Tuesday, August 11, 2009

M. viewed Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal (1957) last night per my recommendation. She said the film was so heavy that she gained weight just watching it.


M: "Tomorrow, I'm getting my face peeled off. It's Martyr's 2! If I were the girl in 'Martyrs,' I would have just looked up after the first beating." (M. looks up and poses like she's in a sunshine kid's commercial.) "I mean, she had a clue before she went in."


M. still doesn't know about this blog, but she knows I'm taking notes of everything she says this week, so I read yesterday's notes to her, followed by the preceding two paragraphs from today.

M: "You know, it's different hearing what you said from someone else."

M. talks about how Victoria Secret clothes never look the same when you get them as they do on the internet. "The Victoria Secret models are all up here, and when you get it, it's all down here." She acts as though she's lifting two wiggly babies, then tossing used Kleenex to the floor. "It's like before and after, but in reverse. Before." (Lifting babies.) "After." (Dropping Kleenex.)

M. busts some quick hip-hop lyrics and takes a big sip of coffee. I've been sitting across from here with a blank expression on my face. Suddenly, I reach for my notebook which causes M. to spit coffee all over herself with laughter. She laughs so hard she declares her ab workout is no longer needed for the day.

M: "My mere presence is a gift."

Me: "What are you thankful for?"

M: "There was a sale. Nordstrom Rack, Jake. It was beautiful There were these boots, Jessica Simpson, knee-high, leather, honey-colored, 5 inch heels, brown tip toe, from $450 to $249.99, in my size. Need I say more?"

She continues, "I am also thankful for mirrors. They allow me to see me. In all my glory, Jake."

Me: "Do you consider yourself an egomaniac?"

M: "I consider myself realistic. That's not all, but when it comes down to how I perceive myself, I am realistic. Greatness is greatness, Jake. You don't have to add to it. No need for more. That's why it's great."

Me: "Who inspires you?"

M: "Barack Obama. (Jake, I am officially mentally retarded.) Because he is energetic, a hard worker, positive, he seems to stay cool and calm in spite of problems, he seems very sure of himself. And he wears Armani suits."

I ask M. for any closing statements before she leaves. Her response: "When I leave, the company as a whole will collapse. It's about quality not quantity. I don't repeat greatness."

She adds: "I wouldn't say anything about my abs, Jake. One million abs!

I read all of the notes from today aloud and ask what M. has learned. She says, "Hearing that is almost like leftovers. It's almost better the second time. I'm going to get my nose pierced, Jake, and then I'll be a real Robocop."

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