I was always more the passive resistance type. I was the youngest child and Mother was too tired for another round of the wars. I quietly got away with murder.
'Time Bomb'
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
So was I the youngest, by rather a lot; nearest sibling is 8.5 years my senior. But I was always completely aggressive, unlike my sisters, so my mother and I were in a state of vicious - and occasionally violent - warfare from the day I went to live with them.
Nothing would have induced me to eat her food, except her pastry. She was a dreadful cook. I wouldn't have fed that stuff to a horde of warthogs.
No drabble topic today?
Shit, I thought I'd asked, and then I got nosedown in new London Calling and I forgot. GAH.
TEPPPPPYYYYYYYYYYY!
Damn. Sorry, folks. I was off work for Columbus Day, so it didn't feel like a Monday, and I just plain forget. Mea culpa.
Challenge #78 (two people seated across from each other at a table) is now closed.
Challenge #79 is never say "never". (No drabbles about the James Bond movie, please.)
Teppy, stop oppressing me.
never say "never
Can I just write "Oh look, it's my entire frellin' history for the topic!" ten times....?
(heads off to ponder)
Teppy, stop oppressing me.
NEVER!
Thank you. We're here through Saturday. Enjoy the veal.
She supposes it could still happen. Sometimes. Other times she just counts up how low her murder risk would be. But she still wants it. Some days, it makes her silly how much, until she is planning on saying how she’d never have met her children’s dad if she had known her way around a computer at all...she makes up shit full-time after all, making up a movie about herself and Tech Support is not much of a stretch.
Gratitude can make you swoon like love, sometimes, and sometimes she does fight the urge to fling her arms around this young geek’s neck, from just the relief of the thing....not having to be Thag praying to the Fire Gods to light her campfire any more. She can leave it to somebody who knows.
But that only means love to Sandra Bullock and she hasn’t been mistaken for Sandra Bullock lately...on a good day, maybe, Garafolo, although more from vibe than actual resemblance. On a bad day, maybe Jennifer Jason Leigh, for a bit of both, neither woman being exactly shy about being fucked-up when they feel like it.
She’s only...this close to her birthday she has to pause and figure out what hard-won year she’s on...thirty-two. Plenty of great women are single at this age...and a negative voice in her head says “Mary Magdalene”, but that seemed like a career necessity. Writing on disability is not quite as involving as “public relations”.