another episode in stream-of-c

Dear Blog,

I had the feeling I've been neglecting you, so I decided to come post something on you. Kind of like writing on a Post-It Note and sticking it to someone's back without their knowledge. But then I checked, and I saw that I actually posted a few things recently. So I guess the neglecting was all in my imagination. Do carry on with whatever blogginess you were engaged in before I so rudely interrupted.

Sincerely,
C.

In other news, apparently I've had fund-raising on the brain of late. Last week, I participated in the Wishing Well Walk. Amy and I walked 2.5 miles, carrying 2 gallons of dirty water apiece, helping raise awareness of the well shortage in Africa. Lest you be overly impressed with our feat, there were many, many people who carried more water than we did. They rocked the Walk, so to speak.
Then, this evening, I drove up to Edmond to attend Heartbeat for Hope's fundraiser at Adora. It was fun, I bought two cute shirts (15% of the proceeds from Adora's sales tonight will go toward Heartbeat for Hope), and I got to hear a really good band named Countdown for Reno, if I recall correctly.

So, yay for helping people. ;o)

Furthermore, I'd just like to state for the record that it's not my fault my cat has a flabby tummy. We throw away about half the food we give her because she won't eat. And we're already giving her half the recommended amount. So I don't know why her tummy sags, unless it's from getting spayed and no longer having taut tummy muscles. But she has a lot of fur--how'm I s'posed to figure out what happened to her six-pack?!

Also, I think there has got to be a more efficient way of picking jurors for trials. A friend of mine got called in for jury duty and is looking at Day 3 of sitting in a courtroom, waiting to get called in for an interview. They might pick him for the jury, or they might not. Nobody knows. So far, two days of sitting, maybe reading, maybe texting, but mostly just sitting. Why can't they just give people appointments so that not all 160 potential jurors have to come in at the same time and sit? Somehow, I doubt it's stimulating the economy very much to have all these people missing work.

In addition, whoever made the decision to cancel "Firefly" is an annoying person.

Not only that, but I've finally started getting my pomegranate obsession out into the open. Oh yes. There has been a quiet pomegranate obsession of late. A quiet, mental, internalized pomegranate obsession. I don't know why. I only know that I've finally drawn a picture of one, and I like it, and I'm going to add pomegranates to the painting that's been in-progress since January. Themes of Hades and Persephone have been drifting in and out of my awareness. It's all very ethereal and amusing. Now that I've started drawing/painting pomegranates, though, it's about to get concrete and amusing. Bam.

And I wrote two poems during the past week. One for slightly-public consumption (meaning I've shared it with a few people), and one not (meaning nobody gets to see it--yet).

Finally, lest I forget--no, no, no, not Gethsemane, whaddaya think this is, a hymn? ;o) --I've also been working on Deren's Story. And I've decided that Deren's Story is definitely for the boys. Except Deren keeps insisting on having all these romantic thoughts about the girl. I know that romantic thoughts and "for the boys" aren't mutually exclusive--but the oy-vey-potential is there, and I've got my work cut out for me in not turning my poor hero into a feminine shadow of his former self. ;oD Just kidding. Deren and I are not that bad off, I'm just acknowledging some potential here. Maybe blogging about it will help my subconscious mind stay where it's supposed to be. Namely on Heinlein-esque perkiness. And that's all I'm gonna say 'bout that, 'cause that's just how I roll.

;oD

Please forgive the crudity of this blopgost. I didn't have the mental energy to write it to scale.

german swings my verge

For many reasons.

One of the main ones being compound words. Which, really, one may make up arbitrarily, contrary to the opinions of traditional grammar purists.

I'm talking about compound words like this:

Aktenkofferverschlussknopfwerkzeugkastenträgermantelkragenhersetellerlieferantenfahrzeugfarbenaussucherin.

= female chooser of color of deliverer's vehicle for producer of collar of coat belonging to carrier of toolbox for briefcase lock button tools.

CRAMAZING.

I heart languages. I really do.

on my way to bed, i read something that irks me

I haven't looked into this any further, but the headline caught my eye.

"Brazilian researchers: Tick saliva may contain cure for cancer."

Of course. It would.

Gah.

Yes, I'll be thrilled if it's true.

But have I mentioned how much I LOATHE ticks?

*sigh*

because i feel like i should

Dear Readers,

I haven't forgotten you. I promise. I don't know why I haven't felt very bloggy of late. Well, that's a lie. I do know. There are several reasons. One, I've been working on Deren's Story, which has passed the 15k mark, gasp and egad. Two, I've just been really, really busy. With many a good thing. But all of this has left me with little brain power for blogging.

Not that blogging requires anything like 1.21 gigawatts of brain power or anything. I'm just sayin'.

Maybe you want to know some of the things I've been busy with.

And maybe you don't.

But guess what.

I'm going to tell you.

I don't know why I seem to have fallen in love with shorter sentences today.

There. That one wasn't short. But this one is.

But I digress.

So here's a run-down:

I've been out to my parents' new place to help out with whatever needed helping out. Last Saturday, that included mopping all but two rooms of this humongous new abode and wiping down all the shelves that go in the kitchen cabinets and built-in book cases. Someday, when I have time [ ;o) ], I'll set up a Facebook photo album of their house from start to present. Present includes tiled floors; paint on the walls, ceilings, doors, and baseboards; aforementioned cabinetry and shelving in place; cemented porch and driveway; and a lot of little details I can't remember right now. The front door is supposed to be being delivered (yes, I did that on purpose) TODAY. There will be much rejoicing.

What else? I've been down to Lawton to see my aunt who was in from Utah, as well as to honor my grandparents, who celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary this past Monday. I am in awe of them.

As I said before, I've been working on Deren's Story. But not this week, because I've been otherwise occupied. I don't know yet if I can say Deren's Story is going well or not. I've certainly had moments where The Words Have Suddenly Been There, which are the moments we writers live for. (You know who you are, and you know what I'm talking about.) But still, I'm feeling a little bit stuck, and I know it's because my main character is male, and he's surrounded by a group of men and only one woman. I'm going to have to get the writers group to give me some fairly detailed, possibly embarrassing info on dynamics within groups of guys, especially as to how a single female presence affects that dynamic. The whole Story so far is requiring me to go to a place I don't often delve into, because most of the characters so far are blatantly immoral people. So I'm hoping that talking things out with my fellow writers will give me some insights and get me where I need to be.

Speaking of fellow writers, I've now had the honor and joy of reading and giving feedback on the first two novels in Aaron's Ghost Targets series. I'll write more on this later, when I do my next book comments--but for now, suffice it to say that I thoroughly enjoyed both novels; I am thrilled (for multiple reasons) to be friends with such a talented fellow word-smith (who also gives incredible feedback); and the movies are going to be awesome.

One more thing I am particularly pleased about, and then you, Gentle Readers, can get back to your lives. ;o) This week, my friend Bryan is in from Pittsburgh, visiting various and sundry folk. What's way cool about this is that I got to see him for the first time on Monday. The first time in over 20 years. How amazingspiffalicious is that?!? We were kids together in the Frankfurt church, back when the American congregation still existed. Neither of us can remember when he and his family left--such is military life--but I'm thinking it was 1986 or '87. Anyway, I found Bryan on Facebook last year (through the Gambill boys, much to our collective amusement), and now we've met again for real this week.

Ed and I got together with Bryan at Ted's on Monday, and though it wasn't really awkward, the first few moments were definitely a bit surreal. I could see him now, but I could also see him as a kid, as I remembered him, so it was weird trying to make those two pictures match up in my head. The only thing I could say was, "You're a lot taller than I remember," which was so obvious, it just sounded silly. ;o) We've played catch-up all week and keep discovering all these random things we have in common--such as a favorite pickle brand and the color red. Ed and I are going out with him for German food tonight (Royal Bavaria. OH YEAH.), and I probably don't have to spell out for you how all sorts of excited I am about this. It definitely swings my verge (click tag below for explanation). Sha-boom. ;oD

And that's all the run-down you get. ;o)

this one's for all you book-lovers out there...

Hi friends. Read this: literary agent Nathan Bransford on Kindle, Orwell, and Amazon's Trying To Take Over The World.

For my writer friends: Nathan Bransford is a Most Extraordinary Blogger Who Will Teach You All You Need To Know About Agents, Query Letters, The Publishing Industry, And Why You Should Hate The Lakers.

Also, I got to meet him in April, and he's nice.


Also, I still need to trim my fingernails.

mafias gnawn thru...

...or: fun with anagrams.

Today, I wrote a poem for which I required anagrams, so I spent several hours playing around with this online anagram generator. From said generator, I derived a grey jot--I mean, great joy. I thought you all might receive a similar jaunty of moo amount of joy, so here are a few of the anagrams I came across today. Feel free to interpret at will!

thyroidal woof
holy woo, adrift
wily foot hoard
Hen with eatables!
I linger on mops, yet.
some wise fatheads
fatheads meowing
antisera de-fog
magenta shrews
tame hogness
tea theism (I think I am becoming a believer.)
A seventh moo howled!
I linger on my pesto.
Seesaw thongs mow. (Oh dear.)

Thus ends the fungi wash mantra. Tune in next week for another rousing round of A Ham Fig Nun Warts!

Sincerely Yours,

None Any Cuter ;o)

roll call

If you read this, leave a comment. I wanna know you're there.

I'm going to go paint my toenails now.

a few items of randomness

I have really been enjoying getting books from the library.

Also, I like to read them.

I think this is positively lovely. It's nice to know that there's a guy out there who just wants to make a girl's day go better. To that anonymous gentleman: You know a lot about women. Don't forget. :o)

Yesterday, I got to witness the power of prayer working in the life of a 6-year-old girl suffering from cherubism. A scheduled 6-hour surgery that only took an hour-and-a-half, and she got to go home today. God is good.

Our TV is broken, and we haven't gotten to watch this week's episode of Lost yet. I am in mourning.

I plan to factor the purchase of the "Twilight" DVD into our budget for April, and I plan to purchase said DVD on April 1st--no fooling.

Today, I heard two fish stories--one big, one little--and they both made me laugh.

Today, I remembered that Jim Carrey is the reason I didn't like "Batman Forever." I have enjoyed Carrey's performances in (a couple of) other films, but his "Riddler" in BF is just tasteless.

Christian Bale is my favorite Batman, hands down.

I miss seeing Chris O'Donnell in movies.

I really don't care what any radio dj looks like without his glasses.

It was a blast to spend the afternoon of Janine's birthday with her. I miss my Saxony friends.

I would like to live somewhere with a yearlong temperature between 68 and 80 degrees Fahrenheit.

If either my brain or my consciousness were somehow transplanted/transferred into a man's body, I don't think I'd be able to walk.

Hey, Germans: Do any of you remember "Knuffelbunte"? I had a pink one when I was a kid.

I started a painting in January, and I haven't finished it.

People have been asking me lately if I have lost weight, and I have answered "yes," and I have liked it.

I'm going to stop writing this and go to bed now.

other people's shopping lists

Is it weird for my first blopgost of the year to be a sample of other people's writing? Hmmm.....maybe not weird. For my standards. But hopefully not telling, either. ;o)

Anyway....

In the space of about three weeks, in the course of my own shopping adventures (which are often fraught with danger, adventure, and frustration), I found several grocery lists belonging to fellow shoppers. Said lists lay forgotten in the bottom of shopping carts or, gasp and egad, on the floor. I picked them up, tucked them away, and re-discovered them last week whilst cleaning and re-organizing my desk.

I don't know why--maybe it's the voyeur in me--but I am amused to see what these unknown folks had on their lists. And, so that you can be as weirdly amused as I am, I am going to share these lists with you. Now.

The Lined-Yellow-Paper List
Toothpicks
miLK
Bananas for UBall
**Spraystarch

I'll not venture to analyze the random capitalizations of letters, nor why spraystarch might have been so important as to merit two stars. I will, however, note that "toothpicks" looks a lot more like "toonpicks," which makes me giggle.

UBall. University Ball? Underground Ball? Undiscovered Ball? Unctuous Ball? Ubiquitous Ball? Unabashed Ball? It is a mystery....but not a Mystery Ball, silly, or it would've been noted as "MBall." Duh.

;o)


The I-Love-My-Home List
barnuits -
muffins
flour -

shredded wheat -
oatmeal

milk
heavy cream



- toothpaste -
Hiland cottage cheese 24 oz 2.00


1 can solid pack pumpkin

fruit

The author of the I-Love-My-Home list was apparently rather unconcerned with saving space. A wasteful individual? Or one simply trusting in the abundant supply of notepad paper with "I Love My Home" emblazoned across the bottom of the sheet? We shall never know.

Oh, and whatever "barnuits" might have been, I guess the shopper decided they (a) weren't to be found, (b) weren't necessary after all, (c) were the only thing to be found, or (d) didn't exist, because they are crossed out.


The Upside-Down-Apples List
tortilas [sic]
mayo
p bitter
chicken breast
cottage cheese
strawberries
peppers gr. + red
cereal
syrup
tartar sauce

At the top of this list is a row of sliced apples, and they are upside down. There is an arrow pointing from "chicken" to "tortilas" [sic], leading me to believe that something Mexican might have been on the menu for supper that night. Also, I am sure that "p bitter" is actually "p butter" = peanut butter, but that sure isn't what it looks like.

And thus ends my first blopgost of 2009. I suspect it might be bloppier than usual. Tah-dah. ;o)

*sigh*

What's funny is when you make coffee, and the whole pot of water has run through, and it's only then that you realize you didn't actually put any coffee in.

La la la....

pamcake puns--not for the faint of heart

Conversation during last weekend's Infamous Saturday Pamcake Breakfast at Sullivans', The Oklahoma Files:

Courtney: The older I get, the sicker I get anytime I go on amusement park rides. I used to love them, but now I can't handle them anymore.
Jennifer: That's because your vestibular system changes as you get older.
Courtney: My what?
Jennifer: Your vestibular system.
Courtney: I have a vestibular system?
Joel: Do you feel self-conscious now?
Courtney: Yeah, I do...I don't know if I want people looking at my vestibule.
Jennifer: Not vestibule, vestibular.
Pam: Is that Ferris's brother?

;oD

hamster huey and the gooey kablooey

(Name that reference!)

I have a zit under the chicken pox scar on my chin.

I find this to be mildly ridiculous.

in honor of and reference to memory

Why is it so difficult to say what we really mean?

Why, when we try to communicate something important to us, do we so often send a message we didn't want to send, and end up hurting the other person without wanting to?

What must we do in order to learn to ask the right questions?

What must we do in order to learn how to listen for the answers?

Honestly: Is it so difficult to stop talking, open the heart, and let the soul truly comprehend what the other person is saying?

Why is what we want to say usually so much more important to us than that which the other person needs to say?

Why do we block others from unburdening their souls?

Why do we espouse total honesty, yet we cannot accept it when others are totally honest with us?

Are our relationships truly that fragile?

Are our relationships truly that shallow?

How can we have been so misled?

Why didn't anyone tell us?

Why can't we admit that the fault is our own for not having sought and delved more deeply?

Why do we lack courage?

Where is the safe haven?

Why do we paint love a color only we can see?

more nickelback randomness

So it happened again. I heard a song I liked, Googled it, and found out it was Nickelback again. This is seriously starting to weird me out.

Anyway, this time, it was "Rockstar." The picture the lyrics paint of the celebrity life is painfully vivid and accurate. In spite of the two vulgarities, I still appreciate the song for its truth.

And the sarcasm just really swings my verge.

ima hogg

Today's featured article on Wikipedia is about a woman named Ima Hogg. I find this highly amusing, because I've heard anecdotes about her for, like, ever, but I never believed she really existed.

So now, having perused the article, I sit amusedly corrected.

Enjoy!

you may quote me on this

Occasional incoherence builds character!

While you're at it, don't get stuck in the metaphysical toe cheese.

That really swings my verge.


(And on a side note, here's what the online translator does with those sentences...

...in German:
Die zufällige Zusammenhangslosigkeit baut den Charakter! Während Sie - darin, sie sich in metaphysischem Käse der Zehe nicht verstopfen. Das schwingt meinen Rand wirklich.

...in English:
The accidental unconnectedness builds the character! While you do not block yourselves in metaphysical cheese of the toe - in it, they. This swings my edge really.

*Love* it.)

they might be germans

Today, I've had "Particle Man" stuck in my head for some reason, and as I was unloading the dishwasher, I randomly started singing it to myself in German. So here's a snippet of translation for your enjoyment:

Partikelmann, Partikelmann,
er tut was ein Partikel kann.
Ob er lebt ist unwichtig,
Partikelmann.

Isser 'n Punkt?
Oder isser 'n Fleck?
Wird er unter dem Wasser nass?
Oder durchnässt er das Wasser selbst?
Keiner weiss,
Partikelmann.

Ta-dah.

P.S. For my German friends: "Particle Man" is a song by a group called They Might Be Giants. And all this has led to singing the politically rather incorrect "Drie Chieniesien miet diem Kientriebiess" in my head. I don't know why.

a few items of randomness

The title says it. No further introduction.

--Tonight, Ed and I dropped by Buy-For-Less (not Best Buy! I'm getting it right this time!) after our dinner date. We strayed into the international foods aisle and pored over some of the items. This time, I didn't cry! And we bought Spätzle (Swabian egg noodles)!

--This week, I spent two days babysitting the Antwines' great-grandson, Ethan, since Clyde had surgery on Tuesday and Queenie couldn't take care of husband and toddler at the same time. (Imagine that!) Let me preface my following remarks with this: Ethan is adorable; an incurable flirt; and the best-behaved one-year-old I have ever met. The second day, he didn't feel well, and even then, he was still easier to take care of than nine out of ten other kids. He and I had great fun together, and when he came to me and wanted to be cuddled....well, to say my insides melted would be an understatement.

However, I also must say that I'm thankful that babies come in much smaller, less mobile packages at first. Going from no-kid straight to take-care-of-toddler absolutely wore me out. I can't remember when I was last as tired as I was at the end of those two days. And the fact that he needed my near-constant attention...well, I'll put it this way: I wouldn't be able to be a writer and take care of a baby at the same time. It just wouldn't happen.

So, for now, I am perfectly content to be the writer. Nothing against anybody or anybody's babies. It's not you, it's not them, it's me. So many of my friends and family have had babies over the last few weeks, this subject has been on my mind quite bit. My conclusion is that I am wholly selfish in this: I'm not willing to give up my time and energy for a child right now. That being the case, I have no business having one, and I currently have no problem with being selfish in this way. Yes, I would like to have a baby at some point...but not now.

Just in case anybody was wondering. ;o) Maybe this will forestall any comments such as, "Courtney, you need to have a baby." I haven't heard a lot of those since the miscarriage (thankfully, people do have a sense of tact!), but the number of such comments has been increasing of late. It hasn't gotten to the point of severe irritation yet...but I have found myself replying mentally with fairly snarky remarks that I'm not going to repeat here.

I didn't want this to turn into a baby-thoughts post, so that's all I'm gonna say about that for now.

--By the way, I whacked my head on the corner of the bathroom cabinet almost two weeks ago. The huge knot has disappeared, but it still hurts a little. I don't think I've ever hit my head that hard before. I actually saw spots, went to my knees, and thought I might pass out on the edge of the tub and probably hit my head a second time. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and I didn't even throw up (in which case I would definitely have passed out), but still.... God knew what he was doing when he designed that skull, lemme tell ya.

--Our email didn't work properly for a month, and I am still catching up on the piled-up inbox. There were over 250 emails to sort! I narrowed the must-answer ones down to about 70, and I'm slowly working my way through them. I'm down to 23. Of course, that's not counting the ones that have come in since I started sorting.

Verily, verily, I say unto thee, I am seriously tempted to boycott email and tell everyone that if they want me to write them, they'd better send something through snail mail, 'cause I ain't doin' this no more. I am tempted, mind you. I'm still resisting.

(Resistance is futile; I will be assimilated? Hmmm....)

Okay, enough with the random. Ich gehe jetzt ins Bett, und damit basta!

(English-only speakers, make of that last what you will, but I truly didn't say anything indelicate!) ;oD

griping about pop culture again

Today I decided that TV fads are the entertainment equivalent of a date-drug-rapist who keeps feeding you more booze after he sees that you liked the first drink.

This is only partly tongue-in-cheek. :op

my secret recalcitrant side

I just read this phrase online somewhere, and I've decided that this is a good description of an aspect of my personality: a secret recalcitrant side. Of course, some might claim that it's not so secret; that they see this side of me quite frequently. And to those most learnéd souls, I must reply: You are absolutely right.

However, I also think that that to which you are referring is my occasionally self-revealing streak of obnoxious obstinacy.

My true, secret recalcitrant side? I don't think you've seen that yet. At least, most of you probably haven't.

There's really no other point to this post other than to say that I like that phrase and that I think it applies to me. I guess I could go into detail on just how my secret recalcitrant side manifests itself, but then it would no longer be secret, now would it? And then there really would be no point to this post.