Squashed by a 104-Pound Woman!
Taken February 12, 2016 with
Samsung Galaxy 3
I’ve had some serious “Writer’s Block” issues for the last… oh… millennium or so. I’ve come to the conclusion over the last several months that it’s not writer’s block so much as my own stubbornness that’s keeping me from writing.
But then the above event happened. In slow motion. Just like in the movies.
I had just sat down determined to Write Something, Dammit!, and was doing my “squat-sit” thing a la` this post, when I felt an odd sinking/sliding sensation, and realized that I was slowly oozing downward at a strange angle.
Eventually, I found myself in a ball on the floor, staring up at the underside of my desk.
When I managed to untangle the legs of the chair from the legs of myself, I tried to see the funny side – I kind of wished I had wired CCTV into the Belfry so I could see whether or not I had actually dissolved the chair in slow-motion or if it just felt like it – but I was just a little pissed that when I finally sat my ass down to Write Something, Dammit!, all I managed to accomplish was to collapse my only chair.
By the time I finally located the matching, unsquashed-flat chair in the lower apartment and steal it from the guy that actually lives there, I didn’t feel like writing anymore.
Ah well…. with luck, the new replacement will last me as long as the old chair did – roughly 9 years. Maybe I’ll have this book written by then, too.
New Chair…. Same as the Old Chair
Taken February 12, 2016 with
Samsung Galaxy 3
Random Song-for-the-Day: “7 Years” – Lukas Graham
"The Waitress, the Whiskey & the Handcuffs" is for sale in
digital and paper formats at
The Les Becker Bookshop.
Who – me? Scared?!
Psychology Today posted a really interesting article that crunched all our phobias down into five big fears that all of us share.
According to this article, you may not have arachnophobia – maybe you’re even amused at another person’s fear of spiders – but if the thought of being eaten by a bear keeps you from hiking in the woods when you would otherwise really enjoy a hike in the woods, then, deep down, you actually share a common fear (the fear of mutilation, believe it or not) with that guy you’re laughing at.
So, quit laughing already.
I’ve been trying off and on to make a living as a writer in one manner or another since I was a teenager. It has never failed that at some point in every one of my journeys (“This time I’m going to do it. This time, I’m not going to quit.”), someone or something has always stopped me in my tracks.
Maude on her Hog
Photo copyright either My Brother the Trespasser or My Sister Tootie
(Maude can’t remember who was standing behind the camera…)
I drove down to Teeny-Tiny Town today, having had no sleep since… well, I’m not certain when, but I’ve been writing – really writing – for real writing, so No Sleep Disease isn’t exactly a bad thing. This time.
On the way down, I saw a small plane tipped over on the four-lane median strip, surrounded by a single fire truck and a couple of cop cars. I thought I might be hallucinating at first, but then remembered that if that was the case, my imagination would have turned it into an airliner. I ought maybe check the news to be certain (I assume a plane landing on the highway might be considered news around here, anyway), but I think it’s safe to say I actually saw what I think I saw.
Yup. It’s good to know I’m not completely nuts. Ahem…*
When I got to Teeny-Tiny Town, though, and saw that photo of my mother in leathers on a motorcycle… well…. that was something I was pretty certain was all in my own mind.
Until she started to laugh, and told me the story…
Seems My Brother the Trespasser (or maybe it was a nephew – I’ve had no sleep, and my mom can’t remember…) bought himself a new ride this past spring, and went down to show it off to my mom and my sister, who were both suitably impressed. Mom was so impressed, in fact, that she told one of the aides in the Nursing Home that it was her hog.
I don’t know why, but the aide didn’t believe her!
Mom said she would prove it, and got the Trespasser/Nephew/Whoever to fit her up, put her on the bike to pose, and then had [somebody] get a couple of copies of this pic printed up. The aide displays her copy on her fridge at home. I stole the other copy, to show you all how cool my mom is…
Look real close now… she’s not pointing at you. She’s giving you the finger (yeah, yeah, she’s flipping the bird backwards – give the ol’ lady a break – she’s 85).
We had a visit to the graveyard (my dad’s monument is finally in place – his boat, sailing off into the sunset lasered into it somehow – he would have been right impressed, I think – and it’s an odd kind of comfort to see that boat on there, sailing away…), and went out for lunch before I sneaked off back home, pilfered photo safely tucked away.
On the way back, I saw an upside down tractor-trailer in the ditch, which my brain turned into a crash-landed Borg ship for a minute. The lack of armed militia tipped me back into the real world soon enough, but not before a whole ‘nother story clicked into place, waiting for me to start writing when the current project is put to bed.
Which is where I’ll be going… once I’ve pecked out a few more scenes.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “Graceland” – Paul Simon
Bear With Me Taken July 7, 2008 with Canon PowerShot A550
Busy, wow! I’m loving the night shift, but will have to re-learn “day-shift mode” for the weekends until at least after the New Year, beginning this Sunday, when I start working days for Louie. That will only be on the weekends, mind you – I’m not sure yet how I’ll deal with working 7 days a week, let alone 16 hour days, so we’re going to leave that alone.
I still haven’t managed to fit writing into the schedule… believe it or not, I’m looking at an impending move of household coming up. We have the opportunity to move up two floors in the building. We’d be giving up a sauna, but we’d be gaining walls. Ky misses walls.
We would also be gaining a bedroom each. I haven’t had a bedroom of my own since… geez,
Winter of 1993. For about 3 months. My head is full of plans on what to do with it, since I will be starting out with an empty room.
I was offered my new Landlords’ apartment a couple of week’s ago. He lives on the top two floors of the building, and plans on moving out in January. Would I like the place?
The rent is more than my finances can currently bear, however, and I regretfully decline.
He drops the rent. Hmmmmmm….. Probably not as soon as January, I sez.
He gives me the lowdown: The third floor has its own bathroom and bedroom, and a small kitchenette, he tells me. It was once a bachelor apartment, and would be perfect for the Idiot Child and the Oogily Bay Girls to hang out in. Apparently, the New Landlord is perfectly aware that my home is the Clubhouse of Oogily Bay, more often than not: the main hangout of 7 teenagers (Oogily Bay + Ray), and not only has no problem with it, but is using it to pimp out this new apartment to me.
And it’s working.
And *I* would have a bathtub again! Oh. My. God.
What will I do with four walls and a closet of my very own, though…? I’m thinking of turning Japanese as far as decor goes. Ideas?
Not-So-Random Song for the Day: “Turning Japanese” – The Vapors