I am in Limbo. Not in any big dramatic sort of Purgatory, but a hundred tiny
simultaneous Limboes, waiting for this, needing that to happen before I can do the
other thing. It's too early to talk to him, too late to talk to her, and I forgot
to think about them, and oh yes, am I ready for that.
In other words, I'm a bit bored at the moment, even though I know it's just a lull
between two moments of crazy business.
And just because it amuses me to realize that this is as close as I ever get to
the sort of enigmatic entry some people write every day, here for your humming-
along pleasure are the lyrics to Christine Lavin's Mysterious Woman. (The
song dates back to the 1980s -- I think she had Suzanne Vega in mind when she
wrote it.)
Mysterious Woman
Words and Music by Christine Lavin
Copyright 1988, Flip-A-Jig/Rounder Music
I want to be a mysterious woman
I want to write mysterious songs
I want everyone to wonder
what is she thinking about?
existentialism? nihilism? wrong
I am thinking about
defrosting my refrigerator
but I could get into mysterious mood
watch me ask the bartender
for a drink he cannot make
watch me order mysterious food
food even Julia Child
cannot pronounce right
from cookbooks that time has forgot
then maybe I will read
Crime and Punishment for fun
then again, maybe not
I want to be a mysterious woman
tantalize you with my come-hither stare
maybe it will work a little better
if you pretend I'm not wearing underwear
If you pretend I was never a Girl Scout
and I never learned how to twirl baton
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh
I feel a mysterious song coming on
I think I hear I scream
I think I hear ice cream
melting all over
the rock hard bread
which is stuck to
the chicken parts
long since dead
they're in a cold box
within a cold box
within a warm box
(which is my room)
there's a ceiling
there's a floor
there's a wall
there's a window
look at the moon
it's a marble, it's a button
it's a sequin, it's a polkadot
stiched into the velvet sky
the pocket of Sir Lancelot
who is riding on Pegasus
who is fighting with the Pleiades
who is fighting Cassiopeia
who is fighting with Hercules
who is fighting with Betelguex
who is fighting with the Milky Way
that is stuck to the Bird's Eye Peas
that is stuck to the ice cube tray
that is stuck to the chicken parts
that is stuck to the rock-hard bread
hey, what am I doing here? I should be home defrosting my refrigerator instead
But I want to be a mysterious woman
I hate being so easy to read
hey, bartender, give me a light yeah, a Bud light
and a plate of pommes frites
is all I need.