Loquacious reticence at Death's door: My inner monologue takes hostages

4:20 AM.

What a ridiculous time to be awake when one isn't having any fun.
Here I am fried out of my mind on cold medicine and bored out of my skull. It's like I am trapped in some Quay brothers film.

I fear my cold meds have decided to abandon me at my hour of need- I am sure that my once close relationship with Neo-synephrine is destined soon to be severed. Ha. Snake oil. What kind of name is that for a medication anyway? I prefer names with a punch to them. "Nostrilla" for example, or "Boniva", perfectly descriptive names for the malady they treat.

And besides, those names have have a ring to them- they could quite easily be a proper name in the south. "Well hello Countess, may I present Nostrilla and her sister Boniva?" Charming. Neo-Synephrine indeed. Neal Synephrine, Neely O'Hara-Synephrine. Oh my beautiful dolls...

*Sigh* I am practically on deaths door, (which is surprisingly less ornate in style and scale than one would imagine) in the middle of the night- well the middle for me- and literally drowning in a sea of snot and bad puns.

Why do they call it a "cold" anyway? I am actually kind of overheated, right now. Maybe they should call it "Catching the Hots" instead... no, that sounds a touch obscene...

My Grandmother, Miz Hyacinth, used to have the best remedy for a particularly nasty cold-

Directions: Drink one bottle of the absolute best champagne you have handy, repeat as needed every hour.

Caution: Exceeding recommended dosage may lead to extreme giddiness, drunk dialing, and a strong urge to break out the Mario Lanza records and flounce around the house in ones prettiest penoir until passing out.

Of course it does nothing to cure the cold, but it gives the sickness a sort of histrionic quality....

Will you sit down please? You have been flailing around like a crippled windmill all night. No I do not want to play cards- especially whist.

I was having the most perfectly lovely dream about dear Hyacinth earlier, she had all of those rather large and unnervingly half humanoid porcelain figures of the characters of the Chinese zodiac lined up like bowling pins and was trying for a strike with the King Charles spaniel. She was a firm believer in things like the zodiac- Chinese or otherwise- and at an early age she informed me that I was a Ox- because of the year I was born naturally- and given the month of my birth, December, I was a combination Sagittarius/Ox.
Great thing that, apparently.. wait, since you are up, will you go over to that cabinet and grab a few bottle of Clos du Mesnil '95 and put them on ice? There's a lamb. No, the other cabinet, the Renaissance revival piece. No that's a 17th century bonnetiere, - well, yes it it very well may be a Homme Debout but lets not split hairs about that right now. Yes the cabinet with the painting over it of the rather tubercular saint. Yes, it does look like Thomas Jefferson after a bender... Can I please continue my train of thought? You are trying to derail the choo-choo here.
So, where was I? Oh yes, my untimely demise. *sigh* I feel like the Wreck of the Hesperus. How do I look? Of course I do, I have always thought that I would have had a most promising second career as a chronic yet picturesque invalid. I suppose that sort of thing fell out of fashion after the reign of Victoria didn't it? Pity. I feel so bad maybe I should just end it all- no I am too lazy to commit suicide- passive suicide is another thing all together, death by good living and like that. Oh sure, living well can kill you. I wonder if eating "natural foods" leads to dying a natural death? hmmm, well you know even housework can kill you if you do it right.

Anyway, having your health is the thing now- what's the quote? Something about healths price is "far above rubies." What? oh. that's right. That quote is about a virtuous woman... well, you get the idea.

One of the madness that distinguishes this century from the first is it's almost universal passion for exercise and robust health. You would think that the love of sport that young men and women carry from their school days into their adult lives would wain a bit after some time on the hot pursuit of a career and marriage. One in the previous century would abandon the effort all together after their first mortgage or the birth of their first child.

Pop open a bottle will you? No glasses handy? No don't get up, we can just drink it out of these communion chalices. Hmm? yes, they are real stones- no cheap rhinestones for the for the cup that holds the blood of Christ you know. What? Yes, I suppose it is sacrilegious, but it would be worse if we were drinking a lesser vintage don't you think? What? yes it is good isn't it? Like the tears of neglected children...

Oh, speaking of the profane and muscle, did you see Father Fuque at the King's party? Yes he always looks hot. Steroids probably- yeah, me neither, whatever it takes. Hmm? Oh yes that is his photo there on the piano... Yes he does cut quite a figure in his priest garb doesn't he? What? Oh that's be behind him -under his robe. Yes, well I was pretending he was an antique camera. What a wide angle lens he has... What? Oh nothing...
You know, if I make it through the night I will see him at the gym next week I will tell him you said hello.

What to do, what to do, let's see, I have updated my address book, alphabetized the liquor bottles, found Jesus, (He was hiding behind the little French settee all the time) and created an interpretive dance to the tune of "Bei Mir Bist Du Schon" *sigh* So, where are those cards? How about a few hands of Whist?

Cheers.

Classic Champagne Cocktail
3 oz Champagne

1/3 oz cognac

2 dashes Angostura® bitters

1 tsp sugar
Soak one sugar cube in a champagne flute with angostura bitters. Add champagne and cognac. Squeeze in a twist of lemon and discard. Garnish with half a slice of orange.

Use mid-price Champagne please. If you use the good stuff to make this cocktail people will question your breeding...