Monday, November 16, 2009

DeNae's Month o' Gratitude, Day Sixteen

Last night, I had a complete epiphany. The ending of my book just came to me, as in a dream or, in J.K. Rowling's case, after reading the Cliff's Notes on every fantasy writer and expert on Celtic mythology who ever lived. And I intend to give this beautiful inspiration the same careful treatment as Rowling gave the entire collected works of JRR Tolkien.

Picture it: The Plucky Girl Detective has finally captured the bad guy, and it's time to reveal just who it is that's been dressing up like Boy George and terrorizing local karaoke bars. Reaching up and ripping off his false eyelashes, PGD exposes the perpetrator as none other than HANK, the homophobic owner of the sports memorabilia store and rabid fan of Culture Club, an irreconcilable paradox that has driven him insane and led to his life of crime, really bad singing, which in my book is a capital offense.

While I don't know how the other 22,000-plus words will go, I am now going to tell you the last 17 words of the story. (spoiler alert)

Hands tied behind his back, he'll glower at the Plucky Girl Detective and all the patrons of Klyde's Kooky Karaoke Klub, and he'll say:

"I'd have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for that meddling 240 pound bouncer."

See? JK and me. We're practically twins.

16: I am thankful for strategic dishonesty. On the whole, I'd rather not be lied to. The problem isn't just the deceit. It's that no one ever gets it quite right. Either they're too good at it or not good enough, and either way I just don't have time to coach them. Take a class, people.

However, there are a few liars in my life whom I worship, and who I hope will never, ever learn to tell the truth.

One is my scale, who winks at me every morning and tells me I weigh six to eight pounds less than every other scale on the earth thinks I weigh. Who knows? Maybe gravity just pulls a little less ambitiously in my bathroom, but I have convinced myself that mine is the only accurate scale in the world. Those super-sensitive scales they use to weigh atoms and stuff? Please. They're just guessing.

Another is Calvin Klein and his skinny jeans. I'm not sure what he hopes to gain by telling me that I'm a size 14, but since he is apparently in cahoots with my bathroom scale, I've decided to leave the master planning to them. I don't have to understand all of life's mysteries.

The last group is composed of those delightful people who, machete in hand, regularly hack their way through my front door and clear a path to the couch. Visiting teachers, piano student parents, Jehovah's Witnesses - they all have somehow developed the almost super-human ability to look me right in the eye and say, "Oh, pshaw, your house looks just fine. Seriously, you should see ours."

We both know the only way these good souls' houses could look worse than mine is if they lived in the middle of an artillery range, but still, there they sit, smiling and pleasant while lie after lie just spills from their lips.

Bless their hearts.

Now as for you? Well, from you I expect the same unvarnished truth you've always given me on my comments page. It's been difficult, but over the last year I've learned to live with your kindness, witty banter, and supportive encouragement, and I see absolutely no reason to change anything now.

In fact, speaking of that kind of honesty, let me ask you a question:

Do these jeans make me look fat?


The Garden of Egan said...

Wow! The weirdness in your head just keeps getting better and better!
As for the truth??? Well, DeNae, no! Those jeans make you look like your about to fall through your navel. You are WAYYYYYY too skinny! You probably have to run around in the shower just to get wet! Sheesh, I wish that Calvin would lie to me!
The Idaho Spudbutt

Happy Mom said...

Can't wait to read this book, girl!

I have found a kindred spirit! Machete's are also required to visit my abode! I'm so glad I am not alone.

Maureen said...

The ending to your book is perfect--I laughed my Calvin Kleins off!

Liars, be they your VTs or your sons (who also tell you how good you look in jeans) are sometimes a good thing, as Martha would say. Who needs the stark truth all the time?

aunt dyanne said...

You SHOULD see my house.... no really... next time your in town.

I always say... if you want to drop by to see me, come on over... if you want to come see my house... give me a little notice.

if you come with a machete... i'll know you come in peace and we'll have a nice visit!

( ersheake...not just a word verification, the sound you'll make when you walk in!)

Julie said...

DeNae, from where I sit I can't even SEE you or your jeans.

(I think that's a resounding "No!")

L.T. Elliot said...

Well, since they're digital jeans in this case, those jeans make you look naked. ;)

I'm grateful for those specific liars too. =]

Stepper the Mighty said...

Where can I get a scale like yours?!

I also enjoy the lies of my bathroom lighting telling me each morning that no - I don't have dark circles under my eyes, and my freckles aren't overwhelming - merely fresh and adorable.

Migillicutty said...

You forgo to turn your webcam on, so I can't tell how the jeans look.

You are gonna post your book when you're done with it, right? RIGHT???!!!

Kazzy said...

I have never even come close to trying skinny jeans on! I am impressed.

AS Amber said...

HELL NO, they don't make you look fat!! I've seen you in those spicy jeans and you're freakin' HOTT!!!

"Garden" comment made me laugh...fall through your around in the shower. Too funny!

I have thoroughly enjoyed your Month o' Gratitude. It gives me something to look forward to every day! I think you need to post every day from now on.