Tuesday, 23 October 2007

An Explanation

I know I’ve been a bit quiet lately on the blogging front – I trust my hordes of devoted readers who check this site several times a day have managed to find a suitable substitute to console them in their empty hours, and stave off morbid contemplations of joining the Foreign Legion. You might be pleased to hear that I’ve been busy negotiating the unexpectedly generous publishing contract for my first novel which I’ve finally finished, and consulting with an architect to build a more spacious and better-constructed house for my growing family.

I’d be pleased to hear that too, if it were true. What’s really been commanding all my time and energy is my ongoing performance in a strange play called Lonie Polony and the Seven Dwarfs. It’s rather an avant-garde adaptation of the Disney movie, with a large chunk of Herman’s Head thrown in. There are no capering, patronising caricatures of short-statured men in my version; instead, the dwarfs are actually aspects of my own character which jostle and compete for dominance in a struggle destined to continue for several more weeks until the show’s run comes to its natural end and I reprise my role in Alien: It Burst From My Uterus.

There’s Happy, first to appear and ever-present, but frequently held down and red-bellied by his rowdier, more demanding brothers. There’s Sneezy, who exploits my lowered immunity and necessary abstinence from most medications to breathe in my face as often as possible, bringing with him the varied delights of hay fever and general unwellness. Bashful insisted that for the sake of accuracy, his name should be changed to Taciturn. He often appears in the company of Sleepy, Dopey and Grumpy, that unconquerable triad who, months ago, warned my husband to “stay off our turf, mofo!” before laughing at the vulgar literalness of their joke, and remaining in the ascendancy ever since.

And don’t forget Doc! He is the only dwarf incarnate in this production, and appears right at the end, in the labour ward scene. Played by a different actor every night (the script is very strict on this point), he nevertheless unfailingly strolls into the room just in time to deliver the placenta before pocketing his $3,000 fee.

What I’m trying to say, in my rather long-winded way, is this: expect fewer posts than ever – I’m trying to sleep. Expect dopier writing. Expect more sickness-induced self-pity. Expect more whining and complaining in general. You have been warned, so please, no chiding me for my bad attitude, or Grumpy and his boys will be around to red-belly YOU.

13 comments:

mutleythedog said...

I have always wondered why seven dwarves? and not 4 or 53? Stay cool Ms Polonie!!

jan said...

Too funny. Totally worth waiting for. As long as you have this delicious sense of humor, only good things can happen.

Lonie Polony said...

Hmm Mutley, I don't know either. I've already had a meltdown, so hopefully that'll be the last.

Hi Jan, thanks as always for your kind words. I can only hope I retain some sense of humour when all three children are crying and my house looks like a dump...

hazelblackberry said...

Alien: It Burst From My Uterus - here's hoping it's not as literal as that.

Will continue to be one of the devoted, hopeful horde.

Lonie Polony said...

Lol Hazel, thanks for the loyal sentiment. But you know, you shouldn't humour a delusional lunatic - it only encourages me ;)

Diesel said...

As long as you keep entering the caption contest.

mutleythedog said...

Howzit go'an?

Lonie Polony said...

Hello Diesel - try and stop me. I won't be happy until I've offended all your readers with captions about paedophile priests and giant genitals.

Hey Mutley - fine thanks, in the way people just say 'fine thanks' when how they really feel is miserably ill and wallowing in self-pity.

OneEar said...

I think Dopey went underground during the War on Drugs.

shisomama said...

I thought it might be appropriate to leave you the link to my husband's favorite little bit from McSweeney's (a great read, by the way):
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/25JeffreyGreenstein.html

mutleythedog said...

Never mind Ms P! It will soon be Christmas!!

Jules said...

I have had those Dwarfs around four times in the last 9 years and I refuse to have them as guests any more. Hence the tubal ligation.

Get through it just like you do with any unwanted guests. Drink, oh damn you can't. Self pity then.

Lonie Polony said...

Hello Oneear - yes, I think he's hiding out with fellow fugitive, the little-known eighth dwarf Bomby

Shisomama - couldn't get the link to work, I'm afraid. Mcsweeneys is most unccoperative :(

Hello Mutley - I think I've crossed the age threshold when that is no longer such a good thing

Jules - don't worry, I've been wallowing nicely in a huge vat of self-pity. But tying tubes...not for me I think :)