
I was recently talking to DT² who insisted that the next time I kiss a man she requires photographic proof. I understand. It would be like spotting an albino rhino in Antarctica. Or is that a spotted penguin in the … Continue reading
I was recently talking to DT² who insisted that the next time I kiss a man she requires photographic proof. I understand. It would be like spotting an albino rhino in Antarctica. Or is that a spotted penguin in the … Continue reading
Have you supported my friend Helena? No? Well, what are you waiting for? Get on over there. With only three hours left you don’t want to miss out. Seriously you’ll be sorry. Even Amanda Palmer congratulated her efforts. Wait, What? … Continue reading
You really should read A Letter from Me in the Future to Me in the Past. Sooo clever that I must confess. I wish I wrote it. Not that I could be so word witty….(no really I’d have to locate my funny bone which may or may not have been removed with my kidney).
Why do I wish I wrote it? you ask. But isn’t it obvious why? (insert white noise) No?! (insert droning Uhhhhh) Come on you can do it. Give her a go.
Still nothing? (insert gobsmacked slack-jawed stare) well duh……….because if I’d authored it- THEN I’d be published in the New Yorker, the holy grail to me. Which it has been ever since our middle school field trip to the Magazine’s offices. Seriously it’s become mecca to my concept of being a writer. The Oscar of the literary world. I can hear actual writers laughing their asses off right now. But what can I say?, the idea just stuck for me. I’m sure if I actually ever published I might sing a different tune. But for now the fantasy prevails.
I often like to try and write the caption for their Cartoon contest. This week’s winner is a hoot. And my co-worker and I submitted caption entries for this week’s cartoon. Mine was “He just won’t take no for an answer.” Hers was ” I called his mother a Witch, not a bitch.” What would you write? Head on over and give it a whirl.
The recruiter left this week for Singapore. The next 2 yr stop in her life adventure. Suddenly she feels so far away, unreachable, unlike Denver. But I’m sure we’ll find a way to connect and perhaps I’ll find it in me to travel that far. That is unless I get offered a house on the beach in Sans Luis Obispo or Santa Barbara first.
Ha! Would you believe it! She just texted.(Wait is that right?……she just sent a text.) Coincidence? I think not. She’s Arrived after her long flight. It’s 3am. She made it to her hotel, had a salad and an ambien is about to catch some zzzs.
I’ve spent this week struggling with Monday’s misadventures in Happy Hour. No, I did not drink too much. I wish that were even a possibility these days. When I go out, I go for the company. I sit with my glass of water and chat. Well on Monday I decided to try some HH food. SIBO makes this tricky. I thought I chose carefully. My pain etc. for the next 2 days said otherwise. So last night I baked up some banana bread and have vowed to stick to making my own food at home or only go to the few restaurants I know I can nibble at.
I’ve been participating in more writing prompts lately. This week’s dungeon prompt (When did death become real for you) arrived in my reader as my mother appeared in my office doorway. (I already told you I don’t believe in coincidence). She came unannounced. She never shows up without warning. She’d been at her therapist’s. Unlike me, she’s come to explore her inner workings late in life.
2013 was a particularly difficult year in my family. First my father was diagnosed with Leukemia. Next my niece had a terrible accident. This was followed shortly by my own kidney cancer diagnosis and surgery. Lastly my Aunt, my mom’s big sis, found out she had an inoperable brain tumor. At 76 she decided to forgo any treatment. She’s returned home to spend whatever time she has left. And each day is progressing closer towards death. Her decline has been swift but I believe this in its own right is a grace of sorts.
Did I say 2013 sucked? My Mom asked if she could have a hug. She needed consoling. Apparently my father’s Leukemia has taken a turn, begun to progress. She had wanted to continue to pretend his aggressive marker was inconsequential, but now his platelets have dropped to 18, and denial is no longer possible.
“Sure” I said wrapping my arms around her. As I held her she sobbed uncontrollably, grief stricken. “I miss your level headedness” She confessed.
Wait For the Water ~ The Ballroom Thieves
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