Quote of the day
Texas’ own troublemaking populist writer Molly Ivins, who died yesterday of breast cancer:
“I still believe in Hope – mostly because there’s no such place as Fingers Crossed, Arkansas.”
Fare thee well, Molly. And now, on with our blog.
Music Class season is upon us again. That sentence there? Code for: Oh my god we get to go be in the same room with MISS ELSA again, once a week, why can’t it be more, I wonder what else she teaches? Miss Elsa is upon us again. You know, in our minds.
Rocky, Melissa and I all have crushes on Rocky’s and Evander’s music teacher. We all go skipping gaily down the hill to the music center, beaming smiles on our faces, hearts all aflutter. Oh, Miss Elsa – how she blinds the senses with her brilliant sunshine smile! She is so beautiful, so sexy, that I have to look down the whole time or she’ll see my dopey grin. As soon as we get in the door, Melissa and I whisper in unison, “Rocky, go give Miss Elsa a hug hello!” and then we watch the little sprout run over there and throw herself gleefully into Miss Elsa’s outstretched arms. Her long, lean, femininely-muscled arms. Rocky snuggles up to her, kisses her on the cheek, gazes happily into Miss Elsa’s big blue eyes. And Melissa and I stand there, wishing WE were two.
The other mothers shuffle in with their arms full of gear and children. Their kids all sit down politely. Ours? Running as hard and fast as they can in circles and circles and circles all around the room. Miss Elsa said they could. But then she floats over to the piano and settles herself lightly down at the keys, and begins to plunk out the opening tune. “Hello, everybody, so glad to see you!” and the children and mothers all start to sing along, welcoming each child by name: “Hello, to Sophie, so glad to see you! Hello, to Rocky, so glad to see you!” She sings hello to the mommies, hello to Miss Elsa, hello to the music. Then, still singing, she bounces over to the circle and starts singing hello to her body parts. Merciful Heaven.
“Hello, to our nose! So glad to see you!” – tapping her nose. “Hello, to our shoulders . . . Hello, to our fingers . . . ” and all of the harried, exhausted moms are supposed to sing along and do all the movements, and they’re sort of slumped over like god, lets just get music class over with. But Melissa and me, we’re over here wiggling our toes and tapping our hands on our knees, energetically doing everything Miss Elsa does, her most eager students. I’d even sing Hokee-Dinkum if she told me to. I’m hooked. Completely, utterly in lust with Rocky’s music teacher.
“Hello, to our tummies,” she sings, and she rubs her hand in a circle on her Bo-Flexed abs. I quietly hum along. Hello, to your cleavage, I hum. So glad to see you.
And now it’s time for . . . the Miss Elsa Outfit Report!
Soft, off-white close-fitting long-sleeve shirt. Jeans that gently hug her small, perfectly round, luscious squeezable bouncing little . . . frame. Leather shoes – leather! I TOLD you! A wristwatch with a leather – leather! – band. And a discreet leather bracelet, worn on her left wrist. Hey, Miss Elsa! I wear mine on the right! See? See? See see see? OK, so her bracelet is PINK leather. I don’t know what that means, and I’m not going to think about it any more.
Miss Elsa is, as always, wearing her straight (I mean, not curly) hair down, long, golden locks spilling over her shoulders. She has on just a little makeup – not enough so you’d really notice it, and certainly not the black liner and shiny plum lipstick she wears when she goes out to the Austin lesbian bars. Uh, Austin lesbian bars, Blue? Oh, you mean, the Rainbow Cattle Company? Uh huh. I bet Miss Elsa gets LOTS of clients there. You know, for her dominatrix . . . ing. And she can put back a Lonestar and get a little two-stepping in, too.
Well, that’s the Miss Elsa post for the week. Tune in next week for a new Outfit Report, and all-new puddles of drool to slip and fall on.