Burping Tuna
Woohoo! We got tickets for Phantom on Christmas Eve! I'm very excited. Two days ago, I checked around and was under the impression that it wouldn't be showing anywhere near us. But I saw in the paper today that it's showing at Tinseltown, and I snatched up 5 tickets for Christmas Eve. Rock on. I've been getting all worked up about it and having the songs run through my head.
I'm in the mood for something from the List Yourself book. Or is it List Your Self? Whatever.
List all the places you've been that made you feel immortal, moved to tears, or omnipotent.
*backstage at the Pikes Peak Center
*walking into a theater before a show/concert
*sitting on the swing in the backyard
*driving through Texas and seeing 7 camels in a green field in the fog
*the Kansas City art museum--specifically looking at their artifacts from China dating back more than 4 thousand years
*flying on an airplane--I felt this most strongly on my trip to San Francisco
*Cocoa Beach, Florida--seeing the ocean for the first time in my life
List what you do to restore your soul.
*Nothing restores the soul like reading a good book or some poetry.
*Comfort food is good too. I prefer peanut butter and honey toast.
*Doing something that doesn't take a lot of thought works. Watching TV, coloring, coloring while watching TV . . .
List your recurring nightmares.
*I often dream of being chased. Those are the ones where I wake up breathless.
*I also dream about looking for someone and not being able to find them, or finding them dead. Morbid, I know. Doesn't happen very often. I can think of two times it's happened in the last six months or so.
*I used to dream all the time about getting married and not knowing the groom. Very scary.
*The worst dreams, I think, are the ones where I try to scream but can't make a sound. When I was a kid, I used to fall asleep in the bathtub all the time and have this dream and I'd wake up and call for Mom but I couldn't make a sound.
List all the smells that make you scream.
Sounds like a good title for something. All the Smells That Make You Scream.
*something burning on the stove
*burnt popcorn
*when someone peels an orange
*that funky boy smell a room gets when you put a bunch of boys in a room with the heat on--the guys' room on an IV retreat once got this smell and it was the funkiest smell, ugh
List the animals that really scare you.
*I'm wary of anything bigger than me, but especially horses. They're too unpredictable. And they can probably smell even the smallest hint of fear.
*Snakes, of course.
*I used to love all dogs, but ever since that German shepherd tried to bite me, I'm wary of large dogs. Just skittish around them now.
List the names of all your pets, from childhood until today.
*Toby (cat)
*Chelsea (dog)
*many 25-cent fish from Wal-Mart
*2 hamsters
*2 gerbils
*Wylie (cat)
*Sam (wild rabbit)
*Judy (obnoxious cricket in my window well)
The only one I still have is Wylie, who, for those of you who don't know, is named after Paul Wylie, my favorite ice skater, not Wyle E. Coyote.
List the teachers that changed your life.
*Mrs. Bishop, second grade.
*Mrs. Heeney, earth science in 9th grade, biology in 10th grade, cross-country coach, student council faculty.
*Miss Faulkner, speech in 10th grade, British Lit in 12th grade.
*Mr. Michaux, Bible in 10th grade and 12th grade, and Christian Classics in 12th grade.
*Rebecca Laroche, Intro to Lit, Shakespeare-tragedies and romances, Shakespeare's sonnets.
*Staci Coyle, beginning poetry workshop.
*Erin Malone, advanced poetry workshop.
*Donita Tompkins, writing mentor, sort of.
List all the fads you embraced growing up.
*slap bracelets
*Cabbage Patch dolls--but I didn't get them until after the trend started to fad
*New Kids on the Block, I'm ashamed to admit
*Hanson, I'm even more ashamed to admit. Luckily, it was brief.
*Garbage Pail Kids--mostly just looking at them in the toy store because they were forbidden
*tight-rolling the pants
*wearing numerous pairs of different colored slouch socks
*foofy bangs
One more . . .
List the music that changed your life.
*First and most obvious would be Rent. I became more adventurous and daring, and I have some lasting friendships, and I still feel that frisson (I LOVE that word!) of excitement whenever I hear the music. All I need to hear is "December 24th, 9 p.m., eastern standard time."
*Josh Groban. A lasting friendship, and just pure exposure to beauty, which always changes your life for the better. And because of Josh Groban, indirectly, I learned how to knit hats.
*The music from the Lord of the Rings movies.
*"Angel Standing By"--Jewel (This is the song playing during my absolute favorite movie moment, one of my favorite moments of beauty.)
*Simon and Garfunkel
*Phantom of the Opera
*the Osmonds' Christmas album (Shut up! It's a part of my life forever.)
*U2's album Achtung Baby
*The Beatles
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Come and Knock on Our Door
Thank you, Sara H., for putting the Three's Company theme song in my head.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Sarah
2. Sarah-with-an-H
3. Lulu
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. december249pm
2. ihatepeas
3. haroldspurplecrayon
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. eyes
2. writing ability
3. general craftiness
THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. obsessive thinking
2. when shyness interferes
3. being critical
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Irish
3. German?
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. the idea of going up a ladder
2. loose hair
3. marriage
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Diet Coke
2. fun socks
3. getting the mail
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Diet Coke socks
2. blue Pikes Perk shirt
3. jeans
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Lyle Lovett
2. Eva Cassidy
3. Simon and Garfunkel forever!
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS:
1. America--Simon and Garfunkel
2. Autumn Leaves--Eva Cassidy
3. Flyswatter Ice Water Blues--Lyle Lovett
THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. learning Italian
2. trying out for Jeopardy
3. ??
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. honesty
2. humor
3. to be liked as much as I like the other person--that one-sided crap really sucks
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1.
2.
3.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. smile
2. hands
3. ??
THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO
1. swim
2. dance--I have the body of a ballerina and the coordination of Jerry Lewis
3. ??
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
(note: I have excluded writing and reading as I do not consider them hobbies, but more along the lines of breathing)
1. cooking/baking
2. crafty pursuits (and by that I mean sewing and stuff, not tp'ing cars, though those were fun times)
3. trivial pursuits--mwahaha
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. finish the book I'm reading
2. bake cookies
3. brush my teeth
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. writer, of course
2. forensic science
3. something crafty? The idea of doing that for a living doesn't really excite me. How about professional darts player?
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. NYC
2. England
3. Europe
THREE KIDS' NAMES:
I can't tell you. You might steal them before I have children to give them to.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. jump out of a plane, preferably with a parachute
2. make a movie
3. stand on a Broadway stage, preferably NOT during a performance
Thank you, Sara H., for putting the Three's Company theme song in my head.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Sarah
2. Sarah-with-an-H
3. Lulu
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. december249pm
2. ihatepeas
3. haroldspurplecrayon
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. eyes
2. writing ability
3. general craftiness
THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. obsessive thinking
2. when shyness interferes
3. being critical
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Irish
3. German?
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. the idea of going up a ladder
2. loose hair
3. marriage
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Diet Coke
2. fun socks
3. getting the mail
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Diet Coke socks
2. blue Pikes Perk shirt
3. jeans
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Lyle Lovett
2. Eva Cassidy
3. Simon and Garfunkel forever!
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS:
1. America--Simon and Garfunkel
2. Autumn Leaves--Eva Cassidy
3. Flyswatter Ice Water Blues--Lyle Lovett
THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. learning Italian
2. trying out for Jeopardy
3. ??
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. honesty
2. humor
3. to be liked as much as I like the other person--that one-sided crap really sucks
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1.
2.
3.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. smile
2. hands
3. ??
THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO
1. swim
2. dance--I have the body of a ballerina and the coordination of Jerry Lewis
3. ??
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
(note: I have excluded writing and reading as I do not consider them hobbies, but more along the lines of breathing)
1. cooking/baking
2. crafty pursuits (and by that I mean sewing and stuff, not tp'ing cars, though those were fun times)
3. trivial pursuits--mwahaha
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. finish the book I'm reading
2. bake cookies
3. brush my teeth
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. writer, of course
2. forensic science
3. something crafty? The idea of doing that for a living doesn't really excite me. How about professional darts player?
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. NYC
2. England
3. Europe
THREE KIDS' NAMES:
I can't tell you. You might steal them before I have children to give them to.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. jump out of a plane, preferably with a parachute
2. make a movie
3. stand on a Broadway stage, preferably NOT during a performance
Friday, December 10, 2004
Poetry Can't Save the World
I took this Intro to Music class my first year in college, mainly to get humanities credit. One day I was kind of spacing out during the lecture, but I heard something that made me sit up straight and write it down. I have no idea how you get context for this during a lecture on music, but . . . "I hate waiting for the phone to ring, but some days are just like that."
It stinks waiting for the phone to ring, but it is ten times worse to have to actually call someone. Hence why I've put it off till tomorrow. I had all these good intentions, but then I wimped out. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.
I need to go upstairs and cover my dinner rolls. If they dry out, I'd have to make a new batch, and that would be sad because I still have one more batch to make anyway. Not that it's a monumental effort or anything. I just have to make sure I put the ingredients in the bread machine in the right order. Everything else is a snap.
I'm starting to think I invited too many people to the thing on Tuesday. I've never been to the place so I don't know how big it is. And *very slow mental math and counting on fingers* 8 people have said they're coming. (And 2 people said they will be there with bells on. That would be a sight to see.) It may have been a mistake to invite so many people for my first time performing in years. I hope it doesn't psych me out. I have all these mental pictures running through my head--more like soundtracks, no video--of me introducing one poem or another very wittily and getting lots of laughs. And then I remember this one poem I read that did not get a single laugh. Granted, it's not that great of a poem, definitely needs some work, but come on, people! How can you not laugh at "The Sexy Voice"?
I'm still deciding what to read. I probably won't know for sure until the last minute. That's usually how it plays out. And since I don't know how much time I'll have, I need to be flexible, which means planning several options and having contingencies. Did I spell that right? It's not a word I use often. That word is for NASA and the CIA. I'm keeping in mind the people who've said they're coming--and keeping in mind that everyone else will be there for music. I have this great little poem I wrote about not being able to write songs. I've never read it before. I've also got this one about the same thing called "You Suck" (title guaranteed for a laugh), but it's not as good. I've done it twice, I think. The first time didn't go so well, as I recall. That was a largely literary audience. Literary as in academic literary. Which usually means about half of them are normal people and the rest are poetry snobs. The second time I did it, the title got a big laugh, but the rest, not so much. It was an earlier work, back when I didn't revise much, and then only for poetry class. The other one, "Alien," is much better.
I took this Intro to Music class my first year in college, mainly to get humanities credit. One day I was kind of spacing out during the lecture, but I heard something that made me sit up straight and write it down. I have no idea how you get context for this during a lecture on music, but . . . "I hate waiting for the phone to ring, but some days are just like that."
It stinks waiting for the phone to ring, but it is ten times worse to have to actually call someone. Hence why I've put it off till tomorrow. I had all these good intentions, but then I wimped out. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.
I need to go upstairs and cover my dinner rolls. If they dry out, I'd have to make a new batch, and that would be sad because I still have one more batch to make anyway. Not that it's a monumental effort or anything. I just have to make sure I put the ingredients in the bread machine in the right order. Everything else is a snap.
I'm starting to think I invited too many people to the thing on Tuesday. I've never been to the place so I don't know how big it is. And *very slow mental math and counting on fingers* 8 people have said they're coming. (And 2 people said they will be there with bells on. That would be a sight to see.) It may have been a mistake to invite so many people for my first time performing in years. I hope it doesn't psych me out. I have all these mental pictures running through my head--more like soundtracks, no video--of me introducing one poem or another very wittily and getting lots of laughs. And then I remember this one poem I read that did not get a single laugh. Granted, it's not that great of a poem, definitely needs some work, but come on, people! How can you not laugh at "The Sexy Voice"?
I'm still deciding what to read. I probably won't know for sure until the last minute. That's usually how it plays out. And since I don't know how much time I'll have, I need to be flexible, which means planning several options and having contingencies. Did I spell that right? It's not a word I use often. That word is for NASA and the CIA. I'm keeping in mind the people who've said they're coming--and keeping in mind that everyone else will be there for music. I have this great little poem I wrote about not being able to write songs. I've never read it before. I've also got this one about the same thing called "You Suck" (title guaranteed for a laugh), but it's not as good. I've done it twice, I think. The first time didn't go so well, as I recall. That was a largely literary audience. Literary as in academic literary. Which usually means about half of them are normal people and the rest are poetry snobs. The second time I did it, the title got a big laugh, but the rest, not so much. It was an earlier work, back when I didn't revise much, and then only for poetry class. The other one, "Alien," is much better.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Pine Cones and Holly Berries, Popcorn For You, Apples For Me
I'm starting to get into the Christmas spirit. I played the Osmonds' Christmas CD while I worked on the Christmas letter this morning. The Christmas letter will be late this year due to that psychotic episode known as NaNoWriMo. But I finished a rough draft tonight and will hopefully get it out ASAP. Next project: decorating.
The singles Christmas banquet was on Sunday night. I emerged relatively unscathed but absolutely FREEZING. I'm glad stuff like that only comes once a year. Formal events are so not my thing. And why can't we be called something besides "single"? The word has garnered unpleasant connotations over the years. An innocuous term has become embarrassing, like "Renthead" and "Grobanite." Speaking of, Josh Groban was on PBS last night. Good show, good show. It was in L.A., so I looked for Jessie, but I didn't see her. That might not have been the event she went to and let me listen in on via her cell phone, but then again it could have been. Same songs.
So . . . I'm ready to dip my toe in the scary waters of performance. I found out about an open-mike that is much closer to home and occurs more often than the one I used to frequent. It's mostly music, but they're open to poetry. Just wait till they hear me. They'll love me. They won't be able to get enough of me. ;-) I plan on trying it out next Tuesday night. Woohoo! I've been feeling rather deprived and dying to read in front of a live audience again. Even though I obsess beforehand and get pretty nervous, it's so much fun. I'm already looking over stuff to see what I want to read.
I thought you'd find this amusing. It's a reverse survey of sorts. You fill it out ABOUT the person you're sending it to, not yourself. Sara did an excellent job. And she gets bonus points for saying I have cute toes.
Where did we meet: on an IV weekend, and it took us forever to realize "that other girl" was the one your mom had been telling us both about.
Take a stab at my middle name: as stated, Lindsay
How long have you known me: goodness, around seven years now!
Do I smoke: not unless you catch your clothes on fire while cooking
Do I believe in God: yes
What was your first impression of me upon meeting: this girl writes angry poetry?
Color of my eyes: blue but sometimes other shades depending on what you are wearing
Do I have any siblings: yes, one, Andrew
What's one of my favorite things to do: write, and listen to soundtracks and write
Do you remember one of the first things I said to you: not specifically, I'm sure it was hi or hey or hello. I do remember we sat around on the retreat reading poetry
What's my favorite type of music: I don't know if it's your favorite, but you like Musicals, and Josh Groban (sp?)
What is the best feature about me: physical: you have cute toes, personality trait: you are very witty
Am I shy or outgoing: shy but not afraid to read in public
Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules: you rebel in the small ways
Any special talents: besides having a magical way with words, you sew and I've heard you make a great chicken salad, however, in seven years, I've never tasted said salad!
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be: I don't think in terms of nicknames, I think in terms of Indian names. You would be deceptively young looking woman who carries a dangerous pen
What's your favorite memory of me: the time we were working on the video for drama class and you got all dramatic during a break, I caught it on film... now if I could just find the tape!
If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what one thing would I bring? it's a toss up between a great book or a blank one to write in
I'm starting to get into the Christmas spirit. I played the Osmonds' Christmas CD while I worked on the Christmas letter this morning. The Christmas letter will be late this year due to that psychotic episode known as NaNoWriMo. But I finished a rough draft tonight and will hopefully get it out ASAP. Next project: decorating.
The singles Christmas banquet was on Sunday night. I emerged relatively unscathed but absolutely FREEZING. I'm glad stuff like that only comes once a year. Formal events are so not my thing. And why can't we be called something besides "single"? The word has garnered unpleasant connotations over the years. An innocuous term has become embarrassing, like "Renthead" and "Grobanite." Speaking of, Josh Groban was on PBS last night. Good show, good show. It was in L.A., so I looked for Jessie, but I didn't see her. That might not have been the event she went to and let me listen in on via her cell phone, but then again it could have been. Same songs.
So . . . I'm ready to dip my toe in the scary waters of performance. I found out about an open-mike that is much closer to home and occurs more often than the one I used to frequent. It's mostly music, but they're open to poetry. Just wait till they hear me. They'll love me. They won't be able to get enough of me. ;-) I plan on trying it out next Tuesday night. Woohoo! I've been feeling rather deprived and dying to read in front of a live audience again. Even though I obsess beforehand and get pretty nervous, it's so much fun. I'm already looking over stuff to see what I want to read.
I thought you'd find this amusing. It's a reverse survey of sorts. You fill it out ABOUT the person you're sending it to, not yourself. Sara did an excellent job. And she gets bonus points for saying I have cute toes.
Where did we meet: on an IV weekend, and it took us forever to realize "that other girl" was the one your mom had been telling us both about.
Take a stab at my middle name: as stated, Lindsay
How long have you known me: goodness, around seven years now!
Do I smoke: not unless you catch your clothes on fire while cooking
Do I believe in God: yes
What was your first impression of me upon meeting: this girl writes angry poetry?
Color of my eyes: blue but sometimes other shades depending on what you are wearing
Do I have any siblings: yes, one, Andrew
What's one of my favorite things to do: write, and listen to soundtracks and write
Do you remember one of the first things I said to you: not specifically, I'm sure it was hi or hey or hello. I do remember we sat around on the retreat reading poetry
What's my favorite type of music: I don't know if it's your favorite, but you like Musicals, and Josh Groban (sp?)
What is the best feature about me: physical: you have cute toes, personality trait: you are very witty
Am I shy or outgoing: shy but not afraid to read in public
Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules: you rebel in the small ways
Any special talents: besides having a magical way with words, you sew and I've heard you make a great chicken salad, however, in seven years, I've never tasted said salad!
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be: I don't think in terms of nicknames, I think in terms of Indian names. You would be deceptively young looking woman who carries a dangerous pen
What's your favorite memory of me: the time we were working on the video for drama class and you got all dramatic during a break, I caught it on film... now if I could just find the tape!
If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what one thing would I bring? it's a toss up between a great book or a blank one to write in
Monday, December 06, 2004
A Shepherdess is Quite a Mess, But Little Lambs Are Lovely . . . .
It's only December 6, and I've gotten through most of my Christmas obligations. The scary ones, anyway. Saturday is a get-together with everyone who hung out together in the youth group when I was in high school. That's not scary at all because even though I haven't seen some of them in a long time, and there's a spouse or two I haven't met, these are people I've known for ten years or more. A stress-free evening. My favorite kind. The Christmas drive-through won't be stressful, but I'm trying to forget about it until it happens.
I really should be writing the Christmas letter since it's a week and a half overdue, but I wasn't ready to get started yet. This is the most writing I've done since Tuesday. It's been good to have a little break, what with the migraine and all. That was such a good motivator, though. I want to start applying the 1600 words a day to my other mystery novel so I can finish it. And my science-fiction one too. I'm thinking I may as well just start over with my sci-fi novel. It's such a mess, and the changes I have to make are so sweeping that I ought to just begin again.
I'm Jeopardy-deprived. It's not quite as fun without Ken Jennings, but I need my trivia fix.
Have I mentioned this before? The VCR is back!! And it works! This doesn't make up for the fact that it destroyed my tape of Dream for an Insomniac, which is not an easy movie to find. But I'm willing to forgive. It is, after all, a machine.
I have nothing terribly interesting for you today. I know! I'll leave you with a few of my favorite openings. The first sentence, or paragraph or two, from some of my favorite novels, that grabbed me and hauled me into the story . . . .
I have been afraid of putting air in a tire ever since I saw a tractor tire blow up and throw Newt Hardbine’s father over the top of the Standard Oil sign. I’m not lying. He got stuck up there. About nineteen people congregated during the time it took for Norman Strick to walk up to the Courthouse and blow the whistle for the fire department. They eventually did come with the ladder and haul him down, and he wasn’t dead but lost his hearing and in many other ways was never the same afterward. They said he overfilled the tire.
The Bean Trees, Barbara Kingsolver
August 10, 1999
Under normal circumstances, Faith and I should not be home when my mother calls and invites us to come see her brand-new coffin.
Keeping Faith, Jodi Picoult
It was simple for me, the saints were in heaven and guardian angels had extendable wings like Batman and my dad had died and gone to live in the tree in the backyard.
Our Father Who Art in a Tree, Judy Pascoe
Parsifal is dead. That is the end of the story.
The Magician’s Assistant, Ann Patchett
This all started because of a clerical error.
The Pleasure of My Company, Steve Martin
It's only December 6, and I've gotten through most of my Christmas obligations. The scary ones, anyway. Saturday is a get-together with everyone who hung out together in the youth group when I was in high school. That's not scary at all because even though I haven't seen some of them in a long time, and there's a spouse or two I haven't met, these are people I've known for ten years or more. A stress-free evening. My favorite kind. The Christmas drive-through won't be stressful, but I'm trying to forget about it until it happens.
I really should be writing the Christmas letter since it's a week and a half overdue, but I wasn't ready to get started yet. This is the most writing I've done since Tuesday. It's been good to have a little break, what with the migraine and all. That was such a good motivator, though. I want to start applying the 1600 words a day to my other mystery novel so I can finish it. And my science-fiction one too. I'm thinking I may as well just start over with my sci-fi novel. It's such a mess, and the changes I have to make are so sweeping that I ought to just begin again.
I'm Jeopardy-deprived. It's not quite as fun without Ken Jennings, but I need my trivia fix.
Have I mentioned this before? The VCR is back!! And it works! This doesn't make up for the fact that it destroyed my tape of Dream for an Insomniac, which is not an easy movie to find. But I'm willing to forgive. It is, after all, a machine.
I have nothing terribly interesting for you today. I know! I'll leave you with a few of my favorite openings. The first sentence, or paragraph or two, from some of my favorite novels, that grabbed me and hauled me into the story . . . .
I have been afraid of putting air in a tire ever since I saw a tractor tire blow up and throw Newt Hardbine’s father over the top of the Standard Oil sign. I’m not lying. He got stuck up there. About nineteen people congregated during the time it took for Norman Strick to walk up to the Courthouse and blow the whistle for the fire department. They eventually did come with the ladder and haul him down, and he wasn’t dead but lost his hearing and in many other ways was never the same afterward. They said he overfilled the tire.
The Bean Trees, Barbara Kingsolver
August 10, 1999
Under normal circumstances, Faith and I should not be home when my mother calls and invites us to come see her brand-new coffin.
Keeping Faith, Jodi Picoult
It was simple for me, the saints were in heaven and guardian angels had extendable wings like Batman and my dad had died and gone to live in the tree in the backyard.
Our Father Who Art in a Tree, Judy Pascoe
Parsifal is dead. That is the end of the story.
The Magician’s Assistant, Ann Patchett
This all started because of a clerical error.
The Pleasure of My Company, Steve Martin
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Bleh. I should have known. I said that the last time, too, though, and it didn't do me any good this time.
Remember what I said last night about my bun being too tight and my head feeling weird? Guess who woke up in the wee hours with a migraine masquerading as a plain old sinus headache? The joys of being me. And this time Mom didn't have the day off so when I finally realized it was a migraine, I had to have Andrew drive me all the way up to Compassion to get a pill from Mom. Both of them are my heroes. Aside from Ken Jennings, of course, but in a pinch, who has the happy migraine pills? Not Ken Jennings. Momma does.
So then I threw up on the way out of the Compassion parking lot. Before I had taken the pill, thank goodness. And not all over Andrew's truck, for which he thanked me later. I was smart and brought a Wal-Mart sack in case the urge was too much. Better than yakking chocolate muffin all over Mom and Dad's bed.
Mom and Dad think it's the culmination of the stress I've been under this month. It's just weird to me that hours after I'm finished and the stress should be over, I get a migraine.
Too much information, perhaps, but I don't care. This is my blog, and this is what I'm talking about today. I should probably not spend too much more time in front of the computer--just wanted to give a follow-up. Ha.
Bleh. I should have known. I said that the last time, too, though, and it didn't do me any good this time.
Remember what I said last night about my bun being too tight and my head feeling weird? Guess who woke up in the wee hours with a migraine masquerading as a plain old sinus headache? The joys of being me. And this time Mom didn't have the day off so when I finally realized it was a migraine, I had to have Andrew drive me all the way up to Compassion to get a pill from Mom. Both of them are my heroes. Aside from Ken Jennings, of course, but in a pinch, who has the happy migraine pills? Not Ken Jennings. Momma does.
So then I threw up on the way out of the Compassion parking lot. Before I had taken the pill, thank goodness. And not all over Andrew's truck, for which he thanked me later. I was smart and brought a Wal-Mart sack in case the urge was too much. Better than yakking chocolate muffin all over Mom and Dad's bed.
Mom and Dad think it's the culmination of the stress I've been under this month. It's just weird to me that hours after I'm finished and the stress should be over, I get a migraine.
Too much information, perhaps, but I don't care. This is my blog, and this is what I'm talking about today. I should probably not spend too much more time in front of the computer--just wanted to give a follow-up. Ha.
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