backyard crowing ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- not an island after all! my great aunt is a writer!!! she did it, she and three of her friends have published a book called Chick~Lit for Foxy Hens, and it's on Amazon.com! I won't link back to her blog as then she can find out where this blog is (and who wants that?) but anyways I have provided you with the title so if you are interested in reading about the love lives of foxy ladies over fifty, google it! I haven't read any of it yet, but mom has ordered a copy. She and her fellow authors are promoting the book right now, traipsing around Oklahoma to everywhere from Home Depot to the public library to beauty shops doing booksignings, or at least asking to do them. they have already quite a few scheduled. i'm so excited for her! how wonderful, this is a huge accomplishment for her. i'm leaving a message on her guestbook. this really is a thrill!!!!!!!!!!! It makes sense that Anne Frank wrote so much and so well, she had nothing else to do. The weather is insane today, it's below freezing in Austin (28 degrees Celsius) if you can believe that, and the university has closed between 2pm today and 10am tommorow. I am therefore missing my Astronomy study session and a chance to talk to my Literature T.A., but I don't care much. What am I saying? I don't care at all, I played hookie today from the beginning. "You're a great writer, when you want to be." - I forgot where I heard or saw this, but it was recently. On another note, I suppose I am not an island, or at least according to Donne: No man is an island, entire of itself -- John Donne also, i have discovered daphne loves derby (off of jimmy's myspace, i know, shoot me) and they are now my new favorite. furthermore... i went to sleep with a grand headache last night and woke up, the pain not having left me. that's why i refrained from school today. later that night, written on paper i found around the mailboxes...
So here I sit in the below-freezing weather in what is normally a hot as hell Austin, Texas. I tried first to sit at a table near our tennis court, which has recently been transformed into a roller hockey rink, but unfortunately the tables without awnings above them boast a thin layer of ice on their sufaces, and someone's pocket change as well. At last I can see my breath! My hair is wet, as I just left a hot shower, maybe if I stay out here long enough my ends will freeze! A group of three students not so far away from my table is chatting about our "inclement" weather, and I suppose it is the only thing worth mentioning--today is a special occasion, a reminder that the goose is getting fat, and a breath of fresh air to some of us freaks. Every once in a while a frigid person sprints past and glances at the writer in me, wondrous an eager to get from one building to the next. My hands are near numb, sandaled feet tapping away furiously in the wind. Tiddely pom.
6:05 p.m. - 2005-12-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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