August 6, 2012

Getting Ready for the Loony Bin

For my friends outside of the U.S. the loony bin is the insane asylum and that's where I'm going. Today, my daughter is on vacation with my sister so I thought I would take the time (which I haven't done in a long time) to work on my story, Finding Hope. I went upstairs to my office where I haven't been in a week and surprise, I have elder bugs all over. They are everywhere outside in August, usually in massive quantity. Apparently, they get in through the windows and lucky me, half of them were on top of each other mating. Great.

First, I freaked out, then I grabbed Kleenex after Kleenex, and started killing all 20 some of them. I went to wash my hands, came back and there were two more. Got them. Went to wash my hands and there were four more. Went to wash my hands and there were . . .yes, you guessed it more and more and more.

This happened about 10 times before I did what any woman would do, I called my husband, screaming. "You have to do something! There are about twenty of them all over and I killed them and now there are more and they keep on coming and ah, there's one on my book. Take that you MF. And they're breeding. And they won't stop coming!"  It was like an invasion movie on television and I was the blonde bimbo screaming "help, help" when the monster was a little bug.

And of course he said, "What do you want me to do? I'm at work."

So I did the next best thing. I called my parents and my dad's reply was, "What do you want me to do? I'm in Indiana."

Now I am in my office, trying to write and every ten seconds I glance around for bugs. Meanwhile, my baby, who is in the bouncy chair next to me, has learned it is fun to throw things on the floor and have mommy pick them up. It has now become a ritual, he throws it down, I pick it up, he throws it down, I pick it up. So in between looking up for bugs and picking up a constantly dropped toy, I try to write. Ready for the insane asylum? Yes, I think I am.

Where's that stupid tissue, there's another bug. Freakin' A.

August 5, 2012

A Man's Birthday, What to Do

This week is my husband's birthday. Since we are trying to save money, I asked him what he would like to do. Wrong question. I have now promised to watch 5 seasons of Babylon 5 (described by Wikipedia as "an American space opera") complete with an Earth Alliance and spacefaring races.

Now, I like Star Trek in doses. Let me tell you, Connor Trinneer "Trip" in Star Trek: Enterprise wasn't too bad to look at, but Babylon 5 is like a B version with weird looking characters. One creature is bald with green spots and another looks like Napoleon's long lost father.

And maybe his crazy long lost brother as well . . .

Last year for his birthday, I decided to make gourmet food. I cooked lemon risotto, chicken with morels and panna cotta with balsamic strawberries. I know, sounds like a lot of fluffy upscale food. But it was pretty awesome. Except when he called an hour beforehand, when I had been cooking for three hours, to tell me his car broke down on the highway. I had to turn off the stove, take things out of the oven and stuff everything into the refrigerator. I then headed out to the highway (an hour away) to search for his car at an abandoned gas station. We ate at 11 P.M. but the food was awesome. I was quite proud of myself. Rachael Ray, take that.

When my husband and I first dated, I decided I would impress him for his birthday. (Before you get married, you always do it this way you know. After, anything goes.) I bought him a nice outfit and for extra brownie points, I bought his cat this expensive canned food. (What a joke. The cat turned his nose up at it.) Anyway, what did I get for my birthday that year? Nothing. I believe it's a guy thing. They just don't get it. Birthdays are important to women. You have to hit them over the head with hints before they realize, We Want Something Special (Done or Bought) For Our Birthday.

So we'll see how this Babylon 5 marathon goes. I'll be able to hold out for three shows, this is my bet. Once we hit more than that, I'll probably be snoozing on the couch. Unfortunately, I dream about what I watch at night so I'm sure I will have "an American space opera" going on in my head.
Lucky me.