This is a story about what I agitatedly call the Big 'C', that quickly deteriorated into the Big 'K.' - 'K" for Kardashian. At some point after 9 p.m. last Friday, I discovered that I was coming down with some type of conventional Miami malaise; hard and fast. The timing on this could not be worse since I am destined for female fixation surgery in two weeks. Immediate action was taken. I have my personal theory on this bloody beast of burden: rest, chicken soup and the remedial "cafe con leche con tiee-le-nol!"
Like any local familiar with Floridian flora and fauna discomforts, you know how it goes...you just have to rise above it either by hitting the Vitamin C trail, echanazia or some A thru Z bomb that sells over the counter.
This story takes a turn for the worst. Saturday morning, with nobody pointing a gun at my head, I tuned into my friendly cable channel to "Khloe and Kourtney take New York or is it Kim and Kourtney?" Hmm, I am still in a daze of K! I did it; I fell into the slippery dash slope of the Kardashian-like Valley! Like, it was serious...'
s"Faugh!" The Big 'C" inadvertently turned into the The Big 'K." There are no concise or felicitous words to describe the hours that followed. At the end of the day, I was only left with this question: "What ?"... I have discovered that I may have to recover the little grey matter unaffected by my sebaceous sinus condition. I may not reconnect in a long while with any academic circles, if discovered, as I would be labelled a "feulletoniste" inferring that I am a writer with few leaves. I am certain I lost something along the way. I acquiesced to Kris Kardashian's media feed; like painted lips on a polished 'K' Promotional Poster, I was weightless and helpless to change the channel. There I was, devoid of espirit de corps and so I watched with a curious sinus stare.
Out of these things and many more, It will suffice to say that in the non-glam world good taste forbids any excessive displays; the Big 'K" modus vivendi is unnatural to us regular folk and that is why we watch and can someone tell me how they can walk on those fashion stilts? Rush hour clearly does not apply to them...no rushing in those puppies. Them-there high heals are collectively a workers comp nightmare to any employer. If they had any type of office job the pink slip would be inevitable. With all that said, I found them entertaining and they somehow got me through two horizontal days of jammies, tissues and a truly non glamoured image. The ladies are the true "It" girls and their wing men are just that. Kudos to the entire global business...The 'K's" have it; they offered up some great bed side healing.
I, in turn, am feeling much better. I have not only released The Big 'C', but I am done with The Big 'K"...for now.
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