Skip to main content

water torture


Well: so much time spent screaming things from the inside out and never, ever, making a sound. Take the swimming pool, for example. The stalls in the family change room are super fantastic for all sorts of despair, these five-foot squares of charmless concrete real estate where your comfort and dignity are heavily discounted, all of this going back and forth to stuffed lockers and changing your clothes while hopping on one foot and taking these gruesomely half-hearted showers and that chlorine tang in your nostrils and the floors oozing with some miasma of discarded body water and spit. Just far, far too much nudity from everyone involved. I'm sorry, was that your ass in my face or my face in your ass? The place is surround sound, which is just excellent for the many decibels of screaming and crying children in all the stalls around you. Oona farting wetly in the background. And there I was, about to oh-so-gingerly pick up some seeping, filthy towels off the floor when C suddenly seized them like two pigs who'd escaped their pen, balled them up and stuffed them in a bag and then didn't wash her hands. Can a person vomit and moan at the same time? I did, at least within the confines of my grimacing consciousness. "Would you like to share a smoothie on the way out?" she asked. "Of course I would," I said.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, despite her lack of hygiene, C has got herself published on an academic level. Congratulations, C! This is how she describes it:
I wrote an article for a peer-reviewed journal, Business Communication Quarterly (SAGE), and after making changes as per the reviewers, it has been accepted for publication.

It is for a section called “Innovative Assignments” and it is about informational interviews and interpersonal communications skills.

I don’t know the publication date yet.

Woo-hoo!

Comments

  1. Stop making me laugh.

    As for my publishing announcement, you forgot to mention that when I wrote to a colleague to tell him about it, I closed my email with "In your face, Brennan!"

    It's all about professionalism in my little world.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous2:29 pm

    Yuck! That's exactly how I see the family changing rooms too...that's why I've never been there. Congratulations to your lovely wife. I must comment as well about the veggie posting below, and remark that eating veggies is a good thing.

    ReplyDelete
  3. congratulations, c! and i love this post.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the indisputable weight of the ocean

People are always telling me that my work is too dark. So I've put up this sunnier story, but even it has a shadow, as its original publisher – a fine Atlantic Canadian literary magazine called the Gaspereau Review – is no longer in business. ---------------- It was a simple enough thing and that thing was simply this: Edmund Kelley was a gentleman. Of course his mom called him her 'little gentleman', as in 'Oh Edmund, you are my perfect little gentleman,' which did seem to hold to a certain logic that these type of things often follow, considering her affection for him and the fact that he was, after all, only ten years old. Still, Edmund himself was not particularly fond of the diminutive aspect of that title. Gentleman was enough; gentleman summed up the whole thing rather nicely, thank you. He was definitely a more refined version of your average child. He lived in a state of perpetual Sunday m

Oona Balloona (doesn't care about new tables)

Well, it's Friday, and since I'm pretty depleted in the chit-chat department, I might as well put up some pictures of Ol' Giggles At Ghosts before Grandma starts sending me hate mail. Man, what a goofball. At this rate it's going to be, like, eighteen years before she has gainful employment and moves out of the house. I mean, come on . * * * * * C is especially crazy and frantic today. About two months ago she decided that she no longer liked our dining room table (take that, dining room table! no more BFF for you!). Since then she's switched the dining room and kitchen table (and all the rest of the furniture in the house -- about thirty times, but that's another story) as a provisional solution while she scoured area stores for an upgrade. And she thought she had found one, on Wednesday, at JYSK ( Whatever , I said). But when she ordered it, JYSK called back to say that they were really low on stock, and that the stock they did have was damaged, and

some paintings to keep you company

  at the stations of seeing ; mixed media on cradled wood panel, 24 x 30 inches.   $350 local.     At the Stations of Seeing I expected something on the level of poetry moving the machinery within but instead it was wreckage and difficult instructions Recursive Procedures for Life Structures and that sort of thing. IF—THEN—ELSE where the option is optional CASE, which is multi-situational DO—WHILE the function is zero BREAK and LOOP again and again until failure. please CALL, if you can, or while you are still missed. . . . I went away for awhile, for various reasons, and now I am starting to come back. Where I finally end up is anyone's guess, but one of the stations on the path of that return is a willingness to sell my art again; this post is about just one of the larger paintings I currently have for sale for clients and customers in the Kingston area. A good place to start. The prices for these works are lower because the transaction is personal, easier — come by my stud