Month: March 2019

Manifested

Done for the day, he packed up and walked toward the front door. Seeing Gwen, he veered toward her. Looking up, she said, “Hi, how’re ya?”

“Good.” He stopped at Gwen’s table. “You?”

“The sun’s mostly shining, it’s mostly warm, so I’m good.”

“How’s your car search?”

“Great.” She looked tired around her mouth and her eyes but Gwen grinned. “I was driving down Phoenix Avenue yesterday afternoon. I was thinking of a gold Toyota Camry, and when I stopped at the red light, I looked to the left, and there was a gold Camry for sale in an empty lot on the corner.”

“Wow.”

“I turned and went in there. The owner had just parked it. He’d literally just put it up for sale and was going to go home and post it to eBay. He wanted two thousand. He’s a mechanic and always took care of the car and had all the receipts, and he’d redone the interior.”

“Sounds good.”

“Then, when I was talking to him, he said he was asking two thousand but he liked me so he’d let it go to me for fourteen hundred.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m so pleased that I manifested that for myself. I had a need and I manifested it. And it has a name. He calls the car Goldie.” She showed him a picture of a clean but older gold Camry.

“Good for you, I’m happy for you,” he said. “Congratulations.” As she smiled at him, he said, “I have to go now.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Congratulations again.”

“Thanks.”

“See you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He walked out into the sunlight and paused to think about the conversation, smiling as he realized that Journey’s song, “Don’t Stop Believin'”, had been playing in the background during their conversation.

Inhaling, he looked up at the sun. It was a beautiful day, a little chilly but boldly sunny. Spreading his wings, he rose into the sky and disappeared.

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Flooferone

Flooferone (floofinition) – a pet’s task to escort people around the house to ensure they don’t get lost, hurt, or attacked.

In use: “One important flooferone duty was going to the bathroom with people, and protect them from others. Something or someone breaking in was a constant risk and getting their people was a risk that the humans just didn’t grasp.”

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Floofback

Floofback (floofinition) – feedback or information about reactions to a product, a performance, etc. which is used as a basis for improvement or change.

In use: “His cat enjoyed tummy rubs but gave fast floofback with sharp claws and a quick nip when the tummy-rub session should be ended.”

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Today’s song is one I sing briefly for myself almost every morning because I’ve tortured the lyrics to address my morning coffee ritual.

“Pour some coffee for me.

“Make it black, hot and strong,

“I can drink it all day long.”

Here’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me”, Def Leppard, 1987.

 

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“This coffee tastes like piss.”

I wonder, as many probably do, how my piss tastes. I also pondered whether I’d ever eaten my boogers as a child. Mom has never mentioned it, but many children do, and I was a child who did a lot of things because I was curious.

I’m not sure how I feel about eating baby feces.

This isn’t a gross-out post. Honestly. Perhaps it is, from your point of view. That’s why I bring it up, not to gross you out, but to bring the subjects into the light.

The three subjects, tasting urine, eating boogers, and eating baby poop, are part of a larger subject, the human body, and trends. Thinking about them came from conversations and reading. I finished reading An Instance of the Fingerpost this week. Book One is about a doctor. He mentions tasting people’s urine as part of the examination process in the sixteen hundreds. Yes, I remember from other reading, doctors tasted urine when they were examining patients long before the sixteen hundreds.

I don’t think many doctors do that these days. Most people are probably horrified about it, but I dipped my finger into my stream this morning and gave it a lick. I thought, why not? I’ve tasted my blood, sweat, and tears before, because I wanted to know how they tasted, so why not my pee?

I have ideas about how urine should taste, based on statements like, “This coffee tastes like piss.” I’ve read a few things about it, and we’d discussed it once while talking about survival training. Today’s piss reminded me of a bitters beer. I don’t know if that’s normal. An ongoing cold and head congestion are sabotaging my taste experience this week.

That done, I turned to the question of eating boogers. A friend, talking about his grand-daughter, mentioned that she often picked her nose and not infrequently ingested her boogers. Another friend present, a retired doctor, talked about that and said that some booger eating can be beneficial.

That second person is also the one that talked about eating baby feces. He and I had read about probiotics in infants’ fecal matter, and he’d read other periodicals about how a small amount of baby poop could be therapeutic restoring digestive systems. I pondered what kind of beer or wine would go with baby poop.

Well, I didn’t eat a booger, and I haven’t sampled baby feces yet, that I know. Tasting my piss was my step forward today.

 

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Floofogenesis

Floofogenesis (floofinition) – the development and strengthening of housepets between one another, with their  or both.

In use: “A rescue from a bad situation, the German Shepherd often hid and growled in the early day. Through a long, patient floofogenesis, the dog came to trust her. She silently cried the first time he came into her bedroom, jumped on the bed and settled down to sleep beside her as she read.”

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

 

Songs often connect me to another place and time. In today’s case, I was connected to another person’s connection to elsewhere.

She was on my team at a San Mateo start-up. I’d moved to Oregon by now but went down to meet with my team once a month. We’d become good friends by then. First, she’d worked for my wife at an advertising agency. When a resource action moved them to the unemployment rosters, I hired her for a temp position and then ended up asking her to join my team. We carpooled for a while, too, and appreciated one another’s humor.

I had a radio in my office, the same boom box that was bought for office use in Germany a decade before, the same one I use now when I’m doing yard work. Back visiting my team in 2006, she was sitting in my office when they played The Killers, “When You Were Young”.

She said, “Oh, can you turn that up?”

Sure. I did.

Her expression acquired that almost reverential introspective gaze that people sometimes gain when they’re privately reminiscing. We started talking about the song. She told me that it reminded her of a friend. This is had happened about ten years before. She’d met this great guy, they got married, and then he cheated on her. Her friend became severely depressed and was going to kill herself but he found her and stopped it. They ended up going to counseling. Unlike the song, though, he cheated again. That was it for her. She didn’t kill herself, but she did divorced his ass.

So I remember her remembering this song as she remembers her friend.

I watched the video later to get a better understanding of what the song was about. It’s a long video, and they take their time getting into the music.

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I Notice

I often think about what might come next in my WIP, plot arcs, character growth, scenes, and dialogue. Sometimes I use what’s produced but I frequently go with something that erupts in my head when I sit down to write.

Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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