Saturday, January 07, 2006

A Few Stupid Things, ‘Cause I’m Stupid

1) Last night, after Lar attempted to cuddle with the boy, the boy pushed his big daddy away, wrinkled his nose and said, “Ew! You smell like breath shit!”
(Lar didn’t. smell like breath shit, by the way -- well, at least at that moment he didn‘t.)

I, of course, laughed way too much, then Lar punched my goiter and called me an “old, embittered hag.” We're a fun family.

2) I’m an old, embittered hag who wishes to punch a certain editor in his goiter for not complying with certain terms of a certain contract. Most certainly!

3) I may have a nasty case of strep throat, but I hate visiting the doctor, so I’ll just endure the godawful pain until the streptococcal virus invades my heart valves and I die of massive heart failure.

4) My extended family makes me want to dig out my old crack pipe and smoke crystallized Bisquick till my eyeballs roll back into my head.

5) Though this is probably the worst thing I’ve ever confessed, I can’t help but admit that I am terribly annoyed by my ninety-something grandmother. I mean, really annoyed. Like, “fucking stop being so weird and old or I’ll be forced to slap you back to 1947” kind of annoyed. God forgive me.

6) Do you think God will forgive me if I include my brothers in that trip to 1947? I realize that they weren’t even close to being alive during that time, and it might be a nightmarish experience for them to witness our father’s birth, watch Dad learn to walk, talk, and refer to that toddler as “Dad“ and stuff, but perhaps they all could find good work as lumberjacks or silversmiths or something.

&) I’ve had a couple of beers...Can you tell?

*) I miss Peter, whose wonderful blog “My Park Bench” has been down for weeks -- without previous warning, I might add. And no answer to my e-mail either. Bastard. I worry...

10) I’m over my writer’s funk and have begun the first story -- a real story as opposed to short jots and bubbly fart-like attempts at a story -- since last June. Still devastated that I lost all my work when my computer crashed this past summer, and the backup disks were corrupted, but I’ve finally come to terms, I think. The juices are flowing, I have a computer that works properly, and my searing disappointment over certain clueless publishers and dicked-up published efforts is settling into a warmish lump of steamy acceptance. Oh, it’s so hard to be a violently sensitive artist...

11) I edited this post to fix a typo in my tenth stupid thing -- "begum," which, for Christ's sake, is supposed to be "begun" -- but as I was doing so, wondered why Word didn't pick up the mistake, and in checking out the document, I discovered that "begum" is a real word!

Begum: important woman: a woman of high rank in some Muslim communities
Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2004 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

For Christ's sake.


At 9:11 AM, Blogger Bill said...

#2...I have a story for you. I'll e-mail it.

At 9:54 AM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Would this story have anything to do with a certain literary giant? A certain cantankerous, brilliant, amazing man who we genre writers worship? ;-)

***checks e-mail for the ninth time***

Holy tacos, Bill, I'm frothing at the mouth here!

At 11:51 PM, Blogger Alexis said...

Ms. Lori - I was just thinking the same thing about Peter - where is he? I am worried!
Oh, and you're hilarious.

At 8:56 AM, Anonymous Tara said...

Michele Sent me,, passing on through...

At 10:31 AM, Blogger Myfanwy Collins said...

Ms. Lori, You make me laugh. And I love the phrase "breath shit"--it's beautiful and perfect.

At 3:12 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

I know! Where, oh, where are you dear PETAH?

Alexis, perhaps you and I should head on down to Florida and shake that boy up a bit...

Thanks, Myfanwy! Yes, "breath shit" is a beautiful phrase, but darling, you don't EVER want to experience it. ;-)


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