No Matter Where You Go, There You Are.

I woke up in the wee hours of Saturday, Oct 31 hearing footsteps on pavement and a young voice shouting, "HELP! Please HELP! She's not breathing!" I woke up a bit, listening, heart speeding up. It was awful and it wasn't over. The shouting continued, "Please help, she's not breathing!" and I was up out of bed, trying to ensure that my breathing stayed calm despite my heart rate. My fingers closed around the edge of a curtain while I visually combed the street outside my window. This was so disconcerting...and then...

I enjoy this show in ways that I couldn't do with Revenge , that particular style of soap having too many suds for my taste, like Victoria Grayson's biological son, a stripper being paid to lie to David, a lot of characters with no chemistry claiming to love each other, blah, blah. American Horror Story  hasn't premiered its latest season yet, I didn't want the medical jargon and beeping machines of something like Grey's Anatomy, and as I already implied, Revenge  lost my interest after a while. I came back to it just days ago to skip around episodes on Netflix...and put it aside to try the Ali Larter/Sean Bean show Legends.  

First of all, I lived in a very big, spacious house. Tell me, where was I getting that money , Emily Thorn? There I was, with a big ol' master bedroom and some kind of solo status 'cause Tom and I were no longer together. In the midst of this single life, I slept with some guy; he wasn't my type, either - short, sandy hair with a body and tan one tends to get from landscaping or surfing or something.

So I've just had another of those moments where I came face to face with my ego, and it's all because of the jaw-dropping news of Kermit and Miss Piggy's break-up . Seriously. I understand that we're all just people -  interesting, flawed human beings [and pigs and frogs] - even if some of us are famous actors / musicians who are currently going through divorce .

I skipped to the end of a book once. Are you upset with me?

Today I woke up about five minutes before my alarm and lay there thinking, the whole time, about brown recluse spiders. 

      So I set aside a few days to binge-watch  Grace & Frankie ;

    After weeks of working at a dive bar, six months living in a dinky two-bedroom apartment with a chick who goes by Strawberry but is legally named Amanda, and days of alternating between vegetables and take-out, rum and top-shelf bourbon with my roommate’s blues band and a crappy wannabe-musician who works in insurance, I wake up on a Monday in April, feeling very sick with a line of dried drool winding from my mouth to my jaw.

I want to publish something again. Soon. It should be a short story. I'd love to have it be an action piece with gratuitous violence. How often do I write those? Never.

  -If every/almost ever y time you make a smart decision for yourself, your very insecure boyfriend/girlfriend/just friend is upset, going on and on about you being selfish. Every time. -You find that they’re carefully editing stories they tell about social interactions they’ve had when you weren’t around, playing underdog or hero in each one.

So I looked up my first name in the image s ection of a search engine, thinking  that since, in the past, I found cute-s y graphics reminding me of the laughable fact that my first name is derived from a Gaelic term for "wise one". I was inspired by an older post by  the Bloggess (to which I've left a link below) about her adventures looking up the names "Jenny"  and  her blog name, so I thought  maybe this time I'd get a fun screen grab or two with the name 'Shannon' on it, like a s till of Jason in his hockey mask, weapon read y, sa ying, "Wha tayou mean,  you're ou t of peas?" or something,  but no. No. I got the smiling faces of a bunch of professional-looking pretty strangers,including some insanely ripped, skinny women, one wearing two gold medals, and one of these:   This treasure is from David  Thorne, much to my relief af ter clicking on it and seeing the words " Shannon the Human Snake.   www.27bslash6.com  -  Due ...

          It sucks that with love comes loss, but that's unavoidable, I think. When I ge t emotional about the December 20th passing of one of my loved ones, I repeat to m yself a mantra that I've been very lucky to know him, to be influenced by him. He was   is  was a wonderful person who, along wi th his wife and son, permeated my outlook on family and community and milking the wonderful, simple momen ts out of life.