If we were having coffee today, I’d sip sparkling water since I’ve already had my daily coffee.
I’d inquire how you’re doing, asking as few or many follow-up question as you seemed interested in fielding.
It might take me a little while to figure out what to say about my own week. After all, I already told you about my younger son’s growing ability to communicate with spoken words, my new job, and my brother’s impending graduation. What’s left to say?
I’d probably tell you about my surprising reaction to the movie Krampus. If you’d polled me right after I left the theater last night, I’d have described it as grim, but not necessarily scary. And yet, I’d say with the hint of a smile, I was filled with dread when I drove up to my house and saw all the lights were off. I walked up to the front porch ready to turn on inside lights as quickly as possible, but opened the door to the darkness, looked at the first lamp ten feet away and said, “Hell, no!” I quickly closed the door and began strolling around my neighborhood, returning home only when my husband told me he was moments away. Read more…
Victo Dolore’s recent post on sad times in school lunchrooms reminded me of my own like experiences. I was always one of the odd ones out. I remembered my mom’s like tales, too, and a post I’d written remembering those.
I think my mom–aka Thunder Thighs, my favorite superhero–would have loved its ending.
A Victory Most Malodorous
September 10, 2015
Tonight, my older son asked me to tell him “the story about the cat and the dog.”
“Which story?” I asked him. “This isn’t ringing a bell. Could you give me a little more detail to remind me?”
“The one where the dog brings the cat milk.” Read more…
If you’re like me, you can envision hundreds of horrifying outcomes to any situation. This includes mundane things like tying shoelaces, eating a sandwich, or blinking. There are potential disasters in everything! The possibility one of them might occur fills you with dread.
I have a trick for subduing my dread. It might work for you.
I used it today.
I had to meet my manager to discuss a schedule change I’d proposed. The amount I wanted the schedule change was very, very high, which meant my dread engine was running even harder than usual.
Instead of asking “What’s the worst that could happen?” I remembered to ask, “Of all the things that could happen, which are actually likely?”
In many situations, thinking in probabilities is much kinder–to yourself–than thinking in possibilities.
But, hey, it’s good to imagine the possibilities, too! I’ve smiled all day, imagining my manager breakdancing.
I met J through Buffy the Vampire Slayer forums.
Our online friendship became an offline one when she visited Los Angeles my second or third year of law school.
She stayed at my apartment. She didn’t complain when I abandoned her to work as a “goth” extra on Crossing Jordan. She kept herself busy in ways I’ve long since forgotten, and then took pictures of me when I returned. I’d booked another day working as a goth on Alias and was determined to leave in my snazzy ‘do.
Her pictures were beautiful. They captured a me who’d never before existed in the external world.
My husband and I owed our five-year-old’s teacher a Christmas version of “Let It Go.”
Today we worked through our first draft. Afterward, I sang it back to Anthony since he was driving.
We burst out laughing at the end result. I asked, “Five-year-olds won’t really care, right?” He answered by improvising increasingly more nonsensical variations of our song. My shoulders shook as I listened while slightly tweaking our first draft.
Once finished writing, I asked him to improvise one more version for the camera: Read more…