lydia said...

I thought u would appreciate that as well ;)

Katy said...

At least at "Sister's Night" wine was shooting out of all of our noses!;)