Ophidiophobia -- E-I-E-I-O

UPDATE for  5/20: go to bottom to read:

So I was out mowing the lawn -- and it is a fantabulous beautiful day out and the sky is blue and the trees are bursting in joy and I was rounding the corner of the greenhouse and was happily assaulted by the dual fragrances of a crabapple tree in bloom and a lilac, when all of a sudden, there slithering in the grass.

Was. A. Snake.

Whooosh (gotta lotta whooshing going on, don't I?) I was suddenly and inexplicably filled with the most incredible fear and I started yelling.  YELLING out loud, freaking out ... unable to think clearly because I was SURE, POSITIVE the thing was climbing up the lawn mower to get me.

You would have thought it was an anaconda for all the carrying on I was doing.  The dogs were at attention ... what was going on?  I was screaming bloody murder over the sound of the lawnmower and I couldn't get away from the spot fast enough nor could I even figure out how to get off the lawnmower fast enough, because don't you understand, I associated the lawn mower with the snake and I had to disentangle myself from the entire mess and get in the house.

PRONTO.

It was a brown snake, not very big ... but it was all slithering and moving and OHMYGOD I can't stand snakes, I am not afraid of much, but snakes ... OHMYGOD ... and here's the thing, I think my fear is getting worse!  Because normally I see a snake and move on.  This time I was completely consumed (WHOOSH I TELL YA) by the clear knowledge that the snake was going to get me.

A little over the top?  Oh, yes.

The fear of snakes is referred to as ophidiophobia -- and here are the symptoms:

dry mouth (gosh I need a drink)

fear of death (ABSOLUTELY, not even sure the house is safe)

Having severe anxiety attacks (is that what that was?)

Breathlessness (well I am still breathing ...)

Feeling of sickness (entire body tingling with disgust?)

Experiencing a sense of extrication (does that also mean GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE?)

Nauseau (well for heaven's sake, we don't have to go overboard)

Losing mental balance (that implies there was a balance to begin with)

Excessive sweating (well no, that's gross)

Not being able to speak or think properly (Again, implies that was there to begin with)

Fast and irregular palpitation of the heart.  (PADDLES, STAT)

Is there a cure?

Hell yes.

You stay inside.  On a ladder.

Update:  I killed the snake.  Charlie went out there this morning and found it completely sliced in half with the head chopped off.  I couldn't actually go out and see it, so he took pictures of it.  I feel awful.  I am a snake murderer.

The power of anger

Charlie's 8th grade class is going to Washington D.C. this week, and he chose not to go.  It is a lot of time spent on a bus, and somehow he got it into his head that it wouldn't be fun (how could it not be fun?) and so, he really has no reason to be in school this week.

So I was trying to come up with something fun and yet somewhat educational to do with him.  I have been going back and forth, forth and back about putting in a vegetable garden.  The main problem is that I absolutely HATE to garden.  With a passion.  And yet, the thought of fresh vegetables straight out of the earth has such an appeal to me, it almost outweighs the part where you know, I hate it.

I was mowing the lawn the other day and there is this patch by the garage that grows like mad.  It always has, and I thought to myself that THAT would be the spot -- it is close to the hose that draws off the dug well, it gets tons of sun and yet it is protected by the wind from the house, and clearly things like to grow there.  So I've been mulling the idea back and forth, and then Charlie had a school project recently where he had to "live simply" for a day, based on stuff he had read by Thoreau, and I thought, we just out to go out there with shovels and dig until we can't dig anymore, and then plant what we can.  Forget about plotting it out (I hate that stuff too) blah blah blah, just dig a patch of earth and put in, well, maybe I'll go buy a lot of plants already started.  CHEATER!

So?

So I began to draw Charlie into the idea, and said that I wanted lettuce, tomatoes, cukes, peas and squash, what did he want?  He said he didn't like any of those, what else was there?  Geesh.  Fine, he can be a laborer, not an eater.  So he kept asking me skeptically if I too was going to turn up the earth, and I said Yes!  I am.

So Peter came home and Charlie made reference to the fact that he wasn't going to go to school, but that we were going to put in a garden. And Peter made a face and said "a vegetable garden?" And I said yes, and he then went on about how I never did anything with the little garden that I put in on the patio year after year (well, I went out and picked the stuff and ate it, what more was I to do?) But apparently, I had not proven myself worthy of something or other.

And then I got Mad.  No, I got furious.  That deep, seething anger that whooshes through you and you want to scream and yell and hurt people kind of mad.

Oh, I'm sorry, I felt like saying, I forgot how pathetic and stupid I was, thank you for reminding me of all of my shortcomings. 

And then he asked me what was for dinner, as I was winding up to break things.

So I came here instead, and this is the nice version of how I feel.

Fame, what is it really?

Thank heavens for Oprah, because without her shows I am not sure I would have any inspiration!  (Just kidding, but for all the ways the woman drives me nuts, her shows do make me think.)

So, she had Simon Cowell on and the show was about all the talent shows there are around the world, and there was an exclusive interview with Susan Boyle as well.  First, let me discuss Simon.  I've never really felt one way or another about him, but he is totally in love with fame and fortune.  He was downright drooling in the presence of Oprah.  I think he's a guy who feels he's made a decent success of himself, but when he sees Oprah, he sees what he wants in himself.  He was flirting with her, which I think is his main weapon in regards to women, winking when he thought the camera was elsewhere, making sexual comments and I must say, throwing her off just a bit.  (Just a bit, because she IS Oprah after all!)  Simon Cowell wants to be Oprah.

Interesting.

So, Simon normally chooses good looking women (admittedly so, with the most unabashed of smiles says he) to mentor and turn into big stars.  So the Susan Boyle "thing" is a bit of a departure from his normal MO, but when he saw the attention she got ...

She is still in the running for the British version of his show, but whether she wins or not is meaningless:  Simon isn't letting her get too far from him.  He owns her now.  Does she know this?

I think not.

So as I watched all of these acts perform on the Oprah show, I began to wonder, before all of these talent-seeking shows, what happened to these people?  Why are we given certain talents in the first place?  It seems hard to believe that we are blessed with certain gifts only to use them to get famous on stupid tv shows.  And yet, with someone like Susan Boyle, who had a difficult time in school and has potentially never been kissed at the age of 47, isn't it better than living out her days in the same apartment she was born in, in a small town in Scotland?

I don't know.

Is she prepared to deal with the likes of Simon Cowell, who is going to flirt with her in order to jumble her brain cells so that she will sign a deal that delegates a good portion of her earnings to him?

I think not.

But none of these people are that savvy, which is why I am wondering if it's going to be okay.  The girl who was most recently kicked off American Idol, Allison something, was on the Ellen show, and her body language was all typical teenager stuff.  She is totally and completely uncomfortable in her own skin, and Simon saw that and kept telling her that she needed to have more personality.

Well, personality doesn't grow on trees, and her habit of shrugging non-stop is endearing the first time, and the first time only.  Then it is just irritating.  She's out of her league, no matter what her singing voice sounds like.  It's not just about singing or performing.  It's about a whole lot more than that, and if there wasn't a venue like these shows, kids like Allison would shine in their school plays with their fabulous voices and maybe sing at a wedding or two, but that would be that.  And maybe that is how it should be.

And who am I to say that someone is totally out of their league?  I have no right, but these are people who have placed themselves in the spotlight, and at times that light can be harsh.

As Ellen said to her, "your life is going to be very big from now on."

Is that good?  What about being a teenager and growing up ... isn't that such a big part of life that it shouldn't be ignored?

I don't know.

I guess it is how you define success.  There is certainly no reason to think that taking one's talent and creating an avenue where you can make a living utilizing it is bad.  In fact, I think that is partly what life is all about.

What I am questioning here is the process:  It is artificial.  The basis for all of it is money (and as we all know, is the root of all evil.)

And the fact of the matter is, I DO believe that, completely.

I fear for people like Susan Boyle ending up in the hands of people like Simon Cowell, for the way he truly feels about her is the way he looked at her when she first came out on stage: oh give me a break, you are an ugly dowager from nowhere, why are you wasting my time?

And then she sang.  And it all became quite clear to him.  She was ultimately priceless.

Because if I truly believed that he believed that you can't judge a book by its cover, then I wouldn't even be writing this.  But I don't.  He's the guy who wants to be Oprah.  He just wants. And if he wants you, it means you represent some value to him.  And so it is with all of the talented individuals who are "making it."

Will they ever know what it feels like to be wanted and loved and truly adored for their inner soul?

What is the price of fame?

 

I've got a beautiful feeling ...

Maddie's dinner dance, or whatever they call it.  Her first dress since she was ... a kid?

Goofing around.

!

Maddie and Steph.

Big storm comes upon the group waiting to board busses:

Hurry, the bus is leaving without us.

Oh what a beautiful day

With a beautiful day stretching ahead, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what was the perfect thing to do.  I was going to climb a mountain, but then my sister mentioned the beach.

The beach!  Perfect!  I thought it over, and within seconds determined that it would be lovely to jump into the Jeep and head to the seacoast.

So I did.  I picked up Tomasen and off we went, with the sun pouring down on us we joined a modest group of others who were drawn to the lure of the sea.  We walked for about an hour, then made a peace sign out of rocks, chased the piping plovers ...

 

and then went out to lunch.  But let's discuss these silly birds.  They are really quite comical.  They have these funny legs that look disjointed when they rush, because they always seem to be in a rush, and you have to keep an eye on them because they blend right into the environment, and poof, they are gone.  In this picture it is actually running by me very quickly, so it is amazing it came out as clear as it did.  I love beach pictures and seem to have a thing going for the birds.

So then we drove along the coast and found a restaurant that was serving out on their deck, right on the water.

Perfect!  The sun was still shining, and just as we asked for our check, a big cloud came along it it started to get chilly.  Great timing.

We then went to a restaurant supply store so I could get a spring-form pan, but on the way there rain drops were falling on our head, so we drove under this roof and put up the top.  And it poured.  And then the sun came out again.

Oh well.  I drove back to Concord, where Charlie had a game, and have concluded that driving in a Jeep with the back windows out is TOO NOISY.  I couldn't hear myself scream it was so loud.  The sun was out in full force and all the rain clouds were gone, so Charlie and I drove home with the top down.

Perfect day.

But you should see my hair :P

yikes.

Oh what a beautiful morning

Writer dies of head explosion

So I had something happen today that's never happened before: dueling book characters are wrestling for brain space in my head.

How did this happen?

When I am working on a book, the characters become part of my daily life, and I am going over lines of dialogue or situations  constantly in my head.  I don't even notice it after awhile, because I am so used to it, and I would say the only people who are affected by it are my kids.  For all of a sudden I will realize that they have been talking to me and I am so deep into my head I don't notice.  Until they yell at me.

And accuse me of not listening.  Which is totally true, but still.  I am busy.  The thing about your head being busy is that you look like a dork otherwise -- just sitting there staring off into space.

Anyway.  For weeks now these particular characters have taken up full-time residence in planet brain, and things have been going along quite well.  But I "organized" my computer, offloaded a slew of pictures and tidied up my writing files, and well, now I can't find a damn thing.  It's a little irritating, but normally whatever I am working on takes up residence on the desktop.  But for some unbeknownst reason I hit the "organize desktop" button, and now I have no idea where anything is.  Oh. And because I took off all my pictures, the screen saver picture was in that, and so I had to change it to something that still happened to be left on.  It's been a bit of a fiasco.

The current screen saver is an ocean picture, so I can't really read any of the files sitting on the desktop.  Yes, I should change it, but who cares, whatever ... so today I had one of those brain freeze things and couldn't remember the name of the book I am working on.

That might sound odd, but I have working titles, permanent titles, and I have a few books that I am working on that don't even have titles.  But I only always work on ONE book at a time, and like I said, I can usually find it.

I was forced to go to the writing folder and scan through it for something to jog my memory.  By then I had of course remembered the file name, but I was amazed at how many other folders were in the writing folder.  Hmmmm.  So I started to look at them.  All little morsels and tidbits of story ideas.  Then I came across one called Gates and Gallagher.

Interesting name, I thought.  Like it.  Opened it.  LOVED IT!  Wanted more.  Let me just say this, there is nothing worse than getting into a book and then coming to the end and to the realization that the ONLY way you can ever read the rest is to write it.

Such a drag.  And probably not a common problem, but for me, it actually is.  

Anyway, the characters grabbed me and I suddenly felt a little overwhelmed.  Because the other characters were already in my head, and they weren't moving aside.

I couldn't work, so I put together a shopping list and headed south.  And it was so crowded in the car.  First off Margie wanted to bat it out with Walter, but then all of a sudden Jenny popped into my head and I started to visualize her, and then Walter yelled that he wanted more of his journal entries written -- that it was the best way to flesh out his character and prove that he was far deeper than I was portraying him ... then Gary Livingston joined the party and said that like Walter, he was misunderstood in the story.  The problem was, Gary and Walter are NOT in the same story.

What the hell!

I actually feel tired today.  And with a bit of a headache.  I never feel or have either, ever.  These characters are getting mighty damn pushy and I blame my bout of organization on the whole thing.  The whole mess!  The whole riot in my head that is wreaking havoc upon all of Lisakind.

You can't make this stuff up either.  (Even if you are a writer!)