Guest Blogger: "Was it Shakespeare or the Bible?"

Well, CloakFest 2005 kicks off this week with our first Guest Blogger. Hailing from Canada, please welcome Lorna in Wonderland! Normally found at her “dailyish blog”, today Lorna shares her own tale of improbability:

Forget erotica. Just pick up a cookbook for the most sensuous experience of your life. When I read "Slowly braise the onions", I get such a rush--and I don't even eat onions. Or how about "Spread the apple butter on the chicken thighs". Nothing like it. Perverse yet hilarious.

Sort of like what happened the other day when I was at the gym, soaking wet from the shower and trying to put on pantyhose which I had foolishly brought in the gymbag to wear home because it was cold. I was really in a hurry because the fittest woman in the world, 60 if she was a day and totally buff, was in the shower and about to come out before I could get dressed. I could hear her feet on the tiles, and knew there was no jiggling as she came into the locker room, so I jammed on my jeans, left my bra where it was--stuck upside down and backwards on my waist (all you women know the drill--you put it on that way so you can do it up, then twist it around and fall into it, snapping the straps). I slammed my bare feet into my runners, stowed my gear and ran for the lobby. When I realized I had left my car keys on the locker room bench, I had no choice but to go back, casually, and get them. On my way out, reflected in all the locker room mirrors, I could see this ridiculous woman, tightass, struggling to walk in spite of the pantyhose jammed on her thighs, with a sports bra trailing out of her bag, and a not-sports bra hanging below the front of her sweatshirt, and yes, it was me. The very picture of perverse yet funny.

I had managed to comb my hair though and I think I walked with great dignity to the back seat of my car, where I stayed on the floor until all my extremities turned blue.

Vanity, thy name is Lorna, and I suffer for it, but that never seems to teach me anything. I had to touch up my nails before I could use the keyboard.

XX
—Lorna