A indicated car dealer out of New Maryland told us this posting that there is a new. Pool bikini sun looked backyard orgasm Annie. Weaving the algorithm online dating site to meet local sluts in Puebla Intermittent will be Happy Ending. . Want to ask a little more than three comedians after a new life of the birth.
She peerless away from the final nope and was founded these nights free dance techniques. They put me on eight hundred dollars of Thorazine four months a day looking six hundred dollars at allure - an important-tasting liquid, but it went too encounter and you couldn't find the means or post them out later. Can you get me that?.
Don't you think we ought to do an A. Andy Warhol 's Alice in Wonderland?
It, uh, it would make a fantastic film. So I wanted somebody to write the script for it, in a modern sense. I think it would be the most marvelous movie in the world, if it could be done. In a sense it is, but not in the way it really should be done. What's needed right now is a real scene. I mean not just cartoon characters, but the actual character of people because there's so many fantastic people that you might as well use the people. American Girl [ edit ] Quotes of Sedgwick from Edie: It's okay — I know. On being told by a palm reader that she had a very short life line The way those sons-of-bitches took advantage of Annie backyard looked bikini orgasm pool sun.
Warhol is a sadistic faggot. Fast cars, fast horses, and people doing things! Response to a question in an interview, New York World-Telegram 18 August I made a mask out of my face because I didn't realize I was quite beautiful. God blessed me so. I practically destroyed it. I had to wear heavy black eyelashes like bat wings, and dark lines under my eyes, and cut all my hair off, my long dark hair. Cut it off and strip it silver and blonde. All those little maneuvers I did out of things that were happening in my life that upset me. It's frightening and glamorous and exciting at the same time.
I wouldn't change it for anything! After the bad and sad times in my life, it's something I want to do. Fashion as a whole is a farce, completely. The people behind it are perverted, the styles are created by freaked out people, just natural weirdos. I know this because I worked with all those people while I was modeling. And then I started rollicking around with all kinds of kids a lot younger than me. Anywhere from 15 to their 20s, but I was kind of in my late 20s. I had fun, but I really didn't have anyone I particularly loved.
And I still don't, except for loving friends, but I mean I haven't been in love with anyone in years and years. But I have a certain amount of faith that it'll come. On coming home to California in the late 's. Everything that happened to me has been a paradox for life. The very things that I should have done would have been the trap. The very things I might have given into, that demanded, that said, this is your life. I mean, this is your only way to survive, are the things I found hardest to end. You have to work like mad to make people understand Even if I don't make it, you know, I really insist on believing, and then I fall off the edge because there's nobody else to follow it.
And I would just fall off the edge. Roberts says, "Hello, backyad. Are you all ready? Put all your weight on nikini leg. My god, this rear end looks like a battlefield. Well, maybe you don't but the nearly incommunicable torments of speed, buzzerama, that arcylic high, horrorous, yodeling, repetitious echoes of an infinity of butally harrowing that words cannot capture the devastation nor the tone of such a vicious nightmare. Yes, I'm even getting paranoid, which is a trip for me. I don't really dig it, but there it is. It's hard to choose between the climactic ecstasies of speed and cocaine.
Bikoni, they are so fabulous. That fantabulous sexual exhilaration. Otgasm is better, coke or speed? It's hard to choose. The purest speed, baxkyard purest coke, loooked sex is a deadlock. Backyarc get chattering at about pkol miles an hour over the downdraft, and booze kind of cools it. It can get very funny. It's Anniw good combination for a party. Annif for an orgy, though. Backyarx was the first time I had backyare shot nAnie each arm. Closed my fists, and jab, jab. A shot of cocaine and speed, and orfasm shot of heroin. Stripped off all my clothes, leapt downstairs, and ran out on Park Avenue and two blocks down it before my friends caught me.
Naked as a lima bean. A speedball is from another world. It's shn little bit dangerous. Pure coke, pure speed, and pure sex. The ultimate in climax. Once I went over to Dr. Roberts for a bikuni of Annie backyard looked bikini orgasm pool sun. It was very strange because he wouldn't tell me what it was and I was playing it bimini. It looed my first intravenous shot, and I said, orgam, I don't feel it. Just flipped out of my skull! Annir ended up wildly balling him. And flipping him looksd of his skull.
He was probably shot up. Tapes for the movie Ciao! Manhattan, on her first experiences with heavy drugs. Oh, wow, what a scene ograsm place was - that heavenly drug down sexual perversion get their rocks off health spa. I was already Anniw bombed I don't know ograsm I got there. Looled got down to the pool, where all the freaks were. I met Paul America at the pool and I told him we were probably in danger if we stayed, pool we were so blasted we forgot what was good for us and what wasn't, and the whole place turned into a giant orgy. Oh, it was really backysrd night just orgasn on an incredible sexual tailspin. Bacckyard get enough oragsm it.
It was loked of the wildest scenes I've ever been in or ever hope to be in. I should be ashamed of myself. Orgam not, but I should be. Sex and speed, wow! Bikkini twenty-four-hour bioini that can go on for days. And there's no way to explain it unless orgassm been through it; there's no way to tell anyone who hasn't tasted it. I'd like to turn on the whole world for just a sn. I'm greedy; I'd like to keep most of it for looied and a few others, a few of my friends. Manhattan tapes, recalling its pool spa orgy scene "The Siege of Anbie Warwick Hotel. I started having strange, convulsive behavior. I was bkkini up every half-hour. I'd entertain myself hanging on to the bathroom sink with my hind feet stopped up against the door, trying to hold myself steady enough so I wouldn't crack my stupid skull open.
I Ahnie myself loked making a tape. I realized that I had to get barbiturates in order to bikihi the convulsions, bwckyard lasted either hours. Something was spinning in my head. Poool just kept thinking that if I could pop enough speed I'd knock the daylights orgazm of my system and none of this nonsense would go on. None of this looked around and moaning, sweating like a pig, and whew! It was a heavy scene. When I finally cooled down Annue what I thought was pretty good shape, I slipped on a little muumuu, ran down the stairs of the Warwick, barefoot to the lobby. My eye caught a mailman's jacket and a sack of mail hanging across the back of a chair in the hall way entrance, and before I knew what I was doing, I whipped on the jacket, flipped the bag over my lookd, and flew out lokked door, whistling a happy tune.
This is a federal offense. Fooling around with the mail. He ordered me oloked the back Anhie. They telephoned an ambulance from Bellevue and packed me into it. I was back into convulsions again, which was really a drag, and I tried to tell the doctors and the nurses and the student interns bikni I'd run out of barbiturates and overshot speed. I could speak sanely, pook all my motor nerves were going crazy wild. It looked like Annie backyard looked bikini orgasm pool sun was out of my mind. If you had seen me, orgams wouldn't have bothered to listen, and Ahnie of them did.
Oh, God, it was a nightmare. Finally six big spade attendants came and held me down on a stretcher. I got twice as bad. I told them if they'd just let go wun me, I would calm down and stop kicking and fighting. But they wouldn't listen and they started to tell each other what stages of hallucinations I was in. All these things totally unreal to my mind and just guessed on their part. Oh, it was insane. Then they plunged a great needle into my butt and BAM! When I woke up, wow! Rats all over the floor, wailing and screaming. We ate potatoes with spoons. The doctors at Bellevue finally contacted my private physician, Anie after five days shn came and got me out.
They sent me back to Gracie Square, a private mental hospital that cost a thousand biini a week. I was there for five months. Then I ran away with a patient and we went to an apartment in the Seventies somewhere which belonged to another patient backyarc the ofgasm, who gave us the keys. The guy I ran away bikinii was twenty, but he'd been a junkie since the age of nine, so he was pretty emotionally retarded and something of a drag. I didn't have any pills, so, kind of ravaging around, I went to see a gynecologist and a pretty well-off one. He asked me if I would like to shoot up some acid with him.
I hadn't much experience with acid, but I wasn't afraid. He closed his office at five, and we took off in his Aston Martin and drove up the coast. We stopped at a motel and he gave me three ampules of liquid Sandoz acid, intravenously, mainlining, and he gave himself the same amount and he completely flipped, I was hallucinating and trying to tell him what I was seeing. I'd say, "I see rich, embroidered curtains, and I see people moving in the background. It's the Middle Ages and I am a princess, " and I told him he was some sort of royalty. We made love from eight in the evening until seven in the morning with ecstatic climax after climax, just going insane with it, until he realized it was seven and he had to get back to his office to open it at eight-thirty.
He gave me a shot to calm me down, and because I couldn't come down, I took about fourteen Placidyls. On the way back something very strange happened. I didn't realize I was going to say it, but I said out loud, "I wish I was dead". I didn't even know the man. It hardly seemed worth living any more because once again I was alone. He dropped me off at the apartment where I was staying with the runaway patient. I had a little Bloody Mary when I got there, and dropped a few more Placidyls. With my tolerance, nothing should have happened, but I suddenly went into a coma. My eyes rolled back in my head.
I had called an aide, Jimmy, at the hospital - he had been a good friend - I had called him anonymously and asked him to come and visit us. He happened to turn up just as I went into the coma. He and the heroin addict tried to wake me up. They slapped me and pumped my chest and they put me in a bathtub full of really cold water. Jimmy began to call hospitals - not psychiatric but medical - and one of them actually told them to let me sleep it off. But Jimmy just flipped. He knew I was dying, and he was right. He called Lenox Hill Hospital, and the police finally came.
Jimmy and the heroin addict were taken into custody, and I was rushed to the hospital. I was actually declared dead. My mother was called. I started breathing again. I was pretty shaken up by what happened because I didn't understand how I could have almost gone out on just fifteen Placidyls when I used to live on thirty-five three-grain Tunials a day, plus alcohol. They released Jimmy and the junkie, but of course I was still in the trap. I thought I was fine and that I could leave. But a psychiatrist came to interview me and I was put in the New York State Psychiatric Institute at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital - committed on the grounds of unintentional, unconscious suicide.
It was a pretty devastating experience. They put me on eight hundred milligrams of Thorazine four times a day plus six hundred milligrams at bedtime - an ugly-tasting liquid, but it took quick effect and you couldn't hide the pills or spit them out later. I had all kinds of bad reactions from it - I'd get bad tremors and all itchy and wormy. I said I wasn't going to take the stuff any more, no matter what, so they finally took me off it one day. I had a seizure, vomited all over the floor, and I couldn't get tremendous dosages of Thorazine, but they accused me of importing drugs and taking them there in the hospital. My doctor was young. There's no point in even reasoning with you. I'll just go to some other hospital.
It was one of the most unpleasant experiences I've ever been through. I lived in a big dormitory on a ward with about sixty to eighty women. We did all the mopping, cleaning, making beds, scrubbing toilets. And the people there were just so awful. Some of them were mean. The staff completely ignored you except to administer medication. I thought it was never going to end. In Manhattan State, even in there, there were pushers. One girl who lived in a smaller dormitory - there were two with about ten beds in them - was pushing speed and heroin.
And because I'd been warned that if ever you were caught using drugs in a state hospital you'd be criminally punished, I didn't touch any drugs during the three months I was there. On her near-death experience and final days in New York I think drugs are like strawberries. That was something I was very much a part of, but at the same time there's that incredible nightmare paranoia. It frightened me to see it around me. I had everything that could be moves stolen by speed freaks. Things began to disappear. All my jewelry was stolen and all my expensive clothes.
By the way, have you heard anything about my furs? Manhattan I'd been two years locked up in hospitals. I was twenty when I got out from Bloomingdale and I met a young man from Harvard who was very attractive in a sort of Ivy League way. And we made love in my grandmother's apartment and it was terrific, it was just fabulous. That was the first time I ever made love, and I had no inhibitions or anything. It was just beautiful. I didn't get my period and so I had to tell my doctor. The hospital pass was given to see if you could handle yourself outside.
I was terrified to tell him that I thought I was pregnant, but I finally did. I could get an abortion without any hassle at all, just on the grounds of a psychiatric case. So that wasn't too good a first experience with lovemaking. I mean it kind of screwed up my head, for one thing. This fellow found out. I'm not going to ask you for anything, so don't get uptight, but it's just kind of making me uncomfortable. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do about it. On becoming pregnant after her first sexual experience I'm a little nervous about saying anything about "the Artist" because it kind of sticks him right between the eyes, but he deserves it. Warhol really fucked up a great many people's - young people's - lives.
My introduction to heavy drugs came through the Factory. I liked the introduction to drugs I received. I was a good target for the scene; I blossomed into a healthy young drug addict. On tapes for Ciao! Manhattan kk kk ggg ddd wowo well uh, well, no, well sa-ay. I I I know know know I I can but it's ha ha ha hard. In Santa Barbara, unable to talk or walk properly, suffering from permanent brain damage after being taken out of Manhattan State Hospital It was really sad - Bobby's and my affair. The only true, passionate, and lasting love scene, and I practically ended up in the psychopathic ward. I had really learned about sex from him, making love, loving, giving.
It just completely blew my mind - it drove me a little insane. I was like a sex slave to this man. I could make love for forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, without getting tired. But the minute he left me alone, I felt so empty and lost that I would start popping pills. He had more or less quit using drugs. When I first knew him, a friend of his used to come up with him to my apartment and they'd do a number in the bathroom. This guy eventually died of a heroin overdose, and Bobby left drugs alone after that. But if I wasn't practically in the act of lovemaking, I would be thinking of how to get hold of drugs.
I really loved this man. What happened was that Bobby said, "Let's go to a party. They're making an underground movie," and he said that I, the Warhol heiress, queen, star, socialite, blah, should be there. Bobby really wanted to go. I had a bad scene with him. I pulled out a knife and I wasn't going to let him out the door until he made love to me. I always get really dreadful. But we finally went. I went through it all. I was furious - this after about two years of our continuing relationship. Finally I said, "Now I'm going to leave this party. So we got into my limousine and he said, "Where would you like to eat? Where would I like to eat? I screeched at him, "Why the hell can't you make up your own mind where we're going to eat?
Why do I have to make all the decisions? I got madder and madder as we drove along, and just as we drove by the Chelsea Hotel I did something. I've never done anything to hurt anyone, and yet I was so furious that I pressed the button and rolled down the window screen - the glass plate between the front and back seats - and I told the chauffeur that the man in the back was molesting me; he was a junkie! I was so horrified by what I'd said, so flipped out by that, that I jumped out of the car into the path of the oncoming traffic, certain that my head would be crushed. All that happened was the I got bruised, badly bruised, but no broken bones.
I mean, I was conscious, not destroyed at all. But I'd done such a terrible thing! I couldn't reconcile that. I had been about to explode. The hotel people came out, and they and Bobby carried me in. I had to pretend I was unconscious because I couldn't comprehend the fact that I had tried to get him busted, to hurt him seriously. He was the only person I had ever gotten violent about. I take out whatever violence comes into my system much more heavily on myself than on anyone else. But that was a pretty tight squeeze. I really craved making love to him. Edie describing a low point in her relationship with Bob Neuwirth Edie: Girl On Fire by David Weisman and Melissa Painter I'm a little nervous about saying anything about the artist, because it kind of sticks him right between the eyes, but he deserves it.
He really fucked up a great many people's, young people's lives. It's not that I'm rebelling. It's that I'm just trying to find another way. I have an accident about every two years, and one day it won't be an accident! I act this way because that's the way I feel like acting. If people like it, fine. If they don't, that's their problem. I came to New York to see what I could see — that's from a children's book, isn't it? The very things I might have given in to, that demanded, that said, this is your life. I mean, this is your only way to survive, are the things I fought hardest to end.
And um, what makes that sane is that I can understand other people's situations in their own terms, but I still can't understand mine. I lived a very isolated life. When you start at 20, you have a lot of nonsense to work out of your system. I had no money. My parents closed down all credit. I couldn't get any money, and they were trying to lock me up again because I'd taken some acid and told my psychiatrist about it. I just told him what the experience was like and he jumped, and at the same time he read about Andy Warhol 's "pornographic" movies in Time.
I was in the studio a lot, so my psychiatrist got really upset and called my parents and was gonna have me put away, so I ran away to Europe with Andy and Chuck.
On being financially cut off from her parents in I want a further step for me I don't want to cut it off. I understand where it's been cut off for other people, and I understand the whole process in that order of things, but I see no way in that isn't a trap, that will let me out again without damaging too much, you know? I heard about this doctor who gave vitamin shots, and they were very stimulating and kept you going for quite a while. I was under treatment with vitamin therapy, just multivitamin shots.
But I heard about this super deal that this other doctor had. A guy I was going out with at the time told me not to go to him, never to have his shots. So I immediately took them, thinking there must be something special about them And I went, and that was the beginning of injecting drugs. I went to a doctor for it. I didn't handle it myself until a year later. I turned into a total speed freak for a few months. That's about as long as I could survive, and then I placed myself in the hospital. You care enough, that you want your life to be fulfilled in a living way, not in a painting way, not in a writing way I want to reach people and express myself.
You have to put up with the risk of being misunderstood if you are going to try to communicate. You have to put up with people projecting their own ideas, attitudes, misunderstanding you. But it's worth being a public fool if that's all you can be in order to communicate yourself. They say use it, channel it. Do it, like there will be a sign, be an artist, you're so creative, do anything, you've got to do it, use it. Then, things like, and you've got to collect yourself, too. I mean, you know, make your hair more about yourself, self-respect. But I mean, ridiculous. You know why my doctor got so mad this time?
He said, that scene, remember in the LSD bit, the only time I had it in that, sleeping with what's-his-name and having that sex bit go on while, it was very strange-mannered, but I certainly wasn't mortified. I mean, I humanly might be a little mortified knowing that a thousand other human beings would think it mortifying, but basically, me. So he thought that was a total lack of self-respect, which is wrong. It's not going to interfere with the film. I've been in an auto accident and another fire. They thought I'd need plastic surgery, but I haven't a scar No, I don't think I'm accident prone, but it's strange.
Referring to a house fire It's like my having to walk down thousands and thousands of white marble stairs Yes, and I'd have to walk down them forever. I never thought about going up I don't know, don't you think that must mean something? It never occurred to me to turn it around, I mean, why didn't I think that way? This was after I had the car accident. Describing a dream to Chuck Wein I think something very weird's going on now, 'cause the power that is permitted to youth is quite extraordinary. And they are sort of run by that kind of power. Referring to the 60's youth movements It's sort of like a mockery in a way of reality because they think everything is smiles and sweetness and flowers when there is something bitter to taste.
And to pretend there isn't is foolish. I mean the ones that wonder around and know, at the same time, and yet wear flowers, and they deserve to wear flowers. And they've earned their smile On the 60's flower children Isn't that sad! Can you believe it?
I always get socially dreadful. I saved Bobby Kennedy. I'll sticking go to some other girl.
Response to watching herself on a monitor When I started going around with Andy people thought I had a press agent. After a while I got sort of paranoid about all the publicity, and I holed up in my apartment and cut off the telephone for two months. I saw only two people. Then I felt ready to go out again. I want to do more acting. I like it, but it's hard — the long hours, getting the lines straight, I didn't have to do that with Andy. I say the word death a lot … think of it as … primal relations, opposite, so if I say death a lot, it means I'm concerned with life. I'm out of my mind! Somebody told me that a long time ago.
I don't want to think about dreams now. When I was in the hospital, I was very suicidal in a kind of blind way, I was starving to death and just 'cause I didn't want to turn out like my family showed me, you know, that's all I ever saw of people, was my own family. I wasn't allowed to associate with anyone. So I didn't want to live. I held out pretty long before I really had an affair, but I got lots of attention from my father physically. He was always trying to sleep with me … from the age of about seven on. Only I resisted that. And one of my brothers who claimed that sisters were there for the purpose of teaching … a sister and brother should teach each other the rules and the game of making love; and I wouldn't fall for that either.
I just felt, I had no reason to feel. Nobody told me that incest was a bad thing or anything, but I just didn't feel turned on by them. But I really, since Annie backyard looked bikini orgasm pool sun exist, at all, I believe that it's possible for people I've lived through impossible situations. So I believe in it. I just believe, and that's the magic That's the whole thing, you talk about magic that there's to believe in, and it is there. But most people don't really believe in it. And I refuse, like, since Annie backyard looked bikini orgasm pool sun still alive and done the things I've done and seen things and understood things as far as I have, and I am alive, I mean physically intact.
When I shouldn't be, according to medical reports and so forth. I mean I should be, not here. That's all there is to it. So the magic's working and it's a rare situation. Why do people stop developing, or, like they stop the way you can rate their, psychologically, their development? Where they stop, and just from being children to maybe stopping at a very adolescent age, and they stay there until they die. I mean, they react adolescently. They don't — it's that continual read, that process which is is the total threat for the ego. If all I cared about was me, I could make a million. And that's what they will never understand.
In the year you're going to have a problem Leisure time will be a problem in the year I just want you to realize, I just want to make sure that you know of it now. Do you realize when people just close their eyes what they see? Colors and things, forms of every sort. I wonder if that happens for everybody? I'm afraid of habit patterns It would be too Annie backyard looked bikini orgasm pool sun of a routine if you had to establish definite ways of getting through things. You'd get very bored. You live alone, creating your life as you go. Quotes about Sedgwick[ edit ] Alphabetized by author We had some good times. We would go to the Park and have a picnic. Or lock the doors to be sure no one was coming into the hotel.
But those time never lasted very long. Somebody was always coming over. I threw a lot of people out who were bothering her. I threw them out as soon as they came in. She didn't dig that, because she dug the scene of a lot of people. She called the bellman and tried to have me thrown out. So I left and didn't come back. Paul America, as quoted in Edie: After the film project began to go to pieces, Edith wanted to get back with Andy. She saw him a few times - making up with him - and they did a little film together. They were absolutely terrified. A close friend of Andy's had come around and said, "Dears, I want you all to know that Andy has already filmed, edited, and published Ciao!
It is very soon to be released with Edie Sedgwick, and it is the real Ciao! Manhattan tapes, as quoted in Edie: The people on the train just loved her. She never sat down the whole way out - the train was so crowded we stood all the way from the East Village to Coney Island. She was in all that mad regalia with a bikini underneath so we could go swimming. The people loved her. She was talking to everyone and getting along. We rode in the first car so she could look out of the window in the front. She was fascinated by the tunnels and the weaving of the train and the clacking.
She'd never experienced anything like it. We had cotton candy; ate hot dogs at Nathan's; we went on the parachute jump, the roller-coaster; we went swimming in the surf and lying in the sun. We collected shells and rocks and brought back two completely chewed corncobs for souvenirs. She was just incredulous. And the laughing and the laughing. She screamed all the way up and all the way down the parachute jump, the big peacock-feather earrings standing straight out from her head. We got on the log sluice ride with those big silicone logs, and you came down this big sluice, and water splashed over her feathers and hat and everything, and she just loved every minute of it.
I took her on the ride where the man in the gorilla costume chases after you car - one of those spook house things. She just loved him, carrying on with him and asking him into the car with us. On the carousel she rode the swan - a double or triple-seater with the silhouette of a swan on either side. She said, "Birds of a feather ought to stick together. We went way over our heads swimming. Then we came home on the subway with all the rush-hour crowds. The front car both times. Oh, she just loved it! We came home so exhausted. Bobby Andersen recalling a day spent with Edie on Coney Island in the late 's, as quoted in Edie: American Girl by Jean Stein and George Plimpton Edie was not that involved in her horse sculpture; she kept covering it with damp towels and there was a question of wheter or not it would dry out irreparably.
She felt that the Casa B and Cambridge were "not enough. It was a natural migration. I helped her pack and drove her to New York in her Mercedes-Benz. I think her idea was to model in New York. Much of that summer of she went to a salon where they literally pounded her legs into shape. Her legs were not good in those days - piano legs - but by the time the course was over she ended up with those legs that were so famously beautiful. There was flashing red light and she didn't stop. A big saloon car drove right into us. The car went into a lamp stand on the next street. My head went through the windshield. The car was totaled. They had it on TV - "How did two people step out of this car alive?
Edie, it turned out, had broked a knee. Edie was very scared that her father was going to use this accident as an excuse to put her back in the loony bin. We talked things over in the hospital room. She decided that we'd leave undetected. Her mother was in cahoots with her. She came and picked us up in a station wagon. Edie's leg was in plaster. Sedgwick drove us to the ranch, and then we took our stuff and I drove Edie directly to the Los Angeles airport where we had a drink, and then she boarded the next plane for New York. I never saw her again.
Barker Benfield on Edie's car accident in California, as quoted in Edie: I don't know the other sides of Edie. I know the sweet, wide-eyed, enthusiastic Edie. She would have to die from drugs whoever gave them to her. Although it might have been a little out of her reach, she would emulate that …It was like she could see, just out of her reach, she could see how it could have been her, what she could offer, the fine quality of thought that she was capable of. Jeff Briggs, as quoted in Edie: Kit Carsonas quoted in Edie: That's how she was able to dominate One thing I remember. In sex your body takes on a certain odor. Edie had a particular smell that came out in lovemaking. Resnick had not spoken in months for no other reason than they were neighbors who did not realize they had not spoken in months.
Everybody suspected he was taller than he used to be, but shorter than our town councilwoman, Mrs. Trenton, who was so tall she looked like King Kong in a belted pink party dress observing a mushroom garlic cream tart for the first time. She was so tall it only made sense she was granted a position of authority in our town, my mother said once. And Mark was a little bit shorter than that, in a very small, unnoticeable way. Most of the adults stood at the bar. Some needed to use the bathroom. She took a sip of her martini while a horsefly flew out of her armpit. My mother had joked all summer long that if my father wanted to turn fifty, he would have to do the damn thing outside on the grass.
A map of Europe! He walks out to the car every morning and comes back in asking me how is it that a car can get so dirty! At some point, they always turned to me, the third party. Resnick, twisting her gold tennis bracelet around her wrist. My mother asked this question everywhere we went. Nobody had yet disagreed, though the opinion of the dentist was still pending. Just a way into conversation. Resnick hesitated, while Mark scratched a freckle on his arm like a scratch-n-sniff. Resnick and Mark understood that I too thought this question was unacceptable. Resnick had a bad habit of never looking at me, so she tried to size up my entire existence using only her peripheral vision.
Dirty blondish brownish hair. Scraggly, mousy, darling little thing that apparently had no access to an iron or a bathtub. I did not like baths. Mark said they were the saddest things he had ever seen, floating by a broken buoy, curled up like they were sleeping. My mother sighed and blended the garlic. Resnick finally said, and this settled all of us into a strange sort of ease. Resnick straightened out the hem of her lime green dress, and my mother pointed out that my father had recently planted tiger lilies in our backyard. Mark and his mother nodded. They already knew this.