For those of you who do not subscribe to the Punxsutawney Club newsletter, the events of Febuary 2nd may remain a matter of great befuddlement (If by some chance you are a subscriber of said newsletter, feel free to skip to the next paragraph). For those still with me: Punxsutawney Phil was caught sans shadow -Predicting an early spring.
Ah spring, when winter's ugly is deemed "fresh" and my dear friend Lexi starts plotting out her garden (to which I writhe in jealousy over as I stare out of 7th story high-rise apartment windows, playing "find a patch of grass" -She's going to plant chiles! She might have tomatoes!).
Today I bared witness to my own Punxsutawney Phil of some sort ...Ok, so my Phil is a Phyllis. She's also a retired "lady of the night," strongly resembles the love child of Divine and Richard Simmons, walks like a zombie and randomly giggles to herself while riding up the elevator (as though she's suddenly filled with some long lost childhood innocence -"Weee!").
Spring is in the air when "Phyllis" starts dressing in her short minis (Skirt? Belt? No no that has to be a skirt ...Or wait ...Hmm, I think I see a tag), her pre-shrunk (and then shrunk again) tops, Mr. T sunglasses and sandals (that are long past their milage). I'll spot her in the mailroom or we'll cross paths (with her back and forth fishermen sway) in the lobby. Our conversations are generally brief ..."Arf," I take as a "hello" and "egh," as a "lovely day isn't it?" ...There are times our conversations are based solely in the buzzing of the elevator and then true to form, as though just waking up, she'll stare @ me, look me up and down and in a jazzy tone mutter (with questioning undertones) "Heyyy ...I haven't seeen you in a while, egh?" The only real meaty tidbits have included: 1. "I almost went into porn" and 2. "Heeyy, my boyfriend is a Jew. They're good." ...Oo Punxsutawney "Phyllis".
There I was, this morning, steaming cup of coffee in hand (messy hair to boot), heading towards my building's enterance ...And there she was, standing in a full slouch, outside. A smear of white denim (a skirt, I'm almost postive), a cobalt blue crushed velvet cropped top complete with exposed sports bra (in the ever so popular amongst women of the wintering age, "nude" hue), Mr. T sunglasses, gold flip flops only visable by the thong between her toes. Amongst her white-girl fro, Day-glo yellow headphones the size of earmuffs (My dime is on Lisa Lisa or Blondie) and a long/slim cigarette pressed between her lips. I lowered my coffee cup, gave my best polite/pressed smile (truth be told, I was passing smiles out left + right, all morning) ...I smelled the menthol, new soil, a lake-filled breeze, Old Spice (perhaps from her "Jew boyfriend") and wet cement.
Punxsutawney Phyllis: "Egh"
Me: "G'morning"
Punxsutawney Phyllis then moved to the side, out of the sun, for me to pass and just like that her shadow disappeared.
Spring! Ah, spring! You're here! Hooray!
And now for a few random tidbits:
-I think my life is lacking a good game of Balderdash.
-Alexander is not an Aphgani (And his middle name is NOT Sayid).
-Today (Wednesday proper) was both National Potato Chip Day + National Pi Day ...I forgot to celebrate either, sigh.
-Josh was beat up by a mic stand, Tuesday night and yes, he knows he is in need of a frozen bag of peas.
-I still can't get over Lexi's gardening prospects ...Oo wait, I think I see a patch of grass.
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