This morning I bubbled up out of my tumultuous (as always) dream state, threw on a jacket, and scurried out to the car to see if we could be friends again. The resounding answer is no. No, no, no. Naturally I called my dad (Best Dad Ever) for his advice (my own instinct was to have it towed to a dealership) and he made a quick phone call and located a place in Horn Lake,…
So, I’d like to write something that’s not rife with grief or anger. What better way to inject some randomness into your little corner of cyber-tube than with a pointless meme? Stolen shamelessly from Punkassblog, which stole it from Faux Real Tho. I present to you the End of the Year Meme, where you post the first sentence from the first post of each month throughout the past year: January: The guest blogging is over.February:…
Car, It’s not cute anymore. It never was, really, but it made for somewhat interesting conversation. “Yeah, it won’t start sometimes. You have to wait ten minutes while the security light blinks and then try again when it goes off. And then if it doesn’t start, wait ten more minutes. Repeat until the fucker gets going.” Somewhat interesting. Sort of like saying, “Yeah, in February the gas tank gets infested with ladybugs,” or, “When I…
You people are fabulous. Thanks to all of you who left comments and encouragement about Gonzo’s passing. I think it’s amazing that people I’ve met (or not, in many cases) over the internets can be tons more supportive than people in real life (as evidenced by my previous post). Another testament to the power of the internet to bind people and create communities.
File this away in your etiquette folder, folks: If you happen to come upon a conversation in progress about someone having to very reluctantly and very sadly put her ferret to sleep over the weekend, do not take it as an opportunity to crinkle up your nose and say, “Aw, that’s sad, but I hate ferrets! They’re gross and they smell bad. Ew, weasels! *shudder* My son had ferrets and they smelled like pee all…
Click to read. I found this index card on my preferred elliptical machine at the gym today, and I read it, thinking it sounded like some overwrought poetry by a heartbroken post-teen. Then I decided to take it with me and maybe send it in to Found, because they do love randomly abandoned index-card poetry (as do I). But I did some sleuthy Googling and realized that it’s not really a poem; it’s lyrics from…
Gonzo came into my life five and a half years ago, hidden in Phil’s coat. We had been to the pet store and had gushed over the ferrets there, contemplating finding a companion for Felix, who we’d had for a couple of weeks. One of those little fuzzies at the store — so pretty with a white head and a beautiful darker pattern on his mid-section and most of his tail — had particularly got…
And I know you’re out there. • How do you decide what POV to use? First-person is so hip and visceral, but third person gives you all sorts of possibilities with that nifty omniscience thing… • How do you pick a tense and then stick with it? Why is it that I am constantly morphing into present continuous? • How can I make dialogue seem less manufactured and more fluid? • How can I convey…
Gonzo’s not eating. We haven’t seen him take a bite of real food in days. He’s losing weight, and fast. His ribs and spine are quite visible. Where he once had a big, round belly, there is now barely anything. It makes me angry to think about what’s going on inside there. We’ve bought him soft ferret food and duck soup, but the only thing he seems to be interested in are the little Bandit…
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