Okay...minor decisions first--cotton intarsia baby blanket? What cotton intarsia baby blanket? I'm just not stupid enough to start a cotton intarsia baby blanket right now...do I look certifiably insane? Okay, fine, less eye make-up...I'm really not that crazy.
Next, a couple of conversations from recent days that have totally cracked me up:
Cave Troll: MOM!!! NEED TISSUE!!! I HAVE BOOGERS!!! NEED TISSUE NEED TISSUE NEED TISSUE...
Mom: Okay okay okay... (picture mom, running around like a giant headless chicken) hereyago, little man, here's your tissue.
Cave Troll: Thanks, Mom. Here's a booger.
Mom: (Looking at her hand in pained amusement) Thanks, Cave Troll. I don't have any of my own.
Cave Troll: ' Welcome Mom.
This next one happened this morning as we were on our way (among other things, Rae) to drop a package off at UPS, and to drop off books (my books:-) to sell at a nearby book store:
Me: (Facetiously, joking about how excited I was that my first three books had sold out of the book store:-) So--how does it feel to be married to a struggling artist?
Mate: You have a full time job--it's not like I'm pulling you out of heroin cribs and dragging you home to your children.
Me: Fine. How does it feel to be married to a fat English teacher?
Mate: It's great--she writes books!
Me: (sourly) You know this conversation is blog-fodder.
Mate: Bullshit--I'm not that interesting.
Me: (now, as I write and giggle:-) Ha! Take that, beloved Mate!!!
And this last one (roughly paraphrased) that I had with the Lady In Red. I had just sent her an excerpt from BITTERMOON, (which I will post in a moment) asking her if it was 'Young Adult' or 'Too Adult'. To which she replied, "Woman, you write the most pornless porn of anyone I know." This cracked me up, but it did force me into another minor decision.
*sigh* I'm gonna hafta bite the bullet and do it--I'm going to have to write the story I need to write and publish it for mass distribution, and then pull out the "pornless porn" for my children and leave them with the story and not the description. It's going to be hella expensive, but I need to love what I'm writing to write it well, and I can't love it when I'm censoring it, even from myself. Two versions it will be--and as for what constitutes "pornless porn"--I'll let you judge for yourself:
Their classes grew busier, more intense, as everybody prepared for finals after the Samhain break. The night they got back, Trieste greeted Torrant with such a fervent kiss that he found himself closing his eyes in odd moments just to savor her taste.
They continued kissing, learning the joys of bodies pressed close in corners, of the brief touch of lips in greeting and farewell, of cold hands on warm tummies and the squealing and touching and laughter that ensued. He loved the way her eyes closed before he put his lips to hers, and the feel of her breath on his face just before that happened. He enjoyed the dark feeling of her fine hair as it spilled around his fingers, and the terrible sensitivity of his body, hard and full and aching under his clothes, as she pressed on top of him. One touch, he often thought in a delicious ecstasy of agony, one touch of her soft cool hand against his bare skin and his body would explode in a scorch of fireworks behind his eyes and in his pants and possibly even out his toes.
The anticipation was as wonderful as the smug knowledge that someday, someday soon, it would happen, it would happen between them and he would feel her skin on his without interruption or excuse and the thing, the glorious warmth between them would wash over his body like a velvet wave.
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