New Book Things

So, I was telling the Butcher about my new book, which is about a minister’s daughter who turns into a flock of birds. And I was explaining to him about how I want to end it–with the flock of birds pooping on a Methodist congregation. Now, I have mentioned that I’m considering ending the book this way to a number of people, some of whom have been offended and some of whom have found it funny.

The Butcher is the first minister’s kid I have mentioned it to and it barely registered for him as a big deal. OF COURSE the minister’s kid would poop all over the congregation if she got the chance. Duh. Where is the drama in that?

What he was more interested in is whether she could transform just a part of herself. Like say she at a baseball game, deep in the stands, when suddenly she had to poop. Could she make her hand turn into a bird, let that fly off and take care of business, and then come back? I had no good answer for him.

He asked how she became able to turn into birds and I said I didn’t know. There’s another woman in the story who can do it, but the story she was told about why it’s a skill she has is a lie. And the Butcher said that it seems to him that it should be that one day, a flock of birds decided to become a woman.

Whew, I like that. I don’t know how I’ll use it, but I’m stealing it.

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Grief is a Funny Thing

I was sweeping my bedroom when I found an enormous, I’m talking embarrassingly large, wad of cat hair under the bed. And I was sweeping it into the dust pan, getting ready to dump it into the garbage, when I realized–this is the last of Stella. The last of her I will ever touch.

And it made me so sad. I took it outside and let it blow away.

Bah, life and love and crap, you suck.

Parks

Things I Think When Walking Into Jersey Mike’s

So, when I’m walking into Jersey Mike’s in my Tiny Cat Pants t-shirt and my overalls, having not showered since some time yesterday and a man in his business clothes I don’t know says “I like your blog,” my very first thought is “Oh my god, I hope he can’t smell me,” and my second thought is, “I hope I’m not supposed to recognize that person, because I do not.”

Why I’m Not Worried About the Butcher Taking Over the World Any Time Soon

Last night he gave me a list of things that have to be done today:

1. Grocery shopping

2. House cleaning, including massive bathroom scrubbing

3. Garage cleaning

And so I dutifully rolled out of bed and got up and started my day at a normal time. Guess who is still in there snoring away? I guess maybe he isn’t planning on mopping or dusting? Otherwise, it seems like we would be getting started already.