I've not been here blogging because I've been running lights and sound for yet another play. It ends this Sunday. Then I'm going to back away from the theater group for a while. It's trying to swallow me whole. There's always some work that needs to be done down there, and I'm apparently like Annie in Oklahoma! -- I can't say no.
So it's best that I get some space for me. I have several writing projects circling me, waiting for a free moment to swoop in. I'm a month behind on the family newsletter, although I intend to catch over the next two weekends. At least that's the plan. I'm behind in a lot of stuff; it's hard to keep up when you're losing three hours a night to rehearsal. My house is slowly sinking in a state that can only be described as Health Department Orange Alert. Not only could you write in the dust on my coffee and end tables, you could also plant corn and expect a good harvest. Yesterday the sheets on my bed declared themselves emancipated and went to Paris to explore Cubism. Yes, I know that's silly. After all, Spain is where Cubism is most prominent today, but you try telling that to headstrong sheets.
As for email, I download it and promise myself to read it someday. I really will read each missive that you have sent to me. They're all precious to me. I print them out and paste them to my body, that's how precious.
And I have four books that need to be read: Dead Days of Summer by Carolyn Hart, Bio Rescue by S.L. Viehl, Fortress in the Eye of Time by C.J. Cherryh and one whose title escapes me at this moment. They're piled up on my bedside table along with a stack of last month's and this month's magazines.
I also have bills to pay, accounts to do, and a play that needs to be sent off to another publisher so that they have a chance to reject it, too. And I'd like to plant some flowers and do some yard work before my lawn is declared a nature preserve and the Republicans vote to drill for oil there.
To top it off, it's spring, and I don't want to do any of this. I want to find me a like-minded love and run off to the islands and bask in the sun for a few weeks. I want to get bored on the beach and sip cold fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. I want to listen to the ocean and see if it's calling my name or is it that taco stand up the street.
Anyway, that's what happening with me. What's happening with you? Are you out there or are you frolicking in a field somewhere with your love? I hope the latter, but if not, you're always welcome here at 51313 Harbor Street.
23 comments:
I am here! I expect the rest of us are too. Frolicking is for the young and those who can afford it. I, on the other hand, just prance a little on the way to work. Once I get there all fun stops and life goes on. And Reading? I wish! Try homework with the kids instead, that is sure to crush all of those frolicking notions. But dream all you want to in the 5 min on the way to work. Have a great day.
Roen
Faithful reader Roen! I think I like you best. The others, who are obviously out there having a life, are out of the will! But I will be posting from Knaves and you will be rewarded.
Waitaminute! I read you faithfully too. I want a reward too. :)
You have one, Slim -- you get to read my blog ... :)
I'd comment sooner, but your list of things to do makes me feel guilty, like I should be doing something, too. Oh, well...I guess I'll just go frolic some more...
I was hoping for a cash reward.
If Slim gets a cash reward, I want one, too! Frolicking in northern CA ain't cheap!
Crystal, you're getting to frolic? I'm both jealous and happy for you. One more emotion and my head will explode!
Hope is a good thing, Slim. You just keep hoping things like that. I'm sure it's good for you. Or something like that. If not, the disappointment will surely make you a better person! :)
What about the cash?
Yes, when I'm not commenting on your blog, I'm frolicking like mad, like a crazy person, I tell you!
Sorry, Crystal, no cash here. Just sincere good wishes for your happy frolicking! Well, wishes for photos of your frolicking is what I meant to say.
Mad people frolic? I thought that was more in the lines of a "fit" or something like that.
Frenzied Feline used to frolic, but I guess she doesn't since she started letting life happen to her. I'm not even sure how often she visits here anymore. We'll just see how it takes her to respond since she gave ER that test on her blog.
Maybe you should define what you mean by "frolic". Maybe it means something different in 51313 Harbor Street-world...
No cash? Do you realize how your comment numbers would jump if you paid us to comment???
Frolic is a hard word to define. If you frolic, then you know. If you don't frolic, then you don't know. It's a Zen thing.
Hmm. Obviously you missed me begging for money in an earlier post. I'm afraid I'm simply a cash-poor love machine.
By the way, did anyone else notice that Roen prances? I think that's a lovely image and must give her lab assistants something to think about as she prances toward them holding beakers of highly explosive chemicals. :)
I don't know Roen very well, so I didn't know if it would be polite to point out her prancing...but since you brought it up..why is she carrying explosive beakers toward her assistants? That would make me nervous whether she was prancing, stalking, making a mad dash or approaching in a cold, methodical matter.
I think you're avoiding defining "frolic". I think you know exactly what it means.
And now, I'm shutting the computer down so I can throw my money recklessly at groceries and dog food.
Roen works in a lab, Crystal. She workes with all sorts of dangerous chemicals and germs. She's a lot of fun to be around. No, really, she is.
I do know, but it's a secret we're keeping from non-frolickers.
You wild thing!
First off...I was away. I looked but couldn't comment. I am so faithful in fact, I read you on my vacation. I even got some postcards. (I forgot your address however) but they are coming forthwith. :)
G., I can see why several Redbulls are in your future.
Really, FF, the world needs more frolicking. I think it would be a better place.
Woohoo! Postcards! Thanks, Michelle. And dare I ask what you thought of Passion? Nope. I don't dare. :)
Oh...you don't have to ask. It was my reading of choice on the ride over. I'll let you know, later...you can be certain. :)
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