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: molu4.diaryland.com

2003-02-11 - 2:53 p.m.

Oh Otis, baby, sing to me. Love that man, love him love him LOVE HIM.

We all know I was in a terrible funk leading up to class, but I�m in that damned funk every week and I think it was less bad this week. I�m a rip-roaring gal. I think my 20 miles this weekend are what have made me so damn buoyant. I feel like running all around the neighborhood. I keep thinking I�m about to run into somebody great, somebody like old Martin who lives in New Mexico and who was never a great friend of mine but I miss him just the same, practically worse than I miss most anybody.

The sun has bleached the earth. I panicked for a moment at lunch, sitting out back with Bash, the sun was so bright it was hard to see anything at all and I thought and I knew, things are not what they seem. That made me all shivery.

Oh you know, you know, I am hyper and excited. This morning I bounded out of bed and then me and Bash sat on the arm of the couch looking out the front window. We looked at the robins and at the neighbor�s dogs and we talked for a long time about puppies and birds. We talked so long that when I looked at the time it was 7:45 and I have to be at work at 8 and I hadn�t even brushed my teeth. But it was fun. Like the morning after a slumber party when all your friends are still over and you�re not sick of them yet.

I�m having fun. That�s all I wanted to say. Now tell me, I mean tell me, that this song does not make you laugh, even when you can�t hear it. Tell me because is that's true I have to mark you off my list (what list?) straight away.

Tramp!
What you call me?
Tramp.
You didn't!
You don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats.
Well I tell you one dog-gone thing. It makes me feel good to know one thing. I know I'm a lover.
Matter of opinion.
That's all right, Mama was. Papa too. And I'm the only child. Lovin' is all I know to do.
You know what, Otis?
What?
You're country.
That's all right.
You straight from the Georgia woods.
That's good.
You know what? You wear overalls, and big old brogan shoes, and you need a haircut, Tramp.
Haircut? Woman, you foolin'...ooh...I'm a lover. Mama was. Grandmama, Papa too. Boogaloo. All that stuff. And I'm the only son-of-a-gun this side of the Sun.
Tramp!
You know what, Otis? I don't care what you say, you're still a tramp.
What?
That's right. You haven't even got a fat bankroll in your pocket. You probably haven't even got twenty-five cents.
I got six Cadillacs, five Lincolns, four Fords, six Mercuries, three T-Birds, Mustang, ooooooohhh...I'm a lover. Mama was. Papa too. I tell you one thing.
Well tell me.
I'm the only son-of-a-gun this side of the Sun.
You're a tramp, Otis.
No I'm not.
I don't care what you say, you're still a tramp.
What's wrong with that?
Look here. You ain't got no money.
I got everything.
You can't buy me all those minks and sables and all that stuff I want.
I can buy you minks, rats, frogs, squirrels, rabbits, ...anything you want, Woman.
Look, you can go out in the Georgia woods and find them, Baby.
Oh, you foolin'.
You're still a tramp.
That's all right.
You a tramp, Otis. You just a tramp.
That's all right.
You wear overalls. You need a haircut, Baby. Cut off some of that hair off your head. You think you a lover, huh?

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