This whole not posting thing. I should be telling you everything.
OK, let's start. I cannot stay away from carbs, so I am pretending I will successfully count calories. I am uncomfortable in my body. I don't want to be. So play along.
I believe I received the most non-committal request for a date (despite said discomfort with said body). One month after meeting. M. says this is what it was, but why do I have to hire (or consult) an interpreter? If you cannot ask, you cannot date. I believe that is from The Rules. I probably just made it up. It is from My Rules. Which I break all the time. Anyways, who cares because we're all going to die alone! Kidding. That is totally not funny, but I'm not in a deleting kind of mood. I was going to say something about us all dying together in a plane crash, but I thought better of it.
What else is new in the world beyond writing? I'll tell you what's new. Stuffing. That's what's new. Every time the hives begin when I think about Thanksgiving with my family, I think about stuffing. It's kind of like a carb-loaded Xanax thought. Stuffing. Mmmmm. Why do we only have stuffing once a year? Think about it. I am.
Here's something else: My phone has the WORST predictive texting ... predictions? I wrote a stern email to someone who deserved worse and instead of saying "It seems ...", it said "It sperm ..." Which I caught after I sent the stern email. Whaaa? Seriously, phone. Do I have to type whole words on my own? Unless it stops changing things like "seems" to "sperm", that is the case, apparently.
Here's yet another thing: I thought I left my debit card (which I use for all financial transactions totalling more than $1 - I am pretty much not kidding. Fiscal responsibility and perpetual failure to get cash back ...) at the little market near where I live. So, I stopped by tonight and asked and the guy holds up his arms and goes "No" and shakes his head. Like I expected it to be on his person. Like I was getting ready to shake him down. Dude, a "no" would have sufficed. But he gave me something non-writing related to put on my neglected blog, so I'm going to forgive. Plus they have food there when I have none and I can walk there.
What else? I don't know. Can I tell you about writing stuff? Just a little? No. I'm not going to. Tough love. I will tell you stuff all at once. Nothing terribly exciting, really. Waiting, waiting. And then some waiting. The better journals make you wait longer for rejections. And acceptances, but I'm not expecting those. I'm just really hoping nobody nominates me for a Pushcart Prize because I like saying I've never been nominated in bios, on occasion. Because it's a NOMINATION. Talk to me when you win. Seriously, I take it out of bios for Corium. I've been nominated, runner up, second place, honorable mention, consolation prized, etc. and I don't put those things in my bio. I am so self-righteous. I'll shut up about that now. Congratulations on your Pushcart nomination! Truly. I'm sure I'm just bitter. (I want to make a smiley really bad right now.)
Anything else? I am pretty sure I threw out my night guard thingie that protects my teeth from grinding them to dust while I sleep. A variation on the kid who throws out the retainer thing. Complete with me going through moldy trash (someone who lives alone should have a smaller trash can, I learned) and not finding it. When you touch moldy chicken bones, you should emerge victorious. I wasn't even nominated.
Did I tell you I messed up my rotator cuff? On my right shoulder? And I'm right-handed? And it really hurts? Now I have. So, the only good part is physical therapy. Because insurance pays for massages! I like my massage guy. He says I need a backpack. I found the cutest one EVER but it will be my casual backpack (when I buy it on sale) and I need a more purse-like backpack, but I have very specific criteria. I wish that was me being funny, but it's totally not. I know what I want when it comes to accessories.
I am tired but the wind is blowing and these windows are rattling around and it's making me a little nervous. I'll get into bed and think about stuffing. Maybe when I wake up, it will be morning.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
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2 comments:
Stuffing as a carb-loaded Xanax thought. YES. We're going to spend the long weekend with friends of Raj's who I haven't met before. So my number one anxiety is just the garden variety social phobia, but my second is that the stuffing will be some awful apple raisin abomination and not the world's most perfect comfort food that it is intended to be.
Here is how you break the spell of Thanksgiving. Buy a roasted chicken from a store that roasts chickens. Make stuffing to go with it. Eat it on a Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or any damn day you want. Include yams or cranberry, mashed potatoes and gravy. Have Thanksgiving in the middle of summer or at the beginning of spring. When you allow yourself to have stuffing any day of the year, Thanksgiving has little power over you.
Loved your story Parameters. You should come over and see us at Lascaux Review! www.lascauxreview.com
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