Target Acquired

Yeah. It hit me last evening, before dinner. Only a day before my oldest daughter's birthday party. Can I say that I now have a new appreciation for vomiting in the wee hours since your stomach has had time to digest. I won't go into the degrees of chunkiness, just let it be known that I have changed my opinion.

So now I'm dealing with sore abdomen and back muscles from throwing up. When I was younger I believed it was important to stay in shape in case you had to hang from somewhere high up for a long period of time. Whether it be off a cliff, a high rise, high tension lines - what have you. Obviously you're up there due to an escape attempt from a psychopath and/or mercenaries.

Now that I'm old, I believe you need to stay in shape because you don't want sore muscles after a night of puking. So to that end I've put in an order for the Hawaii chair. Because really - who doesn't want to get fit while they sit?

Blazing Bullseye on my Back

The flu has struck in the household, and I'm the only one who hasn't gotten it yet. All have struck at an obscene time of the morning. Why is it that all puking must commence at 4 a.m.?

So I've been doing laundry and cleaning obsessively. Decontamination showers have been installed at all entrances to the domicile. But I'm just waiting to be the next to fall victim to the virus. I feel like I've got a target on my back, just waiting to start puking.

I've been fighting off migraines this month, too. They haven't gone full blown, but they're getting closer. I haven't had one since I was in college, though I had them almost regularly in my adolescence. They were rather debilitating. I would usually be off from school for three days before being able to go back. And I had one of those mothers who would only let you off from school if you had a fever, were throwing up and bleeding out of your ears - all at the same time. I have a feeling it will only go away unless I let it go full force and work its way through my system. I just don't have that kind of time.

But if I did, I'd get a three day vacation full of unbelievable pain. Right about now it's looking tempting.

Gotta go restock my supply of lye and bleach and refill the decontamination shower. We'll see if I start vomiting before the end of the day.

Ava's Writing is So Cliched. . .

How cliched is it?

It's so cliched that at the end of her story she should just have a deranged lighthouse keeper led away in hand cuffs muttering, "I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling kids."

Attempt #2

I worked yesterday on my presentation for CPRW - When A Slap Across the Face Just Won’t Do: Inserting Realism into Kick Butt Heroines. Still not sure about the first half of the title. I'm trying not to dwell on how many people from the group who this won't be very useful to. It seems to me that a large percentage of the group write sweet romances or contemporary ones without the need for their protagonist to kick any asses.

I'm trying not to psych myself out. I'm fully expecting to break out into hives and make a complete fool of myself. Which will mean I never show my face there again. Not that I'm actually writing right now anyway. Whew. Gotta stop this spiral down the porcelain highway before it turns into more of what has been going on this month.

Saw the new Harry Potter last night. I liked it, but even after two and a half hours I wanted more detail. It made me want to read the series again. I have other stuff in my tbr pile, though. Neuromancer, Freedom Writer’s Diary, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, Slaughterhouse 5. You know, some light reading.

R.I.P Les Paul

Les Paul passed away on August 13, 2009. Not only an outstanding guitarist in his own right, but and innovator and inventor that contributed greatly to the music industry and specifically rock and roll. A sad day for for the music world.

Attempt #1

Here's attempt number one for trying to make it back from wherever it is that I've been. Plans for the destruction of the isolation booth I've been spending so much time in are filed with the appropriate offices - county and local. So it shouldn't be long before the wrecking crews get here. In the mean time, I'll try and put myself out there again.

My best friend works in a state prison. I love the stories she begins with, "So I was at the prison . . ." My absolute favorite was the one that began, "So, I was at the prison talent show . . ." I had to stop her right there and ask the question. "They have a talent show in prison?" Apparently it's a whole competition. I think they used to compete state wide, other prisons' winners versus each other. But I digress.

She's works with the general population everyday. One of the inmates she knows passes his time by making up new slang terms and seeing how long it takes to make their way around the prison. I don't know how original these are, but here are some that she said caught on.

Ca-ra-na-zy ~ when a guy is past crazy. Man, that boy is ca-ra-na-zy!
Selling wolf tickets - when someone is crying wolf. especially used on the basketball court when somebody's trying to draw a foul. Dude, he's doin' nothing but selling wolf tickets.
You're butt's hungry - when an inmate has an obvious wedgie. Dang, is your butt hungry today.

That's enough re-education for today. I let the inspection on my motorcycle run out. Gotta go make a call to get it in the shop right quick. Later.

Intermission

I'm taking a break for a bit. Consider it a hiatus.

I leave you in Bill Wither's capable hands. I've been listening to this and lots of good covers of it for a couple days. I'd really like to find a good reggae version.



Enjoy.