Saturday, April 29, 2006

Daydreams of Pullitzers

A friend asked me yesterday if I'd read the column on the back page of our weekly entertainment section of the newspaper. No. I had not. Remember about my mom? The fever and stuff? Anyway, I know there's a woman's picture and she writes something about Missoula and something something. I don't read her. Apparently it said last Thursday that she's not going to write any more for personal reasons. And apparently there was another article in which the editor of the section asked for submissions/cover letters/resumes to take the woman's place. And apparently I had a mild anxiety attack. Do you remember not very long my dream job was to be a syndicated columnist? Yes, I did say that.

I'm in the process now of composing a cover letter and pulling together some writing samples. And you can help. If you've read anything here that stuck in your mind will you tell me what it was? I'm thinking I might pull out a couple entries as samples, in addition to telling the editor of this site. What do you think?

Friday, April 28, 2006

Friday Concoction

So much to say, so little motivation... You feeling me, dawg? It's gorgeous here today. It is truly a perfect day. Madeleine is going on a field trip to a cattle ranch this morning and insisted on wearing all of her cowboy garb. Including a rope. Only in Montana, right? She nearly peed her pants in the car, she was so excited. Or maybe it was from the 3 giant cups of milk. Either way, it was a rush to the bathroom and then a violent struggle with her purple sparkly cowbow belt at preschool. Jim's on a weekend get-away to Atlanta with a bunch of boys he graduated with. They were sorta arguing back and forth about who's town to go to this year, when Bill piped up "Atlanta's got the biggest aquarium in the world!" Damn. He knows Jim too well. It was all I could do to keep him from bringing his snorkel and Speedo.

Hey, nice pecker.

Links and Asundry

  • Tonight's my BIL's birthday party and we're going to see Sir-Mix-Alot. Ya know, Baby Got Back? He's playing at a little dive bar here in town. I can't even imagine.
  • Motorcycle unibrow. Reminds me of my brothers. Hey boys? It's okay to wax.
  • This morning I was considering cutting all my hair off like Mollie Sue. I consider this about once a day, but earlier I was REALLY considering it. So what does a good blogger do? Google 'short hair cuts.' And holy hell, this is what came back. Remember that movie Scared Straight where the prison guys try to scare bad kids? This may have scared me long.
  • Which reminds me about yesterday Top Model thing. When I was looking for a picture of Mollie Sue I found a couple ANTM chats and EVERYONE is totally against the fixing-of-the-gap thing! Yes, vindicated. And also, some guy said this about Nnenna, which I hope I can remember and repeat in conversation some day, but most likely will screw it up and sound dumb, "That girl was drier than a saltine and rocks sandwich."
  • I admit, over the top. But can you hardly resist? I mean really? Too cute.
  • A question for you: I most likely will do my best to let my kids choose their own friends as they grow up, but I certainly will not allow them to play with children at this age (3-7?) that are not kind. But what if a child is not very bright and wants to play with your child all the time? It's crazy un-PC, but wouldn't you prefer to find other children that would perhaps stimulate your child more? I'm willing to take a lashing for this. Really. Let me have it, if you think I'm being a bitch/snob/wack-job.

Now, I've mentioned in the past Jim has a thing for pumpkins of the giant variety. There will be more told later, but 'todays retrospect is a tribute to what was last year's crop and how this year's is faring thus far.

Then (about a quarter the size he expected - but isn't the rest so pretty pretty?)

Now (these are Super Seeds, about the size of a half-dollar. Can you see the garden Jim built in the background. Pergolas rock)

Thursday, April 27, 2006

There's not one good Mexican restaurant in this town.

As requested, I set up a new blog for the entire story, Life in the Valley. Now, someone with legal expertise (*ahem* Arabella?) - can you tell me what legal jargon I should put in the sidebar to prevent copycats? And also, someone with CSS smarts (*ahem* Nancy?), can you tell me how to fix the margins so the sidebar isn't so prominent?

Now, on to some business... Nnnenna (left) got kicked off! But guess what! She's boring! I like Danielle (right). She's my new fave.

I don't see why she has to quit being so 'country.' Giselle doesn't have to quit being so foreign. What - if you're American you have to sound like Matt Lauer or else. Or else what? I don't get it. Also, any African American readers? I think I've heard that it's kind of trendy to have a gap in your teeth. And bow-legs - or is that old school? What was that line from SaltNPeppa? Anyway, I liked Danielle's gap before it was fixed. I'm wondering if this is Tyra's personal preference, as if the gap was too ghetto for her, while the rest of us thought it was unique and interesting. Can anyone shed light?

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Writin Wednesday

Here it is, the final installment. Now I'm going to revise, revise, revise. Which, and I apologize in advance, I will be doing on Wednesdays in the next couple weeks, so bear with me. If you can think of anything negative to say, anything at all, I would appreciate it. Do you hate Lanny's name? Does he bore you? Do you think the whole thing reeked like the restroom at ChuckE.Cheese? Do you need more physical descriptions of places/people? Do you think I should shower more often? Good thing blogs aren't scented...

Life in the Valley, Conclusion

(I pulled out the text to save space - go here for the entirety of the story)

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Miss America, you can kiss my ass with all your annoying anti-help.

Here's something that really pissed me off yesterday. Oprah was on, and I never watch Oprah because of the insidious interrupting of guests. It is a character trait I hate. She was talking to young women that hated themselves. I won't go into the big Huh? about the girl who was a model but apparently thought she was so ugly that she would break mirrors with her Manolos. But it's a real problem, and the saddest part was the 4-year-old babygirl that hated her mom because she wouldn't let the little thing wear make-up to cover her ugliness.

ANYWAY, the big tidy solution to all their problems was to bring on Phylicia Rashad and Vanessa Williams to talk about how they had real self-esteem issues as children but learned to love themselves from the inside. VANESSA FUCKING WILLIAMS. I mean, granted Phyl was a little fugly as a kid, but she's, well, she's hot now. And rich. And famous. And important. And respected. And married to someone hot and famous. And it bears repeating, beautiful. When was Miss America ever even ugly? Is a 17-year-old overweight unattractive girl watching this show going to be encouraged by Miss America or beautiful Claire Huxtable? No, she's going to run to the nearest meth pipe and say, "Deadly chemicals, take me away from this world where you can only find self-worth if you're gorgeous and successful." It's like Paris Hilton saying, "You don't need money to be happy! You can have wonderful life experiences even if you're poor!" Except I don't think she can string together full sentences.

So, come on people. Let's make a list of conventionally unattractive people that are real-life role models. People that find success and self-worth because of the merits of their character, intelligence or other abilities. I'll start. Madeleine Albright. And Bill Gates. I'm going to send the list in to Oprah as suggested alternatives. And I'll tell her let someone else talk for once.

Monday, April 24, 2006

I'm listening to Sam Cook right now, and that has nothing to do with this pointless post.

My mom's here still. She's watching Quinn right now while I get my fix. I mean write. It was an entirely uneventful weekend so don't expect a surprising Murder She Wrote twist or anything like that. Quinn had a high fever Friday night and Saturday, so we sat around staring at him and commenting on how hot he was for a couple days. Jim bbq'd a chicken. My mom played Mah Jong on the computer. Madeleine raced around the house with her stuffed ponies strapped into her baby stroller. I wandered from room to room checking on the status of the festivities, occasionally commenting to whomever that the baby was hot. Did that sound whiny? It was actually nice. Comfortable.

Do you want to see the new room? The carpet was finished just in time, Jim moved in the bed (and made it! can you imagine?), and Madeleine and I picked out a lamp and a couple stinky candles which were promptly moved out of the room when their stinkiness was revealed, and my mom (Sheila, if you're wondering) nestled in. She insists it's comfy, but I find it a little frightening in a Blair Witch Project kind of way. Tell me what you think of this color scheme, and remember, it must match the (gag, gag, wretch) berber. Which is laughable because the berber looks like vomited oatmeal, and what doesn't match that?

Yesterday I tried to get my tickets to B-List Blogfest and my shit credit card company wouldn't let me fly out of anywhere except Seattle or Portland, and the closest I could get to our Top Secret Destination was a 5 hour drive. This shit company I've paying exhorbitant fees to for the last 6 years so that eventually I would get a free plane ticket has effectively stuck its finger in my eye. Screw you Chase. I'm cutting up my card right now, even though it has a really pretty picture of my college bell tower on it. (I got sucked in because of this fact. Go ahead, laugh, but the bell tower is really pretty. And you may have realized I have a thing for the pretty-pretty.)

Okay, I can hear the vertebrae in my mom's back compressing from the weight of my baby (did I tell you how hot he feels?), so I'm going to give her a break. Tomorrow morning she leaves, and today we'll spend some time arranging for some chiropractic care after she gets off the plane in Portland.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Cleaning House

My mom's coming tomorrow. I haven't seen her for 10 months - she's been traveling around the world with a backpack and a pension. Lucky lady, you say? Yes, maybe so. But she's also paid her dues for the last 63 years and deserves every good thing that comes her way. Which brings me to this: I hate bur-bur. blech-blech! Remember several years ago when I posted some pictures of the progress on our room downstairs? Today A Guy is texturing the walls and tomorrow as my mom's plane bounces into town the carpet will be installed. And it's fucking burbur! My mom bears 4 children, two incompatible husbands, many years as a single mom, a trip around the world complete with biting insects, and I give her burbur! Okay, so it could be worse, and maybe it's my own personal demon, but I really hate the carpet. It was cheap, and we're moving soon so I had to do it. But for the record, I'm offended by it.

And now I've gotta get my ass in gear and clean some stuff. So I'm starting with the pile of notes lying around... here they are:

  • Eddie Veder was on SNL the other night. He had longish hair and a beard and looked exactly like a young Willie Nelson. Now I've fallen in love a little bit with Eddie Veder. And it's not weird and twisted like my crush on Willie! Here - look at this picture.
  • Would anyone watch TV if there was no remote control? Reality TV caters to the remote. We'd all be watching Dynasty still, I think, without the clickie.
  • On the Today Show last week they highlited a new cookbook encorporating (incorporating? hell. I always screw that up.) Twinkies. Before I ran to the bathroom to vomit they showed Twinkie sushi. Where are the censors when we need them?
  • Isn't it cool that in chess the Queen gets to go everywhere and be so powerful and the King can't do shit?
  • Remember that Ray-Ban commercial a while ago where all the vampires are hanging out and the sun comes up and then they all put on their Ray-Bans and laugh with their fangs sticking out everywhere? That was pretty scary, but cool.
  • Here are a couple of things I've been subjecting people to lately that cause them feign interest: details of my head cold, descriptions of my dreams, details of my childrens' head colds, complaining about changing the ink cartridge in my printer, details of my stomach x-ray (except the part about the really hairy radiologist - I'm pretty sure that part was funny), about the time I was thinking about Patsy Cline and then she came on the radio, and all the stuff I'm saying right now...
  • Madeleine went to the dentist last week and they painted her teeth with a fluoride film (instead of those weird foam trays full of poison). Yesterday she asked for some jelly beans and then went into her room for a while. She came out later and had crushed all the jelly beans and stuck them to her teeth. She said, "Just like the dentist, right Mommy?" Yes, except right now your teeth are rotting and could fall out at any moment...
  • You know that song "Send Me on My Way" by Rusted Root? I've been trying to download it forever because it makes me so happy and makes the world seem so sunny and full of chocolate. Except for the last 15 years I thought the name of the song was "Simmy and the Wave."
  • Why do old guys wear hats so they're just perched on top of their heads? And why do people always put ridiculous-looking too-big hats on handicapped people?

Now, there's a house full of dog hair calling my name...

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Writin' Wednesday

Whew! Still coming down off of the excitement of Bunco with the neighbor ladies last night. Man, can they party. Mary Ellen and Midge were mix-masters and Jean-next-door and Jean-across-the-street bust out with some phat new steps. I won a begonia.

I think we finally sold our truck. Devin will be the proud new owner of Purply on Friday and now I can finally have an Outback, as is written in the handbook: Mother of Two Children in Missoula. Purply got a once-over by Devin's mechanic yesterday and the follow-up note from Charlie in the shop said, and this is an exact quote, "This is a nice fucken truck. I'd jump on this deal with two feet." I was so proud.

and now...

Life in the Valley, Part VI

Ole’s is a locals’ bar, squeezed between Red’s Shoe Barn and Lanny’s cousin’s law office on Main Street. It has shuffleboard and pool and a jukebox full of country music and Frank Sinatra. It’s usually blaring Dwight Yoakam – Bill’s favorite, and the patrons yell and throw things whenever a tourist picks My Way. Above the tables along the wall stretches a giant fishtank full of piranha. The little, toothy fish consistently end up in the toilet when too many cigarette butts clog the filter. Lanny and his brother and all the others find themselves drinking and playing shuffleboard at Ole’s a couple nights a week when their girlfriends or ex-wives kick them out. The carpet of Lanny’s car has a thin layer of cornmeal embedded in it from the floors around the shuffleboard tables.

The alley between the print shop and Red’s Shoe barn was dark, and Lanny turned down it to the parking lot behind the bar. He saw Bill’s rig next to the light pole and parked next to it. He turned off the engine and sat there, his hand still on the key, waiting for the song to finish. He could see a neon glow through the tiny window on the back door to Ole’s. A darkness passed over the window and the door flew open with a burst of noise from Ole’s jukebox. A couple girls walked out together, laughing. One of them caught the door before it closed and yelled something back into the bar before letting it swing shut again. As they came closer, Lanny recognized the shorter one as Dawn’s cousin. Penny, Jenny? Lanny couldn’t remember. She was just out of high school. Lanny slid down in his seat, shrinking into the shadow until the girls passed. Dawn would be pissed, he was sure. That girl, Danny, he remembered, what was she doing at Ole's on a Tuesday night? He thought he remembered she was a good softball player. Must’ve seen her name in the paper half a dozen times.

Not much Dawn could do about it, but it occurred to Lanny that Dawn should know what was going on, and as soon as possible. He made up his mind to go talk to her. Bill would be telling everyone that goddamn story about that hitchhiker chick again, anyway. Probably read it in Fantasy Forum or something. Lanny snorted when he imagined a girl standing outside the Yellow Bay store with “Fuck Me” written on a piece of cardboard. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the music.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Friday Concoction

Last night I had an erotic dream about this guy. I was a single mom and had found a beautiful cutting board on the beach earlier in the day when I was walking with Quinn. He lived across the hall from me and was an important chef. I brought the board over to him and asked him the best way to clean it and he gave me a lecture on the importance of oiling your cutting boards. He was kind of an ass, and I laughed at his self-importance, then suddenly I was sleeping on a giant cozy futon with soft white sheets and warm duvet. Quinn was asleep in the other room, and when I sat up, wanting to go check on him, Chef sat up suddenly and said, "You look so different from her. It's nice to wake up to something different." He was on the other side of the futon, leaning on an elbow, watching me stretch and scratch my head. He reached over, tentatively, and felt my hair. Then suddenly he was kissing me, hard. I couldn't breathe and was getting that weak, first-kiss, feeling in my stomach. I reached for his arm, which was holding the back of my head, and his wrist felt like a twig. I jumped back and he looked at me shocked. I ran into the bathroom, breathing heavily and sat on the toilet. "Are you okay?" he called in to me. "Yes, yes. I'm all right. Just out of breath. I'll just be a minute." The toilet paper roll didn't have any toilet paper, just coils and coils of extension cords. I sat there, wondering if I would be able to wipe with an extension cord...

I had a discussion with a friend the other day about how to celebrate Easter. She's vaguely religious and her husband's an atheist. Thus far I've told Madeleine Easter is a celebration of the coming of spring, and the Easter Bunny gives all the kids presents and candy (if they're good and don't push their little brothers over when they're just learning how to walk and if they don't say o-KAY!!! in that exasperated tone when asked to pick their dripping sippy cups off of the floor) because the EB's so happy all the flowers are coming out and babies are being born. On Christmas I do an additional Solstice kind of explanation of why and how we celebrate, but also we talked about how a very kind and good man was born around that day and many people like to celebrate his birthday too. This works for us, but her cousins are very Catholic and we always go to their house for Easter dinner. I guess I'm not so much worried, but curious what will happen. Madeleine can be very convincing. And which story seems more believable (and palatable) to 4-year-olds? Happy bunnies with presents or dead guys stumbling out of caves...

Can you tell I'm melancholy? That dream put me in the weirdest mood this morning.

Here, maybe this section will snap me out of it...

Links and Asundry

  • I read a couple quotes by this comic (Eugene Mirman, if you wanna google). I can' think of how to describe him, so here's a sample joke: I was talking to this girl, and she was like, "IT's okay for me to fag because my brother is gay." That's a terrible excuse. The reason it's okay for me to say fag is because I'm full of hate.
  • Did you know Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris made a record together. It's like mixing chocolate and peanut butter in one great snack. Brilliant.
  • I didn't buy any of those laptop bags from the other day. I got premature buyer's remorse and was already berating myself for my poor selection. So I carted my new brushed-steel baby to Liquid Planet in a backpack full of diapers yesterday. By the way, check out some of the cool coffee paraphenilia.
  • Did I say I couldn't decide on a laptop bag? I just found this one. It's funky but grown-up. What do you think?
  • I don't have an iPod because when would I ever be able to put on earphones? Tell me!! When?? But if I did, I would put it in this, yes iWood. heh.
  • Token pretty thing. But really, gorgeous, don't you think?

Then (that's me, front and center - yes, those are my real teeth. They fit a little better now.)

Now (Tiny's in the braided pigtails.)

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Writin Wednesday

As you most likely didn't notice I put a links section in the sidebar for the previous four sections of the story. I'm watching my friend's little girl so can't elaborate much on how hard it was and what an enormous sacrifice it was to make the sidebar change. I know, I'm so sorry...

Life in the Valley, Part V

Christine thrusts the bottle of beer that she’s been holding at him and he takes it. She steps around him and walks out of the kitchen. Lanny stays there, staring at the sink, at the spot on the edge of the counter where her back had been resting. He takes a pull on the cold beer.

When he finishes the bottle he follows Christine back to the couch. She’s sitting close to the arm, running her fingers through her thick black hair. Lanny wants to pet it. The glow from the TV in the darkened room casts a sheen on the thick clump she is holding over her shoulder. She runs her fingers rhythmically through it, grooming it.
“Your hair looks pretty,” he says.
She nods slightly, not taking her eyes off the screen.
He scoots closer to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she drops her hands in her lap as she leans against him. Her head smells of soap and body. Of her body. He leans over and puts his nose into the crown of her head, breathing deeply.
“How’s Katie.”
“Fine. Good. She’s got spring break next week. I think she’s going to her dad’s. Maybe that’s when I’ll go to Spokane.”
After a moment Lanny says, “You want to take her to a movie this weekend or something?”
“Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe. Lanny, I gotta go to bed.” Christine sits up and ties her hair back in it’s elastic.
Lanny bends to put his boots back on and says without looking, “All right. Um, maybe, you know, I’ll stop by tomorrow after work?” He looks up at her and she shrugs.
“Sure. Whatever.”
They stand together and Lanny hugs her, again breathing deeply, his nose to her head. Separating, Lanny leans down to kiss her and she turns her chin up to him, but pulls away when he presses too hard on her mouth.
After brief goodbyes, Lanny goes to his car. When he feels for the keys in his jacket pocket his hand finds the Skittles he bought for Katie and he glances back to the door. Christine is looking out the thin curtain. He waves, and she waves and closes the curtain. Within a moment the glow from the TV is extinguished and Lanny stands in the dark, kneeding the Skittles bag and staring at the darkened window. He gets in his car and heads for windy, dangerous road that leads up out of the flood plain. Maybe Bill's at Ole's playing shuffleboard.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006


There are a couple more meaningful things I've wanted to discuss lately, but I just got this*, and I'm all atwitter. I spent this morning shopping for these laptop bags, because I'm commercial like that. But I know many of you come to me for the fun and frivolity, so let's make a little game. Can you pick out which of these bags made me want to vomit?
Number 1
Number 2
Number 3
Number 4
Number 5

Now, you may know which one I hated - which one do I like best?

And do you have any more suggestions, because I relish any additional excuse to shop online.

*Lest you think I'm spoiled and not deserving, remember how I popped out a baby last May? Well, it turns out we forgot to claim the extra dependent on Jim's W4, so we've been paying the bills in Iraq by mistake for the last 10 months. Gist is some cash is coming back!

Monday, April 10, 2006

What I did for summer vacation.

Have you noticed I haven't been coming around as much lately? It's not you. It's me. No really - I'm just not in that place right now. I need to find myself. I need to explore... Have you ever been on the receiving end of that speech? I have. Twice. Both times the dickheads went on to date/screw girls I knew within ONE DAY. Ahhh, college life. But anyway, really I haven't been coming around here as much, and here's a short catalogue of why:

1) House hunting!! and some more !!! because I adore house hunting. It's a kind of obsession of mine to constantly check the online listings for houses I would rather live in and that would my life infinitely happier and baby bunnies would fall from the sky every day. Here's one. And here's another. The first is too much money. The second has a small backyard, unaccomodating for the giant pumpkin Jim grows every summer. We're like the Seinfelds of house-hunting.

2) Babies. Quinn is 11 months old today. He enjoys long walks on the beach and quiet candlelight dinners. He also wakes up clapping every morning.

3) Knittin. I started 10 days ago, and I got this to show. My brother Tobin and his wife are having a baby as I write this, and apparently the hat will not be finished in time. But looky the pretty stripe. The lady in the shop suggested I crochet as well, and i recoiled in horror. I'm not sure why. Something about the word crochet seems so Little House, whereas the US Women's Soccer team knits! (I've also had the same aversion to croissants my whole life. Are they good? I don't know. I just don't like the word.)

4) My various ailments. Including this cold. Allllllwaaaaaayyyyyyys siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick. Waaaaaaaaaa.

5) And because the well is dry, I'll leave you with a couple more pictures. Jim and my boobs at the party. And a pre-Easter find-the-baby game. Do you see him?

Happy Monday.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Friday Concoction


Safari ate my post 3 TIMES!!!! I will injure someone. I will I will I will I will!!!!

Okay, so I'm not going to type, for the 4th FUCKING TIME, the borderline funny and not-really entertaining stuff about my cold and my attire for the thingy tonight. Sorry. You'll have to go find your borderline funny somewhere else. Like my previous posts. And shut up about saving my stuff in the middle because that shit will get you mean scowls in the direction of your comment.

Bleh. Okey-dokey! Feeling much better now.

Links and Assundry

  • Is TomKat making you gag on your own saliva? Here's the latest. Please join me in boycotting all future Crazy Tom Crap Blockbusters. (and this means videos too. step AWAY from the Risky Business, you!)
  • I joined MySpace at the suggestion of a friend and within two days had been contacted by people that knew me back in the day. One was from a guy that said this: "I know you! I used to watch you play basketball, you were good. Do you remember me? I used to go to all your home games..." So I checked his profile, and the picture showed an unshaven 60-year-old man in sweatpants. Uh-huh. Ew. (Is it also ew that I remember him?)
  • Jaye linked to this site in her last post and I'm so freakin mad I can't do it because the world hates Apple. Will someone do it for me if I send you a picture of myself?
  • This is a gorgeous black vintage overcoat. The individual running this website may be handicapped. What the hell?
  • I was driving home from Les Schwab yesterday and I said to myself Why don't I like Bjork? Because I really liked Dancer in the Dark, even though I cried hysterically, and I thought her swan costume at the Oscars was funny and it was awesome when Joan Rivers mask, I mean face cracked in half. So today I looked her up and was about to watch a new video and guess what! It crashed my computer Three Consecutive Times. Why did I go back, you ask? Because she was wearing a fitted bed sheet and her boyfriend was a kitty cat dressed up in jeans and a t-shirt. (I was about to link to the video AGAIN. I am not smart sometimes.)

Today's tribute is to Carson, my little brother. Tars, please move closer. I miss you and you need to be teased much more often. Except if you ever stick your finger in my armpit again I will punch you.

Then (Carson does not tan. Or did I need to say that? Tobin really isn't gay, even though I dreamed he was last night.)

Now (looky how pretty his fiancee is. so pretty and smart and stuff.)

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Helloooo!!! hellohellohellohello

Any and all advice is welcome here.

1) Who would be willing to help me fix up my site a little? I have some new pictures I'd like to meld into a new banner, I want to do a sidebar thing on what I'm listening to/reading, and put my links in a scroll-down list. Any volunteers? Or suggestions for someone I could pay a little to do it?

2) Do you have a iBook or Mac Book? I'm considering getting one, and want to hear some reviews.

3) What is the easiest, yummiest thing you've cooked recently? I'm hungry.

4) Do you think Fox rigged it so Mandisa would lose because Sony-or-whatever-big-record-company-is-calling-the-shots didn't think a heavy black woman would sell records?

5) Do you ever get your eyebrows waxed at the cheap mall places? Don't you worry you'll look like Joan Rivers?

6) I have to go to a black-tie and jeans benefit auction tomorrow night. What the hell does this mean for a woman to wear?

Can you help a sister out here?

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Writin Wednesday

I was the parent helper in pre-school this morning. I learned a few new things: Charlie can not be left alone with the painting project, Anika picks her nose and eats it, in a pinch Thayer can be fed Styrofoam instead of crackers and cheese, and Will's parents do not like Bush ("Miss E, it would be a really bad thing if George Bush died." "Oh? Not everyone thinks that way, Will." "Yes, Miss E, but if Bush died, the Dick Cheneys would take over and Dick Cheneys are Sea Monsters!").

So, here we go with Part IV...
(here's Part I, Part II, and Part III)

Life in the Valley

Lanny pulls into the gravel driveway in front of Christine’s trailer. For a moment, he sits in the car, listening to the pings in the engine. Her porchlight is off, but he can see the TV glow through the thin curtain covering the window in her front door. He gets out of the car and stretches, bending backwards, his arms thrown up into the damp night air. The trailer creaks slightly when he steps up to the door, and he slowly opens it and steps inside. Christine is stretched out on the couch, sleeping. One arm is curled under her, her hand cradling her head, the other arm is hanging off the couch, the remote control lying on the floor.

Lanny picks up the remote and changes the channel. He finds ESPN and eases himself onto the couch at Christine’s feet. She jerks awake when the couch creaks, then sits up, blinking at the TV. Lanny opens both arms to her. He motions to her to lay down against him, waving his hands at the wrist, but she continues to stare at the TV, not quite awake. She stands suddenly and goes to the kitchen. He shrugs, kicks his work boots off and watches a few more highlights. When a commercial comes on, he follows Christine to the kitchen.

She’s leaning against the sink, holding a beer in both hands at her stomach, and Lanny almost laughs, but stops. He nods at the beer, eyebrows raised.

“What’s going on?” He asks. He looks in the refrigerator for another beer. Strange. She must’ve only bought one. He turns around, and Christine stares at his dirty jeans.

After a pause she says quietly, “They’re trying to mess with my hours at work. Paula says she won’t do evenings any more and Janice, you know she won’t switch because of that thing with Marci, and, well...” Her voice trails off and she continues to stare at Lanny’s Levis. Then she looks up.

“Lanny, I’m pregnant.”

“Ha! What?” He smiles, but it fades quickly. “You’re serious. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m not going to have it. I can’t anyway, you know. There’s no way...” She stops, biting her lip, then rushes on. “My cousin knows a clinic in Spokane. It’s no big deal. I can probably do it next week when Katie’s at her dad’s. So, like, don’t worry about it, you know? It’s no big deal. Okay? I thought you should know, that’s all.”

He doesn’t answer. He looks at the beer in her hand. It’s sweating and he feels a shiver on his back as if something cold has just touched him. He swallows hard. He looks at the window next to the refrigerator, at Christine’s reflection. She’s biting her bottom lip. Her black hair has come loose from the rubber band at the back of her neck and her eyes are covered by the cape of it. He looks back to her and she’s staring at him. Lanny goes to her, arms out, to hug her, but she shrinks back against the sink, and he stops. She thrusts the bottle of beer that she’s been holding to her chest at him and he takes it. She steps around him and walks out of the kitchen. Lanny stays there, staring at the sink, at the spot on the edge of the counter where her back had been resting. He takes a pull on the cold beer.

Saturday, April 01, 2006


Look how bad Pooey wants to be up there. I admit, it did look damn fun.