The End of Another Hemingway Weekend

As the third Annual Hemingway Weekend comes to its sad end, I swear that next year, I had best be wrapping this up from Key West. The next venture of writing is, however, well underway with the completion of 5 chapters and 2 more half finished. I will continue to work them today, providing my attention holds. It has been a refreshing weekend... or perhaps that is just the rum and vodka talking.

Still, I have much accomplished and it feels very, very good. I also have 8 more chapters outlined and in queue. And several peoples I have spoken with this weekend are looking forward to an email in the coming week with a chapter or two attached. It is highly likely--I do like a test audience. Fortunately for my prospective audience, my chapters are never very long, so reading 1-2 is not a huge commitment... remember, this is me, I don't ask for a commitment I myself wouldn't agree to! HA!!

Tomorrow means it is back to work, and I think the kitties will be happy. Bowie has been bitching all day for no apparent reason other than that I am here. Jake wanders around like a zombie, not having slept from needing to watch my every move. Vinnie celebrates birthday number 5 today by hiding in the closet, just like any other day. And Calvin is just Calvin--unaffected by the whole scene.

There is much left unnoted by me this weekend. A plane breaks in half, Kobe jumps a pool of snakes, the Lakers lose pathetically (so did the Pistons, BTW), the Libertarian party picks its candidate, but in light of the sheer genius that has come from me this weekend it pales. Like I said, next year, Key West--plan it.

Big Excitement

There was big excitement on the balconny this morning... and all before 11:30 a.m.

In addition to the terrible frenzy that was the sound of a baby bird in the nest built on the eave above the balcoy there was the shrill screeching of children that causes Jake to react much the same way as a kazoo does--and caused me to run inside to mix up the Sangria.

Second, there was a small gray and black kitty running down around the ground. Jake is still growling and hissing his defense of his domain 10 minutes later.

When Octopi Rule the Ice

My friend Lauren sent me this article, which I had seen the day previous, and quite frankly, the year previous to this... as it is a big controversy in Michigan when the Red Wings enter the Stanley Cup Finals.

Here is my somewhat edited response to her:

Well, first and foremost, you have to understand the great octopi over population in Michigan. We didn't have anything to do with them for years, and frankly, still don't. No doubt this ruling has caused countless gang related octopi incidents that remain unsolved in the Motor City today.

Second to that potential deadly situation, lies another brutal contingency while less noted, is certainly no less grave than the first. Fear of the octopi. Now, none of these manly men of the ice are willing to admit it, but there is irrational fear of the octopi that is on ice--it is WHY these men are not swimmers, Lauren, they stick to environments where the chance of gooey legged sea creatures seemed nil. Little did they realize some back woods yahoo with more money than any one not running for president should have would get sea creature crazy. Without question, this man wanted to be a pirate, but didn't have the stomach for it.

Beating each other senseless with sticks? Well, really, let's assess how much sense many of these players had to start with... I don't want to be judgemental (but we know I am), but it's the chicken or the egg question... raging streaks of violence controlled under the guise of sport--I bet these guys don't have an EAP.

And there you have it. :) An answer and the first bit of writing from Hemingway Weekend... not exactly bull fighting, but um, in Michigan, it isn't dudes fighting the bulls we have had to worry about ;)

Hemingway revisited

This weekend marks the Third Annual Hemingway Weekend. And I'm spelling it correctly, for SKs sake (don't want her going crazy on me for an extra 'm' or three...).

I'm excited, too. I am going into the weekend with two chapters written and 4 already speced out... the rum is in the freezer and there are three days in a row forecast with sunshine and not thinking about work.

I can think of very little I want more.

Fishing and Fun

Yesterday was my deep sea fishing adventure. It was great fun--even if I was feeling a little sea sick about half way through. We caught our limit early and headed back in early. Today, my hip and upper thigh are bruised and very sore from using it to anchor my rod while fighting the monsters of the sea. As is my crank hand... actually both hands are sore... when you battle a 70 pound fish for 20-30 minutes, something is bound to be sore.

Especially when you do it a few times. Nothing was funnier to me than the boat's mate telling me not to crank against the fish, let it run... I wanted to say dude, it is all I can do to hold the rod when the thing wants to run--I could barely hold the rod and crank at the same time anyway!

A weighty issue

I few weeks ago, I actually wondered how long before I saw a headline like the one of Reuters today:

Obesity Contributes to Global Warming

I'm not inclined to completely disagree, but I would question this particular study and its validity. I take exception, especially, with the notion presented that those with a lower BMI use less fuel because they walk more... I know PLENTY of people with a BMI under 25 (which is the widely accepted value for outer limit for healthy weight) who spend 20 minutes driving around a parking lot to park 2 spaces closer to the entrance... or those that are appalled by the notion that I would walk to the grocery store or post office rather than drive (it's a half mile).

A play, a fashion-state, and a chase

Last evening, I went to see a friend in a production of George Furth's "The Supporting Cast." The play is about a writer who pens a book using her friends as its characters... something I would know nothing about. It was a comedy of sorts and not one that I particularly cared for, but the cast did well and it was an enjoyable evening.

The day was preceded by some shopping at the Limerick Outlets and another quest for pants--completely in vain. At one point, at Ann Taylor, when the woman asked me if there was something she could help me with, I almost asked her where they hid the fat legged pants. Ann Taylor and Express used to be my fail safes, but no more as they, with everyone else, have followed the changing trend whereby if your thighs are the same size as your ankles, you can have your pick of pants, otherwise, for the rest of us, it will be the summer of skirts and dresses (and the swearing off of carbohydrates).

And, in between the two events, there was me, dressed for the theatre, crawling under the neighbors shrubs, trying desperately to keep my dress covering my ass while just as desperately, trying to recoup my hissing orange beast as a neighbor lady tries to carry on a conversation with me over how cute my kitty is and how she's seen him on her patio before. Meanwhile, the neighbor whose patio and shrubbery I was crawling about on stood in his window, holding his own hissing orange beast and laughing. It was quite a site and I swear, I was still finding shrub needles and pieces of cedar tree in my hair and dress when I got home last night.

Musings

It's a chilly Saturday morning in NW Philly and I still have tinges of pink streaked through my hair from last weekend--which now seems ages ago. I'm relieved to have this weekend, free of any real commitments. And, as such, I started it off last night with intermittent naps on the chair beginning at about 845 p.m. It was when I awoke at 4 a.m. to an infomercial and heard a woman asking about an energy drink being touted "Does it make him bigger?" that I decided I needed to go to bed and turn off the TV.

A pot of coffee now in me, it is time to think about the day ahead. I am going to a friends play this evening and may very well precede the evening affair with some outlet shopping. I desperately need clothes that are not winter attire and that can be worn to the office. As you may, or may not recall, last summer I worked from home when our office in Ann Arbor closed. As such, I worked mostly in shorts, tank tops, tee-shirts and never had to give a thought to office attire for the summer. That is not the case this time around, and as I cleaned much of the year prior clothing in the move... well, you can see where this would lead.

Of course, as chilly as it is, I cannot imagine wanting to shop today for summer clothes, but then again, the temp outside is close to the summer temp inside with the AC factored in, so perhaps it is optimal.

My Superpower...

...If sarcasm could only save the world; I'd be queen of everything (for real, instead of only in my head).

This weekend was the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Washington DC. Unlike previous involvement, I crewed instead of walking. It was not a great experience for me; but that was not the fault of the walk and I believe all the hundreds of other crew that it is usually a phenomenal experience. Quite simply, I had a crew leader who was unprepared and not experienced enough to lead a team. What I learned from the experience is that the logistics are exceptionally detailed, complex and time critical... it requires a certain kind of person in charge. I have a far greater appreciation for the "behind the scenes" than I did previously. It was phenomenal to witness, even in the situation I and my 8 other crew-mates experienced. It was also a testament to the crew members that we came together, organized as well as we could with what we had, and pulled something together. But it made for a long day, and for four members, a long night as well.

But, I'm home, finally showered and ready to start training seriously for the NYC walk in October. I'll be walking in the fall, I'll get to be at opening ceremonies, spend more time with my team, the fabulous Solo Strutters and walk the streets of one of my favorite cities.

For tonight, I'm looking forward to a great nights rest... where no one in the morning will look at me and with complete and utter amazement tell me that I not only talk in my sleep, I talk in complete and articulate sentences in my sleep. Was there ever any doubt?

Dancing around a maypole

So this week, much was learned...

--Jake can't deal with the sound of the kazoo. This was learned when Highway 61 Revisited popped up on the playlist. Kitty ran from room to room, window to window searching for the source--ears at high alert and eyes bugging out.

--Jake also learned a valuable lesson; if he runs out into the hallway while I have a full basket of laundry in my hands, the children playing in the courtyard may see him and descend upon him with the intention of expecting him to be a sweet kitty that will like strange children petting him. He was never so grateful to get inside the apartment.

--Signs on soda machines where the sodas are 35 cents a can and all selections but one appear sold out can prevent criminals with a mere sign that reads: "STOP THIEF Money Removed from this Machine Daily."

--Vinnie Kitty is not agreeable to Kitty Prozacs.

--Life with pink hair is not much different than life with blonde hair.