Dianne is dead
In a pile of old cards, a Christmas-Past lipstick kiss from Dianne.
I found out almost two weeks after the fact that Dianne Olsen was found dead in her apartment on Monday, February 26, 2004.
Dianne of the fabulous lips. Dianne who seduced men by a quick tongue-around those lips of hers.
Dianne of the legs. Dianne could wrap her legs around herself while holding a martini glass in one hand, a cigarette in the other hand. Most amazing of all was that the cigarette hand index finger twirled and twirled and twirled a strand of her hair. The motion almost hypnotic.
Dianne of the exquisite vintage dresses. Dianne who knew a little bit about everything but not a lot about anything.
Dianne of VCR movie obsessions. Dianne who sat two inches from the television screen to watch a movie. To break her concentration was like smashing a cement wall. No matter how hard you tried, she never once lost her focus.
Dianne of fervant opinions. Dianne who expressed outrage at everything conservative and institutional but loved luxury, prestige and a Prada clutch like no other person.
Dianne of no one now to call me Big Daddy Lar (or Liar as was often the case just because I could hoodwink her so easily).
Dianne, The Dianne, the only Dianne. Di. Dinah to her closest friends but never said in public.
Last 5 posts in JOURNAL
- 102 Canadian women will die this week - October 3rd, 2008
- Room with a view - September 27th, 2008
- On the road again, but not lost this time - September 20th, 2008
- Because I'm a wild and crazy guy... - September 13th, 2008
- But will there be cobs? - September 6th, 2008