It wasn't just the power steering, as I had thought. A couple of other things went wrong at the same time. (The brakeline, the engine mounts.)

So, all kidding aside, this would be a great time to renew your "subscription" to LMA; all the funds I'd allotted to the CPAC convention in February are pretty much gone, and I'll be fundraising for that trip from scratch.

Christmas will be simple this year: everyone will get chocolate-chip cookies, and a hearty handshake . . .

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:37 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 92 words, total size 1 kb.

I sent a note to Dr. Prime:

When last we spoke, a year and a half ago, you were really getting into weed, chocolate, and eating pussy. How go all of the above?

Excellent. They always deliver. Although things are a bit slow in the pussy department right now. My girlfriend is in another state, and my wife has this whole "we're separated now" philosophy which has definitely cut down on availability.

And how are your kids and wife? And girlfriend?

Everyone's good. My out-of-state daughter is a kickass kid (she's 5 1/2 now) and I'm going to visit in a few weeks. My girlfriend is my best friend, and she also has really big breasts, so it works out great.

He still hasn't sent me the manuscript for his book, yet. I suppose I could simply "borrow" it from my friends' houses . . .

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:00 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 164 words, total size 1 kb.

"Right—the one about protagonists, and gray hair."

At writers' group they are discussing the fact that some novelists are creating more story lines that feature heroes and heroines over 50.

"Because most readers are over 50 now. Isn't that sad?"

"That's so sad."

"Um." I find myself speaking again, something I try not to do at writers' group when I'm not actually reading my work. "How is this sad? People are living longer. We're not dying as young. Why does this depress you?"

"Because," one of them explains, "it means that young people don't really read any more."

"Um, no. It means that there aren't as many of them in this country as there are middle-aged folks."

They look at me, and I realize that they are completely unaware of the broader demographic trends that underlie the statistics they're quoting. And, once more, I shut up and let them play "ain't it awful." But it's boring.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:41 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 166 words, total size 1 kb.

Another installment from The Codependency Chronicles:

When I left my mother's house yesterday I'd hauled most of the recycleables out to the bin, but left a small pile of them there. With the mom urging me to take off and avoid the rush-hour traffic (it was too late anyway, it turns out), I extracted a promise that she'd do it herself, pronto.

After all, the last thing either of us wanted was to have Mandy tear all the plastic, cardboard and whatnot into itty-bitty pieces and strew them all over the place—necessitating yet one more round of picking up the debris by hand, and then running the vacuum.

And yet, that's exactly what had happened when I got there this afternoon. The dog had also opened an entire bag of potting soil onto the living room carpet, and spread it around. Furthermore, it was a hot day: the place smelled like mouse piss.

(A couple of months ago my mother informed me that there was a mouse in her house. Though was a biology major, and had studied genetics at the graduate level at UCLA, she apparently failed to anticipate what happens when there is a little rodent around, and it manages to find even one friend. And, no: when I showed up with traps a few months ago, she wouldn't allow me to set one of them for her, and come back later for the little mousie corpse. She was going to do it herself. So now I'm doing it, but I need to set many. Unless Cougar Boy takes care of it tomorrow, and gets to rediscover that when mom gets tense, 90% of what one does is wrong. And not just a little bit wrong. Desperately, irrevocably, irretrievably wrong!)

I wasn't particularly happy to see my accomplishments of the previous two days undone, but I got to work cleaning, dusting, straightening, and hauling things around. A few times I asked my mother to get me a beer—which didn't seem unreasonable, in all that heat. (No, I didn't want to turn on the AC. I was trying to air the place out. Did I specify that I'm crazy and codependent?)

But of course the trick with clutterers is that one cannot either (1) touch their things, or (2) ask them to make a decision about the disposition of any of their possessions.

At one point she saw me picking up the second half of a broken chair and taking it toward the garage. "What in the name of God are you doing?" she shrieked.

Ah, my mother. The woman I grew up with, in those bracing pre-Prozac days. How nice to have her back. Really: just like being a teenager again. Without the acne.

"Well," I responded, "due to the fact that it's broken, I was going to take it to the garage. But I won't do that if you want it here in your breakfast nook."

"I want it here," she told me.

"Sure thing. Do you just want this part, or do you want the broken-off seat?"

"I want both parts of it here."

Personally, I think she was confusing me with the dog again, and had just read somewhere about the importance of establishing that one is the "alpha."

A few minutes later I cornered her in the kitchen. "You know," I explained, "I understand that I'm not allowed to throw things away without permission. But not being able to put broken things in the garage without permission is quite a handicap."

"Listen," she replied. "I don't want to discuss this kind of thing with you unless you can get to a better mental place."

I"m working on that right now, eight hours later. The better mental place thing. I took double the normal dosage of Ambien, because the mental place I want to be is unconsciousness. With any luck I'll soon slip away to a happy land in which everyone can be an orphan, with a little hard work and determination . . .

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:51 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 678 words, total size 4 kb.