The Spiral Grove

The place for creative updates!

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Brutal Truth

First off, did I call Jackson a wide eyed boy in that last post? In some cultures he would be a man! He's certainly got some years on the boy in the Old Man and the Sea (Hemmingway).

Anywhoo, today I am going to be brutally honest about two things. Being insane and being, well, fat. Which is hard to talk about even if it is true and getting better.

First off insanity. People generally consider me a bit off when they see me on the street. A throwback from the Victorian era who only has the hat part right, and is otherwise securely in the 21st century for better or worse. But this morning, after singing a near aria (in the shower) about soap in my butt crack and the pure joy of knowing that soap kills fleas, (which we currently are suffering an infestation of, read I AM LUNCH for these uncrushable bloodsuckers) I sat down at my beloved (and I mean that in the truest sense of the word)PC and realized I am utterly mad.

Last year at the Arkansas Writer's Conference Bruce Holland Rogers, keynote speaker, said "If you read only one Literary Magazine, make it The Sun".

I had never heard of the Sun, but being enamored with Bruce Holland Rogers (who has a beard, and let's face it, I am a sucker for facial hair on a man) and all, I ran right out and bought the Sun. I meant to subscribe, but keep forgetting, which doesn't really matter because the manager at the closest hastings to my house stocks it regularly, and I have bought it faithfully, which is better for the Sun, they make more money this way right? I mean it costs me twice as much, plus gas! Am I good American or what?

Anyhow, true to Mr. Holland-Rogers (had to use both names to distinguish him from that other Mister Rogers with whom I am enamored so much that if I could ressurrect the dead, I would promptly seek a divorce and remarry him {Mr. Fred Rogers}. Only he wouldn't marry me, cuz he was a good man, and would never marry a floozy who would do such a thing).

But I digress, I LOVE THE SUN. And as a result of his regular collumn in The Sun, I love Sy Safransky, whom I have never seen but feel like I truly know him. After all I have cried with him in the hospital room when his daughter was in the car crash, and riden many a Tsunami Wave with him as he struggles to make sense of our world. I show this love by buying his magazine and also by periodically sending him some or other thing I have written that I believe to be my best, in hopes that one day I can share some copy space with this humble man.

Since the submission/rejection cycle takes so long, and since I provide on every submission my uber professional e-mail address, and since that is NOT the address I use every day, I discovered this morning that I have developed a new habit. Well, I've probably been doing about a year now, but it has taken me until the morning to realize it.

Every time I sign on to read my many e-mails, I habitually, religiously, click the "switch screen name" button on my toolbar thinking "Today is the Day! Sy Safransky has arisen early (or stayed up late depending on the hour) and he has written me to tell me of my genius and how he loved my story (or essay or whatever he hasn't rejected yet).

I click, I see that big fat ZERO in the number of e-mail's collumn and then I think, "Well, he probably hasn't finished his cofee yet, or he's still in bed with his wife, or maybe he has gone to Sumatra to help sunami victims and my story is sitting on his desk unopened".

This happens every day, several times a day. Sometimes I even say it out loud.

And now I am admitting it to the world, or at least to everybody who is subscribed to my blog. Of course in writing this I panic and think, "Oh God, did I include a link to my blog on my submission? Will Sy (we are on a first name basis in my world) read it and think I am trying to guilt him? What if he Googles his own name and my silly blog shows up?"

Once the panic attack passes I think to myself, "OK Hat Woman, he is raw on the page. He admitted he was an asshole who cheated on his wife once right? So, he is an intelligent man, he will understand that I am simply being honest, naked on the page...and he will surely surmise that as much as I want that.."You are brilliant, of course we want your story (or essay) e-mail, he knows I only want it if he means it. Doesn't he?

And speaking of naked on the page, before I close I MUST tell you ladies (and good gentlemen)who read this faithfully, I have lost a few more pounds. I am at my lowest weight in almost ten years and get this...you know those fanny firming panties famous with grannies the world over? The ones rendered infamouse by the movie Bridget Jones Diary?

Well, I was wearing the smallest pair of white pants I have been able to squeeze into the other Wednesday (thanks for asking about the hat Ernie!) and of course I put on those fanny firming granny panties. Who wouldn't in white pants? Well I put em on, THEY FELL BACK OFF AGAIN!!!!

I went running out of the bedroom in my robe and hugged by almost 16 year old son and said "You won't believe this! But my fanny firming granny panties ARE TOO BIG! They fall right off."

His reply, "Gee mom, that's good I guess, can you please let me go now." all with a quizzical expression.

OK, thats me this fine Thursday. Off to buy a new tire and rim, even two flat tires in one day (more on this later) cannot darken my mood (no dear, I definitely NOT depressive today). James is tapping his foot at me. Time to go. Ta ta and love to EVERYBODY okay?

3 Comments:

  • At 5:36 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I caught this link from your PA message. I love your blog it's great.
    elliott

     
  • At 12:49 PM, Blogger Linda J. Hutchinson said…

    If I didn't already know you were insane, I'd surely believe it after reading this post!

    Before long you'll have to get a new picture for your website! But, please, not while you're wearing granny panties. Oh, dear, what will they say...

    It's those voices again, Ronii...

     
  • At 10:22 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    sorry...

     

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