Purple Iguanas Don’t Fly Kites in Texas

So… tired… must not watch television and knit…


It’s been sort of a crush, work wise, and I have yet to get my feet under me.

I need to get my feet under me, because I’m leaving for Orlando in less than a month, and I’m excited– there are a lot of people I’ll get to see in Orlando that I miss terribly the rest of the year. Some of them are coming together for Coastal Magic, which is starting tonight, and I miss them terribly.  Damon, Tere, Lila, Jennifer, Gina– have fun without me, peeps.  *sigh*

But aside from that, I’ve got odd-cap stuff to chat about– let’s see how much I can get through before my eyes start to close and I start to type in semi-homonyms in my sleep. You think that doesn’t happen? I’ve gone over many a manuscript that has “obvious” instead of “observant” or “parenthood” instead of “apparent”.  Or, my personal favorite– “obviant” because, well nothing says tired like making up words.  By the way, did you notice odd-cap?  What the hell– is that a cross between oddment and madcap? If so, I like it. I declare it a word. World– make it so!  And to that end, I’ll start with moments in editing.

*  My manuscripts at Dreamspinner go through three major edits and several rounds of proofreading. Not everything is cut and dried in edits, and the result is that sometimes we have conversations in the margins.  In this case, the conversation was the word “frissioning”–which is not actually a word. But I think it should be. In fact, I staged a rebellion in my editing notes about “Who can make this a word! I shall build a campaign platform on it!”  So, regarding that last thing?  I say we add “obviant” and “odd-cap” to our lexicon. They shall be Amy’s words.

*  And speaking of Amy’s words, I have made a horrible discovery. In an effort to convey affection, in the nature of things like, *hugs * and *squishes * and *love*, I made up my own word: *smishes *  It turns out, my editor, Goddess love her, actually looked “smishes” up in the Urban Dictionary.  

I keep using that word. It does not mean what I thought it means. And now I need to find another word.  And I LIKED that word. Tis a quandary.

* I swear to dog, the little dog wags her tail in her sleep. Game over, man. It does not get cuter than that.

*  Except when she actually sat up and begged. Paws hanging in front of her chest, eyes looking adorable, like a real dog. Holy crap.

*  Zoomboy had a doctor’s appointment today to catch up on his meds. As he stood at the counter he picked up a face mask, because, yanno, it’s plague season, and said, “Mom! Don’t I need a face mask!”

“No,” I said, distracted. “You’re not sick. You have ADHD.”

I look up and met the admitting clerk’s eyes and she was cracking up.

*  Mate and I had the conversation the other day before he left the house:

Mate: “How’s my hair?”  

Me: “Looks great, Barbie, you’ll be the envy of all the guys AT FLAG FOOTBALL!”

Mate: “Heh–point!”

* The kids have– like kids do– been giving me grief about, “But I don’t WANNA do that chore!” I’ve found the best thing– it’s weird how well it works.

“Is there anything we don’t do for you?”

Suddenly, the room goes quiet and the chore gets done.

Yeah, weird. Blows my mind too!

* Mate, after getting everything to fit in the dish cupboard: “AHA! Jenga!!!”

* The other day, Zoomboy made the following statement: “Darn, mom, my man-parts are sore.”  
I don’t remember what happened after that. The room erupted into chaos.

* Squish and I made Snickerdoodles last night. I was squishing the dough with a fork (it was a package) and she said, “Mom, can I do the next part?”

“No, honey, you’ll get dough all over your fingers.”

She stared at me, perfectly straight faced (remember– she’s eight) and said, “Yeah mom. That would be awful. Can I do the next part?”

Wow. How quickly they watch their older sisters and learn.

* Big T went eighteen hours without sleep, and came home buzzed on too much coffee and empowered by his own devil-may-care nonchalance regarding the laws of physics. I didn’t tell him that his father and I once went five days with only eighteen hours of sleep between us. It didn’t seem sporting somehow.

* And this morning on Amy’s Lane, I told a story–all true– about the worst work evaluation I’d ever endured. The thing was, until I looked at the story later, I didn’t realize I’d left out the most bizarre part of that day. It didn’t fit into the context of the article, but, you know– the title of this blog post is about the bizarre shit that’s flitting through my brain.

So here goes.

One of the most traumatic work evaluations I ever endured happened with a lesson plan that failed twice. The first time, I was trying to impress the vice principal with a new lesson plan, something I’d cooked up (which I had to do since we had no curriculum in those days) and I was really reaching. The lesson ended in disaster– and I got hired back for the next year, but I really wanted to redeem myself.

For the next year’s evaluation, the principal was reviewing me, and he missed our appointment something like fourteen times. Fourteen times. So that’s fourteen times that I came dressed, ready, with a perfect lesson plan–and he didn’t show. So, on this day, I wanted to fine tune the lesson plan that had failed the last time, and that’s when he walked in, and it failed spectacularly.

I spent the next three periods in hysterics. I mean, sobbing in the corner while half the class tried to comfort me and the other half tried to burn down the classroom, and I managed to pull myself together during my prep period– last period of the day.

That’s when I saw the message to call my stepmom, and I sat in my empty classroom, and she asked me how I was doing. The whole sorry thing spilled out of my mouth, complete with tears, and “I have to face my principal in half an hooooooooourrrrr….

And she said– I shit you not– “Well, I guess this won’t make any difference. Your grandma died.”


Yup. It wasn’t unexpected– as a family we had said our goodbyes, and said our peace. But, as my friend just told me–“You know? Only you could have that day.”

Not too much has changed, really.

I could still have that day.

0 thoughts on “Purple Iguanas Don’t Fly Kites in Texas”

  1. Unknown says:

    Sorry, love….Those iguanas of every freakin' color fly all sorts of stuff in Texas…at the FlugTag – one of those insane events Austin is renown for and Red Bull sponsors. But, what the heck, we have rubber ducky races, too.

    When those days, or even weeks come crashing down upon us, all that holds me from jumping off the roof is a.) knowing that good friends like you have the "crash and burn" days too and b.) all we have in the end is each other and a good sense of humor.

    Hugs to your "Barbie" (with a nod towards my "Rapunzel"….) and to you, too!

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