Our friend Sabo turned us on to The Vicar of Dibley awhile ago and Katr and I are hooked. Oh, how I love it. When we get our basset hound, we will be naming her Dibley.
I am a little infatuated with Dawn French (naked at left) who, for those who have not seen the way of the Lord, plays the titular (ha ha) Vicar. I remember a time not so very long ago when I, as a creampuff, was trying to rectify some fat-related self-esteem issues. I began to keep my eye out for fat people I thought were sexy, hoping to figure out their secret. I was sitting with my friend Mach in a downtown courtyard one day when I spotted a very attractive fat girl and I pointed her out to Mach as a "sexy fat person". Ever wise, Mach said to me "Oh, Roro. There are no such thing as "sexy fat people" or "sexy thin people". There are "sexy people" and "unsexy people". Deal."
Mach is right. And Dawn French is the proof. Because Dawn French is hot. I hear she likes the dick and good thing too; it saves Katr and I from having to fight over who "gets her". If I ever get around to populating my "fantasy fling freebies" list with anyone besides Gina Torres, Dawn French will be on it. Why don't I just do that now? Excuse me.
Roro's Freebies List
1. Gina Torres
2. Dawn French
So anyway - we were watching The Vicar of Dibley the other day and as we reached the end of the disk, I said to Katr "My friend Angr was training in Boston to become an Anglican priest. I haven't talked to her in nearly 10 years. I wonder what she's up to?"
Angr and I went through junior high and high school together. She was a delightful and unlikely combination of spiritedly fun and highly practical. I have many great memories of Angr, but two that come to mind are:
a) once, when I was marvelling (in a teen angsty way) at a smear of blood on my hand derived from a too-much-fussed with hangnail, Angr made a clucking noise, rolled her eyes, licked her thumb, grabbed my hand, vigorously rubbed the blood off, gave me back my clean hand and said "There. Better?"; and
b) when anyone ever said "You can't do that!" to Angr, she would say "Watch me."
In today's modern world, answers to life's burning questions are often just a google away. And so I googled my friend Angr and discovered that not ONLY is she an Anglican priest, but she's an Anglican priest at a church right here in downtown Toronto! So I wrote her a little note (with a PEN, people), addressed the envelope to her care of her church and dropped it in the mailbox today. And then I started to panic. Because I remember Angr fondly - but what if she doesn't remember me the same way?
I am particularly sensitive to this issue because earlier this week, I nearly ran into a woman I went to university with. I had fondly supposed that this babe had moved to the other side of the country with the man of her dreams who we all heard about incessantly. She often used Sheryl Crow songs to illustrate critical elements of their relationship. It was harsh. Anyway, I nearly ran into her and my brain said "Oh, look, it's X! I should say hi!" and my body said "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" and I took off up the stairs like aliens were threatening to probe my anus.
I'm hoping that Angr doesn't have a similar reaction - her flock might get concerned if their priest took off at a run, covering her ass and screaming about aliens. Because I remember her fondly, I'm also hoping that she's one of those "we love the gays!" Anglicans. Finally, I hope she remembers me at all.
I confided in my friend Chgi about my vague fears regarding Angr (who he remembers fondly as well)and he just laughed. "Roro," he said, "she's a PRIEST. It's her JOB to be all open and stuff!" "Hey," I said to him, "you're totally right! I mean, if I track her down and ask her for tea, what's she going to say? NO?" And then we laughed and laughed. Oh, good times.
So Angr, if you get my note and you're reading this, I remember you fondly. And I'm a big lesbian. And I hope we can have some tea.
