Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Today M. is dressed very fashionably in a Christian Dior halter top (with plaid ruffles down the front), cuffed dark dress pants, and shiny red Wizard of Oz high heels. (M. strongly disagrees with me referring to her shoes as 'Wizard of Oz.' She's right, they look nothing like the ones pictured here, but they are red, so...)

Out of nowhere, M. states the following in a very aggressive tone:

M: "Do you want some Yerba Matey Tea, Jake? IT'S NOT YERBA MATEY! IT'S YERBA mah-tay, OK? GET IT RIGHT! LOOK IT UP ON THE INTERNET. DON'T BE SUCH A CHICKEN!! Bock! Bock! Bock!"

J: "Are you OK? You just had an entire conversation by yourself. I was just sitting here.

M: "Grow up!"

In response, I chuck some leftover water bottle caps at her.

M: "Bottle caps?? Jake, where are you getting these? From your drawer??"

I throw more at her, hitting her on the back of her head.

She groups all of the bottle caps together and hurls them in my general direction all at once. They fall all around me. Immediately after, a wad of paper hits me on the forehead. (Nice shot!)

When M. isn't looking, I shoot a rubber band at the back of her shoulder. She picks it off her desk and aims it at me. Instinctively, I cover my face with my hand and start moving from side to side in my chair.

J: "Not the face!"

This causes terrific laughter from M. She finds it amusing that I am so afraid of her hitting me with a rubber band in the face. It's mostly my eyes I'm worried about, really.

I show her the notes for today's blog. As soon as she reads the part about her shoes being like Dorothy's Ruby Red Slippers, she gets all in a huff.

M: "Wizard of Oz shoes, Jake? What are you talking about? My shoes look NOTHING like the Wizard of Oz shoes." (She pulls up Google Images and types in 'Wizard of Oz shoes.' She takes off one shoe and holds it up next to her monitor.) See? How does THAT look like THIS? They are nothing alike."

J: "Can I take a photo of your shoes? For the blog?"

M: "No. Jake!" (She sniffs the inside of her shoe and makes a bad smell face.) "What?"

J: "Yeah, so the readers can see your shoes."

M: "OK."

She poses her feet and I aim my cell phone camera at her shoes. I don't take a photo because as I'm looking at the screen I realize they don't look anything like Wizard of Oz shoes.

J: "Actually... I'm not taking a photo."

M: "Why not?"

J: "Because if you just look at your shoes alone, they don't look like Wizard of Oz slippers. But, in the bigger picture, they kind of do. But not really. Anyway, if I posted the photo and called them Wizard of Oz shoes in the blog, I would look like an idiot."

M: "Write that down!"

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