Waiting is the hardest part

Posted on Jan 09, 2009. 4 comments

There was an earthquake last night. This is the fourth earthquake I've felt in the six years that I've been a California variety of nut. It was mild enough to give me an adrenaline rush. Note: If you saw me on every available social media outlet last night screeching about the big one I sincerely apologize for my lack of restraint.
Anyhoo Mr. Fickle and the dog both walked by the couch at the same moment that I felt the Earthquake. I looked quizzically at the Husband and asked him if either he or the big one (that's the dog) bumped the couch as they meandered past. At that point he looked at ghetto earthquake detector number 1 to look for movement. And indeed the chandelier was swaying ever so slightly. Ghetto Earthquake detector number two (my wind chimes hung from a cabinet) the Personal Audio Alert System didn't even whisper a warning during or after the Earthquake.
Sadly my sand pendulum was tipped over and all the sand dumped about, but that had nothing to do with the Earthquake and everything to do with a clumsy owner with two left butterfingers hands and lots of stubbed toes.
And since you may now believe Southern California is an overpriced postage stamp sized studio apartment with a garden dumpster overlook I will provide a counter argument. Please note that tsunamis and the fire season is not covered in this tutelage.
More free fruit! This time the loquats are flanked by a different orange variety. These oranges are more difficult to reach since I've spotted six foot long grasshoppers on the loquat tree..
Also perennials grow like annuals so much so that practically any plant can become ground cover and grashoppers can grow to the size of small basketball players.
In Southern California plants will really GROW. Even if you neglect to weed them, prune them, water them, or learn how to properly use the focus on your camera. I'm JUST saying.
Finally with one-fifth of biblical plagues already occurring in the foreign country of California I decided to introduce the 9th but little known plague, awaiting an answer from an editor. Editors wield a lot of power. Metaphorically speaking they have the power to hold your head down in the toilet while flushing (anecdotally you would think my husband would know the correct verbiage for this act after all those years as a maxim subscriber).
Waiting to hear back from an editor is kinda like being in middle school and hearing from a friend of a friend that the boy (or girl) that you like thinks you are cute and might like you. And then you do things like call your cell phone from your home phone, send yourself emails from various accounts and send out lots of 911 texts to every number in your phone book to ensure that potential 8th grade dance partner has every avenue of communication open and at the ready.
At this point I would be willing to go to this particular editors house and provide my head for flushing in her toilets (but not in a stalkerish kind of a way of course! More of a custodial visit, really). What I really mean to say is I'd get an expedited passport renewal, fly to the destination of her choice while simultaneously wearing every knit thing I've ever made, a sandwich board, with a grandma pants for atomic wedgies at the ready while waiting for that eternal moment when her hand reaches for the toilet flushing handle.
What? To desperate?! I'll bring freshly grown fruit to sweeten the pot. Better?


  • Posted by Michelle on Jan 09, 2009

    A flushy, thank you Helen! The Yellowstone Earthquake Special deserves the flushy. Perfect.

  • Posted by AlisonH on Jan 09, 2009

    I waited 3 months for a no, three for a yes on my book. I feel for you!
    typingon my stomach…

  • Posted by Helen on Jan 09, 2009

    We always just called it a flushy.

  • Posted by Carrie K on Jan 09, 2009

    Your editor should keep you in the loop on at least an hourly basis. Sheesh.
    Wait until Yellowstone’s earthquake! That’ll take care of global warming too.

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