Long lunch (2.5 hours) with Ruth Cavin. She seems to want New-Slain Knight. Then dinner and four hours of conversation with Daymond at the bar at the Algonquin.

Good news! Sorry about the dedness and the sick, though.

I'm likely - at Daymond's suggestion - to post a few questions in here, asking for, well, questions. He's got a unique perspective, and we've agreed the book needs to contain nutrients, things that open a window into the differences and similarities within our own culture and between the genders.

I have no idea how to structure this one yet. Eeeep...

Looks like Deprivation Girl found her topic...three in a row.
If I believed in Heaven, this would make a lot more sense. Really believed in it, not just look it over like a picture of Fiji and think “Hmm, that’d be nice, but the flight’s probably a pain and it costs a ton.”I can’t, so far. So I am left without that sense of cosmic justice that tells me that someday, this will all pay off. That there will be no ramps needed in the “golden city” the President made somewhat infamous by invoking in his weird accent. It’d be easier to stem the pangs if I really thought there’d be a buffet in my future, because now my friends eat much better than I do.

Don’t get me wrong...it’s kind of a pleasure watching the combinations they get from all over the world...the sights, smells and occasional tastes, much better sometimes than hanging with my rap buddies, huddling in the dark over government cheese, always knowing every story will end in tears. And everyone knows eating lunch with a friend is more about company than actual food, but I wonder if they know how often I go back to my own table feeling hungry. Maybe before I sit down, as if there is a before, I should drink a glass of water first. Maybe gum. Gum is cheap, and with this crowd, it can never hurt to have fresh breath.

But someday, I must admit, I want to be full. Not be eating squashed peanut butter and watching people eat petit fours, telling myself their digestions will eventually catch hell to make my simplicity virtuous and healthy. Not remembering the darkest times, stuffing crumbs and the ends of crust in my tearstained face as my roiling stomach protested(Because peanut butter damn sure looks better that way.) But it’s not enough. It never is...it’s just that sometimes I become deaf to the rumbles because I can’t face peanut butter another day and I can’t pretend it’s something else. Someday, I want a plate so overflowing that people will just be too tempted not to share it with me.

For our wonderful writers and editors looking to earn extra cash from home:

This may have already been posted but Overheard at the Beach is looking for an editor. Part time work from home position with competetive pay. Deadline is 5pm Friday June 16.

My Mother's Cooking

She grew up in the Depression. She made sure that I grew up in The Depression too. Sustenance was an opportunity for punishment. Regimented meals, greasy chicken on Sunday, potatoes on Thursday, how dare I ask for chili? How dare I refuse the brownish spinach and then say I was hungry? All she wanted was a little girl, a girl with long blonde locks and shiny Mary Janes, not this homely tomboy with the matted hair. How dare I vomit back up the cube steak, lying in bed writhing with cramps? How dare I not be perfect?

Hungry? Starving.

Oh, damn, Raq. That's painful.

Oh, man. Owch. That was v. good, Raq, in a wince-making way.

waves.

Hi there! Um, I may be coming and hanging out with y'all a little more often, if you don't mind - I'm trying to get back into writing my original novel again and have also just (FINALLY!) come up with a concept for a kids' book that I'm pretty excited about, so I'm batting things around there. Also I'm illustrating a couple of wee stories (pitched at Grade 1 or 2, maybe) for a friend who's had some stuff published by Harcourt, so I guess I need to get my arse into gear and start trying to pimp that out too. Hmm.

Er. Not to be all mememe - just more of a 'Hi, you may remember me from posts such as 'blahblahblah mememe Bless!cakes'. Um.

Anyway, carry on.

Raq, that was painful, in a good way. Fay, can't imagine anyone complaining of more Fay.

I knew these drabbles would hurt to read when i saw the topic. And they do.

Hi Fay! I'm very interested in hearing how the children's books progress - I have one of my own that I'm trying to figure out what to do with.

Fay! Come and join us, of course.

Raq, that was absolutely raw and painful, in the best possible way.