predictions

My novel (right now it’s a novella) Men in Caves will magically inflate to around 67,000 words and at least one young, eager agent, one rough and dusty Alaskana regional and one tailored-suited national publisher will wet themselves upon reading the first paragraph. I will be given a hearty advance, a handshake, and will be flown to Canada to tour Margaret Atwood’s bedroom and backyard.

Raccoons will replace songbirds in popularity as tote bag  embroidered embellishment and stencils on Tiffany blue coffee mugs (personally? I’m nostalgic for unicorns and tiny rainbows. I love birds but I also love princesses and fairy magic and stuff). Their ringed, fluffy tails will be everywhere and it will be trendy among the terribly hip and twee to wear little black raccoon masks and Davy Crockett caps.  No one will wear pretend moustaches anymore; no one will scribble swiggly black marks on our fingers and place said fingers underneath our noses.  Instead we will either pencil in a unibrow to show our defiance to standards of beauty (and to show we are habitués of Kahlo) or we will fashion Imperial beards out of macramé and wear them to parties and on our bicycle rides to co-ops and collective yoga birthing centers.

Everyone will re-discover Terence Trent D’Arby. We will also enjoy once again the comfort and thigh-enhancement of bicycle shorts. These two things go hand in hand. (Experience le d’Arby here.)

There is a guy that works at Walgreens down the road who looks like Terence Trent D’Arby. He works the late shift and wears eyeliner and a bit of gloss and I think he probably has a mean, closed-minded manager who makes him work just the late shift on purpose. As if the fine people of West Knoxville can only handle men in eye makeup from the hours of 11-5 a.m. I predict that he will eventually quit Walgreens even though he likes the cosmetics department and the magazines (because that’s why I like Walgreens). Maybe his next job will let him see the light of day and go do fun things at night instead of listening to stories about bursitis while his friends are streaming Grey Gardens on Instant Netflix.  I truly hope that before he clocks out for the last time that he has used  his employee discount wisely and has stocked up on L’oreal HIP Truth Creme Eyeliner. It’s the best as long as you know how to work that eyeliner brush and from the looks of the gently sweeping application of it that he’s applied on his own lids he knows exactly how to work that eyeliner.

2011 has been an odd trip already in my world. It’s been cold and exquisite. You?

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