Can you hear that?

Oh, don't tell me you can hear it: it's a silent scream. Maybe you could hear it, if you have hearing like a bat, as an ex-boss of mine used to claim. She was a little scary, actually. She managed the temp agency where I worked in Boston, and hid, beneath a wide and expensive smile, a whiplash temper. I have no proof, but I feel that she inspired the character of Dolores Herbig, the cheerfully twisted manager on Dead Like Me.

And... where was I?

Right. Silent scream.

You still can't hear it, can you? But believe me, I am still screaming. In silence.

The reason for my scream is tripartite, but primarily owing to the continued nonarrival of my Dangerous Shoes. The second fork of the trident of malaise is the nonarrival of the dress I ordered to wear to Anthony and Lara's wedding. I love this dress, and even though in person it is sure to disappoint (based on my assumption that it will not fit me like it does the six-foot, 30-pound model wearing it in the catalog), I hold out hope that it will transform me into a reasonable facsimile of Shalom Harlow.

I did receive a message about the Dress of Hope, telling me that I could follow its progress toward me on the UPS website. Unable to resist that fascinating proposal, I clicked on the link and found that my dress is currently residing in a place called Maumee, Ohio, 2,383.6 miles away (see illustration).

ILLUSTRATION

Do you see how far away my dress is? That�s right: 2,386.6 miles away. Maybe it�ll stop to pick up my shoes on the way.

My third prong of despair relates to the fact that the woman who cut my hair was apparently looking to pay tribute to the lead singer of the band Mr. Big. I don�t know his name, and I don�t want to, but I saw him in a commercial for a CD compilation of power ballads, and recognized a kindred hair spirit. I should just give up and go full-on mullet, a Spandex jumpsuit and I don�t know, roller skates. I�m drawing a blank on the footwear habits of hair band members, but it doesn�t matter, because whatever it is, I�d have to order it, and it would NEVER ARRIVE.

And� I�m taking a cleansing breath. Perspective. Is this really such a big deal? What�s the worst that could happen? (These are all questions that I imagine a therapist would ask me, so I�m asking them of myself and passing the savings on to you.) Let go and let God! (My mother made me go to Alateen when I was a kid, and that�s the only thing that stuck.) (Note: she made me go because my father was an alcoholic, not me. That came later.)

In the interest of keeping the faith, I am turning to the newest icon of faith, which I will call La Madonna de Chocolate (see illustration):

ILLUSTRATION

She was discovered by a kitchen worker, who stated, �For me, it was a sign.� She doesn�t state what kind of sign, so I�m going to infer it reads either SLOW or DEAD END. Because really: have all the faith you want, but if the mother of Christ wants to talk to us, she probably shouldn�t take the form of something that looks like the remnants backstage at a dog show. (No diss, Mary, if you�re reading.) The kitchen worker goes on to say that she�d been questioning the existence of God lately, owing to some personal problems, but that the Chocolate Madonna has renewed her faith. And Hallelujah to that! I love these folks��It�s a sign!� they say, but they�re never specific. It doesn�t matter what kind of sign! Just toss some rose petals at it and set up a shrine.

Somewhere in the Bible, let�s say it�s the Book of Carl, chapter 1,000,000, says, �If ye but have the faith the size of a teeny mustard seed, thou canst but with one finger move a Buick Regal,� and so with the faith of a Chocolate Madonna, all things are possible, it would seem.

And so, faithwise, that kitchen worker is miles ahead of me today. I think I�ll put on the Our Lady of the Grilled Cheese earrings that my friend Lorelei made for me, and concentrate on having a little faith. Not a lot, just a mustard seed�s worth.

ILLUSTRATION OF THE HOLY GRILLED CHEESE

How can I go wrong?

P.S.

Here is an illustration of my great Grilled Cheese Mary earrings. Or, one of them, anyway. I've labeled the various elements of the photograph, for maximum elucidation. You're welcome.

YET ANOTHER ILLUSTRATION

Star of the day. . .St. Matthew