The Right Comeback…

Friday morning finds old friends sharing iced tea. The Divine Miss S hasn’t been seen in quite a while. It’s my fault. My vanity at Wonky Face has kept all but a handful at bay. I forgot how much I enjoy her company—and the snark we conjure together.
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the-right-comeback

This particular morning it revolves around other women—their gossip, their jabs and how one disentangles. Me—I found a cancer gift. Surgeries leaving me with nothing but time in bed and constant brain chatter considering relationships, friendships and who will be a part of the other side of healing.

Seems Divine Miss S has been considering the same after a friendship letdown. But how is it one forms the words, shelves the bad stock, and in some cases, curses someone to hell and finds them glad to get their coat.

In her case, someone took advantage. In my case, someone is positively giddy with news of my cancer. At the same moment, we say, “I wish I could just say fuck you.”

Yes, I surround myself with girlfriends un-shocked at my sailor mouth and opinions. You’d think with such a combination intact, the ability to level another, albeit with good manners, might be innate. Kind of a kill-them-with-kindness thing. Not so much. I’m much more of a cry in the car and then call Sisterella.

What I’d really like is to calmly tell a chick to bite my big fat ass in a way that she’s not exactly sure what just happened and it only strikes her later that the floor was indeed, mopped up with her. Publicly. But with me looking like the one with manners and charm. Ditto for Divine Miss S.

As we part, we resolve to figure this one out. Lo and behold, who comes up with an answer? Oprah. No kidding.

Mother’s Day finds this girl brunching with Oldest Chicken, Baby Pea, The Goddess, The Other Norwegian, Sweetest G, The Big B and their baby Coradorable. We laugh, drink mimosas (yes I did—only one and it was lovely) and eat, eat, eat. So, when I find my way home, it’s into a big chair with a binky.

Haven’t watched Oprah since the betrayal when she left the 3 p.m. slot leaving me nothing to do at teatime. This day, she chats with Maya Angelou. Where does Maya go? What is it you do when someone insults, offends or steps too far? Whaaa? Reason for everything my dolls.

What does Miss Maya say when Oprah asks, “But how do you do that? It’s one thing to think it. Its another to do it.” Seems Miss Maya escorted some people out the door of her home after a racist joke. In front of a packed house. Squee. She even asks the women, “Where is your purse. Let me get it for you.”

Maya says its courage. You don’t get courageous all at once. You learn it in little bits. Practice. Do it small first. Then do it again and again until it becomes part of your repertoire. Well, well, well. There we have it, Divine Miss S. The next time, try just a little comment. There is no need to be unkind. Just stand our ground…a little bit. And next time a little more and a little more. Think about it. I am.

Before you know it we’ll be gladiators. Olivia Pope would be proud.

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