Random Thoughts From the Nerd

I want to know what dogs are thinking, but not smelling. I don’t want to have to work that hard or experience that much.

Cats are impossible to read. They need an interpreter – perhaps a chinchilla?

I really don’t want to know how swine flu went from swine to human. Or for that matter, how ebola went from monkey to human. Regardless, someone was acting inappropriately in both situations.

Is it possible to freeze electricity?

There HAS to be a speed of dark. I just feel it. I’d be shocked if there weren’t.

Nothing smells better in a house than a batch of snickerdoodles fresh from the oven.

Any word that has “oodle” in it is fun to say.

The best punctuation mark in the world? The umlaut. Not just fun to use, but fun to say. Try it, you’ll agree.

Ask the Amish if they use hybrids. They’ll probably say, “Yes, I own a mule.” Great tie in with biology.

If Edgar Allan Poe were alive today, I would want to be his Facebook friend. Only.

People who think the world cares about them, but we really don’t:

• Heidi and Spencer Pratt
• Jon Gosselin
• Paris Hilton
• Tila Tequila
• Balloon boy dad

People who will some day get their asses kicked by an assorted group of fed-up middle class and lower class folks:

• Same folks

If we can put a man on the moon, why can’t anyone create chocolate covered potato chips? Two PMS problems solved at once.

Conversations with My Muse: Getting My Ego Crushed

Hey there! Long time, no see!

Hi….Hang on a sec...N-A-I-F– that works.

Excuse me?

What, you’ve never heard of that word?

Um, noooo…

What kind of language arts teacher are you?

Apparently, not much of one.

Now, you know that isn’t true!

Well, you’d think I’d have a pretty expansive vocabulary, being a lover of words and all…

You do claim you’re the “word nerd”.

I am very proud of that title, chickie.

I don’t doubt that. And I’m not making fun of you.

Then what’s going on here?

I’m just playing a little Scrabble on my IPhone.

IPhone? You have an IPhone now? Lemme guess — the rich oil baron from Texas?

Yes. I told you I wanted one. I’ve had this one for a month or so. Now I can have all my social networking sites in one set place. I’ll never have to carry a laptop with me again.

Well aren’t you “special”?

Provisional.

Huh?

Another word for special. Do I need to dumb this down for you?

You’re in a bit of a mood.

Ya think?

How come?

I got my ass handed to me on a platter last night.

Oh my! Where did you hear that expression?

Just a little something I overheard during the last OSU versus Purdue game.

Ah. What happened?

Well, I thought it would be nice to play a game of Scrabble with an old friend.

Who was the friend?

I call him “Billy”. He prefers “William”.

Uh oh, I don’t like where this is going…William? William who?

Shakespeare.

Holy CRAP! You sat down to play a word game with William Shakespeare?

Yea, so?

Wow. Very presumptuous of you, don’t you think?

Not getting it here.

Meds wearing off?

Little bit.

Figured. Only that you decided to play a WORD game with a WORD SMITH.

I don’t have any friends named “Smith”.

Geez, pay attention! You really need to study up on your history.

I AM history. I’m an ancient Greek —

I KNOW who you are. What I can’t figure out is why you’d want to challenge the one person in the history of mankind who was personally responsible for introducing more than one THOUSAND words into the English language AND invented the compound word.

He did all that?

Uh, no duh, muse.

Wow. I did not know that. He just seems like a great guy to be around. He “gets” me. I “get” him. No pretense, no boundaries.

Fascinating.

What’s that?

My muse had no idea about —

HEY– I told you before I don’t know everybody. I have only worked for a select few million…

Yea, but..

But what? You expect me to have this big dossier on all these famous people throughout history.

Well, ya since you’re the muse of poetry and song I would expect that to be part of your background research.

You’re wrong. I don’t have the time, energy or patience to run a background check on every one of my employers.

Maybe you should. There sure seems to be a lot of people writing stuff that is total crap.

Now with that I agree. See, isn’t it amazing how we can put our competitive differences aside and just enjoy each other’s company?

Who you calling competitive?

You — you don’t like to lose games often, do you?

Not word ones.

Thought so.

Hey, if we’re wrapping this up, then I want you to clean up your Scrabble mess before you leave.

What mess?

The tiles spilled all over the floor when I sat down on top of them.

Ouch.

Yea, and now I can’t seem to find the Q.

I’m not going there.

No, no you’re not.

Conversations with My Muse: The Sandman Waketh

Dude, get up.

Nnnnnnnnnh…

I said, get up!

Wha? Huh? Whose zat?

Me. I said wake up.

Go away.

No, not until we talk.

What the fu–

Don’t speak to me that way, now get up or I’m gonna give you a wedgie.

Friggen leave me alone, dammit!

NO. I want an explanation now.

Bitch, can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here? WHAT THE FU-

That’s it, I’m grabbin..

Ow! Jezzus, what the hell is wrong with you?

Good, you’re awake.

Well now I am!!!

We need to talk about last night.

What about it? Ooooooh, my friggen head. I think I’m gonna hurl.

The bathroom’s over there. Go do what you gotta do and then come back. We’re gonna talk about that dream I had last night.

Dream you had? Sheeee it, that’s what this is about?

Yes, now go.

Little demanding there. Can you at least give me a couple minutes here? I gotta —

What?

I can’t stand up yet-

Why not? Ohhhhhh…

Yea, smart ass. Ohhh.

Sorry, I’m a chick. Nothing on me wakes up twenty minutes before I do. I’ll turn away until you’re, ahem, ALL awake and good to go.

You can at least offer to make me a cup of coffee while we’re waiting.

Sure, but let me tell you it’s early afternoon.

So? My shift starts at midnight.

Ah, that’s right…you have the night shift. Which is exactly why we need to talk.

I’m not getting into this without my afternoon piss and a cup of coffee.

Fine then – I’ll be back with two cups. I give you two minutes, make it quick.

Two minutes? I can’t whiz that fast.

That’s gross, just go already — sheesh!

Whatever…

Watch the attitude.

You’re a pain in the ass, ya know that?

Hey, I’m not the one with the raging hangover.

You try coming up with millions of ideas for dreams every night, night after night. Then you can come bitching to me about how much I drink. It’s not easy being me, ya know.

Oh, quit your whining. Geez, you can be such a girly man at times.

Excuse me?

You heard me. You have no idea what it’s like to be female.

Uh, yea, I do. I rummage around inside many females’ heads on a regular basis. And let me tell you, what I see is scary shit sometimes.

Like what?

You fantasize too often. Sorry, but Erik Estrada? How gay is that?

Me dreaming about Erik Estrada is gay? How do you figure that?

That guy was so..I dunno, 70s?

Ya, so what? At least I’m not fantasizing about Courtney Thorne Smith.

Hmmmm…..Courtney..

Hey, that’s hubby’s fantasy, not mine. Stick with the program here.

Whatever. So, I’m up now. What’s the big deal about last night?

Well, you threw me in a garbage truck. I’m curious to know what made you decide to do that.

I did that?

Yes, I was thrown into a garbage truck and covered in a whole bunch of disgusting crap. Then, I had to sit there and listen to the thing start compacting on me. It was scary, I started freaking out.

Wow, that’s nasty.

No kidding! I could even feel my head compressing. I feel things in my dreams, you know.

You do? Like what?

Oh, everything. Some people only dream in black and white. Many don’t even remember their dreams. I, on the other hand, remember everything. I also taste, see, touch, smell and feel in my dreams.

That’s cool.

No, not all the time. Imagine being able to feel the concussion of being shot. Think that’s “cool”?

Well, no.

Exactly. But that’s what happens to me when I dream. Everything is 100% vivid.

Hmm….

What? You actually sounded coherent there for a moment.

Well, I do have a theory about your dreams, now that I’m a little more awake.

Hangover going away?

Can’t ya tell? Heh heh heh.

Good Lord, it’s like visiting with a frat boy. This place is even littered with beer bottles, which is odd since I don’t drink beer.

Imagine how your dreams would be if, say, I dropped acid? I think you’re getting off pretty easy here.

How so?

Well, you get the benefit of my insobriety while I have to wake each afternoon with a hangover. I think you’re the one taking advantage of me.

Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re pushing your problems off onto me.

Listen, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Your dreams aren’t as incoherent and incongruent as you think.

They aren’t? Hmm, try explaining that to my husband. He thinks my dreams are indicative of something far worse than just an active imagination.

He does?

Not really, but he does roll his eyes whenever he hears me say, “You won’t believe the dream I had last night…” He usually follows that up with, “And it was very weird.”

Nice catch phrase.

It works. So, back to the garbage truck dream. What was that all about?

Simple. Remember last year when you got all caught up in that work stuff?

Yea, that was a load of crap.

Ahhhh…

Oh…I think I’m catching on. I had to take a load of crap last year from some fellow workers..

Keep going…

And now that the main trouble maker is gone…

Un huh…

I can officially “dump” the idea of having to take that same load of crap THIS year!

BINGO!!!

Wow, that is freakin’ amazing. You did all that?

And you thought I was nothing more than just a lazy, shiftless, raging alcoholic frat boy who enjoys the occasional picture show of girl-on-girl action and nudity..

Whoa, buddy…Let’s not go there, okay?

Hey, I’m a guy, what can I tell ya?

I guess we all have our weaknesses. Just remember, I don’t swing that way. So, if you’re in the mood for a little girl on girl porn, go visit my hubby, okay?

Cool. How does he feel about Jennifer Aniston?

You’re a pig.

You know you love me.

I’m out of here.

Conversations with My Muse: Choices We Make

Ow, ow, ow…

What’s wrong?

I’m old, that’s what’s wrong.

You, old? You’re only 47!

What the hell, I’m only 44 — 45 this October.

Ohhhh, you mean you didn’t just turn 47 this year?

No. That was my spouse.

Ah, well I knew there was a 47 year old living somewhere in your house.

Yea, he’s the older dude, going gray.

That happens. Well, it happens to others.

What do you mean by that?

Well, look at me, for instance. How “old” do you think I look?

Yea, yea, I get it — you don’t look a day older than 24.

And HOW old am I really?

Well, I’m not sure. We’ve never really established that, have we?

Older than Jesus, if you believe that kind of stuff.

Oh, I’m definitely a Christian. Just not “that” kind of Christian.

What do you mean by “not that kind of Christian”?

Creationists. I am not a big believer in that theory.

Oooh, are we here to discuss theology? This could be quite the debate.

Eh, not so much. It’s so hard to get good, solid debates going with people nowadays.

How come?

Someone always gets pissed off. It seems that I can’t say a damn thing anymore without risking getting someone’s knickers in a knot.

Knickers? What are those?

Pants.

Again, what are those?

Aw come on, you know what pants are, don’t you?

Um, do you see what I’m wearing here?

You mean your toga?

Yes. I’ve had this on for several thousand years now. Of course I change it from time to time, add a couple of extra fig leaves and olive branches where and when necessary, but it’s pretty much all I have in my wardrobe.

How boring.

Well, yes and no. It makes it a lot simpler to choose what to wear in the morning. I don’t have to stand in my closet and think too hard about my outfit.

True. I like the simplicity behind that.

But, there are times when I wish I had a little more “something something”. Know what I’m saying?

Not really, but I sense you’re going to tell me anyways, aren’t you?

Come on, how long have we known each other now?

True. Go on, share your latest “thoughts on fashion” with me. I’ll just sit here and enjoy this hot cup of coherence.

Ha! “Cup of coherence” — I like that!

Thanks, I created that one on my own. You were “off duty” that day, wink wink.

Sheesh! You won’t let me live that incident in Italy down, will you?

Well, it was a pretty serious thing you did.

Let’s move on, shall we?

Agreed. Now, explain your fashion sense.

Okay. I’ll start with the toga. This is my “required” work uniform, so I have to wear this when I am working with others on their composing.

Uniform? Your toga is a uniform?

Of course, if I didn’t wear this people wouldn’t take me seriously as an Ancient Greek Muse. So, it goes without saying that I am required to remain professionally dressed at all times. Hence, the toga.

Wow, some uniform. I assume it is insulated from the cold weather climates, too?

Of course! I added an extra layer or two of lanolin and gortex for those chilly biomes I go to on occasion.

Like the Inuits up north?

Exactly. If it hadn’t been for those added layers, I’d have turned into a frozen musicle. Ha, get it? MUSE icle, MUSICAL?

Groooooaaaan…

I swear, I kill me some times.

Back to our topic…

Hang on a sec…I’ve got to change songs on my IPod…

Whoa. You’ve been listening to your Ipod while you’re sitting here talking to me?

Yea, why not? I’m a great multi tasker.

That’s kinda rude. I have to tell my kids all the time to take their ear buds out of their ears and listen to me. The only relief I have is, they don’t have cell phones too — so I am not competing with their text messaging skills.

Your kids don’t have cell phones?

No, and they won’t be getting them any time soon. I figure if I am driving my kid somewhere, I damn well know where he or she is, and if I call that place and they aren’t there — well, that’s a problem they won’t like having.

Wowwwww…

Yea, I know — I’m a real old-fashioned, fuddy duddy of a mom. My kids tell me that almost every day. My choice, though. I survived my early years without one just fine, thank you very much.

I think that’s a good thing, though.

You do? I thought you’d be a little disappointed in me. Think I was being too strict as a mom.

Can I let you in on a little secret?

Sure.

There’s been a lot of talk back on Mt Olympus about your kids.

My kids? Huh???

Oh yea! Zeus and Hera have been very complimentary towards you, your husband and your kids. They feel you and your husband have your parenting shit together.

And where are they getting this information from?

Me, silly. Do you think I just sit around here, listen to you blather on about your life, etc, and not do anything with that information?

Well, there was this whole “confidentiality agreement” you agreed to sign.

That only covers issues of privacy that might jeopardize your career or personal safety — first and/or last names, kids names, city locations, etc.

Ah.

The rest is “free domain” knowledge. And by Gods, your children are good kids. Worthy of a paragraph or two in the parenting section of the Mt. Olympus Monthly.

Wow, the Gods like me, they really, really like me!

Okay Sally Fields, let’s get back to the main point of today’s topic: choices.

Yes, I LOVE this topic.

Why?

Because there have been times lately when I’ve just wanted to pull my hair out over some of the things I’ve heard in the press.

And you think this is a good thing? To get so stressed out about what others are doing?

It makes me feel better about the choices I make.

Give me a story that really chapped your hide.

I see you’re borrowing a phrase I used the other day: “chaps my hide”

I didn’t borrow it, I gave it to you.

Okay, whateverrrr!

No, no, no! Remember — we both agreed to strike that word from our collective vocabulary! tsk tsk!

Sorry, you’re right. Let’s move on..A story…well, without having to rehash what I wrote about that cop who was caught going 149 mph on his motorcyle, I’d just like to finish that story up by saying the arresting officer made a foolish choice of his own.

How so?

He turned off the microphone on his radio after he realized the officer who was speeding was a “friendly.”

What’s a “friendly”?

A fellow cop, you know — one of his own.

So the conversation wasn’t recorded? No evidence? Oooh, that sounds bad.

Yea, sounds a little like a cover up, huh?

Could be. What’s going to happen to the cop, do you think?

I dunno, but I’m assuming that there will be an investigation. At least I hope so.

Okay, I get it. It goes back to “choices” we make.

Exactly — the choices we make are the stepping stones to the consequences we must endure.

Nice quote, who said that?

I did! I just made it up.

Well, I like it — heyyyyyyyy…

Ah ha, is that what I think it is?

Huh?

I see the light bulb going off over your head.

You want me to reconsider turning myself in, don’t you?

Wow, I’m impressed. You stayed on task and focused today AND caught the message I have been trying to give you the entire time.

You’re very clever.

Naw, just getting older and wiser.

Conversations with My Muse: Anonymity and Affirmation

EXCUSE ME! I believe I had my hand on that watermelon first!

Oh, I’m sorry — here, take it.

Thank– OH MY GOD, IT’S YOU!

Shhhhh! Please, don’t…

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN???????

Be quiet! People are starting to stare…

Let them, and give me a hug first!

Really, I beg of you, please tone it down..

Okay, sorry….

That’s better, thanks.

I just can’t believe you’re back…and in the middle of the produce department, thumping watermelons, even.

Well, you know me – ADPB girl.

True. So, let me take a look at you. Take a twirl for me.

I’d rather not.

Aw come on, nobody knows who you are, and I doubt anyone is thinking anything other than we’re two friends who haven’t seen each other in a while.

Well, put that way…okay

Okay, I understand the long skirt..some habits are hard to break, huh? But, I need a little explanation here…what the hell is going on with the wig, dark sunglasses and black beret?

I’m in disguise.

Disguise? Oh hell…..you’re still on the run, aren’t you?

Yes.

Why??? Didn’t I tell you to turn yourself in?

Well, about that…

Oh, this should be good. Go ahead, I’m listening.

I was heading to Italy, fully intending on turning myself in, when “it” happened. Or, I should say “he” happened.

Why am I not surprised by this? Pony up — who is the “he” in this flimsy excuse?

Oh my god Nerd, you should see him! He is sooooooo cute!

Here we go again….lemme guess — are we 17 today? 22? I can’t tell behind the sunglasses and fake bobbed wig.

Hey, I’m an adult and that’s all you need to know. You really shouldn’t be so judgmental, ya know.

That’s my job, to keep you in line.

Since when?

Since I hired you. You work for me.

And exactly how much am I being paid for this little “deal” we’ve swung with each other? What IS my cut? Cuz, I’m still waiting for that…

Well, it just so happens that you and I are “getting published”! Ha!

No kidding????? When did all this happen?

While you were gallavanting around the globe, and picking up strange men.

Oh my God–that reminds me, I still haven’t told you about my new guy!

This “unfocused” behavior is kinda starting to piss me off, muse. Can we please stay on topic for ONCE?

Well, sure…um, what is the topic?

Siggggggh…

Oooh, while you’re doing your deep breathing exercises, let me tell you about my new guy. I think this could be “the one”.

You’re not gonna let this one go until you’ve gushed all about him, are you?

He’s my life now.

That’s creepy sounding.

Well….as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me with all this talk about “being published”, I met him en route to Italy. I was coming down the coast of Russia, veered to the right, over Yugoslavia when BINGO! I saw him.

Yugoslavia? What part?

Croatia. What a beautiful country, by the way.

Yes, I know. I’ve got in laws from that area. Zagreb, if I remember correctly.

Cool! So you know how dreamy the men are? I just love brown eyes…it’s like looking into pools of liquid chocolate. I just want to fall in and lap him all up.

Slow down there, chickie. We’re still in public, ya know.

I can always go stick my head in the frozen foods department.

That might work. Just don’t leave any butt prints on the ice cream containers. The staff tends to frown on that type of behavior.

I would assume so.

Okay, so let me make sure we have our stories straight, okay?

Yep, but first — do you know where I can find the following items: Feta cheese, Romaine lettuce, garlic and olive oil?

Mmmm, sounds like a Greek salad to me.

But of course, what else would I make for my man?

Ever try Saganaki?

What’s that? It sounds yummy…

Flaming cheese. It’s a real “celebratory” food — you pan fry a coated piece of cheese in olive oil, put a little brandy in it, take it to the table, light it and, at the top of your voice, yell “OPA!” while trying not to set your eyebrows on fire at the same time. Then, douse the flames with a half of a lemon squeezed over the top. It is to DIE FOR.

Fire? You trust me around flames?

Good point, stick to the salad.

So, are we done here? My man is waiting for me back at our place.

You’re living together????

Not yet. We’ve only been dating for a week now.

Ah.

If things work out, I’m going to suggest we rent a place together somewhere in Switzerland.

Why Switzerland of all places?

Netural territory. The law can’t touch me there.

Ah…So I am assuming you’re perfectly okay with being a professional fugitive, always on the move?

Beats the alternative.

And what would the “alternative” to being a fugitive exactly be?

Being stuck with the same house, same job, same city, same spouse, same kids, year after year, waiting for death to release you from life’s dull grasp.

Wow, that’s harsh. I totally disagree.

I tell it like it is. And one final thing…

What’s that?

Those shorts do make your ass look a little too big.

Leave now, before I alert security.

What would you do….???

If you were allowed to learn ONLY “one thing” ahead of time, what would it be and why? Think about it.

Food for thought: if you say “lottery numbers”, then you can’t know what date they are going to be drawn (because that is TWO things: numbers AND day)

I look forward to your answers!!

The Nerd

Ascension

At times, my life was a landscape,
Designed and defined
By wheat-colored, stilled flat lands
Stretching for endless miles,
along a simple plane.
My life at times was a slow pace
Of gradual ascent
Towards a sandstone plateau
Overlooking impassable peaks and low-lying valleys.
Riverbanks overflowing from tears,
Raged alongside
The soft carpeting of springy, green grass
just beyond my reach,
where lavender-colored flowers bent to the wind’s call
and red-breasted songbirds answered in unabashed celebration.

My life is becoming
A series of jagged,
Roughened, wind-worn edges
Of slips, dips, slides and glides
Along its changing horizons.
The pebbles under my feet –
Small annoyances left behind long ago.
The stones in my shoes –
My burdens along this beaten path.
Boulders – some granite, others made of
weathering sandstone,
Are my constant worries:

Am I good enough?
Am I smart enough?
Am I loved enough?

Navigating this mountain
I remind myself to breathe in deeply
To fill my body with life’s experiences
And oxygen to feed my slowly healing soul.

I scan the horizon above, beside and below me:
Above– the freedom to think, to be, to allow, to accept
Beside– less frequent boulders continue to block  my path ahead
Below– more pebbles and stones awaiting my weary feet

Then will I begin my descent down the other side
Stopping only when my journey ends at the place where
I find that bright, green, spring-filled meadow of
safe, soft grass.
Where I can dance,
Unencumbered and unabashed,
among the yellow buttercups and flittering butterflies,
Bare-footed and finally free.

Conversations with My Muse: Reacting to Stress

Ummmm…can I come in?

Well, well, you’re back…

Yeaaaaaa

Do we even need to talk about where you’ve been these past few days?

Stop shouting…I’ve got a raging headache.

DAMN WELL YOU SHOULD!

Please stop! I think my head’s going to explode here

Serves you right! What in the world happened this weekend?

I went a little off the deep end.

I heard that…you know the authorities are out looking for you?

Yes, the grapevine is all abuzz about what happened in Italy

Amazing what happens when the story shows up on the internet news wires, huh?

Guess so. Are you mad?

Hey — it’s not my fault you went on a bender. I’m not ultimately responsible for your behavior, ya know..

I know, I know…but — I had a great excuse–

This oughta be good…care to elaborate?

I was “stressed”…

Stressed? STRESSED?

Please, I’ve asked you not to shout…and yes, I was stressed.

What in the wide, wide world of writing could you be stressed about?

That speech…

What speech? I’m assuming you have assisted many people in writing speeches, right?

Yes, but THAT speech — you know, the one I did last week for the genocide witness.

Ohhhh–okay, go on

That one knocked me off my ancient flip flops. I thought the topic was going to be a little less heavy than it turned out to be…

Well, you knew going in it was going to be about “genocide”, didn’t you?

Yes, of course I knew that..based on the outline she had ready for me. I just didn’t expect it to become as gruesome as it did…

Gruesome? What exactly did you and she write about anyways?

Ohhhh, this and that..ya know, it’s not easy to talk about it — especially with a throbbing headache…got any aspirin? I tried chewing a willow tree branch, but that didn’t work.

I have ibuprofen, if that helps

I’ll try anything. Gawwd, I feel like crap!

No doubt. So, wanna talk about it?

About what?

The speech? Your bender? Why you felt it necessary to trash a hotel, sleep with an Italian soccer team, shout at the Pope….need I say more?

Oh myyyy…did I really do all those things?

Yes, and more..why — don’t you remember?

I don’t remember anything past the nachos and margaritas at the hotel’s bar.

Oh, that’s bad

Tell me about it…can I have that ibuprofen now?

Sure…here ya go, and make sure you chase those down with a big glass of water.

Uggggh, thanks.

Okay, so — the speech was horrifying, you got stressed out….took a much needed vacation. I get all that.

Good.

What I don’t get was the trouble you got into afterwards. Did you even stop to think about what you’ve done?

I told you, I don’t remember anything beyond Friday night…nada, zero, zip.

Wow, that’s bad. Do you need a reminder?

I dunno — do I need a reminder?

Well, there was a news report out there about you…I figure someone might be looking for you.

Oh nooo..

I would suggest you do two things: 1) lawyer up — you’re going to need a good one to help you weed through this mess you’ve made for yourself and 2) turn yourself in.

Lawyer up? What’s that?

Find a good public defense attorney who can argue your case for you — apparently you’re not in any position to defend yourself — I don’t care how good of a writer you think you are, there is no way you’re going to write yourself out of this one.

Ugggh, guess I have no choice. Okay, next?

Number 2: turn yourself in. Authorities appreciate not having to use their valuable time and resources tracking down criminals. If you turn yourself in, throw yourself at their mercy, then maybe you’ll have the more serious charges reduced down to some minor misdemeanors.

What does that mean for me?

Well, in some cases, the courts will sympathize and give you community service.

That’s not too bad, huh?

Well, it depends…it seems that happens with celebrities and rich people more than anyone else — of which you are neither.

Again with the “celebrities” — why do they get away with so much?

Ask them, I’m just a regular “jane”. I live in the midwest.

I suppose I could use my charm and try to get the charges whittled down, huh?

I’d try that. Anyone you know who could help you write a really emotional plea bargain? I suggest you hire them.

Good idea. As for community service, what would you consider a fair amount?

200 hours of community service…

THAT MANY?

Hey, you insulted the POPE and Christianity..do you have any idea how pissed off people are at you? Two thousand years of religious theology — and you had to go and denounce it? Then, insult the very  man who introduced more than 1,000 words into the English language? Wow, I’m amazed they aren’t calling for you to be burned at the stake like the heretics of old!

Again, not my fault…

I disagree — it IS your fault, but the motives behind your actions are somewhat plausible.

Haven’t you ever done anything under stress?

Sure, I have..I was just thinking about that today..

And what is that?

Well, I finally stopped a lifetime habit of biting my nails.

Eww.

Yea, did it most of my life.

Any insight why?

I dunno. But strangely enough, ever since I started writing, I stopped biting my nails.

Hmmmm…..

I sense you have a theory about this?

Of course.

Okay, shoot..

I think you had so much to say, and no “safe” place to say it, that you were all “bottled up” inside.

Now it’s my turn to say “hmmm”. Go on.

Well, once you started getting these thoughts down on paper, you relaxed a bit, and no longer feel that same level of compulsion to bite your nails.

Ah. Fascinating.

It actually is amazing, when we think about it. Our brains make us do things we aren’t consciously aware we are doing.

Have you been studying psychiatry now?

A little bit. I’m fascinated by how the brain works.

Me too, I especially am intrigued about the nature of “handedness” and how that plays in our development.

Are we going off topic here?

Just a bit. I am definitely more creative than I am analytical. That’s cuz I’m a leftie. Creativity occurs more in the right brain than the left…

Uhhh, my head’s beginning to pound again. Can we table this discussion for now?

Sure, besides, don’t you have something important to do?

Huh?

Turn yourself in, face the authorities, etc..?

I suppose so…But, can I have a drink first?

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? REALLY?

Come on, how well do you know me?

Too well, which is why I’m shocked.

Oh, lighten up — I was only kidding.

Okay, okay — I’ll give you that one. And I’ll let you go. But you have to promise me something first?

What’s that?

Do the right thing. Always. And if you feel like you’re getting overstressed again, come to ME first, k?

Will do.

Hugs?

Hugs.

Later, chickie.

Conversations with My Muse: Consequences of Our Actions

Well, well. It looks as though my muse has gotten herself into a little bit of a legal entanglement. While perusing the internet news sites, I came across this little news blurb:

Woman Sought for Damages, Causing International Havoc

(IP) International authorities (Interpol) are currently on the search for a woman connected to a recent series of disturbances in and around the Mediterranean area. As recently as last Friday, July 3l, several witnesses staying at the Hotel Trevi in Rome, Italy, indicated they had seen a young woman acting “strangely”. “We were there to see the Pope,” Augusta Sincionni stated to local authorities. “We didn’t expect such a sideshow!”

According to local attendees at the Pope’s Friday night service, the woman was overheard yelling random, nonsensical things such as: “Down with monotheism! Socrates deserved to die!” and, most bizarrely “Shakespeare was a fake!”

Unable to apprehend the suspect, authorities are now asking for the public’s help. The woman can be described as “in her mid- to late-twenties, braided, reddish hair, wearing a white toga with gold lamé trim and carrying a switch-blade stylus.” Anyone who sees a woman matching that description is encouraged to contact the local authorities. She is not considered “armed and dangerous,” merely off her medication.

Conversations with My Muse: My Muse Takes a Vacation

(This is what I received at 3:30 pm EST)

To: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
From: Muse2009@wordpress.com
Subject: Vacation
Date: July 31, 2009

Hey there! Just arrived at my hotel room. The place is gorgeous! The view outside of my window is spectacular. Will unpack my belongings and head down for a quick toe dip in the ocean. Afterwards, a nap and dinner.

Hope all is well back at your place – talk to you soon!

The Muse

(This is what I sent at 3:47 pm EST)

To: Muse2009@wordpress.com
From: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
Subject: RE: Vacation
Date: July 31, 2009

Glad to hear you made it there safely. Sounds like they set you up with some pretty decent accommodations. Dip a toe in the ocean for me too, k?

Talk to you soon!

The Nerd

(Time of new email: 6:23 pm)

To: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
From: Muse2009@wordpress.com
Subject: RE: RE: Vacation
Date: July 31, 2009

Plans changed a bit. Met up with my sorority sisters and fellow muses. We’re going to the hotel’s bar for a quick visit and to gorge on some nachos and margaritas. Will email you before bed–say 10 pm? See ya!

Hugs!

The Muse

(Time of new email: 8:20 pm EST)

To: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
From: Muse2009@wordpress.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Vacation
Date: July 31, 2009

Hey, how’s it goin? I’m GREAAAT! Sisters and I havng fun…met some good lookng guys from Italy – I think I helpd one of the guy write a sonnet once – not sure LOL!

Eratos starting to act a little too sluty for my tasts. She sure can slam down the wine!

Headin to a frat party. I think I might be a bit underdressed…idk

TM

(Time of new email 2:17 am EST)

To: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
From: Muse2009@wordpress.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Vacation
Date: August 1, 2009

OMG, I’ soooooo wastd! Frat party suckd – so we went back to Thalia’s to watch some comedy shows. Erato stole my boyfriend – f*ckin B! Sh can walk hme!I knew I colndt trust her around hm.

Go DELTA KAPPA MNU! WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!

Where’d that fire exguisher?

Oh crap- the dor….siitt – cops here! gtta g!

(Time of new email 10:30 am EST)

To: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
From: hotelsecurity@wordpress.com
Subject: Damage Incurred to Hotel Room
Date: August 1, 2009

Dear Ms. “Wordnerd45”:

I am writing to inform you of the current conditions of room #751 here at this hotel. Apparently, one of your personal acquaintances “The Muse”, six of her friends, an entire Italian soccer team and one grey, three-legged donkey took up accommodations in this hotel the prior evening.

Upon their departure, our housekeeping staff discovered the room in complete ruins. Damages include, but are not limited To: overturned furniture, torn draperies, unidentifiable stains on the carpeting, and what appears to be some form of “wood burning barbeque pit” in the foyer of the suite.

Since we are fairly certain the rented room was in pristine condition prior to your friend’s visit, we believe she is partially liable for the costs of repair. However, when we approached her this morning to inquire about the evening’s events, she was nowhere to be found.

Only through searching through her laptop records did we find your email address.

Please respond accordingly, so we can track her down and make her reimburse us for all damages associated with last night’s debauchery. Any help you can give us to locate her would be greatly appreciated. Thank you!

Sincerely,

Hotel Management

(Time of response: 12:17 pm)

To: hotelsecurity@wordpress.com
From: wordnerd45@wordpress.com
Subject: RE: Damage Incurred to Hotel Room
Date: August 1, 2009

Dear Hotel Security Team Members:

I am sorry to hear about the current situation at your hotel. I can only imagine how disappointed and alarmed you must feel concerning the state of room #751.

However, I do not know what I can do to assist you in locating the culpable parties involved. My muse has a mind of her own, and has been known to cause this type of trouble prior to today, on numerous occasions.

You might want to try to contact Hera, Zeus’ wife, on Mt. Olympus. She seems to be a bit of know-it-all busybody, and most likely would be able to tell you exactly where my muse and her six sisters currently are.

Good luck—let me know how things turn out!

The Nerd

What would you do…

Great for Crane Magnetics!

With a Smart Car at  your disposal?

Conversations with My Muse: Dreams

Excuse me, but….Erik Estrada?

Erik Estrada? Who’s that?

The guy who was totally “crushing” on me last night.

Were you hurt?

No, silly. That’s a term

What’s a “term”?

“Crushing”

What’s it mean?

It means that someone *likes* another person.

Well, I must be crushing on you then.

No…lol, not likes as in Hey-I-enjoy-being-your-friend kind of *like*, but *like like*

Still not getting it.

Let me give you an analogy you can understand, ok?

That might work.

How do you feel about me?

I think you’re cool.

How do you feel about….chocolate?

It’s good..

Vodka and cranberry juice?

LOOOOOVE it.

Well there ya go, Erik liked me last night to the same degree you like Vodka and cranberry juice.

Oh, I see. Is he cute?

Well, last night he was. This morning, probably not as much.

Did you sleep with him?

No!!!! Good Lord, I’m married!

Then why were you with him last night?

Hey, he came to me. I didn’t go out gallavanting.

I’m getting confused again.

I probably should fill in some minor details.

That would certainly help.

I was sleeping and –

He came into your room while you were sleeping????

No! This is the point in our conversation where you don’t talk, okay?

Uh humm..

So, I was sleeping and Erik came to me in a dream.

Ah!!!! I get it. So you dreamt about being in love with Erik Estrada?

Yes, now you understand.

I get it….question?

Who’s that?

Oh my God…you don’t know who Erik Estrada is? How long have you been floating around this world?

Thousands of years, and no I haven’t. I can’t meet every one ya know..

I’ll give you that.

So, tell me more. Who is he and why was he in your dreams last night?

He used to star on a popular television show called “CHIPS”. He was a cop. They called him “Ponch”.

Ponch — that sounds like a fat man in a rain suit.

Trust me, he wasn’t anything like that. He was a very handsome guy — his face was plastered all over the gossip magazines.

You keep saying “was” — is he dead?

No, he’s still alive. But, he’s thirty years older now. I don’t really know what he looks like.

Well, you can google him ya know.

I should! Hang on…

C.H.I.P.S.

There he is as “Ponch” from CHIPS

Wow, he is pretty hot.

Yes, I had such a crush on him….in 7th grade!

7th Grade? Gosh, that was….if I do my math correctly….1977?

Yes.

Holy crap that was a long time ago!

I know!

What does he look like now?

Hang on, let me try to find another picture..

Erik Now

That’s what he looks like now? Hmmm.

Yes. I’m afraid he’s a bit too over-botoxed and polished now.

What’s botox?

It’s the latest craze out here. Ever hear of botulism?

No, what’s that?

It’s a form of bacteria allowed to breed in food. The bacteria is a toxin–

Toxin? That’s poison, right?

Yes.

And people use this on their FACES?

Yes..

Holy Hercules, that’s gross!

Well, they don’t use a deadly supply on their face…

Oh?

No, they just use a smaller dose…It just temporarily paralyzes the facial muscles, leaving the skin looking taut. And, unfortunately, a little like a mannaquin’s face too.

I noticed that with Marcia Cross and Nicole Kidman — beautiful ladies, frozen faces.

Exactly. So…back to my dream with Erik. What was that all about?

What do you mean?

Why did I have a dream about Erik Estrada? I haven’t thought of him in years…

I dunno.

Aren’t you my muse? My visionary? The woman who brings me inspiration, creativity, poetry, etc? The one who, without those skills I’d be forced to study calculus equations? *hee hee*

Well, yes and no…

Huh?

I don’t do the night shift. I only work the 8 am to 10 pm shift with you.

You don’t?

Of course not! Did you honestly think I worked around the clock for no pay?

Well….my dreams are just as vivid as my day thoughts..I just figured —

Well, sorry to disappoint ya chickie, but I don’t do nights. I save that for my co-worker. And, let me give you a little insight about him —

Who?

My co-worker, “The Sandman”…

Ahhhhhh. What is it?

He tips the bottle a little too often. You know — glug, glug, glug

What makes you say that?

Think about it carefully. Do your dreams ever make perfect sense?

No, but they seem to make sense at the time I’m having them.

That’s because The Sandman is still at the bar, knocking back a few pints. Every thing seems okay, while he’s still sober. But by the time you wake up and begin to think about your dream — well, he’s passed out on the floor of a bathroom somewhere, waiting for the effects to wear off.

The Sandman’s a raging alcoholic?

Absolutely! But, he’s hilarious at times. Ever dream about being somewhere totally naked?

All the time..

That’s him playing a practical joke on you.

I don’t see how my being naked in public is in any way, shape or form *funny*.

I guess you had to be there….We get big giggles out of it when we all gather back at Mt Olympus to play the game tapes back. I swear Zeus is going to fall off his gilded throne every time he sees another naked person sitting in a classroom, to be honest.

Well, thanks for having a laugh at my expense.

Oh, lighten up. It’s only a dream. Like you wouldn’t actually be naked anywhere in public, right?

Maybe a nude beach somewhere..

You have those now?????

Yes, not exactly sure where though.

Wowwww, I am so there…Let me google it. I’m about ready to leave anyways, got some spare time on my hands.

You’re a wild one, aren’t you?

Always.

Okay, gotta get some more coffee in me anyways. Hugs?

As usual.

Later, chickie!

Playing for Change: A wonderful way to unite through music

Check this out — way cool!

http://www.playingforchange.com

“Stand by Me” and “One Love” are the best!

The Nerd

Conversations with My Muse: Knowing My Audience

Ya know, chickie…people are starting to worry about you.

How so?

You’re having daily conversations with a nonexistent person.

Nonexistent? Who’s that?

Me.

But, you’re becoming very real to me.

In what ways?

Well, I know more about you than I did back in, say, June.

I didn’t really exist in June.

Just because I didn’t acknowledge your presence, doesn’t mean you didn’t exist.

Hmmm..feeling very existential today, I see.

Kind of. I’m trying to get away from always writing about writing.

You growing tired of our conversations?

Not at all. I think they’ve been extremely valuable to me.

Then why the sudden desire to wander off topic?

It’s not a wandering, so much as a stroll into other wooded areas.

Come again?

I’m thinking about hiring you for something else other than just writing.

But, I’m a professional muse. Assisting others with writing is, well, that’s my job.

But didn’t you also mention you’re considering going back to school to become a therapist?

I did. Are you on the verge of some mental crisis I should know about?

Not at all — LOL! I just thought you’d be a good person to talk with about “other” things, not just writing.

What kinds of “other” things? That’s a pretty wide topic area there.

Just “other” things. Relationships, general thoughts, creativity, suppressed rage..

Whoaaa, somethings are better left to the professionals. That last part about suppressed rage — I don’t even want to go there.

I was only kidding. I threw that out there just to see if you were paying attention.

I took my morning medication. I’m very sharply focused right now. Knife’s-edge focus.

Ha ha ha! Reminds me of someone…

Who?

My dog. Have I ever told you about how focused he is around food?

Yes, he is a beagle, after all…

Of course it helps to have a mom who will feed him yum yums on a consistent basis.

Yea, yea — you wrote something about that: “Who Owns Whom?” — that’s a typical snapshot of your relationship, huh?

Pretty much. I’ve often told people that if he and hubby fell through the ice at the same time, I’d rescue my dog first, wipe him off, warm him up, feed him, then go back for my hubby.

How does your hubby feel about playing second fiddle to a canine?

He understands. He has learned to accept this.

You aren’t really serious about that, are you? Your dog comes before your husband?

LOL — well, the dog does love me unconditionally..

Are we back to a “therapist-patient” thing here? I hope not, cuz I can’t be sworn to confidentiality issues. Not when we’re sitting here chatting like this.

I understand. Naw, I’m wise enough to know when things are for public display, and when I need to keep my mind’s trap shut.

You screwed up the other day, though.

Oh boy, did I. I had to fix that real quick.

All’s right again?

Yep. For now. I guess it’s all relative.

How so?

Certain things need to remain unspoken, or at least unwritten.

Why some and not others?

Well, I’m not saying I can’t share them with you. I just need to be extra aware of who does and does not get to read them. I must be aware of my audience at all times.

Speaking of which — congrats on the blog stats!

Ya, how about that? Over 1,000 hits in less than a month. Someone must be enjoying my words.

I agree — you’re a very good writer, you know. I’ve barely had to assist you in this process. Some folks struggle for days over a single letter. Not you — you seem to get things down quickly, do some minor edits, then voila — another blog post.

Yes, I find my initial thoughts and words are what I really want to say. If I start messing with them too much, I lose the original message.

I get that.

And my voice — I think I’ve finally discovered what kind of voice I have.

And that would be?

Casual, informal, friendly. I prefer this style to anything else.

Even a good rant?

Well, I have my off days too.

Don’t we all? But, overall — how are you feeling about the quality of your writing?

It seems to be improving on a daily basis. Oh! Did I tell you a friend of mine asked me to read and write a professional review of his new book?

Really??? Wow, that’s a real feather in your cap.

Sure is — that shows he trusts my judgment and my writing skills.

Definitely.

But, of course I had to find an error in the book.

Occupational hazard, isn’t it?

Tell me about it. I’ve often referred to myself as “Princess Grammatica, Keeper of the Red Pen”

That’s a good one! Do you proofread much?

I work part time as a freelancer. Low pay, but I love it. Looking to expand my opportunities.

How come?

It really forces me to focus. I look at every little thing on the page, searching for an error like a rescue dog in an avalanche.

Hm..

What’s wrong?

I’m not a big fan of the end process of writing — you know, the editing/proofreading/rewriting thing. I like the input, not output.

I get that. Not all folks do. I love all stages of writing — from brainstorming until publication. It’s “my thing”.

Well you certainly do come with an arm’s length of credentials.

It’s in the damn DNA, I say.

So, back to this issue of “therapy” writing..

What about it?

I suppose if you need to bend my ear about something that’s bothering you, and it’s unrelated to writing, I guess I’d be amenable to that.

You would?

Yes, so long as we remember whose sitting in the audience, reading our stuff.

I agree, totally.

Well, then — it’s a done deal. Look for some of those musings to materialize from time to time.

Will do.

I guess I better go check my email. I’m waiting to hear how that speech in Darfur went.

How did that turn out, presentation wise?

Oh, that was very intense. She did all she could to keep from breaking down. I had to stand beside her and hold her shoulders, she was shaking so much.

Do you think the speech worked?

The government officials looked pretty stoic — hard to read them. Not sure what will come about as a result.

All you can do is just give us our words, the rest is up to us.

So true.

Okay, gonna go get some lunch and get on with my day.

Hugs?

Sure, why not?

Later, chickie.

Conversations with My Muse: Unblocking Writer’s Block

• Grannies with guns.
• TV reality shows.
• Bad drivers
• Bad teenage drivers
• Bad teenage drivers with cell phones
• Anyone with a cell phone
• Anyone with a cell phone standing in line at a check out counter, tying up my time and energy.
• I wonder if the Goodyear Blimp would make a “ssssssss” sound if I poked it with an ice pick?
• “Forget women, let’s talk beef!”
• Why does my dog love me so much, but my cat hate me? Am I “catjudice”?

Heyyyyyy! Over here!!!!

Huh? Oh…hey.

What are you doing?

Just thinkin’

About what? That’s a pretty random list of stuff, cept for the teenage driver thing…

Just thinkin’ about things I might want to explore in greater detail…By the way, I have a question for you. Take a seat, please.

Rut roh, looks like I’m about to get an earful…maybe I need to back away a good foot or two…stay out of  “bitch slap” range

Might be a good idea…I’m a little cheesed off at you right now.

What’d I do?

You know what you did…

No, honestly I don’t. Was it something I said?

Hardly.

Something I did?

No.

Then what’s left?

Both

Huh?

Something you did not do and did not say.

What????

You didn’t do anything.

And you’re upset….why?

Because of that!

What the hell are you talking about here?

You did nothing. I am upset because you….did…..nothing.

I’m so friggen lost. Can you please try to explain this to me without causing a brain cramp here?

I have explained it to you. Twice now. You’re not listening to me.

I heard you loud and clear — you are mad at me for not doing anything.

Exactly.

What did I not do?

Anything! Geez, would you catch a clue here!!!!

I’m getting a headache.

That might be a brain cramp…I’ve had that all day now.

Brain cramp?

Yes…lemme ask you this — what have you been doing all day long?

I’ve been elsewhere….?

Uh huhhhh and….?

And what? I’ve been elsewhere. Nowhere near you. I haven’t done a thing to you and — ohhhhhh….

Do I see a light bulb going off here?

Well, maybe a flashlight — the batteries are still a little low right now..I’m having a hard time following the path of this conversation.

Turn the knob up higher.

That one right there?

Yes..

Oh! Okay..hang on — heyyyyy, looky here…room is lighting up again.

Amazing what a little creative imagination can do to a place, huh?

Yea, not so dark and fuzzy anymore.  Anyhooo…

Yes?

Just wonderin…you still upset with me?

A little. Working on my list though.

Yes, about that list…what is it anyways?

Oh — nothing, just a little battery for my imagination.

I didn’t realize imagination comes with its own jumper cables.

“Jumper Cables” — hmm, like that image. Yea, gonna use it again, somewhere.

Hey! speaking of power, I gotta run..

How come?

Somebody in Darfur needs my help in writing a speech.

Speech? That sounds like fun..what’s the subject?

Genocide. She’s presenting before her government.

Wow.

Pretty much. Hey —

What?

We friends again?

Of course, I just had a moment back there.

Apparently so. What was that all about?

Nothing.

Nothing? It had to be something. It just can’t not be about “nothing”.

But it was.

Okaaaay…guess it’s time to slip out of here before this starts all over again.

Good idea.

Later, chickie.