Writers are scavengers. We mine our families for stories. We take no prisoners. So, today, when my best friend PG announced I could write about her – anything about her – my synapses almost short-circuited with the possibilities. My best friend is a lesbian lawyer make-up artist who wears sparkly cons, collects humans like other people collect stamps and talks about labia more than any other person that ever graced this labia-laden universe. She’s an enigma wrapped in a paradox, dipped in sequins.
There’s so much material I’m frozen with which avenue to take. A path diverged in a wood and I, I came face to face with a big, sequinned, blush brush brandishing dyke clearly on the path less travelled by. And what a joy it’s been to tag along for the ride.
So, for now, I shall mine that part of her that believes in aliens and zombies and doomsday prophecies. Yes, a beautifully made up lawyer who speaks to aliens in her sleep and worries about the end of the world. Fascinating, no? At least she’ll look amazing when the end is nigh. She’s actually hosting an end of the world party on December 21st. This will combine all of her loves and will no doubt be one of the most satisfying nights of her entire life: party food (my friend loves to eat and has killer curves to prove it), gin, tequila shots and cocktails, sparkly clothes and jewellery, make up and fake lashes, PEOPLE, zombies, doomsday stories, and possibly the actual end of the world. Sounds like a party to me. Of course, it would need nakedness and labia flashing for it to be a perfect PG party, but you can’t rule that out in PG land; anything is possible. Trust me, I’ve witnessed it.
So how does a sensible lawyer type get to believing in zombies and the end of the world? I’m not sure. We might have to ask her, but when you think about the fact that aliens visit her at night (she’s so convinced of this, and when added to the lawyerly ability to persuade, it’s hard not to go with it) and that she was brought up by a slightly eccentric, extremely creative mother, has a vivid imagination and a propensity for watching scary movies, I can see how the whole zombies-are-coming-to-get-me thing came to pass.
She told me very earnestly the other day that she might as well eat cake because the zombies are coming in December. Hmmm. The zombies are coming, we better eat cake. Sounds like the desperate ploy of a dieting woman to me. And we did eat cake. And it was good. And now we wait – for the zombies and the end of world. A little bit fatter, but perhaps better prepared. One cannot possibly fight zombies when one is skinny. Zombie fighting requires gravitas, good make up, possibly some help from alien beings from another galaxy, and of course, sequins.
May (the sparkly) Force be with us.