Monday, May 19, 2008

Margaret Atwood Uses Drama Clean Shampoo

I'm at a point in my life where I don't believe happiness is possible. I don't believe success is possible. Don't even ask me for a poached egg.

Maybe it's this process of thesis writing. I'd love to be Heather Horton, alone in the country in a fieldstone house. Instead I'm in downtown Toronto in an apartment advertised for its proximity to Chicago: "Only 1,200 Clicks Away!"

Does anyone even know who Heather Horton is? I can see her illustrating a Lisa Moore book. "That's good Heather, but can you open her wrists just a bit more? Yeah, just a bit more. Can you put in some sinew? Yeah, that's good."

Maybe this is my polysyndeton phase. That doesn't really work for a thesis: "And then Frank Davey wrote Canadian Literary Power and it was published with a Canada Council grant and how he got the grant I do not [no contractions allowed] know and how I'll get the grant he doesn't know and he's [fuck that] much shorter in person."

Yesterday I was in a Shoppers at Yonge and Marlborough--deep in the heart of Rosedale--and I saw Margaret Atwood buying shampoo. I guess she was out of egg whites and mayonnaise. And I eyed her. For some reason Atwood is my enemy. I'm like Saul Bellow trying to unseat Howard Fast. And I don't even write fiction. But, god, if I were as talented as Vincent Lam...

And she bought Herbal Essences. It was Herbal Essences in a new, curved bottle. I know because I swooped in after her and bought the same shampoo. I bought eight bottles, just so I wouldn't look conspicuous. (I'm including the link to the HE website just in case any grad student's reading this. I know you wash your hair with bar soap. Really, you think I don't know what Irish Spring smells like?)

It was the name of the shampoo that got me: Drama Clean. Fitting, right. I'm a bit dramatic. Queen--not so much. (I'm much more of a Papa. Only I don't own a gun.) But Drama Clean shampoo for Canada's Drama Queen writer. And I didn't even know you washed wigs.

I figure it'll get worse from here. And what better outlet than a blog no one reads. Although I am getting interest from Douglas Gibson. He thinks I sell bowties. I told him I don’t use prepositions outside of academic writing. It spoils the pace. He said, “Fine, just as long as you’ve got one with polka dots.”

And Heather Horton's got talent. That's no joke.

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