Oh. Right. My blog.

Remember me? I was bitten by a vampire in May and then stopped writing? Yes. Hi.

After that kind of absence, it seems that there ought to be a Triumphant Return (capital T, capital R) and, frankly, that is why the absence just gets longer and longer. Today I am ending it. There will be nothing triumphant about it, but enough's enough.

Since last we spoke, I turned 40 and, so far, people don't offer me seats on the bus or rush to help me cross the street. Also, nothing has fallen off of my body, so that seems to be working out. I had a really lackluster summer vacation that involved leaving town for a total of four days. However, in July and August I told a couple of stories on stage that made people laugh. Also, people dressed up for my birthday party; turns out I have good looking friends.

In the last few months, I heard many radio commercials exhorting me to buy sweet seedless watermelon. I think it ought to be an exclamation. As in, "Sweet seedless watermelon, Josie! You scared the bejeus out of me!" See if you can make that happen.

But now, the time of sweet seedless watermelon has passed and we are in back-to-school mode. Among other things, this enabled me to overhear the worst ever "yo mama" comeback in the history of speech today.

Student 1: Just go away.
Student 2: Go away, your mother.

Newsflash

The radio newscaster says "Police are calling it murder." And then he goes on to report that a body was found inside a suitcase floating in the bay.

Um...I am also calling it murder.

My father

Quoth my father:
"...you have to be sort of crazed and committed, because there's no stopping."

And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have what I think of as my father's personal motto. Oh. That and also "run your ass off." In fact, you will see that he has almost no ass to speak of. That is because he has been living true to both these mottos my entire life.

Imagine him running much, much faster than this and you might be able to envision the Dipsea legend on race day. My fearless, fleet-footed father. Personally, you couldn't pay me to even walk that trail. But I do definitely look like him, so I did inherit something along the way.

I'm thinking vampire

This year, I have been plagued by mystery bites. These are bites that seem quite small and innocuous at first, but then become monstrous: venom-spreading, heat-producing, mind bogglingly itchy blights. Previous bites have been on my leg and on my hip. I have ruled out mosquitoes and bedbugs; I was thinking maybe spiders (although why suddenly after an almost entirely spider-free life, I would have them crawling into my bed and biting me, I couldn't say).

However, this time I have formulated another theory. Vampire. Don't you think?





Never having read any Anne Rice or Twilight, I'm not sure there's any documentation about people having an intense allergic reaction to a vampire bite, but it might make an interesting twist for a sequel. I may now be forced to live on human blood for all eternity and I won't be able to go out during the day, but that actually seems fine. Vampires neither ski nor hike, right? Perfect. In my old apartment vampires probably would have woken me up, but in the new place I wear earplugs, so I think it's entirely possible.

Yes. A rather dashing vampire finds me irresistible. Otherwise, poison bugs are crawling over me while I sleep. And clearly that can't be happening.

Recumbent women

This morning I had the occasion to ponder which song I loathe more, "Lay Lady Lay" or "Lay Down Sally."

The poor grammar is just the beginning.