On Marielle’s Birthday

On Marielle’s Birthday, she thinks she might look back on this day and think of it as The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted. Or not. She has to watch her blood sugar, after all.

Maybe it will be the day she purchases The Golden Bowl? Or perhaps a pewter one. A mercury glass vase? She needs something for cut flowers.

For a few reasons the whole day might be a real Catch-22.

Marielle’s Birthday could be the day she explores Bleak House. It’s kind of a gargantuan house, so she might have to carry on roaming it for a week or so. She might end up absorbed and really enjoy it.

On this day, she might try to find Ulysses on match dot com. She wonders about his profile. It could be long and complex; hard to read. But maybe he likes to explore places, talk about food? The date, if she finds him, could seem endless.

Marielle, on her birthday, could drink a few celebratory martinis, or not. She could possibly find The Thin Man on tinder. But he and Nora could still be pretty tight.

On her birthday, should Marielle show her hand and put her Cards on the Table? Or keep the Secret of the Chimneys?

But one thing is pretty certain. At least she hopes it is. And that’s that she sees no bodies, or cut up body parts, out her Rear Window. Plus these are the suburbs, and if there are any bodies, they can’t be seen through the fences. Anyway, it’s improper, to say the least, to peer at your neighbors through their windows.

On her birthday, or any other day, if Marielle witnesses a murder, she will surely dial M, for Murder, that is. If she contracts Vertigo, she’ll call her doctor right away, but she won’t drive to see him.

If nothing else, Marielle will spend some time in a park watching The Birds. She might count the varieties she sees, or just casually enjoy. She’s  quite the amateur expert. If one can be both an amateur and an expert on something at the same time. Marielle doesn’t know.

On her birthday, Marielle thinks she could head to Washington Square. She needs some more scented soaps, some new lingerie, maybe a new dress or two. It really is a great shopping mall. And she’ll want those things if she does find Ulysses and he turns out to be hot.)

There’s always the chance, at least in Marielle’s daydreams, that she could meet The Count of Monte Cristo, or some other count, prince or duke. No more doing windows or cleaning toilets for Marielle. No way. And her dishwasher is busted. So annoying. Many women don’t want to be rescued, so to speak, by a man. But Marielle’s old fashioned. It would be a-okay with her.

On Marielle’s Birthday, she would like for the sky to be blue. No clouds. Not one shade of grey, let alone Fifty Shades of Grey, thank you very much.

One thing is certain, when Marielle looks at all those dating sites, she will not look for Jude the Obscure, Harry the Unknown, or Clyde the Jailbird. Neither does she want Christopher the Famous or William the Well Known. She just wants a regular guy, unless of course, it’s the aforementioned prince, count, or duke. She’d make exceptions for them.

* Marielle knows there might need to be a Part 2 to this post. She’s nothing if not long winded. And right now, she really needs a shower. She’s lounged in bed a little too long. She will surely return soon. She just might be a little Rebellious Hazelnuts.