Wide Awake in Wonderland

For many years, I ran without music. I’d listen to the birds or traffic or wind or construction or whatever there was to listen to and think deep thoughts or think about nothing or fantasize about all the beverages I would drink when it was over.

But in the last year, I’ve realized I’m tired.

I don’t always feel like doing this.

I would often prefer to walk. More than that, I would often prefer to walk directly home and skip this whole ’six miles every other day’ business.

That’s when I added an iPod.

At the gym, I always use the iPod. This is more because I’m anti-social in my own way and don’t want anybody bothering me in their mistaken assumption I’m there for the meat market pickup scene that doubles as a gym (don’t they all???). And also because the music they broadcast overhead sucks.

Remember the few year period that all the TVs in gyms were set to a radio frequency and you had to bring a mini transister if you wanted to listen to them? That was ridiculous.

But come to think of it, typing this now, I have no idea how to listen to the TVs at the gym anymore. That’s fine though, because TV – and listening to people talk – makes me go slow. What doesn’t make me go slow is music.

In fact, some music possesses the magical power to pump me up and make me run faster than I ever would with just the birds and the fire engine noise.

Lately, that one song is “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas.

I love that song.

I love the upbeat, optimistic and yet brain dead lyrics.

I love the driving beat.

I love when they yell ‘Mazal Tov!”

Moreover, the song cheers me up and even makes me feel kind of happy, which is why I should probably go turn it on right now.

Because – in stark contrast to the lyrics (I gotta feeling that tonight’s gonna be a good night) – I just caught myself feeling like today was going to suck, and it’s only 9:30am.

Why is this, you ask?

Well, not because of the three-day weekend (Fourth of July) or gorgeous 90+ sunny weather or that I’m going on a girl’s trip with four other women starting late next week…but because I woke up and had the wind knocked out of my sails.

Simply put, I expected some help from the people who migrated the blog to the new server (and planted the seeds of the current layout problems as all the glitchy stuff that led to this started then and which I told them about at the time), but instead got a big fat bill for the migration back in April and a ‘these new fixes are going to cost you’ message and fed a growing fear that they don’t really understand Wordpress and are charging me a premium-priced hourly rate for their own on-the-job training.

More than anything, I got a sad feeling that this blog is such a problem-riddled money pit that maybe I wouldn’t be able to keep it going any more.

Bummer.

Now where’s my iPod?

I feel kind of lame today (tonight. It’s late. I’m turning vampire. It’s 1:38am. 2:00am-ish bedtimes are my new thing. Not that that’s either here nor there. Just a random fact.)

Let’s do the rundown:

Blog still f-ed up?  Check

Writing 8 pages of new book a day?   Check

Ready to trust people I don’t even know to try to fix blog situation mentioned above?  Check

Do I wish someone would crash through the door and bring me a cheeseburger and maybe some onion rings right now?  Check

What if they were wearing a terrifying and huge plastic Burger King mask?  So long as aforementioned burger/rings were present…check.

Really hate those monotone-singing rhyme-y C-O-M-C-A-S-T Comcast commercials? Check

Really need to pee right now?  Check

Tired as all hell?   Check

Goodnight/morning/next week, depending upon where you read this from!

(And can someone fix this mess already!?!?!?!?!?!)

What’s that you say!?

Extremely time-consuming job for a writer!?

Focused on the North Idaho Organized Crime scene!?

Wait. Hold the phone for real this time.

No, I mean it. Put the phone down. Put it on hold or promise to call back and hang up.

Ummmm….

Is there a North Idaho in Sicily?

You’re talking about Idaho? Like in the United States?

Okay. If you say so.

Federales is spelled wrong, but whatever. Apparently you were tangling with them and not pen-palling with them. And you’re looking for a ghost writer, so I guess it isn’t fair that I pick on you for not being able to spell (uniagnosed ADHD, extrodinary, succesfull, isnt, right writer. Just sayin’…)

However, lest I continue to discuss this outstanding example of Craigslist without letting everyone else in on the moment, let me cut and paste your ad here:

Writer Wanted For Ex North Idaho Drug Kingpin:

Looking for someone to write life story, unique story, unique Individual. Story consists of dealings with Colombians,Cubans, Mexican Federallies, 16 years in prison hanging out with mafia members from the Phildelphia Scarfo gang, Charlie Iannache, Anthony Pungitore, Gene Gotti-brother of John Gotti of the New York Mafia, being successful jail house lawyer. Story begins with the consequences for a boy with a gifted IQ who deals with uniagnosed ADHD and the path he takes in life through taking over the underbelly of the drug world,prison,self inflicted extrodinary rehabilitation efforts to his succesfull entrance back into society. This isnt some run of the mill drug dealer story! I SHOULD BE DEAD A HUNDRED TIMES OVER. GOD HAD HIS HAND ON MY SHOULDER TO GET THROUGH IT. ps: All Statue of Limitations are finished and all prison time completed. The story just needs to be told by a gifted writer. If interested, please submit writing proposal/compensation plans. I would prefer to give the writer a portion of proceeds, but would pay the right writer to do the story. Follow up to the book would be self help videos/books for children-parents-educators-inmates to not go down the path I took, or to change an inmates life around through education.

• Location: SEATTLE
• Compensation: writer to submit required compensation/or proceeds from book
• OK to highlight this job opening for persons with disabilities
• Principals only. Recruiters, please don’t contact this job poster.
• Please, no phone calls about this job!
• Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

Be still my heart.

I love you, Craigslist.

I too had a high IQ and undiagnosed…wonderfulness? Adorable Human Syndrome? (AHS. Don’t laugh. It has its down side. Such as being stalked. Twice.) Possible wheat intolerance (perhaps more on that one day. From my toilet.)

I too have known Colombians and Cubans and been to Philadelphia!!!

I have no idea who the rest of those people are, but I love the colorful names. The only thing missing are the fun nicknames like Charlie ‘The Tuna’ Iannache, Anthony Pungent Pungitore, and Pee Wee Herman.

If you ask me, this is both ridiculous…and strangely compelling.

Really.

A non-paying questionable gangsta scene playa gig that PAYS NOTHING.

And yet…

I’m compelled. Tell me why I SHOULDN’T write him. Because I kind of want to.

p.s.

My favorite part is the self-help videos for high-IQ kids considering mafia activity in poor, remote areas of rural America. The forgotten Appalachia. I get it. I’m into it. I’m on it.

p.p.s.

I know the blog still looks, well, like crap, but I wasn’t kidding when I said this was totally over my head. Thank you, Chad, for your feedback. I passed it onto to someone who may (god willing) be willing and able to fix this (totally innocent, and I cannot even believe my bad luck, and I’m not willing to focus on it. Cleansing karma, cleansing karma, cleansing karma…!!!!!) snafu.

The fix (Permalink Redirect Manager) didn’t work.

***sigh***

We may just have to live with the new ‘layout,’ because – barring outside help – it is seriously beyond me to know how to fix this.

In other news, if my new book is as good as I think it is, I may someday be a successful author with people (a.k.a. peeps, a posse, a crew, an entourage) who manage this website business for me, and if they screw it up like I have, heads will roll!!!

Before I get into the subject matter of the title, let me just say I’ve decided to go with the flow.

In general, I am NOT a ‘go with the flow’ person. I am a ‘battle upstream and crush the will of anyone trying to oppose my agenda’ person…not that I’m proud of that.

At the same time, I am a true believer in nature/nurture, and – as near as I can tell – it’s all nature, baby.

My mother tells a story that I was 18 months old and playpen-bound, when my father and she started some minor remodeling. Apparently they were repainting the living room, and put me (in said playpen) in the room while they worked. (And Dad, feel free to chime in if this is nonsense, as this is not a story where I come out looking like Ms. Awesome Toddler 1974.)

And by day two I was throwing every toy in the pen at them and screaming at the top of my lungs.

This may or may not be true.

However, when I imagine having to sit in a small, enclosed space and watch two people paint and ignore me, the thought of having stuff to throw at them is strangely calming. So I don’t rule it out.

What I’m saying is that I am wired to be HIGHLY STRESSED by the current f-ed up state of the blog (appearance -wise. I am, in fact, cogently aware and grateful that it’s up and visible and more or less intact despite it all, and I’m willfully focusing on that fact. Actually, the last time the blog went nuts I suggested moving to a ‘generic’ format: Black on white, non-de-script font, and UPC codes here and there . Zen and non-committed blog, if you will).

Anyway, nature aside, I’ve decided to embrace the chaos and go with it and trust that it will work out (via the excellent feedback of my genius readers or some other measure) one way or another.

Make it so.

MEANWHILE…the oysters of the world are onto me.

Word has spread.

So if you have an oyster serial killer streak, I suggest that you do not start a blog and commence bragging about it. Never mention the words ‘oyster’ and ‘it puts the cocktail sauce in the basket’ in the same sentence.

‘So, what’s happened?,’ you ask.

Well, I discovered that the even more local grocery store will sell you SIX monster great-great-grandfather oysters for $.20 each (six for $1.25…whatever that works out to) and those oysters are trying to kill me.

Seriously, I am skilled and I am determine, but those bastards will not budge.

So I was working on a dandy that was at least 2″ by 7″ (a monster! The oysters inside border on unmanageable and – this coming from me – unappetizing. Ron Jeremy is fascinating in theory, but not on the half-shell), and I had my typical towel/oyster knife/hand protection stance going, and I got in under the joint and wedged the knife deep and twisted…and felt the cold spray of mud and the hard impact of calcium as the shell shattered and hit me like a bullet.

Seriously.

It split my lip.

And covered my face in mud, but that was secondary.

In short, egg on your face is nothing next to oyster in your lip.

And watch your back, fellow oyster killers.

They’re reading the blogs, and they’re pissed.