tough noogies

man eating books

 

I’ve never read the book “Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus”

I never really felt the need because I’ve always known the two sexes are different creatures. Brad and I used to talk about that a lot. People are always pushing for equality between the sexes when, that is like saying apples and oranges are the same thing. Yes, they are both fruit, but they taste different, look different, smell different and you can’t make a pie out of an orange. Men and women are not the same. I think a lot of the time when people say they want ‘equality’ they are saying they want the sexes to be treated exactly the same. I don’t really think that is possible. I wish there was a way to say it so it meant both sexes could be treated ‘fair.’ Maybe that is the word…..I don’t know.

I heard about another book like that when I lived in the South. I never read that book either because I felt like the title said it all. “Men are waffles and women are spaghetti.” It’s so true. Men function in little waffle boxes; when they are at work they work, when they are watching the game they watch the game, when they are mowing the lawn they are mowing. Bada bing bada bam. Women on the other hand, can make dinner, talk on the phone, help with homework, clean the kitchen, plan a menu, file their nails, and play a game of word feud on their iPhone all at the same time. ( I know because that is my daily routine)  Men are all nice and tidy and in their given box, while women are hanging all over their plate like a mess of spaghetti. This totally makes sense to me. In fact, I’m not sure there even is a book with that title. Someone told me about it and it has just taken on a life of it’s own in my head. Talk about a powerful title, Mr. writer of the unread book.

I have a hard time picking out titles for the books I write. I am the type of person that totally judges a book by it’s cover. The title has to catch my attention, not tell me TOO much, and it has to look cool. Being that kind of book snob really puts a lot of pressure on me to make an amazing first impression. In other words, I intend to let my publisher/agent pick the title for my book and I will just reject it until it wows me. Seems only fair, I mean, I had to come up with all the words that go inside the book, they could at least step up for the title.

I’m almost done with my novel. I am in the midst of putting all the chapters together and adding the mortar that goes between them. This is all new to me so I may be making a huge mess.I have to say, it is fun reading what I have written. My stories have taken on a life of their own. It is a bit like visiting old friends. Who knows if my book will go anywhere….who ever really knows. All I know is that when I finish it, I will be able to sit back and say, wow….I did that. If nobody wants to publish it, I will publish it myself, just so I can put it up on my book shelf and say, ‘that’s my book.’ My book will sit between other books and rub covers with them and become something more than I made. Books do that, you know, they grow and share and age together. I’m pretty sure you have to be careful what books you put together, you can’t mix things that don’t get along. That’s why I always keep my books organized in categories. I wouldn’t want a self help book on how to succeed in your business next to a murder mystery….the murderer in the story might become too clever to ever get caught.  You just have to be careful….cause I said so.

 

Photo credit: http://us.cdn3.123rf.com/168nwm/nrey/nrey1110/nrey111000035/11035245-man-at-the-table-looking-with-fear-at-a-stack-of-colored-books.jpg

Pi in the sky

 

I should be working on my lesson for today. I should be doing homework. I should be working on ornaments for the Ronald McDonald house tree (Due Tuesday). I should be painting those amazing surprise gifts I’m making. But alas, I am doing none of the above. Instead, I am sitting here with wet hair on my neck thinking about the movie I saw last night. Life of Pi.

I bought the book you know, I really did. I bought it from my favorite little book store in Titusville, Florida. I loved that book store because the manager had read almost every book in it. I would go in and pretend to browse until she came over and told me what I wanted to read next. It all happened because of Pi. I had purchased the book and attempted to read it. I pride myself on being able to read most anything. I couldn’t get through this one tho. It was so boring…and surprisingly ‘dry’ for the content….. The next time I went book hunting, I mentioned to “Beth” that I had gotten the book and it had beaten me. “Bring it back!” she said. A light went on in my head….if I brought it back, I wouldn’t have to admit defeat every time I saw it looking at me from the book shelf. I was saved! I brought the book back and exchanged it for something I could read. I believe that is when I started on my Phillipa Gregory chapter of life. Loved those books. Pi was quickly forgotten along with the four other books that had beaten me; 1000 years of solitude ( just kill me – and smack Oprah for recommending it), The Fountainhead ( the first page is absolutely beautiful…I stopped shortly after that…I’ll go back some day, maybe.), 1984 (I was young…8th grade, don’t judge me), The Lady in the Tower (Ann Boleyn doesn’t even like this tribute herself I bet.)

I figured all was good until I started seeing movie posters and trailers for my nemesis book. Life of Pi had obviously been read by someone else with more fortitude than myself. Obviously someone that had a say in movie making. I was being mocked wherever movies were shown. My sister had read the book with her book club. It was getting personal. I had always been intrigued with the story in the book, I just couldn’t seem to read it. I thought about trying to read it again, before the movie came out, but that just wasn’t an option. School is all I read these days. Well, except for my friend Betsy Love’s book Identity. I did finish that one the other day. But I just didn’t think I had enough space in my brain to fit any Pi with all the Biology, political science, technology and general education class info I had stuffed in there lately. I gave in and went to the movie last night.

Whenever I read a book before seeing the movie, I compare them. It natural and and almost impossible not to do that. As I sat watching this incredibly beautiful story unfold before my eyes, I felt a peaceful relief that I didn’t know where the story was going. It was a ride of wonder and amazement as I experienced the story for the first time.  It’s hard to believe that a story so rich and full and deep actually came from those dry brittle pages. It was amazing.

So now, here I am. Watching as the book walks away from me. Will I read it? Will it call to me and ask me to delve even deeper into the amazing story the movie told me? Or will it just keep walking, not turning back, just like Richard Parker? Was there a tiger? Is there a tiger? I am the tiger. Cause I said so.

 

Photo credit: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mNy-9-Qs_80/T-m4qVTCgDI/AAAAAAAAL-g/qv_ZT_Rk7P8/s1600/Siberian%2BTiger5.jpg&imgrefurl=http://thelife-animal.blogspot.com/2012/06/siberian-tiger.html&h=768&w=1024&sz=378&tbnid=ss_6eNs5vcwvQM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=120&zoom=1&usg=__1HSKOs6QX7HWXACNniLawYVqJak=&docid=s_A-UqVkBtovHM&sa=X&ei=aUeyUJbzCaixiQKRhIGoCQ&ved=0CGMQ9QEwDw&dur=408

hazy shades

 

Time is a funny thing. I remember as a teenager….I had way too much time on my hands. I would sit around, avoiding chores and homework, and wish I had something to do. I was ‘bored.’ Even when I did do all my chores and homework, there were times when friends did not appear to reward me for my efforts with their attentions. When all else failed, I would retreat to my room and read a book. This wasn’t really a bad thing, I loved to read. At one point, I even devised my own ‘card catalog’ to keep track of the books I had read. I put each book title, author and brief review on an index card and put them, alphabetically of course, into a small file box. I had a lot of cards in there. When I was in school, I read about a book a day. The librarian knew me by name and just waved me by most days. Why check out a book when it was going to be returned in the morning? I loved books and kept at least two on me most days.

When I moved out on my own, time was a bit different. I still had ‘down time’, formerly known as ‘boredom’, but now it was caused by my lack of funds. I could go play with friends whenever I wanted to but it seemed to always take money now. I missed my care-’free’ days of youth, but it seemed a small price to pay for complete freedom.

When I got married, I started to notice a slight decrease of that free-down-boredom time. My life was now being shared almost constantly with someone else. We spent the time we had off from work or school being together. We played games, read books together, went for walks, watched movies, and talked a lot. Time moved at an easy pace for a while.

When we started having kids, time became something completely different. Time was suddenly marked by sleeping and food. I didn’t get much sleep and seemed to be in the kitchen or nursing a baby all of the time. Nine years passed in a sort of hazy blur. As my kids get older, time seems to be moving at a break neck speed. I have no idea what boredom is, what I did yesterday, how I will possibly accomplish my list for tomorrow, or where today went.  I have gone from a calm, melting ice cream life of teenager boredom to an ice in the blender smoothie speed of adult mommy hood. It doesn’t help that I work full time, volunteer, teach piano, go to school full time, write, cook, clean house, and bathe. I’ve tried removing the bathing part but people complained. I’ve cut back on sleep to accommodate the cooking and only do the bare minimum of house cleaning.

I wonder at times if I am trying to do too much. Am I trying to fill my life too full of ‘good things?’ What would I cut out if I could? You know I’d hire a maid in a heart beat, but I’d feel guilty for not teaching my kids to clean.

I was recently talking to one of my bosses at work. She asked me about my schedule at work and I told her what I was really doing, ‘off the record.’ She shook her head and told me I was a “rock star.” She asked if there was anything I couldn’t do.  I get asked that a lot. I don’t know why, it isn’t like I do a lot of amazing things, I just do what I have to. I’ve come up with a response to help people feel better….if they are less crazy than I am. There is one thing that I really can’t do. I completely suck at this. I have tried for over twenty years to do it and I just can’t do it. If the end of the world would happen unless I threw a frisbee well,…..that would be the end. Many, many people have attempted to teach me the art of frisbee throwing and I just can’t do it. But I’m okay with that. Better that than, say….breathing. I mean, not to brag but I’m real good at breathing. I do it all day long. Just not when I run….cause I said so.

Photo credit: http://www.rippedplanet.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/et_temp/Bored-couple-517742_186x186.jpeg

 

Huckleberry

I met the piano player for the school I work at this week. It wasn’t hard….it is a pretty small school. I think I know everyone. Well…except for one teacher. I don’t know that I have met her but I have a feeling she isn’t real. Kind of like that teacher in the Wayside Stories books….except our school is all one story so I’m not sure how she isn’t discovered…for being not real.

Anyway, back to the piano player. He is a super nice guy. We call him Mr. G because, even a group of people with educations in all things needed to mold young minds, can’t pronounce his name. Or, we are too lazy. Take your pick. Mr. G isn’t a huge guy, but he has a huge presence. He isn’t loud, but everyone hears him. He doesn’t move fast, but people make way for him. Mr. G is completely blind.

I am inspired by him. Not only because he has been blind since birth and yet functions in a sight driven world, but because he has an amazing attitude and sense of humor. One cannot talk to Mr G without coming away with a smile or a chuckle. Most times, I also come away having learned something new. Did you know…there is braile music? I did not. Of course, Mr G was quick to add that he has a hard time ‘sight reading’ new music because he doesn’t have enough hands to read the music and play it at the same time. Funny guy. He also makes it clear he loves to go on blind dates whenever possible.  Gotta love him.

It is wonderful that the kids at my school are being exposed to someone like Mr G. Someone that is a bit different and special. I can’t think of anyone at my elementary school that had any sort of handicap or ‘difference’ like that. In fact, most of my life has been spent with people just like me. I actually didn’t realize what a handicap that caused ME  until I went back to college a few years ago. When I took my cultural diversities class, one of our assignments was to bring in a childrens book that had cultural diversity in it. . . . um…..what?

I am a huge book lover, buyer, collector, ….hoarder….. I have a lot of books. Big books, little books, good books, not so good books,  how to books, how NOT to books, color books…..you name it, I have one. But I stopped in my tracks when my teacher said cultural diverse. I looked through all the awesome books I had bought my kids to help them learn numbers, colors, poems, fables, history, etc. All the books had white kids in full families. I had missed out on a huge part of teaching my kids.

I finally found a book that worked, it was about crayons and how each color was important to make a full picture. It was a stretch but the teacher loved it. I went right out after class and got a bunch of books from the library about different cultures and types of people. I want my children to realize their world is more than just them. We are a huge box of crayons. I think I’ve made progress.

I wish other people could see the need for this as well. This week, I had two incidences of kids being biased and it broke my heart. One little girl would not hold hands with an African American girl in her grade because she was black. I wanted to smack her in the head, but I didn’t. I just frowned at her and held the girl’s hand myself. Example?? I hope it helped. The other incident was with a tiny blond girl in Kindergarten. My friend that does special ed was in her room doing evaluations and the little girl told her she was ugly. My friend is also black. It makes me sad. My friend is actually a beautiful woman.

I can’t change the world, but I can try and make a difference in my kids lives and in the lives of the kids at my school. Lucky for me, our teachers are responsible for their own libraries. Guess what books are going to be donated to every class, starting with kindergarten? Yep…gonna make my subtle move. If they don’t learn it at home, I’ll be danged if they don’t learn it at my school….cause I said so.

Photo credit: http://www.google.com/imgres?q=images+of+crayons&hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=h1v&sa=X&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1867&bih=962&tbm=isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=LIq7MISpznbcZM:&imgrefurl=http://www.mysteryexperience.com/thoughts/carving_crayons&docid=gI4BkVpZVV-PGM&imgurl=http://www.mysteryexperience.com/files/images/crayons.img_assist_custom.jpg&w=425&h=313&ei=wJUmULO4I8rSigL_oYHoCA&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=496&vpy=317&dur=416&hovh=187&hovw=254&tx=125&ty=83&sig=114757908013112425886&page=1&tbnh=135&tbnw=183&start=0&ndsp=44&ved=1t:429,r:11,s:0,i:109

under where?

 

I mentioned the book I started the other day, Chasing the Moon by A. Lee Martinez. I admit I am reading it slow…partly because I don’t have a lot of free time, partly because I am addicted to word games on my cell phone, and partly because it is a bit confusing. I’m not criticizing the author, I’m sure it is confusing mostly due to the fact that I am a scatter brain these days. I blame the children….Anyway. I am liking the book. It is all about this twisted world full of dimensions that are colliding and overlapping. The main character feels she is losing her mind most of the time. I think she has every reason to. In fact, if she doesn’t do it soon..I’m afraid it is only because she is going to morph into something not normal.

There are days when I also feel like I am losing my mind. I sometimes take a step back and look at myself and wonder who in the H-E-double-hockey-stick I am. I’ve written about this before, so I won’t go into great detail, but just know that it hasn’t gotten much better. Lately I feel like a fireman(woman) that has been on call for the last three months without a break. I’ve been running all over town putting out fires and trying to keep things under control. It is way past the “I need a nap” stage I’m afraid. There is a part of me that wants to sell my house, pack up everything I care about (including my kids), change my number, and move to a cave in Montana. Assuming of course that the ‘cave’ it fully electric and cable ready. I do have my limits.

I used to get so upset with Brad because we moved so much. I hate moving. I hate packing, unpacking, cleaning, unpacking, lifting heavy boxes, unpacking….etc. It was always me that did all the work (packing and unpacking) and I hated it. When I think about it now, I still hate that part of the moving, but I didn’t realize how awesome it was to have a fresh start every few years. Yeah, you have to find the schools, stores, etc….and even new clients for my business, but other than that it is quite the adventure.  We’ve lived here for almost three years now. That is a long time in Carlson years. I still feel fairly new here, simply because I am single, unemployed, and too lazy to go meet most of my neighbors. In the past, I got involved in everything I could, right away. Here…not so much. Part of me still thinks everything is still….temporary. Being married for almost 20 years can make a person feel like that I think. I’m still waiting for Brad to come home from his business trip or something. Sometimes when we say family prayer, I almost ‘remind’ the kids to ask for a blessing on dad while he is out of town. Yeah, I’m messed up.

My kids are doing okay though. At least I think so. I know they miss him too. Today, I was driving home from a graduation dinner with my kids and Jared was up front talking to me. He is so much like his dad. Brad was a talker. I used to wish he would just shut up some times. lol…anyway…..Jared is a lot like that. I love hearing him talk. He gets passionate about the things he says and he does a lot of thinking out loud, just like Brad. I found myself feeling some of the same old feelings I felt when Brad would monologue. I was interested and listening intently….then I was disagreeing in my head…and then I was getting drowsy. Brad would almost always talk me to sleep. It would piss him off, but I never had insomia! I wish I was a better listener for Jared…meaning I wish I could understand everything he says and give him a worth while argument back. I can see flaws in his reasoning at times but…I know I don’t have enough info to give him a good enough argument to change his mind. Kind of like Brad.  Its true that a bit of us lives on in our children.

Because of my feelings of almost insanity, I decided I would go for a walk tonight. It is late, and dark, and only a bit cool, but walking is a good way for me to escape and clear my head. I usually don’t have a problem walking alone, but I thought I might take Fantine with me tonight to “protect” me…lol. I was thinking about that when I sat down to write this. I decided to google for images of “things that go bump in the night” and came up with this really cool picture, song, and video. I hope you enjoy it. I hope I didn’t break any laws by posting it here either. May you all have sweet dreams and be able to keep those things that go bump in the night at bay….at least until you can harness them and make them do your dishes….cause I said so.

 

epic jail

I did something last night that I haven’t done in a very long time. No, not that…get your mind out of the gutter!  I actually pulled a book off my ample shelves and read. I know, what’s the big deal, right?  It was a big deal.  I have always considered myself a “reader.” Before Brad died, I would find myself reading up to four books at a time. You know, one in the car, one by my bed, one in the lou, and one in my purse. Brad always asked me how I could possibly keep them straight….silly question. Books stand alone. The stories never got jumbled up in my head, they were different.

I haven’t read a book since last fall. It has been a bit weird. The last book I read was The Help….and I loved it. I have a ton of books sitting in piles and on shelves….just waiting for me to crack them open and dive into their realities. I have purposely not been reading so that I could focus on my own writing. I’ve been a bit amazed when I hear/see all the books my author friend Betsy reads. I know she writes for hours every day…and yet she still reads. I just didn’t feel like I could do that.

Yesterday was a bit of a stressful day for a lot of reasons. At the end of the day, I decided it was time to break my reading fast and grabbed the first book I had access to. I took it and climbed in a bubble bath. I didn’t really know what to expect with this book, but it was pretty good. In fact, it was extremely creative! The book is called Chasing the Moon….don’t have the author handy, but they seem to have a very twisted sense of reality. I’m not really sure where the book is going but I enjoyed what I read.

I am always worried that I will be influenced by what I read and it will change my story. I am also afraid of stealing anyone else’s ideas. My son would argue that you can’t ‘own’ an idea….intellectual property and all that…but I would know. I certainly wouldn’t want anyone stealing MY stories or ideas. That brings up the irritation and worry I have with the publisher I met with a few weeks ago. I left a chapter with her….just to get some feedback, and she has never once called or returned any of my messages. It makes me wonder…was it so bad that she cannot speak to me without involuntarily vomiting on the phone and is there for avoiding me for her own preservation? Or did she love it so much she has spent every waking moment since, writing the rest of the book and it is at this moment at printing? Or, is it that she lost it in the piles of crap on her table and is too embarassed to let me know? She seemed like a nice person, but in this instance….absence is not making the heart grow fonder. It is making the heart have small panic attacks and have desires to drive my car through her front window. That being said, I will try to call her once again today. If there is no response….I know where she lives…..cause I said so….

 

photo credit: http://newlifeirvine.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/broken-glasses1.jpg

happy snappy

I saw a very happy thing yesterday. It wasn’t a new kitten or a baby sleeping in a flower pot. No, this was something that made me fairly dance with joy! I had stopped by my local book store to look for the book Drop Dead Healthy by JA Jacobs, and of course I had to pee before I actually browsed. This detox diet I have been on has made me have to go more than I usually do…and that is a lot. I imagine gallons of fat going down the plumbing each time and it make the time well spent.

As I walked (potty sprinted) past the cute little coffee/pastry shop in the book store ( who ever thought of that was a genius!!) I saw tons of people sitting around with their cups and napkins READING! Yes, they had actual books in their hands and they were turning pages.

You may wonder why this makes me so freaking happy? Well, I’ll tell ya. A few months ago our local Borders Book closed. I went into a mini depression because I am in the middle of writing my first book. Something about the biggest book store around closing made me feel like I was wasting my time with a capital W. I wanted to throw in the towel and give up on my dream.

People told me not to worry because books were still there, they were just digital. I know that is probably true, but there is something wonderful about reading an actual hands on book. I just might publish my book with an ebook option but, what I really want is a nice physical book with my name on it sitting on a bookshelf in your home.

Little things like seeing people reading can really make my day. Today I say thank you to all the vintage, book reading people out there. The internet is awesome and I do read a lot of stuff on here by my fellow bloggers but…books are best. Cause I said so.

Photo credit: http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2012/03/a-skull-of-books/

monkey business

I’m not overly fond of monkeys. Something about them cause a little freak out in me. Maybe it is because of the way they seem almost human like, or maybe it is because my parents subjected me to many, many Planet of the Ape movies when I was a mere child. Who can tell. Whatever the reason, I don’t love monkeys.

That being said, I have called my children by ‘monkey names’ many, many times. Cute little monkey buns, monkey face, etc. It sounds cute, but in reality, monkeys are far from cute in my opinion.

In spite of my feelings about monkeys, I bought my son a monkey book at my favorite little book store the other day. The Book Rack is an awesome store. For one, it is close to my house and full of new and used books I haven’t even read yet, and two it is run by a cute set of twin guys that know everything. They are my kind of people! They know books, movies, music, and love to talk about them too. They are also amateur film makers and expert lego builders. I call them the Renaissance men of Mesa. I think of any reason I can to go in and browse and visit with them.

The book I bought is called Monkey Tales. I thought it was a book of cute little stories about monkeys. When I started to read the book to Ben I realized, quickly, that it was actually a collection of fables, folktales, and legends all about monkeys throughout the world. Some people might have been disappointed by this but for us it was a happy accident. Ben actually prefers stories with facts in them. He is like a sponge that soaks up all the information around him and then shares it with the rest of the family at just the right moments. He amazes me with his ability to retain information. I, on the other hand, cannot remember how old I am.

Last night we read a story from Amazonia about a group of monkeys that hated the rain. Every time it rained they would hide and promise to build shelter the very next day. When the next day dawned all bright and sunny, they had no interest or desire to build houses. I thought it was a good story about procrastination and spent a few minutes talking about it to the boys.

“Yeah, yeah,….that’s great. Time for scary stories with Ben now.” Ben stated as soon as I stopped to take a breath. He then spent the next ten minutes or so telling me a story that gave me nightmares last night. Every story starts out with,”It was a dark and stormy night….” and includes zombies and people getting mangled in some way. This story had traces of horror films I have only seen trailers to through the cracks between my fingers as I tried to hide my eyes. He has never seen these movies so I wonder where he gets his information from. He was able to take the yuck from the unseen movies and mix them up with fairy tales and make them into something pretty frightening. He loves it when I tell him, “too scary!” and I squeal in fright. Maybe I am encouraging him too much?
Sometimes I think I should just write down the stories he tells and put them into a book. Of course, I would have to put a warning label inside the from cover, “Not for the faint of heart, or grandma…” cause I said so.

photo from :

http://www.google.com/imgres?q=images+of+monkeys&hl=en&client=safari&sa=X&rls=en&biw=1301&bih=585&tbm=isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=lp9hzBsSJr7L_M:&imgrefurl=http://www.wadewegner.com/2011/02/families-and-the-oil-of-monkeys/&docid=Ul8pxppl310_oM&imgurl=http://www.potstuck.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/01/the-3-monkeys.jpg&w=400&h=300&ei=H–MT6_yDIvYiQKc__S9CA&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=635&sig=113066672481944259300&page=1&tbnh=107&tbnw=143&start=0&ndsp=24&ved=1t:429,r:3,s:0,i:141&tx=37&ty=42

Beckie does Beefy Books

I had a really fun and happy day today. No, I didn’t go to Hobby lobby…although that would have been the icing on the cake. I just did normal mommy stuff. Got up, got the kids off to school….cleaned up just a bit, even took a shower. I even went a little crazy and blow dried my hair just a bit. I wanted to work on swaps a bit more, but I just didn’t have the time this morning. Instead, I drove all the way to Florence (not the #1 Az tourist stop) and picked up quite a bit of beef. Yes, I’m planning ahead and trying to feed my kids good. It felt pretty good to almost fill up my freezer with something other than bread and strawberries. I mean, if it can’t be ice cream, it might as well be beef, right?
But wait…that wasn’t the most exciting part of my day. I know, I know…how can it get better than that? Well, let me tell ya. I came home from my beef run and filled my freezer and then did a little work on a story I had written. I had a hard time concentrating though because I was so excited. I had an appointment to meet with a potential illustrator for my first book today. He will hereafter be referred to as “the asparagus” for reasons I cannot divulge.(his name is Alfred, figure it out).
I am so dang excited to actually get one of my stories in print with full color pictures and all that….I can hardly wait. The asparagus came highly recommended by a friend so I was imagining my book, in all its glory, being published and winning awards and basically being the ‘talk of the town.’
I was driving across town to meet the asparagus and could not help but call my sister to share my excitement. What else are sisters for? Besides shopping for bras?(sale at VS this week!) As I talked to her about it, I felt my excitement grow to even greater heights. I might have scared a few other drivers on that ‘big turn’ part of the freeway with my swerving around. I was laughing so hard my eyes were watering and I was about to pee my pants.
Yes, in my family we tend to take excitement to higher levels than the rest of the boring, I mean, normal population. I was so excited I was afraid I would bust a gasket, or worse yet, end up like that sad weight lifter than lost his….never mind. I can’t really speak of that….Rhea. Anyway. I had to calm myself down because I was afraid the poor asparagus would hear the doorbell, come to the door and see nothing but me…lying on his doormat twitching, in a pool of my own urine. That image may disturb you, but to me, it caused even more hysterical laughing.
The good news, (yes it gets better) , is that I actually found the house I was looking for, thanks to Gypsy (GPS) and had a nice meeting with the asparagus. He is a very nice fellow….and very talented. He laughed at my jokes and told me my story was good. (big points there) We hit it off well.
The only problem we may have is in the actual artwork. He is incredibly good at art. I was blown away by his pictures. He is going to make me a few samples by next Tuesday to see if he can make it look like I want it to. I admit, I am a bit (extremely) picky about what I want. This is my first time and I want it to be great. I don’t think he will have a problem drawing my pictures, I just hope he can step away from his amazing comic book style and make it kid appropriate. After all, the book is about a ‘mermaids dream’, not a…wet dream,……cause I said so.

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