About me:

About me:
My name is Venimalia and I’m an Imp. What’s that, you ask? Imps are quite small, but we can pass as human if we want to. I wear high heels and everyone thinks I’m just some small woman. Except that I have yellow eyes like a cat. If I want to pass as a human, I have to wear contact lenses. I have to say, modern human technology is quite practical, but here in my realm, Imprana, we use magic. Imprana lies in a dimension parallel to the human earth and can only be entered and left by Imps.
I work as a keeper of knowledge, which means that I’m in charge of memory stones. See, we don’t have scientific books, we have magical stones that one can unlock to gain knowledge or abilities. One needs great magical powers to unlock some of these stones. Thankfully I am that. Unfortunately I’m also no more than semi-sane. At least people tell me that every time they try to find something in my collection. Personally, I think of myself as slightly eccentric, slightly plump and quite capable at my job.
So here in this blog I’m trying to give my fellow imps and all interested humans insight into my thought processes. I welcome any comments, but please don’t expect a logical-for-you answer.

July 22, 2010

The blind date incident

I joined my parents for dinner yesterday, well aware what that meant. See, an invitation to my parents’ house is never just that. It is always attached to them trying to finally get me a husband. Pretty much since I reached adulthood, they have been pestering me with their wish for a grandchild, and as the years went by, they decided to take matters in their own hand. Unfortunately, their taste in men isn’t always good (basically never, really).
Last night’s candidate was a perfect example for that. Let me give you the first impression I got: thin brown hair, waxy skin, bad posture, fidgeting, wearing a shirt with orange and white horizontal stripes that covered his slight belly and made a futile attempt at hiding his spindly legs. When he greeted me, he was so nervous, the words tumbled out of his mouth without clear order but a distinct stutter.
Not very impressive.
During dinner Hanian kept us “entertained” by telling us all about his work and how much there was of it and how little time he had to do it in. Interestingly enough, in all his anecdotes he came off as the poor hero while everyone else was just evil and out to get him. It soon became clear to me that he was fishing for complements with these stories. I don’t like people who think if they didn’t come to work every day, the world would end. Ordinarily, I would have told Hanian this in no uncertain terms, but out of respect towards my parents I merely nodded politely and swallowed all sarcastic comments with the food.
I really had every intention of sitting through dinner nice and polite, but then Hanian said something that burst through my resolve. I couldn’t help but snicker and once the dam was broken, all was lost. I broke out in peals of laughter, followed by, “Do you own a mirror?”
The rest of dinner was spent in uncomfortable silence only broken by my mothers desperate attempts to draw Hanian out of his moping. He left right after dessert and my mother spend the rest of my visit – which I kept short – with complaining about my behavior. Well, I am not sorry.
Honestly, what would you have said when someone like Hanian tells you (without trying to be funny, I might add), “I’ve got these new sunglasses. They are brown with large glasses. I took them off before I arrived here though. I didn’t want you to think I was a secret agent or something.”

No comments: