Ms. Grito, our usually fearless superhero, struck down by a fright-inducing monster, cowered on the floor, rendered powerless, her lifeforce slowly draining. All seemed lost until her teammates and her surrogate son came to her aid. With great care and loyalty, they tended to her wounds and carried her off to safety.
As she recovered her strength, yet another blow struck. Under the cover of night’s darkness, an unseen foe launched a poison arrow into Ms. Grito, missing her heart by mere inches. Then, like a bolt of lightning, an unlikely defender appeared to serve as a shield. Mysterio had returned. He came with an antidote for the poison and restrained Ms. Grito from taking her revenge on the cowardly attacker, more than likely the traitorous PseudoBerger.
DJs have saved my life. They can also, apparently, injure me. But who knew a vet could save a human life? Cute Vet was on instant messenger last night and I do believe it was providential. He would think that strange and maybe even corny but I honestly believe he was in the right place(if a cyberplace) at the right time. If he hadn’t been chatting with me, I might have launched an email assault felt round the world. My recent foe chose to play the coward and speak his piece online, hence the nickname PseudoBerger. The name alludes to the insecure jerk Carrie Bradshaw dated before he dumped her via Post-It. At least I never went out with this particular immature idiot, this poco hombre who made me out to be Helen of Troy only to regret it.
Still, it’s cool to have gained new respect for Cute Vet. We have somehow maintained communication over the years. We chat every now and then. I don’t know that I can call him a friend but I now know he is an ally. We joked about my murderous rage but he has no idea how angry I could have become. His presence last night and constant wit actually kept me from getting too enraged or upset. PseudoBerger owes him big time.
The reason for PseudoBerger’s punk move? Fear. I may be scared of things but I’m no coward. PseudoBerger, on the other hand, fears himself, me, my brother. Who, if he were a man, puts his heart on a plate, then asks for it back? I don’t have the time or energy to wait for an infant to crawl. I was full-grown in my mama’s womb. No cute kid with a knack for flowery flattery is worth that effort. Let him recant his words to me. I will move past them onto greater men.
So I continue to intimidate boys. So I’m stressed and hormonal and way too hard on myself. But I feel great this morning. Ms. Grito lives.
*In addition to Cute Vet, I have to send much love to the Bride and Lisabet for their unconditional and infinite love for me and to Izzy, the best child a maternal fruit fly could have. I have the greatest friends in the world.