it is not finished – i open and look at the fairly well-aligned scraps, i knit my eyebrows in a very studious way, put my fingers over the keyboard – remove them again, take a sip of coffee, scroll up and down, sigh deeply and with much thought, fold my lip between my fingers, adjust the font size, another sip of coffee, wonder what will happen in chapter 7, rub the furrow between my brows, glance across the road at the llama standing at the mailbox white on white in the snow staring at me and i think ’surely that llama can’t actually see me from here, if nothing else the glare on the window would keep him from looking in’ another sip of coffee – minimize the window, go to the front door to take a better look at the llama who by this time is taking a shit because that’s what all animals i make eye contact with these days DO – they take a shit - then i frown and go back to my seat, pick up the laptop, open the window again, cut three to four lines that definately do not fit, say “adam, do you want more eggs?” ”no, i just want to crash cars.” save the document, close it – fast forward 8 hours, repeat…..
headcold gravity. my legs are simply too heavy to do anything domestically productive besides cook, and do a little laundry – i guess what i mean to say is i will continue to step over matchbox cars as i walk past the precarious pile of dirty dishes until possibly thursday. the sky is no color. my brain and eyes feel veeeeery far back inside my skull, even further distanced by my glasses. adam is bored with me. he’s headcold heavy, too, and wants toys brought to him. i get it. i’m not doing it, but i get it. if someone would bring me coffee i would rather have it that way. i will fetch him tissues and juice and popsicles and food, but i will not bring him new matchbox cars or a different comb to work on my little ponies’ rat’s nest hair. eric is as we are, only putting in 12 hour days at the lab regardless. i would have him here. snotty and in his pajamas with us.
i like makka pakka the best. i get that, collecting rocks and washing random things. i have a lot of rocks, and they are very clean.
february 1st i go LIVE with my second ever online published (anywhere published) story on http://thundadome.com/ , in the Bleeding Hearts issue. i’ll list that in my hopeful Things of Mine page when it comes to be. it’s a stripper story, an idea given me by angela and cropped in half for the purposes of fitting the wordcount and somehow becoming a better story…. i have a vampire story that might work for the next issue but don’t want to push my luck, i have sleep to get and feedback to give and am waiting to hear back from a couple other places about different stories and there’s always CHAPTER 2 to be fixing, and i do not want to overwhelm one place with a kind editor with story-pressure… also i think the vampire story mentions the 12 step program, and as i just sent them a story about someone in AA that seems a bit excessive for one topic, though they were written years apart….
i will close with a photo selected at random from a hotmail folder i just found containing a bunch of old cell phone pictures – i clicked on a photo code and this was there. it was taken on 12/15/07, out the back window of our old apartment – there’s a vase of dried flowers (from our one year wedding anniversary), and a ton of snow on our back deck. i was 7 months pregnant….
and this photo, which would have been used today if i were continuing with that Author of the Day business: F. Scott Fitzgerald was next, here’s scott & zelda: