He called me his sweet lady yesterday. I liked it. It was a new endearment and it pleased me. Perhaps it’s because it sounds a little classical, like this dear lady here? Or because it was possessive and it gave me a sense of belonging?
Lady is a funny word. Many of my friends are using it as terms of intra-lady endearment and I don’t know whether we have matured into this title, formerly “hey girl” moves on to “hey lady” or whether lady has taken on a sort of ironic love in this day and age when most of us aren’t too concerned about whether our behavior is ladylike. We have not been taught the skills of the Great Ladies. We don’t carry ourselves like ladies. There’s a sort of evolution of ladylikeness.
Sometimes I don’t like all the lady stuff. Particularly when someone shouts “Hey Lady!” to get my attention. But I liked it when he called me his sweet lady. I don’t know if he’s mine evermore (or if that’s even what either of us would want) but I’m curious about his machine.
And Hamlet’s machine.
It seems only logical that Hamlet’s machine is his body but it’s a rather curious way to talk about a body, particularly in an age without so many machines. Was a machine just a thing that worked?
Someone give me the etymology of machine, please. I want to know about Hamlet’s machine, my machine, my man’s machine and all the machines that matter to me.
The Hamlet Project 