Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the pig mask and all of its possibilities, even beyond its role in the photo shoot. I kept imagining myself driving around town with it over my head, and staring out the window at people during red light downtime. I was laughing so hard in bed last night that it was disturbing Henry.
“Just go downstairs and buy it now, please! So I can finally get some sleep.”
So this morning, I bought it. I even wrote myself a gift note for it.
I think I managed to offend Eleanore at work Friday night. I was telling my boss Kim about the Christmas tree I’ve wanted to fashion ever since I was a spry sixteen-year-old.
“And then I’d take extra arms and legs and solder them to the mannequin, you know — for boughs.”
Kim’s eyes widened, and she asked me if I’d be making my own ornaments too. Eleanore was in the kitchen for this part, but she returned just as I was explaining what Homies are, and how I wanted to make dioramic ornaments using them.
Realizing that Homies are slightly racial and that perhaps Eleanore was getting annoyed, I blurted out, “But they’re not all black! There are Mexican ones, too!”
Crickets. The slight bubble-popping sound of Eleanore’s blood boiling.
Always spitting out one sentence too many, I finished digging my grave by saying that I wanted to make a crack house ornament and have some of the Homies loitering outside of it.
“Damn, girl. You’re taking this too far, now!” Eleanore groaned. “Don’t you be teachin’ my baby about no crack house!”
Then Kim and Eleanore tried to come up with a word to describe me. Eleanore muttered, “We’d need a thesaurus for that.” I laughed. Many appropriate words popped into my head, like: sweetheart, genius, loveable, adorable, precious.
I spent most of the night searching for cheap mannequins online. Every time Kim turned around, she would catch a glimpse of a variety of eerie plastic models on my screen and shudder. “Would you stop looking at those! They’re freaking me out.”
I’m going to decorate my (future) Christmas tree while wearing my pig mask.
: Eleanore calls Chooch and everyone else’s children “her babies.”
I would say eccentric is the best one, and that’s a word to wear proudly =D
You’re fast approaching the title of “artist” as well IMO.
Aw, you’re a sweetheart, Twyla! Thank you:)
Yay, it’s finally saving my user info on here! It wasn’t before.
I think your coworkers are too easily disturbed.
Those mannequins were pretty fucked up, though.
dude- that mask seriously is TOO creepy.
your gift card is awesome though.
i’m the best homie… and i’m MEXICAN.
It took me until TODAY to understand what you meant by gift card.
… i confuse myself sometimes. so i understand.
i still mantain that i can’t hang with you while you adorn this mask.