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Friday, January 10, 2014

Guest Blog Post By Allie Hunwicks



Dear Reader, the following exchange and subsequent fan fiction were inspired by the above photo and it's caption. Sometimes the world moves under your feet and you have to move with it. The captions reads "As with all my pets, I gently bit each kitten on the face. This is how I let my animals know that I am now their mother."

Me: HOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHIT. Famous people are really and truly crazy. I am going to do this to [my cat] tonight and I will then call you from the hospital. Question: Where on the face?

Allie: I am equally enthralled with the grinning woman in the background. Is she Martha's cat-holder?   

Me: Yes. Only aging southern belles with Valium addictions need apply. It’s like the Air Canada staff.


Allie: Imagine...

You are an Air Canada flight attendant. Your route has been from Toronto to Vancouver and back. Countless, endless times. You long for the excitement that you had always dreamed would come from this job; not a cross country stint that any junior attendant could handle. You are Sheila Bloye - Air Canada flight attendant since 1984,  yellow-gold perm, and your signature dusty rose lipstick ("Falling Again") just recently applied. The thought makes you smile; just a little. As you're rifling through your purse for a pre-flight Valium, Craig (the newest member of your team, Asian, and gay) comes running up to the boarding gate. He is out of breath. "Sheila," he pants, "Oh. MY. GOD." And then he hands it to you. The Thing that you have been waiting for your entire life. It comes in a cream envelope, heavy weight stationary with just a faint peach border embossed on the edges, a whiff of lavender and mint rising with heady promise from the page. "Dear Sheila," you read aloud, barely stifling a girlish giggle that you cannot help rising to your lips, "It is with great pleasure that I invite you..." and you don't even need to read on. Craig is clutching your hands and shrieking with ecstatic pleasure and you realize that for the first time in years you are crying hot, happy tears of joy and dancing, foolishly but gleefully because you know it's the moment you've been waiting for your whole life. You grin cockily, and run your thumb down the edge of the enclosed one-way ticket to Bedford, New York, "Craig," you purr, "get my cat gloves ready, 'cause Mama's headin' to the big time!"

And so begins the long-awaited biography of Sheila Bloye, the most famous of all of Martha's cat-handlers and the woman who made the job a lusted after occupation the world over!

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