Monday, March 17, 2008
Getting High In the Deli
The next thing I know I'm getting high in a deli. I see the headline of something I wrote on the front page of the local newspaper. It's not The New York Times, but who cares, my voice has multiplied. I hand the cashier a dollar, and wait impatiently as her claws for nails, embellished with leopard print at the tips, slow her down. Now I'm frantically flipping through the pages and jumping up and down like I just got put through to Hollywood on American Idol. The cashier's face twists in that way an adolescent usually expresses sarcastic confusion, because I'm starting to squeal at my son whose peering up at me from his stroller. "Look! Mommy's published and she's FAMOUS (in a small, local sort of way), " I obliviously shout in my mommy sing-song voice. My son, whose not yet two years old, is staring intently at my moving mouth. It seems he's thinking, "Calm down mommy, almost doesn't really count." Sadly, it's too late, because now I'm hooked. I'm writing on napkins and the back of my hand. I won't stop till I've hit bottom, the local Bargain Basement Bookstore, that is.
Dear Internet Traveler,
Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.