Go out to your car. If you don't have a car, borrow the neighbor's. They won't mind.
While still in park, put your foot on the gas pedal and rev. Get the engine just below that red stripe, what, at about 6-7 for some cars, 9-10 for others? Now everyone's coming out of their homes or standing at their front windows to find out why the hell there's an engine revving to the point of explosion -- I guarantee if you've borrowed your neighbor's car to do this, he/she will be watching. So, that SOUND and that FEELING? Shit's loud, hey? (Man, I sound Canadian now.)
That has been my brain for the last two weeks. Which is why I didn't do Friday Funnies last week. (I also didn't vacuum. Please don't invite yourself over for tea.) There was plenty of funny to be had on the Internet, although, in all honesty, I find myself clicking to my last entry with the newspaper-reading cat in the suit and the IKEA monkey (Darwin) in his wee lit'le coat ... oh man, I'm laughing again. ANYWAY, I do like to laugh, and I hope you do too, because there is just so much carnage and yuck going on that giggling is the only way I've managed to stay one step ahead of those guys with the straitjackets ...
On October 29, my split personality released a book (Must Love Otters) and it's going swimmingly with lots of darling reviews on Amazon and it's always interesting (terrifying) to see what folks have to say when you slice off a pound of your flesh and put it up for sale. I also spent the month of October holed up to finish yet another rewrite for the Neverending Book (Sleight, if you care) based on the comprehensive and always fantastic/painful edits from my brilliant editor (yes, I love you, editor mine, and I will be expecting my honorary MFA any day now from Dyer University). What that MEANS is, though, my brain -- it revved. There was one night here at the homestead that went like this:
Husband: How was your day?
Jenn: We should probably make some sauce to go along with ... I think I should kill off that one guy in Chapter Four but maybe ... Did I tell you I heard from one of the teachers today via ... The book order is late again ... Oh, we sold X books today but I'm trying not to ... One of the reviewers said she loved it and spit coffee out her ... I think I may have unwound a major plot knot in ... So I'm having a hard time finding the right socks for ... The cat was eating the headphone cords again but I ... Let me make the scrambled eggs for ...
Husband: [spatula in hand] I have no idea what you just said.
AND WHY IS THAT? Can't he hear the fourteen conversations going on in my head? Can't he hear the REVVING ENGINE?
Evidently not. So I was promptly sent to my room until I could formulate a single sentence from start to finish. I think I fell asleep and dreamed about newspaper-reading cats and IKEA monkeys.
Speaking of monkeys, I should really tell you about my adventures at Sephora. It went something like this:
- Jenn walks into Sephora, armed with two-month-old gift card from daughter.
- Jenn puts on face that says, Don't sell me no nonsense, little missy, the face usually reserved for car salesmen.
- Jenn sees her face in REAL mirror.
- Jenn holds back tears secondary to discovering the wrinkles dressing the area around her eyes. WHERE DID THOSE COME FROM?
- Jenn allows
carmakeup salesgirl to talk her into All the Shiny Things.
- Jenn walks out with a nice makeup job but is already concocting stories to tell Husband about the missing funds.
- Jenn wakes up the next day with the same determination she saves for cooking after putting out yet another fire in the kitchen--I CAN DO THIS--only to try to put the makeup on and FAIL. AGAIN.
- Jenn throws temper tantrum and takes to Facebook to complain about how she is not a real girl. Friends try to make her feel better.
- Jenn is still wrinkled and wears stripes on her eyelids that do not look like the smoky-eye demo picture.
- Jenn retires to her room with cookies.
Now, a singing cat:
|Nuit, singing to her babies.|
|The Witch King of Angmar. Husband gets CRAZY with Halloween. Sweet, huh?|
|This has been known to happen.|
|YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.|
|OMG, THIS. Seriously. Someone posted a corn chowder the other day and I had to hide them from my feed so I wouldn't barf on my keyboard. Unless you are Gordon Ramsey or that Nigella Lawson (she's hot), NO FOOD PICTURES. PLEASE.|
|I would use it exclusively.|
|Story of my life. My checking account is proof enough.|
|This happens when Husband calls to ask how my attempts at dinner are going.|
|You feel smarter now, don't you ... you're welcome.|
Next week, we will have lots to giggle about because I am trading a photography session for an elliptical. I shoot the photos; I get a new elliptical. Which means I have to exercise. For real. If you don't hear from me for a while, I may have pulled all the muscles. Send help.
Have a great weekend. Shout out to all the veterans who have fought for freedom and righteousness, including this hunk of love, my oldest boy. Love you, brat.
|Now call your mother. She worries.|