Hola! Odds and Ends

Hello Blogtropolis! It has been over a week since my last post and I miss you!  Just some quick odds and ends tonight to keep in touch.

Here’s a Top Ten of what’s on my mind:

1. Work. Work = Blah, Blech, Yuck, Yada Yada. Work really does interfere with life, doesn’t it? Enough said.

2. Writing. Angela and I are busy meeting a deadline for submitting a screenplay to a film festival (sounds fancy, I know). Edits, rewrites, etc. need to be completed by Friday. She has done a lot of work on the project and now I’m up to the plate, hoping not to strike out! I’m also super jealous that she’s enjoying Cali for a few days and I am stuck at work (see # 1, above) in Trenton. We compared our outdoor views today via text pics and I’ll let you guess who had the better view. I’m also working on a rewrite of one of my own projects.

3. I am going to be “sick” tomorrow (see #1) and spending the day at The Philadelphia Zoo with sixty third graders in 92 degree heat. I had hoped to sign the permission slip for this trip and kiss the kid goodbye on zoo day with his disposable lunch and some money for the gift shop, but he looked at me with those big brown eyes and asked me to chaperone “like the other moms,” so how could I say no? I anticipate a headache and a sunburn tomorrow night.

4. Special thanks to my friend Lauren for introducing me to Gossip Girl. By “thank you” I actually mean “thanks a lot for spearheading a crack-like addiction.” I am sucked into the drama in the middle of Season One and obsessed with Serena van der Woodsen  (Blake Lively) with her beautiful hair and complicated love life, and the grungy Brooklyn art gallery dad Rufus (Matthew Settle) who is like the coolest dad ever, and the almost-too-pretty-to-look-at Chace Crawford. Being in the middle of not one, but two writing projects is not conducive to a growing Gossip Girl addiction. Damn you Netflix, for being so awesome! Lauren and Netflix did this to me once before with Friday Night Lights and I ended up watching five seasons in about three months (“Texas Forever”) and fell in love with Taylor Kitsch. Now it’s starting again. While I’m on the topic, ready fans?  Tim Riggins vs. Nate Archibald.  GO!

Tim Riggins (Taylor Kitsch)
Nate Archibald (Chace Crawford)

5. Father Handsome. Speaking of crushes, my mother and I have an inappropriate crush on a priest who she has deemed “Father Handsome.” Father Handsome said mass Sunday which prompted me to spend $1.99 to download The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough onto my Kindle. I remember watching the miniseries on television in 1983 and I think I’ve read the book before but I’m going to read it again now as an adult. Any fans?

6. Tornadoes suck. Thoughts and prayers to those in Oklahoma. I can’t believe the pictures and news I’m reading. Is there anything that can be done to prevent disasters like these? Mother Nature can’t be tamed or brought to justice. We are all at Her mercy.

7. NBA Playoffs. The Knicks are out but the Pacers-Heat matchup is turning into an interesting series (tied at 2-2). Does anyone else find sports way more enjoyable when you don’t really care who wins? It’s so stress-free.  A totally different experience. It’s also quieter since my husband isn’t cursing at the television.

8. I found out that Chaturanga Man, (you remember my yoga instructor, yes?) is a pharmacist. This discovery weirded me out a bit. Does it make sense? On Sunday he wore a shirt that displayed three words. The first two words were “Karma” and “Dharma,” but the third word was hidden, bunched around his waist area. I would have died if it said “Pharma,” but it didn’t. It said “Zen.” I would look for a pic of the shirt and post it but I don’t want WordPress to have a freak out and shut me down.

9. Is anybody following this Mexico Mom Drug Bust story? This devout Mormon woman (a mom of seven) goes to Mexico for a funeral and gets on the bus to come home and the bus gets stopped by Mexican authorities who find twelve pounds of marijuana under her seat. She claims she was set up and surmises that the authorities wanted to bribe her. In fact, according to the news report the authorities told the woman and her husband that $5000 would secure her freedom, but when the husband scrapped together the money the woman was not released– they claimed she’d been transferred to another jail. I think I believe her story. Am I nuts?

10. Apologies for my WordPress absence. I haven’t posted or read my followed blogs recently but as soon as I get these projects moving, I’ll be back! Be on the lookout for my next post which I think is going to be about The Love Boat. Yep, that Love Boat.

Have a nice night!

(Pics:  Taylor, http://www.ourbestbites.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/tim-riggins.jpg; Chace, http://amumag.com/images/2013/02/Chace-Crawford-photo.jpg )

Washing The Dishes-Rewriting

Previously I compared rewriting and editing to washing the dishes. For me, writing that first draft is like enjoying a fine meal. The editing part–washing the dishes. That dreaded task where you realize that the perfect story you created in your head somehow didn’t translate so well onto “paper.” Your perfect meal resulted in a sink full of burned pots and food scraps that clog the drain. Your Great American Novel read like crapola on a cracker, served with a side of bad grammar and plot holes as wide as the Delaware Water Gap.

Rewriting. Ugh! Screw the Fairy Godmother! Where’s the Editing Fairy when you need her? I would like to barf out a draft and wake up to perfection, courtesy of the fairy.

But, alas, writing wouldn’t be as rewarding without the rewrite. Heck, everyone would be a writer if all it took was banging out a first draft. Rewriting separates the women from the girls, the men from the boys, the writers from the “aspirers.” The pots and pans resulting from the gourmet meal from the bag of empty disposable cardboard from fast food.

I have a lot of rewriting to do this summer. My project with Angela, a screenplay, was ripped apart by an expert (rightly so). I have various projects in draft form, including two novels and a collection of short stories. I feel them calling me like abandoned orphans: “Jess! Don’t forget about us! You loved us once. Don’t leave us to waste away on your C drive!”

I’ll tell ya. I’m tempted. Other ideas, fresh ideas, parade through my head wanting my attention, begging me to plaster them into a new document on my MacBook, dying for me to let them out. NaNoWriMo is teasing me for a November try. They are all so hard to resist!

But I will resist. I owe it to my abandoned orphans to wash the dishes and clean up the messes. Someday you may come visit my house, and I wouldn’t want you to see my sink in that condition. Someday you may seek to read my stuff, and I wouldn’t want you to see my first drafts in their condition.

So wish me luck. If you know the Editing Fairy, send her my way. Please!

I leave you with some quotes on rewriting, which I found on about.com (link:  http://grammar.about.com/od/advicefromthepros/a/rewritequotes.htm.) in a post by Richard Nordquist.

If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.
(Elmore Leonard, Newsweek, April 22, 1985)

I have rewritten–often several times–every word I have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasers.
(Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory, Random House, 1966)

I work extremely hard so that [my editor] will not have to work extremely hard. I write and rewrite and rewrite and write and like to turn in what I think is finished work.
(Gay Talese, “Birnbaum v. Gay Talese,” The Morning News, July 6, 2006)

The main thing I try to do is write as clearly as I can. I rewrite a good deal to make it clear.
(E.B. White, The New York Times, August 3, 1942)

Thanks for reading. Have a nice night.

Sweet you rock and sweet you roll . . .

I’m happy to accept the Super Sweet Blogging Award from some Super Sweet Bloggers! Those who know me know that I LOVE both blogging awards and my sweets. Chocolate especially. And ice cream. And candy. Anything sweet, really. So this award not only delights me, but makes me hungry. As does this picture of cupcakes:

Yum!

THE RULES:

1-Thank the Super Sweet Blogger that nominated you.

2-Answer the five super sweet questions (below).

3-Include the Super Sweet Blogging Award in your blog post (above).

4-Nominate a baker’s dozen (13) other bloggers.

5-Notify your nominees on their blog.

First, as per the above listed rules, I would like to thank those who nominated me for this delish award:

Especially Made – In her own words, her blog “is a testimony of a mother’s journey in raising up a child with special needs in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” Thank you, Especially Made, for sweetly sharing the joys and challenges of your life and by inspiring and encouraging.

Shaun at Looking for Reasoning to a Complicated World- You may know him as the creator of the “WordPress Family Award,” or you may know him for his posts sharing his life despite being disabled. I am sad to learn that he is taking a hiatus from blogging, but I hope he returns someday. Thank you, Shaun for the nomination and for spending part of your life on WordPress. You will be missed.

Finally, my Blogger Sibling:  Chronicles of a Public Transit User– Anyone who reads my blog must know by now how much I enjoy PTU. Seriously, give a follow. How someone can stay so sweet while having to ride the bus everyday is a mystery to me!

Now, onto the questions:  THE 5 SWEET QUESTIONS:

1-Cookies or Cake? – Cake! Cookies! Anything Gluten Free for me!

2-Chocolate or Vanilla? – Chocolate. Puh-lease. Are you serious?

3–Favorite Sweet Treat? – Chocolate. Anything chocolate.

4-When do you crave sweet things the most? Around 3 pm when I’m ready to pass out from boredom at work.

5-Sweet Nick Name? My dad used to call me “Pumpkin.” Is that sweet enough?

I now nominate my Bakers Dozen. Well, not really. I’m kind of tired and I want to get this published sometime before midnight, so I’ll do my best. The following bloggers are fairly new to me and I wanted to share them with you:

Zia– at Zia’s Site.  Zia is a super-sweet blogger from South Australia who was born with Muscular Dystrophy. She shares her writing and her life with us, including her love for her lop-eared rabbits and Eclectus Parrots, her gardening adventures, and her crush on Gordon Ramsay. After a short hiatus from blogging, she’s back. I look forward to her posts and hope she accepts this award!

Wiley Schmidt– at Wiley’s Wisdom. Wiley took me a minute or two to figure out, but Wiley is actually a four-year old terrier mutt who blogs. Geez, there’s no better definition of sweet than a picture of Wiley. Wiley’s been nominated for numerous awards, so I don’t expect him to accept, but I wanted to say “hi.”  HI WILEY!

Katie – at The D/A Dialogues. “Exploring the sometimes-fractious relationship between an author and the character in her head as they go about writing a book together.” I love that line! I’m just getting to know the sweet and talented Katie and hope you join me.

Kendra – at Sunshine from Shadows. Kendra’s site is beautiful. She’s beautiful. She wrote the cutest post about what she would do if she got rid of the husband for a weekend. Check out her sweetness!

Completely Disappear. She’s a Thai woman practicing her English by blogging. She creates sweet, beautiful photos and takes piano classes and has already been Liebstered! I hope she accepts this Super Sweet Award and continues to share her lovely view of life with us.

Michelle – at JustMeMichelleAndI. I think “Michelle” (not her real name, as she admits in her “About” page) is my Baby Blogger Sister. I am addicted to her posts about her adventures with “Jack” (I suggested she move on) and her search for love. She’s not only sweet, she’s hot. Check her out!

Rachel – at Racheve. Are you all following Racheve yet? Like Michelle (above), Rachel is my Baby Blogger Sister from across the lake.  She’s freaking out about turning 30. She has eight months to go. I try to tell her that the 30’s are AWESOME and she shouldn’t freak until she’s eight months from 40, but she’s still not convinced. She’s super sweet. Go convince her that the best is still ahead of her.  Please!

Also feel free to appreciate the sweetness of my two psuedo-sisters in real life, who also happen to blog, Nicole  and Angela. No post about sweetness is complete without them, so I hereby nominate them for the Super Sweet Blogging Award.

Okay, I am out of steam and I have yet to inform these nominees of their award. I am sorry to all you Super Sweet Bloggers out there who I missed.

Thanks for indulging my walk down the blogging red carpet!

Have a nice night!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Escape

I’m sure this isn’t exactly what The Daily Post had in mind with this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge, but I couldn’t resist …

20130517-202016.jpg
AHHHHH!

THE LAUNDRY MONSTER! You will NEVER escape me! Sure, you may contain me for a day or two, but I am ALWAYS here, lingering, waiting, building up every hour and ready to attack your weekend! Bwah ha ha ha ha!

The 1% and Disney

Disney has a policy in place for disabled patrons (along with up to six of their guests) to access rides from a “more convenient entrance” and avoid the long wait lines. Disney also offers a personal family tour guide and VIP passes for non-disabled (and presumably disabled) families for $310 to $380 per hour.

An article in the NY Post dated May 14 (link here) revealed that a group of wealthy, Manhattan moms have been hiring disabled people to pose as family members during trips to Disney so that their families can cut the lines.

Apparently a social anthropologist researching wealthy New York moms for a book discovered the practice. This “service” or “black-market Disney guides” as it is being referred to, is a bargain at $130/hour. The result of hiring one of these “guides” is that instead of waiting 2 1/2 hours for your kids to get on a ride the regular way, you wait two minutes and get on the ride via the disabled procedures.

Dream Tours Florida, the company allegedly involved, denied that their Disney guide (who suffers from an autoimmune disorder and requires a scooter to get around the park)  uses her disability to bypass lines.

In a CNN follow-up article (link here), a spokesperson for Disney called taking advantage of the disabled guest policy “unacceptable,” and noted that Disney is looking into the situation and “will take appropriate steps to deter this type of activity.”

One of the wealthy moms who utilized the “black-market” service is quoted as saying: “This is how the 1 percent does Disney.”

Well, this is how the 99% responds– “Yick.” At least that’s how I respond. According to the articles, some people are okay with this practice, figuring that at least the wealthy are sharing their wealth and that this is a great way for disabled people to make money.

I think it’s sad and pathetic and yick.

For one thing, what is this practice teaching the one-percenters’ kids? To me, it teaches them that they can exploit the disabled (as long as they pay them) to satisfy their every whim. That standing in line is for the poor people. That patience may be a virtue, but it’s also a drag when rides are involved. That spending a thousand dollars a day to impose upon a privilege reserved for disabled people is a worthy investment.

How about the fact that these families could probably afford the legitimate Disney guide for the $310 per hour?

Here’s an idea! If these families are such supporters of accommodating the disabled, why not give that grand they spent on the disabled tour guide to a charity that supports the disabled and their rights, and wait on line like the rest of society?

Just because people have a disability, or because companies like Disney try to accommodate them, doesn’t mean we should exploit them in the name of “hey, at least they’re getting paid!” For me it’s an issue of money vs. morality. Does payment make something right? Doesn’t the payment become the tree in the forest? By that I mean maybe it’s not hurting anyone directly, but looking at the big picture, doesn’t this practice drag us down as a society?

Disney is a big thing. For them to even care one inkling about special needs patrons is a big thing. It sets an example to other big corporations. It helps parents of kids with special needs. It helps kids with special needs experience someplace magical. Some people argue that the fact of being at Disney actually changes these kids.

I have a child with special needs and I hope to go to Disney with him someday. A major factor in that decision is that Disney had the foresight, thoughtfulness, business sense, or whatever motivation to accommodate him in a helpful manner.

If the people who don’t need the service end up being the cause of Disney terminating the service or making it more difficult for those who can actually benefit from the service, I’m going to be pissed off. And someday in the future when these one-percenters’ kids try to pay my disabled kid to do their dirty work, I’m going to be pissed off even more.

To these one-percenter families: keep your money to yourself and use it for good, not to promote laziness and impatience and to set a bad example for your own kids.

[As an aside, I feel the need to point out that the crappy one-percenter moms are taking the hit for this. Why aren’t the crappy dads mentioned? Dads aren’t required to have morals? But that’s another post for another day.]

I just needed to vent.  Thanks for reading and have a nice night.

“However”

Today I had some free time between a school meeting for M. and a work event, so I took a side trip to the Barnes & Noble to check out their supply of grammar books. I ended up purchasing Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style, because I felt like I needed to have it on my shelf, but I also bought Grammar Girl’s Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing, by Mignon Fogarty. (You can check out the website at http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com, but I’m not linking for fear of the WordPress Police). The cover attracted me because the little cartoon figure resembles a young me 🙂

photo-45
Grammar Girl’s Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing
by Mignon Fogarty

Later during JC’s karate class I had a minute to flip through the Grammar Girl book. It looks very informative and enjoyable. Obviously, I need to read it because just from scanning the information I realize I’m a writing disaster. Besides my love affair with the comma, I use fragments and improper punctuation, etc. etc. I will study the book and try to write better– I promise (I also overuse the “dash,” which I shouldn’t be typing with the hyphen key either).

In the meantime, I wanted to talk about one of my favorite words: “however.” One of my many bosses informed me that I am never to start a sentence with “however.”  Instead, “however” should always be in the middle of the sentence surrounded by commas.  For example:

I would like to win the lottery. However, I did not buy a ticket.

vs.

I would like to win the lottery, however, I did not buy a ticket.

To me, the first option makes more sense. The second option seems like a run-on.

I consulted the Grammar Girl book and she says I can use “however” in the beginning of a sentence, as long as I have the comma afterwards (*and Jess sticks her tongue out at boss behind his back*). I believe this is because “however” in the above examples is a conjunctive adverb and can be interpreted as “nevertheless,” whereas “however” without a comma takes on a whole new meaning:

However hard I tried, I could not win the lottery.

In this example, “however” is not a conjunctive adverb. Instead, it means “to whatever extent.”

Grammar Girl does note that old-school grammar traditionalists frown upon the practice of starting a sentence with “however.” An option to satisfy those traditional grammar geeks is to use the semicolon, with a comma after “however”:

I would like to win the lottery; however, I did not buy a ticket.

Addressing the Boss’s preferences for “however,” Grammar Girl does give the example of using “however” in the middle of the sentence, but not when it is connecting two independent clauses. For example, a proper use would be:

The lottery, however, is difficult to win.

When “however” is used like this, there should always be commas surrounding it.”The lottery” and “is difficult to win” are not independent clauses in this example. You wouldn’t write: “The lottery; however, is difficult to win.” Nor would you write: “The lottery. However, is difficult to win.”

So in this Boss Battle, I guess we are both right, depending on the sentence. (By the way, starting a sentence with “so” is also a no-no and I do it CONSTANTLY. How do you people even stand to read my horrendous writing? Ugh!).

Just thought I’d share; however, I realize you are all excellent writers.

Have a nice night!

I Wasn’t Kidding About Bingo!

(Just in case you thought I was kidding about my Adventures in Bingo in my Bonkers at Bingo post …)

A bit of Bingo Background is necessary for you to appreciate this blog post: Prior to partaking in the joy that is Bingo, Bingo patrons must pay an admission fee ($1.00) and get an admission “ticket.” They then receive a book of Bingo “cards” (cheesy paper Bingo sheets) and have the option to purchase extra cards for the various games.

The Bingo admission process involves about seven or so Bingo workers sitting at a long fold-out table. After patrons pay their admission and get their free book of cards at the first worker, they continue down the assembly line and purchase any extra game cards they may desire from the remaining workers who sit at the table behind cash bins and books of whatever sheet they are selling.

Most seniors know exactly what they want and have an entire system for purchasing tickets. For example, they may start at the first worker and pay their dollar admission with a $20 bill, thus receiving $19 in change. They will then use that $19 to systematically purchase additional Bingo sheets down the line, ranging in price from $1.00 to $4.00 per sheet, until they get to the end of the line and are down to exactly zero dollars left. It’s an art.  It’s a science. It’s Bingo.

At the end of the table they have the opportunity to purchase daubers and scotch tape (to tape their cheesy paper Bingo cards to the tables and torture the workers even more, who must scrape the tape off at the end of the night).

For whatever reason, Seniors being Seniors feel the need to line up a half hour before we start to sell. Maybe it has to do with seniors always wanting to be early for stuff? Personally, I’d wait until there was no line and then walk right to the table to buy my stuff. Especially if I was old and not used to standing. But I digress . . . Maybe it’s a generation gap thing.

Back to the Bingo Hall. Eventually the more savvy seniors figured out that instead of standing around on their arthritic joints waiting for us slugs, the better option is to drag chairs over to the line and sit comfortably while waiting.

The result? The long (empty) admission table grows a tail consisting of about fifty to one hundred plastic chairs filled with seniors waiting to purchase their Bingo wares.

This, Blogtropolis, is “The Purchase Line.”

Back to the night in question. It was the last Tuesday of the month so I dragged myself to Bingo after work. When it was time to tackle admissions, I quickly jumped on the first seat ($1.00 per person is easier to calculate than $4.00 per sheet, 5 sheets please, here’s a $50, etc. I am math-challenged). So as the first person at the long admission table, I was responsible for taking each person’s $1.00 admission fee and giving them a packet of “cards” and an admission “ticket.” After giving them their stuff, I usually say something like “good luck!” Some of them get mad, because apparently saying “good luck” is bad luck, but I feel the need to say something.  Respect for elders, blah blah.

As I geared up ready to tackle the Purchase Line, imagine my surprise when the Bingo Dude (“Master in Charge”) hands me an extra pile of papers that I am required to hand out. Ugh! Old people don’t like changes in the routine (by “old people” I’m referring to myself as well as the Bingo patrons), and an extra paper would most definitely slow down the line.

I gave Bingo Dude a dirty look and checked out the extra paper. This is what it read:

BINGO REMINDERS

*Effective IMMEDIATELY, space saving in the Purchasing Line is prohibited. If an empty chair is put in the line to save a space, it will be removed.

* Any person making a physical or verbal threat to another Bingo player will be asked to leave immediately.

* Bullying, verbal disagreements and other offensive actions and words will not be tolerated.

Thank you.

WOWZERS! After some investigation (by that I mean gossiping with the other parents) I learned that there was a fight in the Purchase Line the week prior between a “regular” and an “amateur” when the “amateur” tried to save a seat in the Purchasing Line! Apparently threats of physical injury were tossed around by the”regular” (who Bingo Dude said “should have known better”). Workers had to intervene and rumor has it that the situation got messy and uncomfortably awkward. The young’uns had to yell at the elders. Drama, drama, drama.

IT’S BINGO, People! It’s SUPPOSED to be FUN!

I must admit that upon learning about the disruptive events I felt a pang of disappointment that I had missed the excitement. I also became a little nervous about working Bingo that night. There was a huge crowd (“the progressive” was “up”), and nobody would reveal to me which “regular” was involved in the scuffle. I made sure to be extra nice to everyone for my own safety!

Thankfully, the night I worked was uneventful (maybe the extra notice to behave kept them all in check). The only person complaining was the Sucker roped into selling poppers (see prior Bingo post for the background of the Problematic Poppers). After selling two rounds of poppers, she joined the rest of us hiding out in the Bingo money room and flopped down in a chair, exhausted. She then whipped out her phone and settled into her happy place, declaring she’d “rather have a root canal” then go back out into the Bingo room. I quickly put my index finger on the side of my nose and yelled, “NOT DOING POPPERS” because I sure as hell wasn’t going out there either!

The only other excitement that night was when Bingo Dude approached me with a promotion of sorts.  As an experienced parent I was pressured to advance up the Bingo Hall ladder of success. Lucky for me, I am now being trained to be a Bingo Banker. I get to hang out in the Bingo hiding spot and count money, entering the establishment’s earnings on a sophisticated Excel spreadsheet. It was either Bingo Banker training, or Number Caller training. Calling numbers is the second most horrific Bingo duty, after poppers. Banking has zero exposure. Poppers and calling = full exposure.

In conclusion, I’m here to tell you that the next time you hear seniors complaining about violence and gangs and “this day and age,” feel free to tell them that violence happens in their world too, at the Bingo Hall. I wonder if they’ll soon start wearing “colors” and begin initiating the “amateurs”?  I would not be surprised.

Here’s a pic of the Bingo Notice. I’m not making this stuff up, people! Have a nice night.

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Overnight Post- Happy Mother’s Day

For anyone who may think Mother’s Day is just another “Hallmark Holiday”; who grumbles about having to spend their precious Sunday with Mom; who mindlessly sputters, “Every day is Mother’s Day”; let me describe what’s happening in Jess’s house at midnight on May 10.

I am laying on one of two twin beds pushed together in M.’s room, wide awake typing this post on my iPhone because I left my iPad at work while rushing to get home to my M. who had two teeth pulled today.

Why two twin beds? Because M. isn’t a consistent sleeper. Yep, he’ll be eight next month. EIGHT. Eight years of wondering how much sleep I’ll be blessed with. Seven of those years I was up every night at some point or other. For four of those years I can honestly say I slept no more than four to five hours a night, sometimes in fifteen-minute increments.

But I digress… Where were we? Oh right, the twin beds. See, the “original plan” (you know the plan I mean… it’s the one when you are pregnant with number two where you assume numbers 1 and 2 will be BFFs and 2 will typically develop and, um, sleep) was for JC and M. to share a room. M. being a vampire blew that plan apart. JC now takes residence in another room with its own bed, leaving an extra twin–my twin–in M.’s room. Somewhere in year five or six, my mother in law came up with the idea to push the beds together so I could get some sleep, instead of me being crammed in one twin with M.

Judge if you must, but remember I am old, I have a full time job, and I need sleep. By Year Five of having Edward Cullen for a son (Twilight reference– Stephenie Meyers’s vampires don’t sleep), I would have sold my soul to the Devil for an extra hour of shut eye. Child psychology and expert opinions can go screw at 3 a.m. on a work night.

Digressing, I know. Back to M.

Yesterday’s note from M.’s teacher mentioned a “stomach bug.” Good thing M. didn’t catch that one!, I told myself.

Wrong! He caught it. Poor kid has been throwing up all night.

So I am on M.’s twin, on the plastic mattress cover, with a towel for a pillow and the annoying guardrail next to me, while M. sleeps restlessly next to me, alternating between shivering and sweating, on the last clean set of sheets (which are covered with towels that he somehow manages to miss while heaving).

The bathtub in his bathroom (yep, he has his own bathroom– our town home has 3.5 baths– which makes a great excuse for a cleaning lady) is full of germ-laden, festering laundry. Sheets, blankets, towels, clothes, pajamas. Should be a fun day tomorrow!

Still, as I lay here uncomfortable and overly tired, wondering if I will be fired from my job for calling out tomorrow and wondering how I will get my iPad for the weekend since I left it in my unlocked office, and wondering if I can reschedule everything we were supposed to do tomorrow, and dreading laundry, and wondering when JC will catch the bug, if I had one wish granted to me right now I would wish for M. to feel better. That is really all I want from life at this moment. The other stuff is just distraction.

Your Mom does a lot for you. Even if you don’t realize it. Even if you think she doesn’t do much now for you, at some point she did. At some point she stayed up all night watching you, her sick child, sleep to make sure you were okay. Maybe she even spent the next day doing craploads of laundry.

Wish your Mom a Happy Mother’s Day this weekend. And wish me luck as I battle The Stomach Bug of May 2013.

WOAW Fiction – The Coffee Ban (Part 2)

I got nothin’ for the Weekly Writing Challenge, so I’m punting with Part 2 of The Coffee Ban. Tension builds as coffee fans deal with the elimination of their favorite beverage. You can read Part 1 here. Hope you enjoy.

DAY THREE: Columbus, Ohio

Stan and Sarah stared at their stockpile of coffee products, neatly stacked in the basement pantry. “I think we are set for awhile,” Stan said proudly.

“Yeah, we have enough coffee here to satiate the entire county.”

Stan was one of early ones. He scurried to the nearest bulk wholesale store before the President finished her speech two days ago and bought out every ounce of coffee on the shelves, filling up three shopping carts that he pushed like a train in front of him. Eighty K-cups per box, thirty-five boxes, equalled 2800 cups of coffee. He further calculated that at four cups a day, the coffee would last them seven-hundred days. Just less than two years.

This coffee issue should be cleared up by then, he thought.

DAY FOUR: Los Angeles, California

Marnie hung the sign on the shop window: “NO MORE COFFEE. WHY NOT TRY SOME CHAI TEA?” A teenager drinking a can of Diet Coke threw the soda can at the sign as he passed. Marnie ducked, even though she was behind glass, as the remains of his soda dribbled down her sign over the glass door.

“Geez,” she said. She walked behind the counter and looked for her manager. “Hey Dave?”

Dave was stocking the tea. He looked at Marnie through exhausted eyes. “What’s up, Marn?”

She told him what had happened. “I think we should take down the sign. The tea comment seems to be angering people.”

“Okay,” he said. “Would you mind wiping up the soda? Maybe I’ll have you put a small display of mugs near the window instead.”

Marnie smiled and nodded. As she cleaned the window she thought about what she would wear to accept her Best Actress Oscar at the Academy Awards someday.

DAY FOUR: East Windsor, New Jersey

Why? Why is the baby awake at five a.m.? Nicole thought, as she dragged herself out of bed, silently cursing her sleeping husband. She could barely keep her eyes open as she walked through the hallway to the baby’s room. At the sight of his mother, he sat up in his crib and smiled.

“Really?” she asked him. He was cute, but five in the morning was early. Even for cute. He reached his little arms out to her and she lifted him up, settling him on her hip. She started down the stairs and scuffled into the kitchen.

Automatically, she flipped open the top of her coffee machine. “Oh, right,” she mumbled. “Damn.”

Within a half hour, she had fallen back to sleep on the couch while the baby sat in his playpen, playing with his cars. She woke up when the other three paraded down the stairs, demanding breakfast and cartoons.

Nicole yawned as she turned on the television. It’s going to be a long day, she thought. She decided she hated the President.

DAY FOUR: Columbus, Ohio

Stan opened the door and saw a strange woman pacing his porch.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Oh, um, hi. This is going to sound odd, but are you Stan?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I heard you have coffee,” she said quietly.

Stan raised his eyebrows.

“Ten cups. That’s all I need.” Her hands shook as she pled with Stan.

Stan rubbed his chin, covered with his morning beard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “The coffee supply is dry. President said so on television a couple of hours ago.”

“I drove here all the way from Cleveland,” she said. “Please. Is it true? I’ll pay. Anything.”

Holy Coffee Beans, thought Stanley, as he ushered her into the house.

DAY FIVE: Los Angeles, California

Marnie enjoyed the sunlight as she walked across the Boulevard to the coffee shop, stopping on the curb in front of the store. Quietly on the sidewalk blocking the door, sat a group of people holding signs. “Drink Tea! The Healthier Option!”, “Tea for Two? Four? Drink as much as you want!”, “Tea has Caffeine too!”

Marnie tiptoed through the middle of the group, careful not to step on anyone, and opened the door to the shop. This will be an interesting day, she thought, as she grabbed an apron and punched her time card.

DAY FIVE : Washington, D.C.

Carolyn sat at her desk in the Oval Office watching television footage of her country falling to pieces now that the coffee supply had run dry. Violence erupted as the so-called “Tea Time” movement tried to “help” by showing aggravated, withdrawing coffee addicts the wonders of the tea leaf. People were searching for coffee, hoping to find a black market. It was Prohibition all over again.

Joe walked in with a cup of tea for her. He had become a convert. “Tea time,” he joked.

Carolyn scowled at her husband. “I have to do something about this. People are freaking out. I’ll never get reelected unless I bring coffee back.”

“It will take a couple of days for everyone to break the addiction and discover the wonders of tea.” Joe smiled as he leaned over Carolyn’s desk and placed the cup on her blotter. “They’ll be healthier and happier because of it and they’ll all vote for you for your second term.”

The First Gentleman’s smug look made her want to vomit and the tone of his voice sounded like nails screeching along a chalkboard. “Out,” she said.

He froze, shocked. “But honey . . . ”

“OUT,” she yelled. “And take your precious tea with you!”

Stay tuned for Part 3!  Have a nice night!