Black Magpie Theory: The Time for Pretending Is Over

I'm writing fiction about nonfictional characters over at Black Magpie Theory.

Okay, maybe some of us wish those characters were fictional, but still......

What kind of trouble are you making for yourself today? What fictions are you creating? Am I going to need a lawyer?

Black Magpie Theory: Telling Us What We Want to Hear

I'm blogging at Black Magpie Theory about one of the things that is contributing mightily to our very troubling troubles as a nation.

See you over there.

Black Magpie Theory: Libertyland Part 1

So what if we agree to disagree

And draw lines in the sand

That become lines on a map

And then borders between

Our vision and theirs.

I'm writing a serial fiction at Black Magpie Theory.  I hope you'll join me there for part one.

(I've contracted the plague.  I'll see you guys in a day or two.)

What's Your Story, Morning Glory?

1.  I'm blogging at Black Magpie Theory today.
2.  I'm not really blogging.  I'm driving Chloe back to school, but I have a post up at BMT.  I received some mail I want to tell you about.
3.  While wearing nothing for Halloween turned out to be an inspired yet easy costume choice, it did come with some unforeseen problems.  Some near-sighted adolescent playing ding dong ditch mistook one of my pointy-outy body parts for the door bell button.  I don't think either one of us will ever forget this Halloween.
4.  I tried not to eat too much candy, but let's just say it'll be a long time before I want another Butterfinger.
5.  I introduced Sophia and Nathan to the movie Freaks.  Gooble Gobble will forever be a Golden family tradition.
6.  Because I am (1) a glutton for punishment, (2) in need of something to keep me off the streets, (3) sick of editing my first novel and ready to do some new writing, I've signed up to be part of NaNoWriMo again this year.  Last year I did it and finished writing 50,000 words while holding down a full-time job and commuting four hours a day. This year I have no excuse for not finishing.

And the best part about this second novel is that I've been preparing for it for years by conducting "research" that doubled as a hobby.  Write what you know?  Oh, you betcha.

If you're taking part and want to be a writing buddy, here's my profile.  Unlike most things in my life, I take this 50,000 words in 30 days goal very seriously so if you blog and wonder why I'm not commenting during November just remember it's not you, it's me.  I'm pacing around, gnawing pencils, meditatively ironing, brainstorming with the Pussies for Peace, twirling my hair around my finger and staring off into space, consulting my thesaurus or doing "research" on xhamster.  Research.  Oh, and I still have to finish revising my first novel which finally has a working title:  History We Don't Know.

After the month of November is up, all will be back to normal such as it was.

And so you are all caught up with me.  Now I'm driving back from Gainesville.  I'm stuck on a two-lane highway behind a slow driver.  I drank too much coffee and now I have to pee.  Should I stop at the Kroger to tinkle?  I sing to the radio or listen to old time radio shows and think about the plot for this new novel.  I ignore my phone when it indicates that I have a new text message.  I try not to think about that rise in the road where I ran over an already dead cat but the thunk thunk still haunts me three weeks later.  That bothers me almost as much as having to go pee.  I will the slow poke in front of me to drive faster.  I think about how if I stop at the Kroger to pee, I can also pick up a green pepper for the chili I'm going to make for supper.  And then my phone will ring.  Maybe it's a potential employer calling about an interview or one of the kids.  Maybe it's one of you.

If it is, will you tell me to just stop and go pee?  Oh, and remind me to get a pepper, too.

Thank you.

Now catch me up with you.  What's shakin'?

Black Magpie Theory: Lil Wayne Isn't a Thug, But George W. Bush Is

I'm blogging at Black Magpie Theory today.   Come see.

Black Magpie Theory: Know Your Enemy

I'm blogging at Black Magpie Theory today.  See you there.

It's not commerce I hate. It's corruption.

The Number of Candles Remains A Mystery

The day after my parents found me under a cabbage leaf.  Or so my sister said.

The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly and lie about your age. - Lucille Ball

I woke up this morning and checked my phone like I always do.  I do it mostly in case Chloe has sent some overnight angst-o-gram, a wish goodnight or photos of a mysterious rash she wants me to diagnose using my super special mom powers.  Instead, I was overwhelmed by a number of Facebook text messages from friends wishing me a happy birthday.

While MathMan burrowed deeper under the covers and gave me a good morning grope, I read the messages and wondered how I could be so lucky.  In a year that has had its ups and downs, the human connections have been the highlight.  There's no question about it.

MathMan and the kids presented me with cards before racing off to school, leaving me to thank the cats for not spelling out Happy Barfday in hairballs this year and to contemplate what to do with my day.  Write?  Read? Work out?  Accept that invitation from the Queen to come for tea? Don my tiara reserved for special occasions and strip the bed linens for laundry?

I'll probably do all of those things.  Except the Tea with the Queen thing.  She's so needy.  It's my day, you know?  I don't want to talk about her favorite Corgi's "nasty habit" or how one can't find a proper set of gloves at WalMart these days.

I looked for my tiara, but couldn't find it.  Instead, I put on Sophie's headband with the devil horns, some matching red lipstick and got busy vacuuming.  One of the nicest things someone like me can do for herself is fix it so that she doesn't think "Dear lord, why do I bother vacuuming on a Friday?" every time she strolls through the living room on her way to fill her coffee cup.  Self-care can too be practical.  It doesn't have to be all spa and chocolate, yo.

The doorbell rang and I went to answer it.  The UPS guy stood there smiling.

"Sign here."  He glanced at the top of my head.

"Okay."  I'd forgotten the horns.

He cleared his throat.  "So Halloween's coming early at your house?"

I blinked at him, then my hand shot up to my head. My fingertips rested on the satiny horns with feathers. I had a choice here, didn't I?

"Actually, it's my birthday," I said, bringing my hand down and resting it on his chest.  "And I couldn't find my tiara."

He looked down at my red nails drumming on his brown shirt and shifted the electronic signing thingy under his arm.  "Well, happy birthday." he smiled and swallowed hard.  I could see his Adam's Apple play up and down.

I patted his chest and then removed my hand.  "I suspect this package is the rest of the costume."  I held up the small package and smiled my sweetest Blanche Dubois smile.

"Are you going to try it on now?" he asked, suddenly eager. So I hadn't lost my touch.

I weighed the package in my hands.  I knew that it was really the book I'd ordered as my birthday gift.  "Well," I drawled.  "Maybe later.  Right now I have some vacuuming to do.  Unless, you'd like to come in and vacuum while I change...."

I shut off the vacuum and went to the door.  A package rested against the porch railing.  I looked up and waved to the UPS driver who was swinging up into his seat.  He gave me a wave and put the van in gear to drive away.  I reached up and patted the satin horns.

Live honestly, eat slowly, lie about your age.

I try to live honestly, but there's always room for improvement in that department.  I will dedicate myself to slower eating and savor the flavors of the birthday cake MathMan will pick up on his way home. And as for that last one, remember how I said I was half way to ninety?  A lie.

Thanks to all who've wished me a happy birthday already today.  It's a great day to turn 29!

Party games are over here at Black Magpie Theory.  No gifts, please.

Black Magpie Theory: Better

Do you know what a drum line sounds like at 5:30 a.m.?

I do.

So I survived the Friday night Lock-In at Sophie's middle school.  To be  honest with you, except for the mind-numbing effects of being awake for more than 24 hours straight, it wasn't bad.  I spent a lot of time just standing around making sure that the kids didn't get hurt.  I must hand it to the organizers of the event.  They did a great job and made the volunteer role pretty dang easy.  The event had a schedule including free play time, contests, games, lots of food and a talent show.  The thing flowed.

Sophie had a blast.  I kept my distance, letting her come to me if she needed something. It was kind of nice to see her in that new setting, running coltishly with her friends from one thing to the next.  They're all limbs at this  stage, aren't they?

During the evening, I did have the opportunity to do something specific.  You can read more about it here.

So I guess I take it back, Middle Schoolers.  You weren't so bad.  You weren't bad at all.  I witnessed genuine kindness passing between them.  Taking turns, helping each other out, not Eddie Haskell polite, but polite enough.  I held plenty of eyeglasses for kids who were doing something physical and every single one of them thanked me.

The downside is that my tail is still dragging a bit.  Instead of sleeping all day Saturday, I tried to stay on a more normal schedule.  I slept some, but my sleep deficit remains significant.  I had to drive to town to run some errands and had one of the moments where you think "Man, I don't remember driving that last stretch of road...."

Lack of sleep turned out to be a small price to pay to get back some of my hope for the future, though. I'm glad I volunteered.

How was your weekend?

Black Magpie Theory: Do As We Say, Not As We Do

I'm at Black Magpie Theory today where I'm writing about my crazy bohemian lifestyle circa 1995.  Big hair is only the beginning.

Will be back here soon.

Black Magpie Theory: A Poetry Break

I'm over at Black Magpie Theory insulting the memories of Tolkien, Lewis, Perrault and Carroll.

See you back here tomorrow, my little happy endings.

Black Magpie Theory: The Future So Bright

It's Monday.  That means I have a new post up at Black Magpie Theory. I'm blogging about pie.  Or wage suppression.  Same thing?  Depends on who made that crust.

Okay, now I have to go back to writing my J. Peterman inspired ebay descriptions and working on the manuscript which I finished going over for the first time this weekend. (yay!) and, as always, looking for the elusive job with the suppressed wages.

See you back here tomorrow, my handwoven, organic work-a-day thingamajigs.  Until then, be extraordinary.

Black Magpie Theory: Goodbye, Norma Rae

I have a new post up at Black Magpie Theory.  It's Labor Day so you can guess the subject.  Yes, I'm writing about shoes.

Black Magie Theory: The Beck Girl

Sometimes it's fun to come at the whole political commentary thing from a different angle.  That's why I'm providing some adults only entertainment today at Black Magpie Theory.  Please come on over and see if you're over 18.  We will be checking IDs.

Thanks be to Tengrain for the fabulous graphic.

See you back here tomorrow.

Black Magpie Theory: Feeling Flush

I'm doing some creative accounting over at Blackmagpie Theory. 

Stay tuned for tomorrow's exciting episode:  What Happened During My Mammogram
Including the bonus feature 50 Ways to Use Those Left Over Nipple Stickers and Save the Planet

Black Magpie Theory: I'm Fixin' to Fix These Elections

It's time for a new Molly Ivins to come on the scene. Volunteers?

See you around these parts later this week.

Oh No! My Libra Is Showing

Good/bad, yin/yang, push me/pull you.  Balance.

Teeter: I've written about downward mobility and managing expectations here.  Fun stuff, you know.

Totter:  I finished Draft One of my manuscript over the weekend.  Now on to writing the query letter, searching for agents (Thank you, Adam!) and editing.  Separately or collectively, those sound like massive jobs, but the truth is this:  having finally finished writing this story, really feeling like I've told the tale, that is the biggest thing of all.  When I wrote the last two words and thought Yes! That's it! I cannot tell you how accomplished I felt.  And accomplished is something I've been running low on lately.  Funny - this completed manuscript turned out to be the one tangible thing MathMan could point to yesterday when I did indeed stand on the metaphorical ledge and threaten to jump.

And so what if it goes into a box and is shoved to the back of the newly cleaned closet?

I've proven to myself that I can finish something.  And that, my friends, is worth every word.

Black Magpie Theory: Anyone? Anyone?

I hear you, Ben Stein.  And I'm taking steps.  Over here.

Remember, if you want me to stop kicking puppies and adjusting my boobs in public, you'd better read all those other fabulous posts, too.  There's one a day and it's all good.

See you back here tomorrow, gang.

Black Magpie Theory: That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

Oh, hello.  I'm not here today.  I'm over at Black Magpie Theory.  Panicking.  Not picnicking.  Panicking. Two different things, I assure you. Come to think of it, I'd rather be picnicking on the moors with Colin Firth, but we don't always get to choose, do we?

No, no we don't.  Damn it.

While you're there, check out the awesomeness of the other writers and don't forget to nab the rss feed so you never miss a thing.  I know how you hate to be left out.

See you here tomorrow, my darlings.

Unemployment Diary: The Day Has Come

Two assignments for you:

1.  My post at Black Magpie Theory

2. This

Black Magpie Theory: Of Angels and Angles

DCup is running her mouth again.  What do you want to bet she's stirring up trouble, too?

Since I can't manage to keep her bound and gagged all the time, I'm just going to take the day off.  I've got blogs to read, a book to write and my toenails need fresh polish.  I've got a date tomorrow with some hot young men.

While you're at Black Magpie Theory reading DCup, be sure to check out the other great writing.  It's an embarrassment of snark riches.

Did you like how I assumed?  That's me pretending to me confident.

Oh, and don't worry about DCup.  I hear she likes that bound and gagged thing.  Sometimes.