Thursday, April 12, 2007

Last Post (for at least a very long time)

First, let me say thank you all for reading, whether it be just this once, or since the inception (which would be nobody, except for Generic Spammer - a belated thank you, Generic Spammer, for commenting on my original blogposts). My writing here has run its course. My original idea was to be all political and socially edgy and shit and suddenly I find I can't talk about my husband's nuts or how thoroughly annoyed I am by people with Support the Troops stickers on their cars. Which leaves me stuck with complaining about the new dishwasher and discussing the relative merits of morning and afternoon kindergarten. Dammit! I don't want to suck.

I realized the other night, as I washed, rinsed, repeated, that when I have moments alone I don't plot and invent people for fiction any more. Instead I find myself trying to compose humor into a story about a late-morning visit to the yarn store. After I replayed in my mind the sight of the enormous swaying breasticals of the kooky yarn lady and Pooey trying to stick a Hershey's miniature into her Giant Schnauzer's asshole, I realized my creativity was being sapped by my blog. Sometimes my life just isn't that entertaining, and my brain was suffering the strain of trying to make it so. After the revelation I mentally put the yarn lady and her breasticals on the soap dish and instead worked on a little scene in which a woman and man argue about the best way to landscape their yard while their grown children suffer from lack of adult-parent attention. It's a killer story, and as soon as I hit publish here I'm going to work on the opening scene in which the husband and wife wake up to find all their early spring lilacs tipped over to the point of snapping from a freak snow storm.

I'm sorry to those of you I know personally that use my blog to keep track of me and my kidlets. For you, I invite you to email me. Please? And if you're just visiting for a good, regular read, there are several blogs over on the sidebar that offer much more than I can these days (I'm not going to quit reading them - they're a bunch of clever, interesting and inspirational writers). In the event I find I'm working on some fiction and I need some input, I'll post it here with a little personal update.

Huh - what a terribly fractured farewell... oh well. That's it.


Thursday, April 05, 2007

Second to last post.

Mamalujo is some kind of Probing Questions savant. I will answer him because I have no energy to talk about the minutiae of life right now. Suffice it to say "I am here. We are well." (As I side note, I've never verbalized the unpleasant feeling I've been tip-toeing around since we made the offer on our new house. To be direct, I felt like there was a sexual predator in our neighborhood. I avoided the website wherein I could check the area for registered sex offenders - I just didn't want to know. It turns out I was right, but the man is dead and gone now. He was the former occupant of our house. Do I feel icky? No. I feel like we shooed him out.)

1. How well do you sleep?
Not. The baby still sleeps with us, and he preferes to be perpendicular to the flow. If it weren't for him it would still be Not. I have extremely vivid, plot-driven dreams and wake up frequently, shaken and scared. Or sad. Or ecstatic. Or thoughtful. Regardless, there's never a dull moment in my bed. Ha.

2. Do you like backpacking?
Literally? Yes. I love accessories, and backpacks are high on my list. It's very satisfying to feel the cushioned curve of backpack straps slung over my shoulders. I never did the one-strap cool kid thing. Backpacking in nature? In theory yes. My husband is a mountaineering sort and yearns for the day when the kids are old enough for us all to do the Swiss Family Robinson thing. At this point there's no opportunity and so I don't even think of it. But the idea of not showering for several days and eating hotdogs by a campfire is lovely. Just don't say the word T-I-C-K. That'll turn me into a quivering mound of chickenshit girly-girl in a heatbeat.

3. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?
The Ngorongoro crater. I don't think it will ever happen.

4. Is there a hobby you want to take up, but never have?
No. Well, yes. I've pretty much tried everything I'm even remotely interested in, but never to the point where I've been able to say "I can ___" whatever. Play guitar, do HTML, bead, skateboard. I want to be the best at something the minute I try it, and at this point in my life I can't be. So I quit before I struggle. I want to take up guitar. I want to be able to play Closer to Fine and scream out "I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHIN ABOUT MY LIFE"

5. Have you seen someone die?
Yes. Two people. Once, in college during an intramural basketball game, a seemingly healthy 19-year-old boy had a heart-atack running back on defense and was dead in less than 15 minutes. I watched him get shocked by the paramedics twice before anyone thought we should clear the gym. Purplish foam bubbled from his mouth. That's what I remember. I don't recall what he looked like, but he was wearing red nylon shorts and a black t-shirt. A year later I was the afternoon weight-room attendant in the same gym complex and a 65-year-old man running laps in the humid track above the amphitheater-shaped swim stadium dropped dead of a heart attack. They yelled for help and I ran from across the hall. Another jogger was giving him CPR, but the old man was so terribly ashen and limp. I went back to work, knowing he was dead.