Friends, I’m 63 years old. Post-menopausal. Almost out to pasture. 😉
Last night though, I had the damnedest dream about a steamy (and I do mean STEAMY) romp with Owen Wilson.
The two of us couldn’t keep our hands off one another. I’m blushing even as I write about it.
The question is “why him?” I mean, he’s adorable and goofy, and a Texan to boot, but I’ve never even entertained a mildly romantic fantasy about Owen, let alone a full-blown x-rated one. Now, Huey Lewis is a totally different, and age appropriate, matter.
Generally, Studly Doright and I are on the same page when it comes to movies. We do have our particular viewing niches, though. He tends toward movies that are big on sophomoric humor, while I enjoy science fiction more than he does. We can usually compromise, and often do the quid pro quo thing where we alternate movie choices. “I’ll watch Dumb and Dumber with you tonight if we can watch Star Wars, A New Hope, tomorrow.”
Occasionally there’ll be a movie he really wants to see that no amount of quid pro quoing will satisfy. For example, I do not like war movies. They make me furious and anxious. Okay, one could argue that many sci-fi films are nothing more than futuristic war movies, but by their very nature they are elevated above the nitty gritty of say, Saving Private Ryan, a film that haunted me for years.
Last night, though, we decided to watch 1917. I’d heard so many great things about the making of the film, and didn’t veto Studly’s choice as I normally would any other war movie.
Did it make me angry? Yes. War is an abomination. I hate the glorification of war that is part of many films. But there was none of that here. My anger wasn’t at the movie itself, but at war in general.
Did it make me anxious? Incredibly so. I almost could not breathe in certain scenes. But, I did like this film, I actually liked it more than Studly did.
The cinematography is incredible. I know nothing of movie making, but apparently the people in charge on 1917 did.
Studly Doright and his co-worker, Scout, look over the day’s agenda. He says she’s taking direction fairly well, and seldom questions his judgement. She also works for room, board, and meals, so that’s a plus. Her bonus pay consists of treats on demand and an occasional scratch behind the ear.
I applied for the job, but lost out due to ergonomic and spatial constraints: I cannot arrange myself on the desk like Scout can.
Today, I wrote 1,853 words in my novel. That’s a really good day for me. I’m still well shy of 60,000 words, but I am going to get it done. Yay!
The biggest accomplishment of the day, though, was that one of my characters said something that made me cry. I mean big tears rolled out of my eyes then down my cheeks and I had to stop and collect myself before continuing with the tale.
I cry fairly easily. It’s not uncommon for me to sob while reading a novel, but until today, I’d been fairly well prepared for anything my own characters might say. It’s not the first time a character has surprised me, but it is the first time the surprise has resulted in tears.
On Facebook a couple of days ago I asked friends what books they loved, but would NOT recommend people read during a pandemic. I started the conversation off with a couple of my personal favorites.
First on my list is The Stand by Stephen King. Every now and then I reread King’s tale of a biological weapon unleashed on an unsuspecting and unprepared world. The weapon, in the form of an awful disease nicknamed “Captain Trips” wipes out all but about 4% of the population worldwide.
Of course, being vintage Stephen King, supernatural forces also come into play. As if a global pandemic wasn’t enough. Every time I’ve read the book I’ve ended up with either an upper respiratory virus or a digestive illness, and become fairly certain that I’ve contracted Captain Trips. I definitely will NOT read it in the near future.
Another book I enjoyed and will at some point reread once we’re past the current crisis is Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel. Her novel follows several individuals who have survived a rapidly spreading disease and are trying to make their way in a new kind of society. Multiple story lines explore how different characters cope with the initial panic, the decimation of the population, and the aftermath of the pandemic years later. It’s well written, creatively imagined. and thought-provoking. I just can’t read it right now.
There are a few more I could list, but I want your best DON’T READ RIGHT NOW BOOKS. These should be books you really like, but probably would just ramp up anxiety if read right now. And I’m changing my mind even as I write this. Maybe you LIKE to read books that parallel our current situation. I’d like your thoughts, as well. Ready, set, go.
On this Tuesday in quarantine I’ve discovered the long lost tv remote control that Studly Doright claimed he’d looked high and low for. It was in plain sight on the table next to his recliner. “Huh! What do you know?” he said.
In addition, I located a set of headphones that he swore he’d already searched for. These weren’t on top of the end table, but inside it. Again, he said, “Huh! What do you know?”
I’ve had my favorite Irish breakfast tea with a splash of almond milk and a bit of honey. Now, until a few weeks ago I’d have laughed at the idea of any kind of milk in my hot tea, but it’s quite good and for the rest of the morning I’ve spoken exclusively in an Irish accent. I’m better at Scottish accents, but as far as I can tell there’s no Scottish breakfast tea in the house. Maybe I should look on the table beside Studly’s chair.
I’ve worked on the novel a bit. I wrote a thousand words yesterday, but only 500 this morning. I’m having trouble getting my characters to shut up and move along. And I know I need less talk and more ambiance to flesh out the book.
For lunch I ordered takeout from Sweet Pea in Tallahassee. I worry about my favorite vegan place during this time. I tip extra every time I buy a meal there, but I know their business is probably slow right now. Be sure and support your local mom and pop businesses if you can.
My laundry is as caught up as it’s ever been. I do at least one load of towels every day on the “sanitize” settings, and that takes a considerable amount of time.
I tried to take a nap, but my brain won’t stop trying to solve the problem I’m having with the novel, so I picked up my phone and began writing this post. I wonder if the solution to my characters’ issues could be found on the table next to Studly’s chair? It’s worth taking a look, I guess.
Today, Studly Doright went into his office in Tallahassee, gathered up all of his essentials and returned home to Doright Manor from where he will office as long as necessary. The cat and I have mixed feelings about this.
On the one hand we’re relieved that he won’t be interacting with potential carriers of COVID-19, and that he’ll be around to share his sense of humor and his “don’t worry, be happy” mentality.
On the other hand, Scout and I are wondering how we’ll stay out of his hair during the work day and how we’ll sneak in our snuggly naps. We’re just going to have to learn to sleep with our eyes open, I suppose.