Dinner Party List

Last night we had a mermaid drawing contest at the Marmot House. This is Madame 3-yr-old's entry. My sister did the basic mermaid, octopus, and starfish outlines. Madame filled them in and made some additions, including "101 bubbles."


The girls are currently in a gift giving phase, which is how I ended up with this artwork. Every time I visit, they slip broken plaster hearts and paper dolls and princess drawings into my pockets.

Sometimes they also meet me at the door and, without taking a breath for five straight minutes, tell me everything they've learned since I last saw them, sing me a song, and tell me all about the fascinating clothes they're wearing. Yesterday they showed me the "shells" my sister had fashioned for them out of diaper liners and ribbons, so they could be mermaids. They LOVE mermaids.

Madame 3-yr-old told me recently that she'd like to invite a mermaid to dinner. The logistics on that one seem awkward to me, so no mermaids made it onto my dinner party list. These lovely people are included on my imaginary dinner party list, though:

Kermit the Frog - Does anyone NOT want to meet Kermit the Frog? He's so nice. And I like his little legs.

Haven Kimmel - I'd have to really work hard not to mention every 2 minutes that I love A Girl Named Zippy.

Haven: Could you please pass the pie?

MBC: I just love A Girl Named Zippy.

Haven: And could I have some more milk?

MBC: Especially the part about the Shriners and the bike. I love that part. I tried to read it out loud when I was booktalking at a library event, but I couldn't because I started laughing too hard.

Haven: I think Kermit the Frog is choking on his dessert!

MBC: Man, that's one good book you wrote.

The Raven Master at the Tower of London - He led the tour of the Tower I took with the Supreme Coordinatrix last year and was VERY amusing. I still have a lot of questions I didn't ask, though. Starting with those Royal Guard hats. What's the deal with those? Why so tall?

Laurie Colwin - It would be especially nice if she brought a pan of her gingerbread with her.

A Good King Lear (and some bad punctuation)

I recently finished reading Ian Pollock's Illustrated King Lear for a graphic novel genre study. (Don't tell me, because I already know--graphic novels are a format, not a genre.) I've also been talking about it a lot, because I was recently hanging out with Shakespeare fans, and I just posted a brief review of it on my library's staff review source.

Here's my basic conclusion: I really like illustrated plays. And I kind of think Ian Pollock's a rock star. He has an unusual drawing style that reminds me a little bit of Gris Grimly and Edward Gorey--not because his drawings are similar, just because they all do things that are slightly creepy but in a way that makes me want to invite them all to my house for a dinner party. (I don't want to hear about the bad punctuating, or lack of punctuating, that went on just there either.)

Which brings me to my actual point--strangers and/or famous/dead/fictional people I would like to invite to my house. I don't have time to make my list right now, but tell me who'd be on your list and I'll get to mine eventually. Maybe even tomorrow.

Imaginary Conversations

Sometimes I imagine conversations I would have with dead and/or fictional people.

Like Wednesday when my sister and I went to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. At one point, Harry's concerned that he's becoming Voldemort because he's so angry all the time. My sister leaned over and said, "Maybe that's your problem right now. Voldemort." It's not, but I would like to sit down with Harry and discuss our rage.

MBC: So, Harry, why so angry?

Harry: Well, you know the entire wizarding world thinks I'm a liar but I'm also their only hope so, there's kind of a lot of pressure on me right now, but I'm too young to be in the Order and no one's telling me what's going on. And Voldemort keeps trying to kill me. The guy's such a jerk.

MBC: Yeah, I get it. Mean people are the WORST. They make me mad, too.

Or last year, I lived in this 98-year-old house so my roommates and I ripped out a lot of the carpet and repainted most of the first floor, including the ceiling in the kitchen. The paint was light colored, so we had to use primer and then two coats of paint. Every time I worked on the ceiling, I'd imagine chatting with Michaelangelo in the next life over some cold drinks (I'm fond of apple juice).

MBC: Man, ceilings are so hard to paint, right? How long did it take you to paint the Sistine Chapel ceiling?

Michaelangelo: About four years. How long did it take to paint your kitchen ceiling?

MBC: Oh, probably two hours. That was spread over a few days. I live in the 21st century, though, so my quality of life is higher than yours and I expect everything in my life to be easier. And no one's impressed by my painting feat even though it was HARD.

Michaelangelo: It's a hard knock life for you. (I anticipate that Michaelangelo will have seen the movie Annie by the time we chat.)

And this morning I was thinking about the times when I see a book review and think I MUST read that and then I check the library catalog and we don't own that book and THEN I think, Why hasn't the buyer for this section purchased such a fabulous looking book?! and THEN I realize that I'M the buyer for that section and I buy the book immediately and crow to myself, I can do that because I HAVE THE POWER, which leads me to believe that I need to have THIS conversation with He-Man (because he had the power, too).

MBC: He-Man, how did you remain so humble even though you HAD THE POWER and were always defeating Skeletor?

He-Man: Well, I always wore those tiny, fur man panties. Keeps a guy humble.

MBC: Good point. You had really terrible hair, too. Sad day for you.