here today

 

without a voice

Yesterday, I sounded sexy.  Like a younger Demi Moore.  Like a smoker, a lounge singer, someone you wouldn't introduce to your parents but a girl you'd show off to your friends.  I talked lots, just to hear my voice like that, all throaty and deep.

today, it's progressed from sexy to The Godfather to scratchy whispers.  when Ben talked about the party he went to last night, where he and G played bartenders and dreamed about opening their own place, I replied as Marlon Brando in my crazy deteriorating voice and told him not to worry about the teamsters, I've got them covered.  We both laughed but my laugh went from crazy to nothing and now, I can't speak. 

I've got laryngitis and it sucks.  I'm a talker.  I communicate with words.  Not with emotions like my sister, or physically like Ben.  For me, words are paramount. I don't pay attention to other signs, much.  If someone's lying, I can only tell if they put the sentences together wrong.  If there's a physical cue, I'll miss it.  So I feel paralyzed. 

I've got a birthday dinner tomorrow night.  N & her semi-famous friend to whom she's finally introducing me and here I am without my legs.  Guess there's lesson in here somewhere but I don't like it. 

 

 

Posted by: 120pages at 14:24 | link | comments (3) |