Done. Oh, yes, friends, I’m done. I finished yesterday afternoon, looked up, looked around, and thought oh, that’s it…I’m done now. It was somewhat anti-climactic. No balloons fell from the ceiling. No confetti. No banners.

But there was that quiet satisfaction – mixed with incredulity – in knowing that I made it through. That I now have a ninety-three page novel, though you should picture me making air quotes when I say that. I had some time to edit during the afternoon, and then I decided that I was well and truly finished.

I had dinner alone in the dining room. Very alone. There were eleventy-zillion people here over the weekend for that string quartet competition, but they all left on Monday morning. And now the place is pretty much empty. There’s at least one other arts program person here – I met him on Saturday morning – but I haven’t seen him in days. There are a good forty mathematicians and they eventually showed up, too, but I rather think that they’ve got a ‘no arts program girls allowed’ rule when it comes to the dinner table.

Not that I’m complaining. Some residencies have been rather frenetic – lots of people, lots of conversation. That sort of thing. Busy all the time. This one is quite quiet. Not laid-back – can’t say that after spending the long weekend writing a 20,462 word novel – but quiet. Not in a bad way, either.

I’ve got a couple more days here (and twenty-nine dollars left in my meal plan – how did that happen?). Now that the frenzy of the 3-Day Novel Contest is behind me, I’m going to spend some time thinking about my writing – my regular writing – and working on it. I’m going to print out the manuscript at Community Services today, track somebody down to sign the witness statement for the contest, and mail it. Then I’m going to do the walk of shame and go to the Registrar’s Office to add money to the meal plan (I never have a satisfactory explanation as to how I manage to eat my way through it so quickly).

And tonight? Dinner with @babybanff and family. I’m really looking forward to that!

I’m going to spend the morning hanging out in the reading room at the Paul D. Fleck Library. It’s quite fancy. Not at all like the way it was when it was in the basement. Technically, I’m writing, not reading, but the librarians aren’t wise to me yet. I have my ebook with me in case I’m challenged by them, though: “ARE YOU READING? YOU BETTER BE READING!”

“Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber, ma’am!”

• One (1) Twitter account (with internet connection, obvsly);
• Snacks, for sustenance;
• Coffee, to play along with the over-caffeinated writer ethos.

Optional supplies include:

• Season 3 of Mad Men  (or entertainment of your liking) to entertain yourself so you aren’t tempted to virtually distract the writer  (ie. “Human Centipede is playing at the Plaza!?”, or randomly tweeting the word “CAKE!!”)
• A list of cheers to work from  is helpful.

Strongly Discouraged: One very specific cat who will require a run to the ER at hour 32 after he fell into a bucket of paint. Ahem.

Note: The author appears to have kicked the sad sandwich when it was already down with this tweet:

Eating world’s most delicious panini and reading survivor accounts of plane crashes. #3dnc, @thebanffcentre style. Sun Sep 5 13:11:27 2010

World’s most delicious panini????



You will experience intense sensations such as envy at the environment

and the food

and the mathematicians…

It is important to put aside these feelings of envy and stay focused (CAKE!!!) and remember: You are there to support the author! Virtually.   Especially when the lovely Lectio at Lectio.ca tweets the grand finale:

Then one may pop a little with pride.  Congratulations, Heather!!!

The writing is going well. I’ve hit forty pages (double spaced, twelve point font, which is more or less the standard for the competition) and I’m still going. There’s a day and a half left, and from what I can see, I’m on track to finish. Barring catastrophe, I’ll finish.

The Banff International String Quartet Competition wraps up today, too. I haven’t been able to see any of the performances – what with the three days to write a novel and all – but people here are really enjoying it, and from what they’re saying, it’s been a very successful venture this year.

It’s cold and raining this morning. I had my breakfast in Vistas – scrambled eggs, yum – and read for a little bit – Edna Ferber’s Fanny Herself – and went for a short walk. The pink gloves are just the ticket, as is the woolen scarf I brought. I can see snow on top of Sulphur Mountain and Cascade Mountain when the clouds clear, and I think it’s going to be a chilly day.

Suits me just fine. The plan is to pour it on, writing-wise, and try to make it to seventy-five pages (lofty goal) or sixty-five pages (reasonable goal).

Back to work for me!

At breakfast, listened to aging musicians spinning tales of the hikes up the mountains they’d taken and would be taking today, though to look at them, I’d have to say it unlikely. Unless they were planning the gondola-style hike I took.

Me? Working steadily, if a bit slowly. The original outline was scrapped after about an hour of writing, and I’ve started fresh. I hesitate to say that it looks promising, but it’s going well.

I think. I’m beginning to fear that three solid months of term paper research and writing is having an inhibiting effect.

Banff is a nice place to amble around, though. The weather was good, and there were a lot of people taking in the sights. I went up the gondola on Sulphur Mountain last night, too. It’s one of those touristy things to do, and the view is always worth it.

I mean, how often do you get to zoom up to the top of a mountain? Not so often. And at the top, I had myself some hot chocolate.

It was a tad nerve-wracking on the way back, though. The gondola cars had stopped…I never did find out if it was intentional or if something had broken down. I’ve heard that it takes a good three hours to walk down, and frankly, if I walked down, it would probably take thirty-three hours.

Fortunately, though, things were back up by the time I was ready to go back down.

So I’m back at the Banff Centre! The Kinnear Building is finished, and I’ll post some pictures soon. The library has moved over, and it’s pretty darn amazing. The Banff String Quartet Competition is running right now, and there are a lot of foursome walking around. Go figure. At lunch today, I listened in on an impassioned debate on the kinds of wood you can use to make a bow and the benefits of oxidation. Dark sound versus…the other kind of sound. I must admit that most of it went right over my head, but it’s nifty to hear discussions like that. Lots of people are out to watch, too, and they look like they’re havin g a good time. I’ll be skipping the concerts, though – on account of writing a novel in seventy-two hours this weekend.

There won’t be much in the way of posting from me during the weekend. My zombie love story (but not in the way you think…but sort of the way you think) needs to be written, and I’m bound and determined to turn in a completed manuscript by the end of Labour Day weekend.

In the meantime, you can read my latest short story: ‘I Bet I Can Find a Million People Who Hate Slab Cakes‘ over at Hobart Pulp.

I’m hoping to finish the outline this evening, and then get off to bed early…because tomorrow, the writing begins! It’s wonderful to be back at the Banff Centre again.

Rule #1 of The Friday sammich is this:  You do not get a Friday sammich on Thursday.  The sammich is a creature of habit and it counts on, no.. it lives for being a sammich on Friday.  What will happen if you have a Friday Sammich on Thursday is you’ll have yourself one very sad sammich.

(Turkey & Gouda)

I tried my best to console the Thursday Sadwhich.   We discussed how signs of zombies! I showed it the outline for a story I’ve wanted to write forever  (Thanks Heather!!) and I read to it (A supposedly fun thing I’ll never do again, by David Foster Wallace.)  Alas, my attempts were moot because the Thursday saddwich was sad.

It really wanted just to be left alone.

Poor Sammich.

Sammich’s just aren’t the same without Heather.   Lacking the great company of a Friday Sammich with Heather  I chose to have cake.  Cake  which is a most excellent stand-in for a Friday sammich on Thursday because (a) iNot unlike the Friday Sammich it is layers,  and (b) it is chocolate.  While chocolate doesn’t make great conversation or inspire you to write daily or put a bounce in your step,  it is still chocolate… and it was delicious.

It was a gorgeous sunny day today and surprisingly warm after a few days of straight-up cold.  As I took the incolsable Friday Sammich on Thursday for a walk, look at what I saw around the corner: Evidence of hoodlums! Dang kids today (giggle).  Hope some (*snicker) one gives them a good (tee hee) finger shakin!

The other bad news is that the film thing fell through. Again. Three times now. I gather that this is very much an LA thing, and while I had always thought that Jack Bauer was the LA thing, promises of short movie deals that then fall through are more the reality than running around yelling ‘DAMMIT’ and ‘WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS’ and saving the world in less than a day. Still. I suppose either could happen…just not to me. Yet.

But. The good news is that I finished the gloves for my trip to the Banff, which is good because it’s quite chilly there right now. And the better news is that I’m going to the Banff Centre. And the money I’d been mentally saving for a trip to LA for the shoot and a swanky dress for the Oscars? I’m going to spend it on fudge.

That’s really the way it goes, I guess. You get the not so great news with the pretty great news, and you just take it as it comes. The film thing? It’s certainly not the end of the world. I’m disappointed, but there will be better things, I’m sure. And it says something when three directors say they’ll take on the story but have to pull out because of time commitments and whatnot. It was really nifty to even get the offer, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the direction my writing is taking.

Tomorrow, I’ll be on the bus for Banff. The 3-Day Novel Contest runs this weekend, and I’ll be tucked away in the Banff Centre, typing ’til my fingers bleed…well, not quite. But by the end of the three days, I’ll probably be running around the campus saying ‘DAMMIT’ and ‘WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS’ and trying desperately to finish the manuscript.

Jocelyn the Wonder Sammich Reporter will be guest posting through the weekend. I’ll be posting, too, but as I’m supposed to be writing a thirty-five thousand word novel in three days, my blog posts will probably leave something to be desired. Or be utterly incoherent. So enjoy, and say hi to Jocelyn, and wish me luck for a completed novel manuscript!

They didn’t take all that long, owing to their small size. I’ll be taking them to the Banff Centre with me – they’re for @babybanff, and I think they’ll be just the thing. It gets a bit chilly in the mountains: snow in the upper elevations over the weekend. I’m trying to finish knitting myself a pair of gloves for the same reason. I’m up to the pinky finger on one glove. Don’t know if I’ll finish on time, but I’m trying!

Meanwhile, the writing of the 3-Day Novel Contest outline has started. I’m not going to do a highly coordinated outline, though. This is more a rough sketch of where I want the story to go, and what it’s going to be about. It may or may not include character outlines. Probably not. My strategy is going to be to give the story a good deal of thought, and to then let the development of the characters and plot move forward in a fairly organic manner.

I’m getting excited!

In other news, I love being on vacation. I’ve been on a serious loaf – watching dvds, knitting, and surfing the web a lot. I can’t shake the feeling that I should be answering calls or writing up reports or researching a term paper. I think that feeling is slowly dissipating. I’ve resisted the urge to check my work email. Well. I checked it once, but that was Friday night, and there was only spam, so it only counts for half, right?

I got a call from a senior librarian at Athabasca University – that’s where I’m doing my MA – thanking me for a card I’d sent with my books. It’s a distance ed program, so the library ships your books out to you by mail, and you send them back the same way. I thought it would be nice to include a thank you card with the last batch, since I’d requested a lot of books for the final term paper (and lots of them were pretty heavy). I guess that tickled the librarians, and they wanted to know how my research was going.

Well. When I told him about my post-modernism course, he had some good suggestions. But when I said that I thought my next reading course would be in Marxism and neo-Marxist cultural theory, he got quite excited…evidently, he’d done quite a lot of research in that area for his own degree, and he said he could help me with the reading list, and then gave me some titles to think about. And then? I got some handy tips on the 7th edition of the MLA handbook (no more underlining!). If I ever go Turabian, he’s got me covered.

It probably doesn’t help that I’ve been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes back to back to back, but I couldn’t shake the image of Giles talking to me on the phone. Sans accent and discussion of creepy demons, though I suppose Turabian sounds like some kind of mystical being…

A quiet weekend. No homework. No writing – I’ve been vegged out in front of the TV with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Lots of it. And knitting. I love being on vacation. I have a feeling I’ll start reading for my postmodernism course tomorrow, though. I keep eying the stack of textbooks and thinking about the twelve thousand word paper due at the end of the course, and then I keep thinking that I should start the reading now.

And I’ll start outlining for the 3-Day Novel Contest tomorrow…just one week to go! I’m really looking forward to a return trip to the Banff Centre. I tacked an extra day onto the residency to make it a week; gives me time to explore the new library and stare out window at mountain ranges while eating dinner (and thinking of Anne McCaffrey’s Crystal Singer books, of course – for some reason, they always comes to mind when I’m in the mountains). I’m hoping to finish Don Quixote by the time I leave – if I can put aside the dvd watching, I think I’ll probably be finished soon.

Miserable cold and wet weather here. It snowed in Banff today. I booked a three hour moose safari for the first day in Banff, but I fear it may be in jeopardy if this weather continues. Hmm.

Day one of vacation: reading (finished ‘Half Portions‘ by Edna Ferber), reading (started ‘Don Quixote‘) and watching episodes of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ (starting season two this evening) while knitting.

Heavenly.

Standard selections. We opted for spring rolls, dumplings, lemon chicken, fried rice…and decided we’d be adventurous and order one strange sounding thing without asking any questions.

Deep fried sesame shrimps toast. Frankly, a thousand times more delicious than I could have predicted.

We nommed, and we nommed, and we drank many tiny little cups of Chinese tea, and then we sighed, and leaned back, and decided that our lives were forever changed by the shrimps toast.

And then Jocelyn went home, and I ambled on back to the apartment…

…to begin SEVENTEEN DAYS OF VACATION, BABY!!

Don’t forget to keep duking the vote for the story. If you’ve voted…heck, vote again! Vote at work! Vote on your phone! Vote, people, vote!

In other awesome news, the short film project is back on. I shall be googling ‘how to write a screenplay’ tonight. More details as I have ‘em…but for now:

SQUEEEEEEEEE!!!

She hadn’t, though she did very early this morning, though I think 3am is still the dead of night. She called me this morning to tell me, positively euphoric. Downright giddy. It was funny to listen to her giggling about it.

There’s still time to vote for my short story, and you can definitely vote more than once. I mean, I have, so why can’t you?

And that, folks, was Wednesday. I’m going to spend the evening knitting and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer just because I can (and because I have no homework!).

I have three days of work this week, and then I’m back on vacation for fourteen days. I have a feeling I’ll probably wish I’d just taken the full three weeks off, but this should help keep the workload a little bit more balanced for my return.

There’s still time to vote for the Bartleby-Snopes story of the month. Mine’s the one with genitalia in the title. Somebody’s left a comment on the poll about it being sophomoric. I’m not sure I agree with that. Juvenile, maybe. But sophomoric? Dang! Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.

Anyhoo. The poll seems to reset its cookies once a day, so you can vote again, if you like. And vote often. That Ron Yates dude has a thirty vote lead on me.

Such was Tuesday.

Also? My short story, Wei and the Penis Bin, was put up on Bartleby-Snopes. Yeah. Go read it. It’s not as naughty as it sounds.

The best part, though? I twittered to William Gibson about it, since it was his link to a photo essay that got me going on the story.

HE TWITTERED BACK.

And he liked the story.

Swoon.

And when I eagerly replied that I thought I would frame the tweet – or perhaps immortalize it in cross-stitch – he replied AGAIN: “Get it bronzed!“.

Will do.

If you have a moment, I hope you’ll read the story. There’s a voting button at the bottom of the list of entries for story of the month; if you like it…?

Enjoy. I really liked the image of Flesh Forward – so much so that I think I’ll probably end up returning to it, at some point – and I had fun with the story.

I decided to clamber down to the small island in the river – there’s a bit of a land bridge to it, and I thought there wouldn’t be too many people there. Boy, was I wrong.

I should have left earlier, because all the comfortable logs and rocks were gone, and I didn’t think to bring a festival chair with me. I found a spot (and ended up moving to a different spot, after discovering that I was sitting next to the world’s most obnoxious kid) and settled in.

There were a lot of people up by the bridge, and live drumming, too.

(sorry – that one is a bit shaky. Mosquitoes.)

The spheres were dropped from the middle of the bridge and guided by kayakers. They didn’t seem all that impressive at first – still too light to really see how they were illuminated. But as darkness fell, they began to glow.

I really think the kayakers were having fun. And it was fun to watch them slipping through the spheres in the dark, calling to each other.

It was really quite something. The mosquitoes were out in force, and I had to giggle at the horrified shrieks of some teenagers when they realized that there weren’t birds swooping around overhead, but bats. I stayed until the last of the spheres had disappeared around the bend of the river, and then I went to find my way back up onto the park path. Let me tell you, the island at night is a bit harder to navigate than it is at dusk. I’d brought a flashlight, thankfully, and I found a little trail through the middle of the bushes. A lot of people were skirting around the edge of the shore, though.

Not a good idea. For as much as the river was supposed to be a part of last night’s project, it certainly made sure that we knew it was there. In the dark, there was an anguished wail: “I lost my shoe!”

And then, even more piteous (followed by a splash): “Oh, no…the river!”

The river, indeed. Thanks for a good night, Creatmosphere (and Bow River). You brought a lot of happiness to a lot of people last night.

Yup. Still with the smoke. There’s some cautiously optimistic talk of the wind shifting and some rain to get rid of it, but I’m not hearing much in the way of “oh, we’ll have those forest fires put out soon.” I have a feeling it’s going to take a while for everything to get sorted out.

So. Four day weekend. I’m very pleased with it, even if my eyes are scratchy. Coughing a bit, too – me and the cat are feeling rather wheezy. I’m working on the last of the term paper today (hurray!).

The River of Light thing is this evening, too, so I’ll be heading out to see it. I had hoped to go downtown to get my iPod battery replaced (there are people who do this, it seems, without you having to go to an Apple store and send your beloved pod away…) but between the smoke and the term paper, it seemed like a better idea to stay in. I think I’ll be doing that next weekend – because next weekend, I’ll be on vacation FOR REALS!

Hokay. Going to finish that term paper now.

I’ve got Monday and Tuesday off, so this is a four day weekend for me. Four day weekend! Hurray! What I’ll be doing? Finishing the term paper.

And finish it, I shall. I think the edits are finished; just need to type them in. The conclusion and the introduction need to be rewritten, but that’s not such a problem. I’d like to have the paper finished by Saturday and then leave it for a few days – but I’ll probably be so ready to be done with it that I’ll hand it in before the weekend is through.

I went for my Friday sandwich, of course. The sulky sandwich girls have accepted me as one of own, I think – possibly because I tip my change into the tip jar. I once worked there – briefly, as a sulky sandwich girl – and I was telling them today about how hot it used to be. “No air conditioning,” I said.

“Oh, my god,” she said. “That’s, like, awful.”

Oh, it was.

How glad I am that the days of being a sulky sandwich girl are well behind me. I work hard at what I do now, but I don’t risk my fingertips with dull knives or scald myself with steam – though the photocopier can be a bit vicious at times. It wasn’t an awful job, but I’ll admit that I wasn’t all that good as a sulky sandwich girl, and I still feel a bit apologetic, thinking about the many mediocre sandwiches I served. I wasn’t half bad at cappucinos, but I never did learn to make designs in the foam.

It was a short-lived career for me. I abandoned it to become a towel girl at a health club, which I was marginally better at doing.

Those were the days.

I’m going to stay in this weekend and watch the smoke (and do the dratted term paper).

Dear British Columbia,

Kindly retrieve your forest fire smoke; it’s in our front lawn again. We’re sure the campfire-like smell is delightful to some, but it’s getting hard to see across the road up in Edmonton and Calgary feels that it’s had enough. Red Deer isn’t talking about it, but that’s Red Deer for you.

As compensation, we demand that you send us your finest tomatoes and cucumbers. We will also accept radishes but not broccoflower. In return, we will continue making gasoline so that you can continue to zip about on your scooters (that is what West Van people do for fun, isn’t it?).

Sincerely and with kind regards,
Alberta

Still not done with the term paper. I’m sorry. I’m probably just as sick of talking about it as you are reading about it. But it’s getting much closer to the end, and then I can go back to talking about the weather and whatnot.

I got some good news last night – Hobart Pulp will be publishing ‘I Bet I Can Find a Million People Who Hate Slab Cakes’ this fall. Hurray!

And don’t forget that Bartleby-Snopes will print ‘Wei and the Penis Bin’ next week. Don’t worry. I’ll remind you.

I promise.

Still editing the term paper. I’d really like to finish it by Friday night. Or Saturday afternoon. I want to be done with it and never think of it again.

I had coffee with my publisher – Evolve is doing quite well. The second printing happened, and he said that they didn’t even unwrap the books at the distributor’s – it went straight off the skids and out. A third printing is looking very likely, and Barnes and Noble will be promoting it in the fall. Mondo exciting for me.

I’ve been asked to write for Evolve 2, as well. It’s not a lock, but being asked to write is a very good thing. The story still needs to stand on its own merit, but I’m determined to knock the editor’s socks off. I’ll try, anyways.

And there’s nothing like coffee with your publisher (and being able to say that) who has a folder with the name of your latest project on it. Seriously. Also nothing like being told that you need to be writing more, and more quickly – that also has an impact. I’m under instructions to finish the term paper quickly and get back to work…which I’ll do!

There do seem to be a lot of bunnies hopping around lately. I suppose it’s because they do what, well, bunnies do. I remember hearing that there’s a seven year cycle for coyote and rabbit populations – something about how they’re in sync with each other…so I suspect we’ll soon be seeing more coyotes soon. There’s certainly no shortage of bunnies for them.

I’m firmly on the side of the bunnies, of course. They’re so much easier to photograph. The chance of having your leg gnawed off is much, much less. I mean, there’s still a risk of that, but given that the bunnies I’ve seen are busy eating petunias and grass, I think I’ll take my chances with them.

Otherwise? Editing the term paper (seven of eighteen pages done!) and waiting for my holidays.

Still working on the term paper, but the end of it is very nigh. With luck, I’ll have finished writing it this afternoon – and I’ll be able to start editing and revising it this week. I just want to be done with it – done enough that I can enjoy my vacation and start thinking about my upcoming Banff Centre residency.

This coming Saturday, there’s going to be a ‘River of Light‘ art installation. The artists will be launching giant floating balls, lit from the inside, at Edworthy Park. The plan is for them to float all the way down to Prince’s Island Park, where they’ll be corralled. There have been people coming by the test the conditions – we caught sight of them the other day.

The idea is that they’ll attention on the intricacies and interdependencies of Bow River’s life cycle and water sources. So say we all.

That’s a pretty big ball to be chucking in the river – 500 of them going in, apparently. They look like one of those bouncy balls you see the kids with. That one appears to be more disco, though.

It’ll be interesting to see how it all turns out. I have a vision of a lot of jumbo balloon balls getting caught up in a storm sewer outlet, but there’s going to be volunteers in kayaks, apparently, to keep that from happening. I’ll be down to watch the launch – it should be quite pretty. No word on what the building’s grouchy old lady brigade thinks of it, but there’s a new pilot recycling program in the building that will surely be drawing their wrath (peeling labels off cans? Crumpling milk jugs? Well, I never!), so they may not have enough time to work up a good complaining about giant balls in the river.

I predict a fun time will be had by many (including me!). I also predict that there will be some very alarmed ducks. Perturbed, even.

…when what should to my wondering eyes then appear, but a swing stage, and two mants!

It’s rather staggering when two mants go sailing blithely past your high-rise window in the morning.

These would appear to be the lofty crested mant variety: known to inhabit high up places, ever in search of hambones. They chip away at old bricks (which they take back to the mant hill, no doubt) and leave new bricks behind.

Quite elusive, they are, owing to their natural tendency to hang from great heights.

I’m not sure if they’re related to the elevator shaft mant, as those are more of a subterranean ilk, but I think it’s safe to say that all mants share an inter-relatedness that approaches consanguinity. Likely there is a common mant ancestor that hearkens back to the days of the single tool user. Over time, though, the mants have become more specialized and diversified. One wonders what mants will look like a hundred years from now.

Term paper in the afternoon (and a very delicious brownie, to celebrate it being Friday the 13th).

Friday sandwich in the evening.

The last of my pregnant bosom office coffee buddies left for her maternity leave today – gone for a year. The other has been gone for a few months. I’m fresh out of coffee buddies now. I have two mandated fifteen minute breaks (we’re union, after all!), and I’m not sure what I’ll do with the time now. I think I may end up taking fifteen minute walks. Or reading.

Probably lots of reading.

The old lady brigade has already started shuffling around in the hallway. We’ve had a knock on the door already and the fat old lady and her husband showed up. We’ve discovered the origin of the gossip (ridiculous old ladies and gossipy old men).

Man. Is that all we have to look forward to when we get old? Shuffling around the condo building, swearing on the lives of children and cooking up strange stories? There’s nothing better to do?

Yeesh. I’ll just keep working, thank you.

The term paper is still underway. I’m – oh, getting there. Today I thought that I felt a bit like the captain on Das Boot – when he looks around and realizes that the sub has sprung a leak and that there are ridiculous old ladies shuffling around his condo building with their gossipy old men.

Well, maybe the movie didn’t include that last part. But I am looking at my term paper with a certain amount of horror.

Ridiculous old ladies and gossipy old men aren’t very good, either. We’ll just stop answering the door, I think. Though the next time they come by, I’m tempted to open the door and tell them to go sell crazy someplace else.

As for the term paper – well, I’m working on it.

Still with the term paper. I write another good chunk of it today, and I’m getting closer to the midpoint of the analysis section. Getting ever closer to finishing – and finishing the course! And once I do, I’ll have hit the halfway point in the MA, so that means I’ll be done my hump course. That’s how I’m coming to think of it.

Badly want to be on vacation. Everything feels like an aggravation. Our building is having a ton of work done right now – new elevators, a new roof, new fire alarm, repaired electrical panels, repairs to the bricks on the outside – and we’ve all had to pay a special assessment. It wasn’t cheap – but you can’t have things falling off the side of the building or fire alarms that won’t work. The roof was in dire straits – leaking like crazy. The electrical panel was days away from starting a fire. The fire alarms were incredibly antiquated. Bricks could have started falling off the building (and that’s definitely not good). The elevators are old and shabby. All of these things are fixed – or almost fixed – but it hasn’t come cheap.

One of the building’s old lady busy bodies commented to me today that “somebody” complained to her about the new roof, because it “didn’t affect her.” Because she didn’t live on the top floor. Because the only people getting the benefit of the new roof are the people living on the twenty-first floor, and it’s not like anybody living on the fifth floor would see the benefit of a new roof. This is what “somebody” said to her. I think my head was twenty seconds away from exploding.

I’m so full of general aggravation that my brain to mouth filter is starting to sprout leaks. So I said a few things.

Nothing I’ll regret. But I had some choice words about “people” who think a roof and fire alarms that work aren’t all that important. Nothing vulgar (although I said there was a lot of ‘loose talk’ around the building, and that I was sick of it). But enough that I think the busy body will start up her gossip machine anew.

Bring it on, old lady! Bring it on!

Makes the day better. Doesn’t it? So much nicer to look at that than to look at this:

Yeah.

Mystery solved.