CAN WE GO BACK TO THE DAYZ. Except not really.

Despite protestations that I was never going to attend a fair again (too many times going to fairs convinced I was going to have a good time, only to puke up blue cotton candy or spend an obscene sum of money to get sunburned and nauseated by beer and deep-fried snickers which seemed like an awesome combination at first but then my friends wanted to go ride a spin-y ride and then I got sick (FAIRS ARE BAD PLACES FOR THE WEAK OF STOMACH), or one time I got yelled at by a cop in the parking lot who slammed his hand down on my car and screamed "DON'T YOU KNOW THE RULES OF DRIVING IN MINNESOTA??" -- this is what fairs do to people), I was easily persuaded to attend the Pima County Fair with @theKFoss by 1) The promise of a free admission pass and 2) Being told that Boyz II Men were the featured entertainers. 

Of course, I remembered almost immediately a reason I do stay away from fairs: rides that make can me pukey and discriminate against odd numbers: 

This is why fairs are bad for a teenager's self-esteem. It's a very restrictive model!

It was also quite hot at first -- I guess it was the earliest day on record that Tucson has hit 100 degrees. 


But gradually, as it became clear that I wasn't going to puke up blue cotton candy or cry over being a single rider (vast improvement over fairs of teenager-hood), I began to enjoy myself. Night fell, and night has the magical ability to turn to fairs from depressing places to magical, neon-lit tabernacles of delight. 


Plus, there are funny signs. 

My shoulders hurt: Ow! Ow!

Edited to add: Never, never will I be this lady. I know this. It's just that a writer is simply a reader who has been moved to emulation (thanks for the quote, Saul Bellow!). 


To continue:

I went for a massage last week and experienced my usual mixed-emotions massage experience. This is because massage always feels so amazing, but there's a usually a blow to my self-esteem after the massage, when the masseuse makes some sort of comment. 

To wit: once, after what I thought was a relaxing hour of massage from which I emerged blissfully soup-like, the masseuse said to me, "Um, so maybe..in future? You could, like, learn to relax your body?" 

Awesome. 

Ha ha! Bonus Post! Signs of Life, Part III

In town:

We could all use more of this:

Want to wear a bear?
Yeah, I wear a bear:
That's a bear-skin rug, my friends. And relax: that bear has been dead for a very, very long time. And you know what? I'm with Stephen Colbert on this one: bears are vicious killers and it's us or them. I don't invite bears to THE COTTAGE.

And thanks to Jason, here are some search keywords that lead to my blog:

Whoa, it's a not post

I won't say "Hey, I'm posting again!" because obviously I said that below and obviously it was A LIE.

I have no particular reason to post again, other than that I'm always writing blog posts in my head, so why not write them -- not in my head?

Oh, and occasional vague feelings of guilt for not using the blog as a Self Promotional Tool (though writing that makes me feel like a Self Promotional Tool*)

*I stole that from someone else. Which is even worse.

Here goes:

My old story has been archived online here, on the Whistling Shade Press website.

I'm having a story come out here in the summer (Annalemma magazine). I submitted to them partly because I really like their mission statement. Read it! Also look at the pretty pictures and read the stories, if you like.

I have a book review here. This kinda makes me feel like a rock star. Or the Minnesota book reviewing equivalent of a rock star. Which I guess is like Ethan or Jake?

Oh, my inspiration to post this was to say: why is it that when I choose "shuffle" on my IPod, I just skip every song that isn't already a favorite song I always listen to? This keeps me in the same pattern of just listening to the same songs over and over, which is why I picked shuffle in the first place. But then posting distracted me enough to stop doing that. So I actually discovered some songs on my IPod I'd never listened to before. Um...well done me, I guess?

Although it's funny that I feel that I don't listen to enough songs in my collection, because this is pretty much the reaction of my Music Loving Friends when they see my itunes collection:

Me: (secretly hoping Music Loving Friend will approve of my music collection) Here's my itunes collection!

Friend: This is...all the music you have?

Me: Yeah.

Friend: Oh.

This is because I always whittle my collection down: I never back it up, and so when my computer dies*, I tend to let the songs I don't actively want to replace go by the wayside. I also don't put embarrassing old CDs onto my computer. As a result, it's a slimdowned collection, meant to impress my Music Loving friends (look! only...sort of acceptable music here! No embarrassing 90s bands!). And then they...aren't impressed, because my collection is so small. Because if I really Loved Music, I'd never let attrition whittle my collection down.

*This tends to happen to me a lot, which is matter for another day.

Sigh.

Peace, y'all.