D'oh!

It's been over a week since I've posted...time flies.

So, I've been thinking about friendship, new and old, and how much I love it. That sounds sappy. Luckily, I don't care. I seriously don't care if I sound sappy or Pollyana-ish or, or any other metaphor you can come up with that, obviously, I cannot. Friendship is everything.

And by everything I mean, everything. I have different friends, I have friends since birth (literally--we were introduced at birth) since junior high school, since high school (lost and found) since moving to Rhode Island and back to Minnesota, since working at the library, and since I've been on line. And they all fill a certain need--or want--or empty place--or whatever.

You know what I mean.

My husband is my friend, but seriously, do you think he wants to talk cute shoes...or for that matter other cute dads at the school carnival--I think not. He doesn't even want to talk about books. Sheesh. Some friends fill many needs, some just a few. All are important.

All are important.

During my first marriage, I felt as if I had few friends. My long time friend Jeanne was one and if you can count my sister Patty, I had two. I was cut off, I won't blame it on him, because, no matter what, I allowed it. That felt yucky to say.

But now, I feel as if I am a magnet--or a bully: be my friend. Now. When I met one of my best friends, Michelle Buonfiglio, she came into the library and asked about romances--I pounced on her--not literally, we don't like each other that way. Anyway, she kept coming into the library and we kept talking. And then we saw each other at school. We were shawked.

Seriously.

Then I finally said, here's my e-mail, we should go out to lunch. I made her be my friend.

I've always been happy for my one time aggressiveness. Never had I done that before. Maybe in kindergarten (not the e-mail address, cuz that was in the olden days when there was only fire and string) but I may have made someone come over to play Barbies--I think she was invented (I'm joking, of course she was, we're the same age, Barbie and me.)

So my point is, I love my friends and will do anything for them. Seriously.

What would you do for your friend?

Manic Monday

Such good intentions.

I'll take a shower and get ready for work before my youngest leaves for school, then I'll be ready to fly out the door to get the grocery shopping done, get back home and have plenty of time for writing before I actually have to be to work.

D'oh.

I should know better, I've done this before.

I have a habit of trying to cram too many things in too short a time span. I think it keeps me lively.

Or crazy.

Really, I wouldn't have it any other way. I know, it sounds stupid--but I'd rather have a lot to do--I think I actually get more done that way. Too much time equals too much time to waste.

Okay, I might be lying, I do that sometimes. Because I also like to have great expanses of time with nothing to do but sit and read.

Aaah.

Which would you rather have too much time or too many things to do?

Much Ado-doo About Nothin'

That's right--nothin'. Nada. Zero, zip, zilch, as my Dad used to say.

I'm stuck. I got nothing. I'm talking about writing--I got plenty of other stuff, but writing? Plenty of nothing. I know, I know, if I just keep writing something magical will happen and all kinds of ideas and plot twists shall appear.

It's just that...I don't wanna.

I mean I do, but I don't. My husband jokes with me and says, "You want to have written a book, but you don't want to be writing one."

Maybe, maybe in a way he's right except when it really is magic and the words fly from my brain to my fingertips onto the keyboard and appear on the screen. Then, then I want to be writing a book.

To be writing, or not to be writing, that is the question--whether tis nobler...oh, what the hell--I chose to be writing.

It might make me crazy, but at least it keeps me from going crazy. And I have to prove my husband wrong (not about the 'have written' just about the not wanting 'to be' writing).

The Wheels On The Bus Go Round 'N Round...

Hey, I've got an idea, I'm going to take the 10 year old on a bus ride to visit our good friends. It will be exciting...

And it was, the first hour. The last seven and a half hours? Not so much so.

The DVD player didn't hold its charge, I couldn't get the laptop connected to the free WiFi on the bus, and we forgot Bunny. He has never gone to sleep without Bunny, literally. He talks about maybe he's too old for a stuffed animal, but I think when you've been with someone your whole life they're more than a stuffed animal, they're your friend.

The main point is all these things are tied to the bus for him--it is, in fact, the bus's fault that Bunny was left at home, that the DVD player didn't hold its charge and for no internet--well, that's true, it is the bus's fault. Now the cool thing is we played a couple card games (we're talented) and 20 questions and looked at cows and horses along the way--he actually did great with hardly any electronics.

But he's sworn never to set foot on a bus again, luckily, because the bus was so dang cheap I was able to book us on a flight home. He's really excited about it...

Of all the best laid plans what have been your worst ideas?