floey's private diary - part 1
Thursday, April 3 7:20 p.m.
I have a gigantic honking pimple boiling up on my chin. It’s definitely
stress-related. I think I’ll go soak my head in zit cream and take a
relaxing bath with some of Ma’s scented oils.
Saturday, April 5 5:15 p.m.
I’m sitting at the back of a wedding store called I Do! I Do! waiting for Lillian to pick a dress,
which is kind of like waiting for an acorn to turn into a tree. We have
been here four hours and twenty-three minutes. The store has a whole
showroom jam packed with wedding gowns and Lillian seems determined to try every
one three or four times each. Ma, ever the trooper, is still speaking
calmly and making supportive comments, but her face is showing signs of
desperation—I believe she’s starting to lose her grip. Meanwhile I’m
still back here waiting.
I spent the last fifteen minutes in front of a
mirror counting the taste buds on my tongue.
Sunday, April 20 11:45 a.m.
This morning Lillian announced that she wants to get married underwater.
Apparently she read about somebody who did that who now says being at the
bottom of a swimming pool ‘elevated the emotional experience’ and gave the
marriage a ‘primal beginning unlike anything any air-based ceremony could
have.’
Ma asked if she was serious, but Lillian insists she is. Plus, she keeps
pointing out, it solves the wedding dress problem. She’ll just wear the
white bikini she bought last month. She’s calling around for scuba diving
lessons at this very moment.
Despite what Azra says, I honestly believe my sister is certifiably insane.
Monday, April 28 7:45 p.m.
Spent the afternoon working at the photo studio with Gary and Wen. Gary
kept dropping subtle questions about how Ma feels about him, and about
how she feels about raising Lillian and me by herself--like it isn’t
already obvious that he’s got the hots for her. Poor Gary. If he wasn’t
such a sweet guy, I’d tell him to forget it—he has about as much chance
with Ma as I have with Prince William. (Come to think of it, I read that
Prince William, unlike Ma, is at least dating people--so I guess that gives
me a leg up.)
Wen just called. He says there’s some punk-jazz combo called Razor Slash
Bee Bop playing near RISD this Saturday and would I like to go with him.
I played it coy, like I had to check because my schedule may be full,
but inside I was doing handstands. Finally, a romantic afternoon
alone, just the two of us! Saturday might be the day where Wen finally
admits that he likes me, and that he already thinks of me as his girlfriend.
And about time, too! Then the next time I refer to Wen as my boyfriend in
front of Ma and Lillian, I won’t actually be stretching the truth.
Somebody give the boy smelling salts! Wake up and smell the obvious!