Comes a time in every woman’s life, she needs a new ringtone.
My current one – “Lady Madonna” – was no longer doing it for me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hearing Paul McCartney singing about me, children at my feet, wondering how I’ll manage to make ends meet. But after a few months, one needs a break, even from the Beatles.
So with my techno-saavy sister back in town, I had an opportunity to make some changes in my ringtone life.
We spent an hour scrolling through her iTunes library, and only got to “G.”
“I can’t take this anymore,” I protested, “I don’t even recognize any of these bands.”
(And while we’re on the subject, is it a crime that I can’t tell the Black Keys from the White Stripes from the Flaming Lips? I think they should all conjoin and call themselves the Flaming White Keys.)
But we preserved through “H” and I called off the dogs.
“That’s it” I shrieked, “Perfect,”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, feeling very satisfied with myself.
And so it was that the next morning, while hosting a playdate, my phone rang and the whole room was treated to a rousing verse of “Celebrity Skin” by Hole.
“When I wake up in my makeup
It’s too early for that dress
Wilted and faded somewhere in
I’m glad I came here with your pound of flesh
No second billing, ‘cause you’re a star now
Oh Cinderella, they aren’t sluts like you ----“
And that’s when I decided to change the ringtone. I mean, its just a matter of time before Primo asks me what a
“slut” is, and then what the hell do I say? Not the kind of gender roles I’m striving to impart here in the old homestead.
And really, when you get right down to it, its been a long time since I woke up too early for these sweatpants.
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