Thursday, June 25, 2009

That's how I shake... whatever...

Top Ten Good Things About How Hard Albuterol Makes Jo Shake

10. I don't need a battery powered toothbrush, because I shake so hard when I'm brushing my teeth, it's practically like having one!

9. I don't have to work that hard making cinnamon toast, because shaking the cinnamon/sugar mix on is a breeze! I don't even have to shake the bottle!!

8. I can do the shimmy without even trying!!

7. Need to draw squiggly lines? Jo's your gal!!

6. Vibrator. Don't need.

5. No need for a motorized tiller in the garden. Just give Jo a gardening fork, and and let her rip!!

4. Give her a cranky baby, and she'll jiggle that sucker to sleep in no time!

3. Don't need a sprinkler. Just hand Jo the water hose and let her go!!

2. One word. Maracas!!

... and the number one good thing about how hard Albuterol makes Jo shake?

"Watch her wiggle
See her jiggle
Bouncing ta-ta's
Jo's got the shakes again!!!" **

And just for an extra bonus laugh, I took the kids to Dairy Queen yesterday after my doctor's appointment to get us all some Artic Blasts, which are really just slushies. Anyhow, I went to the drive-thru, because no way did I feel like getting out of the car and walking in! So, I drove up to the intercom thingie, place my order, and wait for the gal to tell me how much it is. But she can't do that, no, she has to offer me something more, right?

This is where my hearing glitch kicks in. It's hard for me to understand the drive thru intercoms anyway, but most of the time, I figure it out. However, yesterday, my glitch decided to give me an extra entertaining session in the drive-thru.

"Would you like to knit me some argyle socks?"

Blink. Blink. "Er... what was that again?" I said, knowing there was no way in hell she even remotely could have said that!

"Would you like... to knit me... some argyle socks?" she says more slowly.

Blink. Blink. Okay, I KNOW she didn't actually say that. There is simply no way she could have said that. And really, I just... didn't want to ask her again, because I knew I'd hear the same thing again, so I decided to err on the side of caution and said, "Um... no."

"Okay, your total is $5.81, please drive up to the window to pay."

I turned to look at the Impertinent Daughter, who was riding shotgun, and said, "Could you understand what she was saying?"

"No, not really," she said, then grinned knowingly at me, recognizing the signs. "Okay, Mom, what did you hear?"

I told her and she burst out laughing, and we spent a good few minutes trying to decipher it with out any real success. Thus, by the time we drove up to the window, we were semi-hysterical. When the server came to the window, I managed to wheeze out, "What the heck were you asking me over the intercom after I placed my order?"

She blinked and said, "Um, I wasn't taking the orders, Ma'am. But... I can ask." She looked over at the blonde teenager wearing the headset dubiously, then said, "Might not do any good, though."

"That's okay, it's more fun for us to try to figure out anyway," I said, paying her and accepting our slushies.

"Why, what'd you think she said?"

I told her, and she nearly dropped my cup. I have a feeling Miss Ditzy Blonde is going to have a hard time living that one down.

When I told the Husbandly One about it later, he laughed, but as I thought about it, I realized she was probably asking something like, "Would you like to order any more with that?" or "Would you like some extra snacks?" But it doesn't quite fit.

Oh well, I may never know!! File that one away with the man in the grocery store that I could have sworn said, "Beat me, Daddy, I slobbed the knob." And no, he didn't really say that, because (1) he was saying it to his wife while holding his little daughter on his hip, and (2) I was reading his lips, and his mouth didn't match his words, but I was so stunned by what it sounded like, that I just... couldn't get past it!!

** For those of you who don't know, back in the 80's, Jello brand gelatin had a commercial jingle with the lyrics, "Watch it wiggle/See it jiggle/Cool and fruity/Jello Brand Gelatin..."

Friday, June 12, 2009

I write, therefore I ... AAAUUUGHH!!

Writing for the last four months has been... difficult. I don't know what it is, but every time I sit down to write... something happens.

It'll be difficult to start, it goes in fits and stops, and then finally, blissfully, I settle into the writing groove, I'll be going great guns and...

"Mom, Mom, wait, you have to hear this! So, I was in my choir class, and this guy came in... no wait, it wasn't a guy, it was... no... wait... forget it, I forgot. So... whatcha doin'? Is it okay if I hang here a while? I'm bored. Oh, and I'm hungry, too... can you make me some ramen? Or, no... wait... popcorn. Can you make popcorn, Mom? I'm not hungry so much as I just feel like nibbling... you know, popcorn. And hey, can we watch a movie? You haven't watched a movie with us in...."

Then she wonders why I'm banging my head against the desk.

So, I find another opportunity to write, sit down, have trouble starting, then hit the groove, the keyboard is practically smoking, it's going so well, I'm flying and completely lost in the story and...

"Hey, honey, we need to talk about whether we're going to send the kids to soccer camp. I've been looking at the budget and I think we can manage if we do this camp, as opposed to the Outrageously Expensive Soccer Camp of Doom. But we'll need to cut out this, that and the other from the budget, if you'll let me get on the computer so I can bring up the... honey... why are you grinding your teeth?"

Literally. It never ends. It's like a vast conspiracy to Keep Auntie Away from the Computer, and it's driving me completely insane. I have several writing assignments that I am supposed to be working on, and one of them is nearly completed if... I... can... just have a friggin' hour alone!!! And the other, I am barely halfway through.

I have to tell you, there are times when I get so frustrated, I want to throw up my hands and say, "Fine. I give up. No more writing. I get the damn hint, okay? Just forget the writing and give up on it because there's just no point. No point at all!!"

Then I remember why I write in the first place. Because it hurts not to. Because I can't stop. Because I have all these ideas, and pictures, and voices in my head, and they all need to come out, and the only way to do it is to write it all down.


*is very frustrated*

Right now, though, the temptation to throw in the towel and just give it all up is very, very strong.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Why am I doing this again??

Ever been working on something for months, writing, researching, struggling with it because, dammit, you just know you can make it work, but every attempt seems to just be... wrong. It's stiff, unnatural, refuses to flow no matter how you try to rewrite it, no matter how many different angles you try to approach it from, and your deadline is looming closer and closer, and you start getting desperate, because you don't want to ask for an extension, you know you can do this but... AARRRGGHHH!!!

Then life seems to throw all these obstacles and blocks your way, keeping you from working on it, until finally, it slams into you with all the force of a speeding train... you're writing about the wrong characters. It's not a story about this person... it's a story about those two people. And suddenly, everything flows the way it is supposed to, your fingers are flying across the keyboard, it's so easy to write now, whereas before, it was like trying to slog through mud uphill in a torrential downpour with a 150 pound pack on your back.

Serious, that drives me nuts. And it drives the people around me nuts, too.

I hate being a writer.

But then, sometimes, it just comes so easy, words seem to flow from my fingertips, and I can literally see the story before my eyes, like my own little movie and I'm just taking notes, really. The characters speak to me, leaning over my shoulder and whispering suggestions as I write, making me laugh at highly inappropriate moments when I suddenly realize why a certain thing needs to happen in the process of a story, or almost making me cry when I realize someone has to die and why. Sometimes, I feel like I am just a medium through which the story comes, the conduit that brings it to life on paper, because it can't stay in my head or it hurts, like they're drumming against the inside of my skull, trying to escape, and I can only relieve that pain by writing them out of me, and it feels so good, so good when it all works, when it comes together and it works and I know it works, there it is, see?

I love being a writer.

And this is why the Muggles think writers are crazy. And maybe we are. But who cares, as long as it makes a good story?