A New Novel

came bubbling up last
night.

I guess it was boiling, seething
under the surface for a while
now. I didn't know about it.

It blew last night while I was
in bed with my laptop and
my hubby.

He read while I typed.

"No way, you're not going
there. Are you?" he says.

"A Parapsychology Professor?"

"A gay, ex crack addict mathematics
professor sidekick?"

"You're a whack job, Paige."

We'll see.

What In The World

happened yesterday in Minnesota?

A 17 year old boy killing twelve people.

Including his grandparents.

He rambled through his high school shooting people to death.

I heard a DJ on Sirius say early this morning, "Parents, you need
to keep up with what's going on with your kids." He was referring
to the massacre.

I was taken aback and thought, "How does he know what is going on with that kid's relationship
with his parents? " Quick to pass judgement on the parents.

Then I thought, "that DJ must be childless."

Turns out the kid had no relationship with his parents. They
are both gone. POOF.

The Father commited suicide 4 years ago.

The Mother is in a nursing home with brain damage.

Now innocents are dead.

His wiring got all mixed up.

The mourning begins.

Schiavo Yes or No?

I am so on the fence about
Terry Schiavo.

I feel like I'm two people.

One says, "Mercy!"

One says, "She is starving to death!"

One says, "Let her go, she would've died
14 years ago if the medical establishment
didn't intervene."

One says, "We can't just let her waste away."

One says, "Are we going to keep her alive until
she passes from old age? 40 more years? Is she
aware she is hungry? I don't think so. Her brain
is dead."

Ok, I've jumped off the fence onto the let her pass side of the pasture.

I don't believe her soul is in there. It moved on a while back.

Here's Something

real fast
since I have to
shampoo my hair
and pick up the kids
from school.

I decided yesterday
as I sat inside watching
the outside to start
on a new novel.

I'm never going to
be a novelist if I sit
and wait for my first
manuscript to get
published.

It probably will never
get published. So, its time
to move on. Get a move on,
Girl.

I decided to go with mystery.

Oh shit, who knows what it
will turn out to be. My last
novel wrote itself. I lost control
of the story about 1/4 of the
way through anyway.

I need to find a literary agent.

I may as well put it out there.

Because my unsolicited
manuscripts are going
fricking nowhere.

Boom, over the transom,
back to me, it comes flying.

Or it sits in the sludge.

OK, off to take a shower.

I Can't Whine

about being unemployed
anymore.

I liked whining about
being LAID OFF
and how unjust it all
is.

But then again,
I can't sit around
and plead victim.

People get tired
fast of that schtick.

Move On! Hello!

So, I did.

I went to see my
new digs today.

NICE.

American Airlines
sucked for the last
few years.

My new company
has a sleek new building
in Research Triangle
Park and a full service
gym, a cafeteria,
unlimited coffee,
popcorn, snacks and
refreshments.

We had a soda machine
from 1979 that was
out of order most
of the time at my
last job. We didn't
even have a snack
machine for God's
sake.

What a fricking rathole
that place is.

I am so GLAD
I was laid off.

Opportunity knocked
and I answered.


Ah, it feels so good
to get this crap
off my chest and out
of my life.

It feels like I shrugged
off a flea infestation.

Speaking of fleas,
my cat, Midnight
is going in the cat
carrier tomorrow
morning for spaying.

She dragged her hinny
around the house a few
weeks for a whole week
screaming for some
male companionship.

I can't have that business
happening in my house
every month.

The ovaries have
got to go.

Tomorrow is
St. Patrick's Day.

Must wear green.

Bono and Ali

have a new clothing
line called Edun.

Nude backwards.

I guess the opposite of nude
is clothed, so there you go.

I tried to find a place
to look and buy.

It doesn't seem to be
available in stores
here in rural North Carolina.

Hum, I wonder why?

I sincerely hope
their clothes are
everything they say they
are and I don't get all
disappointed in one of
my favorite people
when I find out their
business venture..is yet
only that...a business
venture....and the workers
are being exploited..and
they get paid 25 cents a
day and they go home with
blood on their hands and I
walk around proudly in with
what I believe is a sound
investment in humanism.

I hope two years from now
or four years from now they do
not stray from their
cause and sell the business
because their passions move
forward...onto something
else...and the buyer is a
money monger probably
from the U.S...who does
not give a one kahoot about
the condition of the product
or how it came to be...

Then I'd be just as bad
for buying it than the person
who sold it...but then again
I'd be innocent because the
clothing would be cloaked
under the humanely sound
Edun label.

Ignorance is bliss...

Where did that rant come from?

I am so jaded.

My Life is

quite small
these days.

I haven't gone
anywhere new.

I can't travel
much anyway.

Who is going
to ferry my kid
to and from
school.

A Nanny?

I think if I
was self important
and so busy that
I had to hire a Nanny
to squire my kid
places then I would
get jealous of the
Nanny.

How great it
would be to get
to spend so much
time with my girl.

I have to remember
that this growing up
time for my kid is
short. One day I will
look back and wonder
how it went by so
lightning fast.

I realize this
and am happy
with putting
myself second.

In the scheme
of things. 18
years isn't much
time.

I feel like
a freshmen
in college again.

I gained the freshmen
fifteen after I quit
the cigs.

I ballooned up
swimmingly.

I miss the
cigs every now
and again.

Its been 9 months.


I'm having a hard
time believing I
actually don't smoke
anymore.

So, to try and
get the flab off.

I'm working out
and working out
and working out.

Its been two months
and I havent't lost
a frigging ounce.

How frustrating.

We are going to
DC for a couple
nights for Easter
this year.

My husband has
never been.
Thats bewilders
me. How can someone
grow up in the US
and never visit
the nation's capitol?

I'm Weirded Out

about my new
employer actually
inviting me to see their
building to see if it
is to my liking.

What's the deal?

So I ran out to
my mailbox today
to see if I received
another rejection
letter from one of
the biggie houses
on 5th Avenue.

Its so exciting
just to elicit a
response even
if it is negative.

I wonder what
it would be like
for them to call
me and ask me
if I can get something
written by say
2007 like Liz
did. She has two
years to write
a little diddy
about Diana.

I'm just jealous.

Petty jealousy.

Eating away at me.

I guess its better
to be jealous of
someone who
landed a serious
book contract than
say Paris Hilton.

Maybe my
manuscript
sucks.

The Universe Works

in strange ways.

Yesterday, a big ass
corporation contacted
me and asked me to
work for them.

I can write my own
ticket. I can work
whatever times I
choose.

I can take vacation
whenever I want.

They offered me a
good amount of money.

Last week I was begging
to work anywhere.

This week I'm in control.

How did that happen?

I guess somewhere
along the line I did
something good in
the KARMA
department.

Off to work out
with the Brazilian
hip hop lady on the
DVD.

Then I'll roll around
on the exercise ball.

I dusted my rice
chex with blueberries
this morning.

Pure white refined SUGAR
would have been better.

I can dream, can't I?

Is It Me?

Is it me?
Or is Blogger
acting funny today.

Unemployment sucks.
At first I smiled
to see a new day.
No stress.
No more worries
about working at the
most stressful place
in the world.

The Airport.

8 weeks later
and after much enjoyable
snacking. I still wake
up with a smile, but there
is something else.

I have the shape of a
PILLBUG.

I guess walking those
long airport concourses
did keep the hip o patomus
away.

Where did these hips come
from?

So now.

No more snickers.

I have to eat salad.

I have to roll around
4 times a week with my
exercise ball.

I have to work out 3 times
a week with the Brazilian
hip hop lady on the DVD.

I have to go to lame
interviews for jobs
I don't really want, but I
have to practically grovel
for because I'm in fear
of losing my home.

Screw it.
I've worked out three
times already this week.

I'm going to pick up a pizza.
No pepperoni.

Artists in Residence 

Here I Sit

Here I sit
unpublished in america
trying trying trying
people are looking
noone is seeing.

Maybe people are seeing
but the name isn't known
so noone is
taking a chance.

Maybe the wrong people
are looking and can't find
time to tip off the right
people.

To all of the
unpublished in America.
Don't put down your pens.