::Aeronaughties
It’s the scene in every movie: the linchpin of the villain’s plan falls into your hands. You finally know what to do. You have to overcome your fears. You lurch upward, clutching your free hand to whatever cinematic wound ails you. You take that first step. The music swells melodramatically. That second step. You shoulder through a wall. Toss a burning beam aside. Start to run. Thunder comes with you.
And then all hell breaks loose. The bomb is counting down and TIE fighters are swarming in and that shield’s still up and the hostages are being tortured and the tornado is coming and… yeah.
This week has been like that.
So I told her I wasn’t sure about Florida. This was because I discovered inborn daddy-instinct that I was not aware had grown in there. Haven’t been away from the boy longer than overnight since he was born. Was insecure about leaving him in the care of mom-in-law.
The two of them were very persuasive about it, each in her own way. I relented. The line for pats on the back begins over there.
There was some rigamarole with getting the ticket switched over. Tears and some cash fixed it.
Then a couple of days ago I got a truly horrendous fever. The kind where you stay in bed for 16 hours straight, moaning when she turns the light on. Hooray for modern science, I’m alive. On the other hand, I managed to cough in just such a special way that I tore one of my abdominal muscles. No shit, TORE. Felt that fucker pop while I was in the shower, and it darned near put me on the ground. So, there’s my cinematic wound. Because I don’t feel sick anymore – I just move like an old man. Ow, ow, ow, OW.
And in the morning we are going to haul balls to the airport, just ahead of the cinematic forest fire / ticking bomb / Death Star explosion / pack of zombies: a huge snowstorm is on the way in the AM tomorrow, and I think we’re going to fly out Just In Time before the airport closes. Somewhere, Murphy will be shaking his fist in impotent rage as our jet hurls us skyward.
Did I mention I found my first legit shock of white hair this morning? Ugh. Let me plant my roots beachside for a couple of days and see if this, too, passes.
You know, I had a white hair once? And then it fell out of it’s own accord and Never Again. True story!
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Feel better and HAVE FUN! *
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Oh, I am SO glad you’re going. For a second there, I thought the zombie-tornado-timebomb was going to get you. And hey, maybe some warm beach-time will be just the thing to cure you.
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Ouch? Hope you make it out ok, I’m sure your baby will be fine! But I’m also sure that feeling is something you only know if you have babies. And if it helps, my boyfriend is 32 and has many grey hairs. I barely even notice them. It happens. Whatever.
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I’m proud of my silver hairs… I think they give me distinction. *nods* Hope you’re at least taking some naproxen for that muscle. Ouch. *cringes* Hope you heal up enough to actually ENJOY your trip. Rest, relax, and have a great time. 🙂
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Glad that you’re feeling better. Fevers suck. And I hope you have fun on your vacation.
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White hair is amazing, I don’t understand why people fear it. It may be a sign of aging, but it’s not the Herald of Incontinence or anything. But I could be wrong. I just like it, I guess. Anyway, best of luck on your vacation. I hope it helps speed you to health and well-being in the manner that you wish. I’m crossing my fingers and toes for you!
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I hope you’re feeling better by now. Have a safe trip.
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If I could dye my hair red while not changing the silvers as well, I would. Enjoy your trip.
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Your description of a cinematic free-for-all as applied to life made me laugh. So, so true.
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Well, at least you know that you win in the end. That’s something, right? I have an eye-squinty feeling there’s a sequel, though. So your reprieve lasts as long as it takes to cast and film a movie. (Who do you want as you?)
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RYN: Season 1!!! 😀 *
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I didn’t know that Amazon had acquired Goodreads. I’m with you…that scares me a bit. One of the things I appreciated about Goodreads was that a lot of people took it seriously and tried to help others. Amazon, for me, has always been more of a place for sell-sell-sell and you never know if the reviews are genuine or if they are written by the author’s publicist, agent, publisher, mother, auntand childhood babysitter who say good things to help the writer sell books. That sucks.
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