on my phobia

I'm not much for David Sedaris, actually. I find his fatuous obsession with his adorable boyfriend Hugh and the adorable things they do together as they adorably navigate foreign cities just nauseating. Also, I'm a huge snob and wouldn't deign to enjoy fiction as popular as his (I use a similar snobbism in explaining why I haven't read the Harry Potter books. While I probably would enjoy them, there are so many more important works out there I need to read first that I'll never get to them).

As far as I'm concerned, the only funny bit in Me Talk Pretty One Day is actually something his awesome sister Amy did, getting made up as a battered woman and going to the dry cleaners (and curse the internets for not supplying me with that picture from Paper):

Employee: Oh my dear, what happened to you?
Amy Sedaris: Can you believe it, I finally found somebody who loves me!

Naturally, I usually read his New Yorker articles as soon as I get the magazine and hate on him until I get bored and then move back to the beginning and read straight through. This week (last week, really, since the Sy Hersh article in the issue I have yet to receive is apparently getting a lot of press right now) though, he wrote something I can relate to, in describing the life-altering grossness of scratching his babysitter's back:

My 5th grade teacher was pretty great, notabe especially for the book collection in the back of the room she let me sit inside and read instead of having to go outside and enjoy recess. But, oh, she had this 50 year old smoker's skin, greasy and tight and covered in age spots. And she would have us rub her shoulders during presentations, all the while making not-orgasmic-sounds-but-definitely-moans. I may be misremembering some of the events, but I'm reasonably certain that I would accumulate some of her shiny skin under my fingernails. Here's where I'm all for David Sedaris:

To this day, should any of our boyfriends demand a back-scratch, my sisters and I recoil. "Brush yourself against a brick wall," we say. "Hire a nurse, but don't look at me. I've done my time."

This may be why I'm single.


I'm listening to:
Feist- Live at Park West, thanks to rbally at your left