April's Real Blog

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Long, long week

Mike, I DID confront my probs @ home. Mom an' Dad ignore me, and U do yr usual self-centred impervious non-reaction. I didn't run away, I struck out on my own. The fact that Mom an' Dad have failed 2 notice just demonstr8's that this was the rite thing 2 do.

U know what, I don't wanna talk abt Grandpa's speech therapy NEmore. I don't wanna write abt Christine having him answer questions like "R U a woman?" and "R U a man?" I don't wanna write abt her having him raise his hand in response 2 "U R a man"; "Yr name is Jim"; "U R sitting down." I don't wanna say NEthing abt how he kept his hand up so Christine got the idea that Gramps was picturing 1 of those pictograms on a men's room, so she got up, stuck her chest in his face, and called 4 an assist from Iris, who had just returned, casting shadows in disturbing ways. I don't wanna say NEthing abt all that. So I won't.

NEway, I M so loving my guest suite @ Eva's house. Totally lux, man! It is so awesome having my own lil kitchenette and no1 stealing my brekky. I can so get used 2 this.


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  • At 1:51 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…


    Formerly little sis. Running away to avoid confronting your problems, and then denying you ran away to avoid confronting your problems. I am quite pleased to see you embrace your family heritage. Your excuse is not quite as good as when Liz came back to Milborough claiming it was for homesickness, but I am sure you will grow into better excuses with age.

    Also, I am quite pleased to see that you have taken residence at a place where there is a middle-aged woman with an ethnic background, who can perform the task of surrogate mother for you, and provide you with worldly wisdom. With a name like Mrs. Abuya, you have found another ethnic winner like I did with Agnes Dingle and Lovey Saltzman, and the Lizardbreath did with Ruby Andrews and Vivian Crane. You will love the pearls of wisdom which will roll off her lips unbidden to answer your every problem and need. I did have the Corbeil office of the Johnston Institute for Better Living forward off to her the list of responsiblities in their booklet called, “So You’ve Let a Patterson Move In: A Survival Guide”

    I can’t wait until your Blog entries are filled with Mrs. Abuya wisdom. It will be a welcome change from your discussion about Grandpa Jim needing to go to the washroom during his speech therapy session. You don’t want to talk about it and only your most dedicated readers would be willing to read it. I am sure they are waiting for some good Mrs. Abuya wisdom. I know I am. I miss all the little things Lovey Saltzman used to say.

    Michael Patterson

  • At 2:37 PM, Blogger howard said…


    Yesterday, we had a little incident at Becky’s mom, Krystle’s bakery. Becky has been working a little there so she can flirt with the hot new baker guy, Javier. I was sitting back and relaxing while Becky went to work. She is planning for a summer tour with Mizz Candy Rapper to promote their duet single Smarter Than You Foobs Think and she has to get those sexy moves into shape for her stage work.

    While I was sitting there, who should happen to appear but your grandpa Jim’s speech therapist, Christine. She spotted me and recognized me from when I used to work at the Milborough Seniors’ Living Palace. She said, “Howard Bunt. I thought you were in prison.” I said, “Acquitted, due to gross incompetence on the part of the legal system.” Christine said, “It’s good to have you back in town. Are you available?” I said, “No. My fiancée is working the counter.” Christine said, “That’s too bad. We haven’t had an available gay man in Milborough in awhile and with the straight men you can never tell how old they are. When I treat someone at the Milborough Seniors’ Living Palace, I can’t tell if they are there because they are old or just look old, so many of the men are so lusty.” I said, “I heard you were treating Jim Richards there.” Christine said, “Randy old man. He looks like he’s in his 80s, but he is probably in his 40s.” I said, “I believe he is 86.” Christine said, “Really? You wouldn’t know it from his leering and ogling.”

    Christine appeared to be distracted and then she said, “Is your name Howard Bunt? Are you sitting down? Are you a woman or are you a man?” I said, “What’s with the questions?” Christine said, “Well, your fiancée is flirting with the baker and he’s drooling over her. If I were a man and not a woman, I would get up from sitting down and tell her off.” I said, “Becky and I have an understanding.” Christine said, “Really? So it’s OK with you she’s flirting with that guy?” I said, “Perfectly fine.” Christine said, “And if someone were to flirt with you that would be fine?” I said, “Yes.” I was about to add, “As long as it’s a guy.” but Christine interrupted and said, “Let’s test that out.” So she got up, stuck her chest in my face, and called over to Becky and said, “Becky?!!!”

    I think Becky saw us, but I am not sure since my face was buried in Christine’s chest. However, I heard Becky’s voice saying to Christine, “Hey! Get your chest off him. That’s my Howie.” Christine said, “But you’re flirting with the baker.” Then Becky pulled out a frying pan (where she hides those on her body I’ll never know), and started chasing Christine around the restaurant threatening to hit her with it until she left.

    Afterwards, Becky said, “Howie you’re helpless without me. Almost as helpless as an old man who needs a walker to get to the washroom, and someone’s moved the walker.” I told her she was right. Saved by my bud, once again.

    Howard Bunt

  • At 2:54 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    shut up, mike.

    howard, i wonder how often christine uses that boobs-in-the-face flirtation technique. not v. subtle, eh?


  • At 3:21 PM, Blogger howard said…


    I haven't observed Christine enough to be able to say how often she uses her chest flirtation as part of her speech therapy technique. She does have a lot of perfume there, so she might get an olfactory reaction from some of her patients who can't speak very well, and maybe that makes up for a lack of subtlety. With most old men, you don't need to be too subtle, as you know.

    Howard Bunt

  • At 5:57 PM, Anonymous Eva Abuya said…

    My mother answered the door this afternoon and found there was a messenger delivering this booklet, “So You’ve Let a Patterson Move In: A Survival Guide.” She flipped through it, and then got on the intercom and asked me to come down to the main foyer.

    Mom was like, "Eva. I thought April Patterson was our guest. I have no problem with your friends staying over as guests, but I'm not allowing them to move in, and I'm certainly not becoming one of those Patterson surrogate parents." I told her that April's a guest, but that her brother got all kinds of weird ideas. My mother said, "Well, from what I've heard about Michael Patterson, I shouldn't be surprised if that's true. But I don't want to take any chances. April can stay over again tonight, but I'm afraid she has to go back home tomorrow."

    Sorry, Apes. Oh, and Mike? My mother does not have an "ethnic background," unless you count "Canadian of Anglo-Saxon descent" as "ethnic." You might be thinking of my Dad, who is Nigerian.


  • At 5:58 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    oh, thanx a lot mike. u ruined everything.


  • At 6:47 PM, Anonymous Michael Patterson said…


    Formerly little sis. I’ve ruined everything? Pish and tosh. The mistake is yours for ignoring family tradition.

    You moved in with a middle-aged woman who didn’t have an ethnic background, at least I don’t think Anglo-Saxon counts as ethnic. An ethnic middle-aged lady would have embraced you and tried to give you the wisdom of her ethnicity, no matter what booklets they may have read. They become the mother figure you need in your far off land away from home. You become the perfect, decent, white child they could never have, because of their ethnicity. It’s an excellent tradeoff.

    Imagine the fun you could have had when you got sick, and were given home remedies as cures as my son did with Lovey Saltzman. Imagine the joy you could have known when you found your landlady drunk as a skunk and telling the stories of her marriage and immigration to Canada, as Weed and I did with Agnes Dingle. Imagine having someone cook you food so good you couldn’t imagine it was possible to eat something so delicious after years of having mom’s “Sploit” soup. All those things can be yours when you move out of the house, but you have to follow the rules of the family tradition. She must be ethnic.

    Don’t blame me for your mistakes. I lived with Agnes Dingle. I lived with Lovey Saltzman. I’ve paid my ethnic dues. If you aren’t living with me or mom, then you have ethnic dues to pay.

    Michael Patterson

  • At 7:24 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mike. hm, so u mess things up 4 me, and then u blame ME and say it's my OWN fault b/cuz of "ignoring family tradition." yeah, that's pretty typical of our family traditions in itself, isn't it? and pretty lousy. i'm thinking the more i distance myself from the family and its "traditions," the better.


  • At 8:25 PM, Anonymous Honoria Delaney-Forsythe said…


    Dearest future sister. I have had the most exciting afternoon.

    First I went after school to the Shakespeareworks’ Theatre to see my Jeremy flower, hard at work fixing the sound and lights for the portable theatre. When I got there, I saw my Jeremy flower, relaxed and sitting in a chair and watching the rehearsal. He said, “Look at this, Honoria.” He pointed at Eva Abuya playing Titania from A Midsummer’s Night Dream roping and tackling some boy in a horse head, whom I supposed was playing Bottom. Then Eva jumped on the boy and started “embracing” him vigourously. Jeremy was giggling to himself. He said, “It’s so awful, it’s hysterical.”

    As we watched, I snuggled up to my Jeremy flower and giggled along with him, in a discrete, ladylike way, of course. The young man with the horse head on, started waving his hands around a lot and the director started yelling at Eva to let him go, because he obviously needed to go to the men’s washroom. Eva said, “That varmint goes to the washroom every time I tackle him. Why does his character have to be called ‘Bottom’ anyway? I would prefer a character like ‘Washboard Abs’.” The guy took off his horse head and said, “Anyone may blame me who likes, but I am not doing this anymore. I am taking off for good. I think she cracked one of my ribs. I’m a man, not an animal.” Then he left. Then the director said, “Eva. You have to take it easy on him.” And Eva said, “Don’t worry. Once I give him a good smirk and he gets a look at my breasts, he’ll be back. Breasts can work miracles, even cause mute people to be able to speak again, or so I’ve heard.”

    Jeremy thought the whole thing was so funny; I had to put my hand over his mouth to get him to stop. Then he started to wave his hand around a lot and I said, “Need to go to the washroom?” When I took my hand away he was gasping and said, “No. My nose is stopped up, and when you had your hand on my mouth I couldn’t breathe.” I said, “Why aren’t you working on the lights and sound?” And Jeremy said, “Because I finally got them to work.” I said, “Congratulations. Let’s celebrate.” And I started kissing him, but before too long he was waving his hands again and I said, “Oh, sorry. I forgot about your nose.”

    We stepped outside to go home and Jeremy took me to his motorcycle to ride me home. I love riding behind Jeremy, because it’s like snuggling the whole time in public, and a girl doesn’t have to appear ladylike when she is practising a safe riding technique. We started on the road, but then we ran into a lot of traffic. All the cars were backed up and we couldn’t see what was going on. Some of the people got out of the cars to look. Jeremy said to a man, “What’s going on?” The man said, “I think it must be some kind of protest by the silhouette people. There’s a giant shadow coming this way.” Another man said, “I looks kind of like Gumby , except all black.” A lady said, “No. It’s a washroom sign man.” The first man said, “It’s not one of those. Their bodies go straight up and down. This one has arms and legs out to the side.” Yet another man said, “It think it’s Jet Jaguar coloured in black.” I said, “Who?” The man said, “Jet Jaguar from Godzilla vs. Megalon. The arms go out like Jet Jaguar when he’s flying.” The lady said, “Couldn’t it be the washroom sign man doing jumping jacks?” The first man said, “You don’t do jumping jacks when you need to go to the washroom.”

    Jeremy said to me, “Whatever it is, it’s coming this way.” The people around us started screaming, “Don’t get us, washroom sign man!” and they were running about trying to find a hiding place. Jeremy got on his motorcycle and I got on behind him. We started riding between cars and tried to avoid hitting the people running in fear. For whatever reason, the giant black creature started heading right after us. We got past the majour traffic and Jeremy said to me, “I know a back way. Let’s see if this thing can walk through a forest.”

    Jeremy curled into a forest and started driving in between trees. I grabbed him very tightly, and I was afraid any second we would run into a tree, and it wouldn’t matter if the giant, black washroom sign man got us. I didn’t look behind us, but I could tell from the sounds of limbs breaking, the washroom sign man was right behind us. The trees weren’t slowing him down one, tiny bit.

    Jeremy pulled out of the forest and said to me, “That didn’t work, but we are really close to your house. I’m going to pull over, let you off, and then I will try to lead it away from civilization using my bike.” I said, “No Jeremy. Don’t try to sacrifice yourself.” As Jeremy pulled up close to my house, I could tell Mater had spotted the giant black creature following us, because she started screaming in that high-pitched way that humans can’t hear, but we Delaney-Forsythes and several well-bred dog species can hear. I said to Jeremy, “Mater has seen the creature. She’ll tell Pater. They’ll handle this awful creature.” Jeremy said, “How is that? By offering to psychoanalyze it, or get it on a low calorie diet?” I said, “Never underestimate a Delaney-Forsythe!”

    Jeremy pulled up to my house and was letting me off, when Mater shrieked, “Stand back. That hideous black thing is not going to pollute my lawn.” Mater had out her industrial strength white wash, and was wearing her all white, painters outfit. Pater said, “Yahoo colour sprayer ready, Melanie.” Mater said, “Full speed ahead with the Yahoo colour, Aloysius.” Then from Mater’s sprayer came a stream of whitewash which almost instantly covered the creature from head to foot in white.” Jeremy said, “All that’s going to do is make it mad.” But my Jeremy flower was wrong. The creature collapsed and seeping out of the sides of the creature was a lovely blue, so the creature looked like a white silhouetted washroom sign man on a blue background.

    Mater said, “The Yahoo colour sprayer has saved us again, Aloysius.” Pater said, “Yes, Melanie. If it weren’t for that Yahoo colour sprayer, we wouldn’t have a prayer of understanding what was going on in our world.” Jeremy said, “You know what’s going on with a washroom sign man appearing out of nowhere?” Pater said, “Well, Jeremy. No. But, at least when he’s white on a blue background, we know he’s a washroom sign man. When he was just black, it was a mystery.”

    The police came by to pick up the remains of the giant creature and Mater very proudly told her story, and I told the story about my Jeremy flower’s bravery, although I did have to stop calling him Jeremy flower briefly, since they thought “Flower” was his last name. Mater and Pater were so impressed with my Jeremy flower, they invited him to have dinner with us. I told Mater and Pater all about Jeremy’s plan to lead the washroom sign man away from civilization and how he fixed the sound and lights at the Shakespeareworks’ Theatre. Mater was quite excited. She said, “Maybe Jeremy would like to work the sound and lights at the Dutch tulip festival the Delaney-Forsythes sponsor every year. We always have difficulty with that.” I said to Mater, “Exactly my thought.” Mater beamed at me. And the best of all, Jeremy said he would do it, if it didn’t interfere with his work at the Koolhaus.” Things could not be better, even though Jeremy said the celery soup we had for supper was not very filling.

    I don’t mean to ignore you, dearest future sister, and your problems in my excitement. I, for one, am happy you are moving out of Eva Abuya’s house. She doesn’t like my brother, Gerald. Gerald says it’s because Eva wants to be in charge of your band, and it’s what happens when you name a band after someone. After you move out of Eva’s house, I hope you don’t move far away, because then you would be a long distance from Gerald, and I don’t think he has the fortitude for a long distance relationship. He’s not very good at even a short distance relationship. It doesn’t seem like I am being a very good friend to you, am I? It’s just that I have spent a long time away from my parents, and I didn’t like it very much. I am sure you will make the right decision, but I hope it is not one which takes you away from my brother.

    Honoria Delaney-Forsythe

  • At 8:42 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    honoria, thanx 4 xxplaining what happed w/the weird stick-figure looking guy. there was sumthing on 2nite's news abt that, but frankly the reporting was v. shoddy and it was hard 2 understand.

    don't worry, i'm not going far. after school 2morrow, i'm prolly gonna stop by the house, get sum more of my things, and then go over 2 gramps and iris's apt.



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