Sinister: "ooooh, 'greensleeves' rocks. tell us some more hits, ann. please."

[Kirsten Kenyon]

  something strange is happening...i finally got to unpacking a bit 
last night.  about time, too...five months.  i found some good stuff 
i'd forgotten i had.  a jar of latex, some more paper cement, an 
elvis magnet....elvis is now on the refrigerator door, dancing 
scandalously under my cousin jenna's senior portrait.  so yes, elvis 
in a box.
   and then..."a century of elvis" somewhere...at someone's house.  
or in my car.  or the coffee shop, i can't remember.    
   so i started thinking, trying to think of all of the elvises i've 
met. there was one...i met him in an elevator at a hotel. someone was 
getting married...someone i sort of knew.  i was about eight years 
old and wearing my best.  running up to the hotel room for one thing 
or another, i found myself in an elevator with elvis.  he asked me 
where the wedding was, and i stared wide-eyed and told him what i 
knew.  then i got off on the wrong floor and ran back to the 
reception.  i'd just met elvis and i'd given him directions, and he 
would be along any minute.  i whispered it to rachel and we giggled 
nervously, waiting for everyone to explode with excitement when elvis 
walked through the door.  but it never happened.  well, elvis did 
walk through the door. the wrong wedding.  they sent him away...i 
could have cried.  elvis hated me, i was sure of it.  
   i woke up this morning to "the elvis hour" on some college radio 
station.  i sat up quickly and hit my head.  and then i fell back 
down for a minute and i think i'm getting a bump now.
   i couldn't find sophie yesterday.  sophie is my puppy.  well, i 
say she's mine, and it's only a small fib.  i'd been running around 
looking for her for quite some time when the telephone rang and i'm 
sorry if i was stupid on the phone, i was sort of...frantic.  i was 
walking around the house saying "sophia maria" and making those lame 
kissy sounds people often make at cats.  i used to laugh at people 
who made kissy sounds at their pets, but i'd only had goldfish and 
two small lizards.  the lizards belonged to my brother, and he'd 
found them somewhere and they only lasted about a month and we were 
very sad when they died and buried them in a shoebox in the yard.  
    some time later, the boy next door asked if he might dig them up 
for a science project.  we'd all sort of forgotten...  we said okay, 
in the name of education, and he dug them up and put them in the sun 
to bleach their little bones and i didn't really want to look at 
them, but i did.  tiny white skulls.  
   my high-school painting teacher was obsessed with georgia 
o'keefe.  i never much cared for her work, but she was a fabulously 
sassy old lady. and quite beautiful, really. like a nice piece of 
driftwood.  oh, why....okay.  you know what?  i don't like georgia 
o'keefe at all. she painted big raunchy flowers and nasty cow 
skulls.  and she might have painted some nice things too but i've 
forgotten them.  georgia o'keefe is all flowers and skulls to me. and 
she very well may have ruined my life.  i am quite serious.  
literally.  possibly.  ruined it.
 erm. richard. john. gillanders. yeah. 
 "if you're not into that whole 'brevity' thing."
  love kirsten 


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