Birthday

Thin blood, tough skin

Husband’s birthday was Sunday and we went to see “Boyhood.” Beautiful film. When we were leaving, my jaw felt strange. We went to Red Robin to meet Stepson and his Girlfriend for dinner. Girlfriend told the waitress about the birthday so the staff came over and sang to Husband. He was not happy, but everyone else thought it was funny.

My jaw felt worse and I started a fever—you know, the usual toothache fun. The dental service we have to use—with its claim that it has 24/7 emergency appointments—couldn’t see me until Thursday, or Saturday, so I called my old dentist.

Michael Ehlers, at Western New York Dental, is the absolute best. He got me in the next morning, took an x-ray, gave me a prescription for antibiotics AND didn’t charge me full price or for an emergency visit. How awesome is that? He suspects the same thing I do–that a piece of something bothered the gum line and it got infected, but with the brushing, flossing, and aspirin popping I was doing, the infection was going away on its own. If I hadn’t bothered to make an appointment, it would have been an abscessed tooth and I would have died from blood poisoning—that’s just the way things go.

I’m much better now.

During the waiting room stretch, I read most of Roxane Gay’s “Bad Feminist.” It’s a fantastic book. I told her on Twitter then took it down because I’m a wuss. I put a short review on Goodreads (must everything you do on there go directly to Facebook? I don’t like that—if you know how to stop that nonsense, let me know.)

Speaking of things I don’t like–I have Microsoft Word and somehow I saved a file, which now comes up instead of a blank page when I open the program. Any other computer in the world would let me clear it and “Save as Template” or some such. Not this one. If you know the secret on how to restore the default, please email me at TLSherwood01@gmail.com It’s starting to tick me off.

I hate asking, as I try to be as self-sufficient as possible, but that’s just a messed up image in my head that isn’t remotely true. I do need people. I guess that’s not the worst thing in the world.

September is coming up with the grand opening of the University Publications. I’m already tired and I haven’t written a cover letter. This summer I wrote a few good new pieces during the lulls of the novel rewriting process; we’ll see how those do. I could write more in this post, but I’m working on line edits and I should get my plan of attack ready for the submission season and toughen my skin for rejections. Well, that’s easier said than done with aspirin thinned blood and antibiotics ricocheting through me, isn’t it? Luckily, it could be much worse and I’m glad it is not.

 

~And there you have my Creekside Reflections. Your observations may vary.

It’s My Birthday

I’m sure it’s a matter of paying attention more than anything, but when I have a certain book on my bedside table and flip through it before I go to sleep, the oddest coincidences occur. It’s called “There are No Accidents.” I’m still not convinced.

Anyway, I’m older. Yeah me for not dying in the last 364 days.

The weather was finally decent and I took a walk to the creek. Surprise! The idiot neighbor placed a branch in the middle of the path. *Sigh* If you happen to know this moron, could you please point out to him that it’s easier for me to walk over there and move his phallic symbol twice a day than it is for him to go up and down the hill? I’m really sorry his brain, penis, and prestige at work are all so tiny, but really, enough. I mean if there was a point to it, okay, but there’s not. All it does it irritate me and he needn’t bother. I have relatives for that. (I’m kidding. Most of them are decent human beings. One or two of them though, I’d like to run DNA tests on before condemning a whole alien species based on the behavior of just a few imbeciles.)

Otherwise, I may be going to the Buffalo Small Press Book Fair with Mary Jo on Saturday. Details are being worked out. I hope she’s feeling well enough to do her reading.

I’m still at work on “The Life &.”  My MC was going to start a fight and I didn’t want to her to, so I punished her by not writing very much for a few days. It’s strange–this writing gig. I love FB and Twitter, Zoetrope and the other sites I’ve been on in the past. If I had these characters in my head and thought I was the only one who knew them to be as real as real people, I’d commit myself.

I have queries sent to three agents. I know, I should get more out, but I’m still dealing with an April Fool’s joke or a missed rejection. I sent two stories to a magazine in January. Only one has been rejected so far. *Sigh* I’d love to think I have a shot, but it’s such a very long shot…

The three types of peppers I planted have come up. I expect to see the tomatoes any day. Spring is a lovely time of year.

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Anyway, if you wished me well on Facebook, I do appreciate the gesture. Sorry I’m not all happy happy joy joy about surviving this year. I took some big hits emotionally. I’m sure you’re sick of my remembrances of the dead and/or dying so I won’t do a recap. Really, that’s what I’m thinking about today. It doesn’t get any better than this does it? First world white girl problems. Yeah!

Thank you for stopping by and reading!

(*These are just my creek side reflections. Your experiences may vary.)

My Birthday: The Day After

In the picture, you’ll notice there are 5 flowers. You may not realize that I ruined Husband’s joke by being nice to him when he gave them to me.

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(Aren’t they gorgeous? And they smell wonderful, too.)

You see, he once bought me two roses. *Sigh* I explained to him, then had Chyo reiterate that, no, two flowers aren’t acceptable. One is. Three are. Five, six, seven, that’s all good, but TWO? No. He asked about four. I said, no…

Well, lately he’s been working with “Norm” and I know that’s stressful, so when he came home with four flowers, I had it in my head that four was fine. He made me read his card, and there was a cute little explanation. Also fine, except it wasn’t.

Husband wanted me to be upset and remind him that “four” wasn’t an acceptable number so he could say, “Fine, I’ll go back and get another flower.”

And he was going to storm off and get in the truck…and bring in the fifth flower he had already bought and had had wrapped up separately to me.

(I know, “Aw!” Right?)

(And yes, I do feel a little icky for complaining about him in my last blog post)

My birthday was filled with awesome phone calls, emails, and FB posts. One of my best friends brought over pizza and wings for dinner so I didn’t have to cook or dress to go out, and I didn’t get a rejection so yeah, it was a very good day.

(These are just my Creekside Reflections. Your experiences may very)

Could It be the Weather

Welcome to my first blog after another birthday. If you wished me a happy one on Facebook, I appreciate it and thank you. It was really fun to get that many good wishes. The day before, my award certificate for the Mary Kennedy Eastham Flash Fiction Competition Arrived:

What a great early gift!

Husband brought me a lovely rose which Cat decided was hers:

She can have the flower as long as we’re allowed to live in her house. Territorial? Cat? Nah…

Then there was a tussle over the ribbon:

And there you have it, my birthday.

I’ve been in a funk, but I’m pushing through it. It might be considered a birthday funk though it’s been going on longer than that. *Sigh* Life sometimes, aye?  Maybe the many submissions I sent out on the 31st will be responded to with acceptance. I still have hope. A little bit, though nothing has happened yet. I have had 14 submissions on Submittable with 7 marked as ‘In Progress’ for days now. I’m beginning to think my page is broken.

So, back to the writing…and obsessive checking.

Until next time!

*These are just my creekside reflections. Your experiences may vary.