Wednesday, September 1st, 2010 - The DEADLINE for completion of Goin' Down in Flames - the ongoing adventures of Georgina Spelvin.
Oh there are bits and pieces floating around all over my laptop like the wispy hairs too short to be captured in my top-knot that blow in my face and drive me nuts. Will it ever get scrapped together into some sort of comprehensive whole? Will Manny Ramerez... oh never mind.
Well, damnit, I'm RETIRED.
I don't know what I do all day, but it takes me all day to do it. Yes, we spend the morning lazing about with the papers and our rspective caffine hits: coffee for John - for me, tea. Then it's hi-ho, off to the gym, a fortuitous five minutes away. Welll, John goes to the gym. I go to the spa. He cycles energetically to nowhere while I perform my exotic regenerative routine.
To wit: I baste my body in Jergin's lotion and place it in a 110 degree sauna for 10 to 15 minutes, during which time I stretch it, wiggle it, and rub it where it hurts - which is almost everywhere, of course. Not bad hurt. Just the 74 years of service general complaints. Nicely sweated, I proceed to the ballet barre, looking as if I've already done some hard stuff. Whilst my hubbylover John stretches vigerously (an oxymoron - but more of that later) and then does a hundred - count them - hundred scruntchies, I hang out at the barre.
She can still play just about any song you might like to sing, but she can't tell you what day it is. What the hell. She doesn't need to know what day it is. I tell her, "Honey, these are the fuckit years!"
Days I don't have to meet someone for lunch, I have a crisp, cold pear sliced into thin pieces with little matching slices of Madrigal (Unborn Swiss) cheese that I can nibble with my left hand while my right hand works corssword and soduku puzzles. Ah, heaven.
I haven't even started.
Oh there are bits and pieces floating around all over my laptop like the wispy hairs too short to be captured in my top-knot that blow in my face and drive me nuts. Will it ever get scrapped together into some sort of comprehensive whole? Will Manny Ramerez... oh never mind.
Well, damnit, I'm RETIRED.
I don't know what I do all day, but it takes me all day to do it. Yes, we spend the morning lazing about with the papers and our rspective caffine hits: coffee for John - for me, tea. Then it's hi-ho, off to the gym, a fortuitous five minutes away. Welll, John goes to the gym. I go to the spa. He cycles energetically to nowhere while I perform my exotic regenerative routine.
To wit: I baste my body in Jergin's lotion and place it in a 110 degree sauna for 10 to 15 minutes, during which time I stretch it, wiggle it, and rub it where it hurts - which is almost everywhere, of course. Not bad hurt. Just the 74 years of service general complaints. Nicely sweated, I proceed to the ballet barre, looking as if I've already done some hard stuff. Whilst my hubbylover John stretches vigerously (an oxymoron - but more of that later) and then does a hundred - count them - hundred scruntchies, I hang out at the barre.
Literally. I let it hangas loose as I can and jiggle it in various positions. This I alternate with posturings that pull it all as far apart as possible in lines as long and graceful as I can produce. Yes, Ballet. Though I'd never a prayer of getting anywhere near the positions demanded for proficiency, just trying for them has kept it all where it should be and in pretty much the proportions I still dream of. Not bad for home brew.
So, after the gym, it's time for lunch. I try not to make lunch plans for more than once or twice a week, but I also like schmoozing with my buds. Monday's I take my pal, Joyce, to lunch. She will be 86 Tuesday, September 7th, so we'll do lunch that day instead of Monday next week. What an amazing woman. She was the "orchestra" for the improve company, War Babies. John was a founding member. Here's a link to a U-toob of them. You can see Joyce - making it up as they go just like the actors. Instant opera!
She can still play just about any song you might like to sing, but she can't tell you what day it is. What the hell. She doesn't need to know what day it is. I tell her, "Honey, these are the fuckit years!"
Days I don't have to meet someone for lunch, I have a crisp, cold pear sliced into thin pieces with little matching slices of Madrigal (Unborn Swiss) cheese that I can nibble with my left hand while my right hand works corssword and soduku puzzles. Ah, heaven.
Now, here I have the afternoon and early evening to write - one would think. So I open up Dilbert the Dell - and well, first I have to check the email - right? Right.Ne xt thing I know, it's time for dinner. John cooks Monday through Friday - as he did when I had my day job. I do weekends, using up the leftovers from all the deliciaous meanls he's made all week. His Italian half loves to cook. The Irish half is happy I like washing dishes.
Cash Cab is in the backgroud as I write. Jeopardy will accompany John's kitchen expoits, Wheel of Fortune will entertain us through dinner. Antique Road Show, or Funniest Home Videos will waft into the kitchen as I do the clean up. Then it's Animal Kingdom or - Sundays - From the Top at Carnegie Hall - my favorite show. That's pretty much our TV schedule except during baseball season.
I reserve an hour or two for reading a real book in the comfort of my bed beforeI dive into the Disneyland of my subconscious.
Now, is that not the most exciting life you've ever heard of or WHAT? But that's why Goin' Down in Flames seems to be going down in flames.
3 comments:
OK, so now I'm up to your Atlantic City stories. Still enjoying it greatly (though cringing at certain parts of it, as I went through withdrawal myself - cocaine - twenty years ago.)
What I know about publishing would fit in a thimble, so perhaps this is a stupid question, but... Did you shop the book around to major publishers, or just decide to self-publish from the get-go? I can't imagine too many passing on your book. As I say, I know very little about the business, but I would guess that your name alone would sell at least enough copies to recoup costs, and the story itself is truly an engaging and fun read.
Love this. So many people say, "I could never retire! What would I DO all day?" As one who's not retired but who has been "between" jobs (while financially secure), I say, "You'd be amazed how the days fill themselves."
I completely understand how you've missed your "deadline."
Who needs a Heaven when such things exist in this world?---R. Nathan
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