Thursday, November 03, 2005

What happens when you tell a duck a joke?

He quacks up. (courtesy of Jack)

Where the hell have I been? I thought it had only been a couple of days since my last post but alas, my sense of time has always been a little wonky.

Today was the Free First Thursday for some of the Seattle museums so Jack and I braved the rain to go to the Burke Museum (It's small, i.e. saw everything in about 1/2 hour small.) and then the Museum of Flight which we found more entertaining.

It was a dark and stormy day so we took a raincheck to see the planes on the tarmac, but it would be worth a return trip.
I definitely see the appeal of flying. We're near Lake Union so on nice days float planes buzz over pretty frequently. I'd like to learn to fly someday- and what a place to do it! A bird's eye view of the mountains and sound would be incredible.

Speaking of aspirations... You Can Do It! The Merit Badge Handbook for Grown-Up Girls is a good read. It's got practical applications and advice for those secret things we pine to be (singer, rabblerouser, barnstormer...) It's cooler and less self-help than it sounds.

We're going to see Dan Zanes on Saturday and I'm excited. We're all excited. We're geeky like that.
I'm feeling nice and lighthearted right now. I was in dark hermit mode for a while and it's lifting.... mostly. I'd had some more skin surgery on my face and and it took longer to heal this time. I was feeling like I looked a lot better a couple of days ago when I saw a friend I hadn't seen for a while and the first thing she said was, "My God! Did you get in a car accident?" I guess the cuts weren't quite as healed as I thought. : I've had 100+ stitches 20-40 at a time on my face in the last couple of months so I was starting to get used to to the whole Frankenmama thing. I should be done with the major stuff for a while, so I can laugh about it. ha ha! Take that, tumor!

I never know what to say. If I say I have skin cancer people look so striken and then I have to babble about how I'm not dying and it's not one of those cancers blah blah blah. Then people freak out and say something random like, "My Uncle Bernie had testicular cancer." Alright. I tried to be vague and just say I had a "skin thing" but Sam says that sounds too "contagious and spooky." Soon the pink lines will go away and then I don't have to say anything at all.

I have a new story rattling around in my head that just keeps.... sitting there. No amount of procrastination or self doubt seems to be sending it to the land of forgotten prose at the back of my brain so I think it might be good, or at least draft-worthy.

I'm off to stain some pulp and write the old-fashioned way.


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