Highlights from Cape So Far

Watermelon martinis

Dairy Queen chocolate dip
grilled muffin at Betsy's Diner
swimming in ocean
best suntan of entire life
pomegranate margarita
scones and clotted cream
friendship

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Headed for the Cape

I've heard it said that just crossing the Bourne Bridge lowers blood pressure for some. Could it be true?



Not for me since I do not like bridges. I don't like the way they loom in the distance and I don't like the narrowness of them when you're driving across, and mostly I don't like the thought of where I am in relation to the ground. This is a phobia that keeps getting worse for me and has extended to some monuments and natural wonders. I don't think I would like to see the Grand Canyon.

BECKY! IS THIS ABOUT YOUR FUN VACATION OR YOUR STUPID NEUROSES?

It's about my fun vacation.

OKAY WELL, GET TO THE POINT!

Welcome to Cape Cod MAFor me, it's getting to the rotary that is liberating. Yeehaw, we're here!! It's a fast drive and my girlfriends and I chat chat chat all the way. There is always much to talk about.


I am looking forward to our usual pursuits.



Watch for a Playboy pictorial--Middle-Aged Women of Dairy Queen.

HAH! I DON'T THINK SO! But there could be a follow-up shot to last year's triumphant DiCaprio/Blanchett/Titanic image.

I have been building to a major Dairy Queen episode for quite a while, not that I deserve it.



We don't just eat, dear reader, lest you think so. We also drink and shop. We are Renaissance Women in that respect. We do every tourist thing well, including singing Shenandoah in three-part harmony on our way to the beach. It's pretty impressive.

And so to all of you left behind, enjoy your week and Be Here Now.





Raid the refrigerator.

Forget all about incompetent clerks, telemarketers, blackhearted glibsters of every kind.
There's a lot of fun to be had.
Let's have some.
love,
becky

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GCC: Driving Sideways by Jess Riley





This book is getting great reviews, including this one: "Driving Sideways is a gorgeous novel -- I LOVED it!! It's enjoyable, uplifting, and so so so funny and sparky. I found it hugely entertaining and very touching. Jess Riley's voice is irreverent and wonderful, and her writing is genius."--Marian Keyes, internationally bestselling author of Anybody Out There?

Author photo2[1]jess riley

Driving Sideways tells the story of Leigh Fielding, a twenty-eight year-old kidney transplant recipient who—six years, hundreds of dialysis sessions, and a million bad poems after being diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney Disease—finally feels strong enough to pursue a few lofty goals she’s been mulling for years: find herself, her kidney donor’s family, and the mother that abandoned her over twenty years ago. And what better way to do just that than a solitary road trip across the country? Well, maybe not entirely solitary, because Leigh suspects she may have inherited more than just an organ from her deceased donor. It’s this sneaking suspicion that takes her trip down some unexpected detours—and the juvenile delinquent who blackmails Leigh into giving her a ride is only the beginning.



Sounds pretty good to me, dear reader.



Check out Jess Riley's DRIVING SIDEWAYS the next time you visit your local chain or independent bookstore. To buy online, visit amazon.com, borders.com, barnesandnoble.com or any cyber bookseller. For more information, visit Jess's website at jessriley.com.



I am leaving for the Cape, dear reader, so posting may be sporadic. Let's maintain solidarity. There's them and there's us.

A bientot,

love,

becky

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Rocky Mountain High


Don't even think what it cost to drag your belongings up the path. Don't even think of the swear words and sweat. The vista is all. The vista is what you get. Work hard on a goal and you get the vista. You sit down and enjoy it. This is my daughter in the Rockies and she says in her face what you get. It is what I get for finishing my book. Congrats to her and also to me.

Et cum spiritu tuo.

And so I pause for just a moment. This thing, this nun story, needs a lot of hacking and axing. It needs tweaking and sharpening and honing and poring over. But the skeleton just got its last finger.

I wonder if God had a beer after the First Day.
A bientot dear reader,
love,
becky

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Is Anyone Working?

What is the main thing all these stores have in common?

Yes of course they are fine examples of American commerce. All spend thousands, let's call it hundreds of thousands, on advertising to get you in their stores.
But the main thing, the one standout trait of all of them is:
NO ONE WILL WAIT ON YOU WHEN YOU GET THERE.
Finding a salesperson to answer your question is something like a treasure hunt. Or Where's Waldo?
Nope. Not anywhere near the cash register [don't make me LAUGH].
Not anywhere in the aisles.
Not within hearing distance since I have abandoned my precious customer dignity and begun screaming--ANYONE HERE? HELLO?
"Excuse me, do you work here?" will not win you friends and can win you enemies.
And you can forget about calling on the phone.
FOR A MEMBER OF THE SALES TEAM, PRESS ONE AND HOLD YOUR BREATH.
FOR THE FRONT DESK, PRESS TWO AND BEGIN YOUR MANICURE.
FOR STORE EXECUTIVE OFFICES, PRESS THREE AND READ CHAPTER THREE OF WAR AND PEACE.
FOR INFORMATION ON PRODUCTS AND SERVICES, PRESS FOUR AND PRACTICE ZEN MEDITATION.
FOR ANYTHING THAT REQUIRES A HUMAN, PRESS FIVE, EAT SHIT, AND DIE.
All right, all right. I know you get it, dear reader.
I do feel a little guilty whining and complaining when I myself am not working right now.
But it's part of the fun.
Living the Dream
love,
becky
http://www.statcounter.com/

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Excuse Me, But My Brain is Fried

Eggs Over Easy
These last scenes are killing me. I guess what I really mean is half the last scenes are killing me. One part of the story is easy to tell. I know where it's going, I've always known, and it's being downloaded from my head to my fingers.
The other part I also know the destination for, but it seems too simple all of a sudden and not enough for the space I am giving it. Does this make sense?
Gosh no. Sorry.
I trust it will all come to me, hopefully in a blinding mystical vision, but plain old Times New Roman will be fine.
Also clouding the vision is this old favorite:
Yes, that's right, the pump that brings water into my house [Becky's actual pump not depicted--we do have some scruples, plus it's underground, dude]. But we already dealt with this problem, you may be saying, dear reader, and you are right. We have. To the tune of a Large Sum of Money.
But sometimes life says: HAHA YOU TWIT!
IT'S NOT FIXED!
IT'S NOT EVEN SLIGHTLY FIXED!
IT'S NOT EVEN ALTERED.
Woman Bathing in a Shallow Tub
This is Woman Bathing in a Shallow Tub by Edgar Degas. It's what I'm going to be switching to if the plumber doesn't fix this problem on Monday. Oh goody--a whole weekend of water drama. Normally, I'd say well there's a book title, but I'm not nearly so cheerful right now.
I know. I know. I am still Living the Dream every day.
A bientot
love,
becky

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How Much Money Would I Accept to See These Movies?

Moviefone says: 2008 is one of the "hottest summer movie seasons in years."

Becky says: ARE YOU ON DRUGS?
My friend and I perused the listings over the weekend and could not find ONE movie to see. In plain fact, I would have to be paid to see what is available. Here are the minimum amounts I would take.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal SkullIndiana Jones and the Something or Other
The first IJ had a scene with snakes in it and I would never chance another one.
$500
Incredible Hulk, TheThe Incredible Hulk Does Something or Other. God.
$600 (the extra hundred is due to the unremitting nature of the Hulk in the first place. When did this start? 1970s? Die, already!)
WALL-EWall-E.
People I have respect for have actually said this movie was good. Or it was cute. Or bearable. I don't think so.
$300 (but I'll lower my rate in honor of my good friends)

Kung Fu PandaKUNG-FU PANDA
I don't like cartoons. Sue me. And don't tell me it's Jack Black because it's only his voice.
$300
Hellboy-2Hellboy 2
ODGIH
(oh dear god in heaven)
$1000

I can't continue, dear reader. They are all terrible--terrible to contemplate and I have no doubt terrible to watch. Every time, I mean EVERY TIME, I have been persuaded against my will to attend an action movie like Batman, I have regretted it. I am wondering what time it is as soon as the thing starts.
Why are they SO BORING?
Why can't they make at least ONE English manor house movie with beautiful wallpaper?
And one more thing--why are the box office results of movies listed as "news" items? I don't get that. Far more of interest and relevance to our economy would be listings of how many refrigerators sold over a weekend, wouldn't they? Or cars? But movies? It just don't make sense to this reporter, y'all.

Sorry I'm a little grouchy today.
I'm writing the ending to my book and need all my energy for that.
A bientot
love,
becky

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Cambridge Nights

Some call it the People's Republic of Cambridge and indeed I visited with one of its stalwarts. There is so much to do in the city, we tend to forget that little fact out here in the hinters.




This ship was passing by the wharf outside the Institute of Contemporary Art, where we sat imbibing wine and vodka (not together: what do you take us for?)



It's a very cool place and we saw some very cool contemporary art. Some of it is perplexing, okay? You gotta have an open mind. There was a video showing where a guy goes into a grocery store with bow and arrow and shoots all his selections. You see him aiming at and piercing a loaf of bread, box of cereal, etc.

I'm not sure what it meant.

But I LMAO'ed repeatedly and that can't be bad.


That was in Boston. We took various T vehicles to get there. When we tottered out, we took the Silver Line back to Cambridge and went to outdoor jazz. I think a dj would have said it was smooth and delicious.

This is Stan Strickland and he is excellent. People were dancing in the streets, although my friend and I sat in the bleachers or whatever they were. Guatemalan jewelry was for sale and it was beautiful too. I may have been slightly intoxicated, but it was still beautiful.

May I say this about the Silver Line? No one uses it. It was empty coming and going, and my friend said it is always that way. Very odd. I felt like we were in Soylent Green or some urban thriller.

And that's only half the weekend, dear reader. Be here now.

A bientot

love,

becky

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More Facebook

Well now, this takes the cake. I went over to FB yesterday thinking I would send my daughter-in-law a hibiscus. Wouldn't she laugh!

Guess what? It costs A DOLLAR to send a hibiscus!! A DOLLAR!

Now I'm going to tell you this right now, dear reader. If you're thinking of sending me any flowers or coffee or "karma" from Facebook, just mail me the dollar, okay? Just the dollar is fine. You can even send it without a stamp and I'll pay for it when it gets here.
HOW'S THAT FOR GRACIOUS GIFT ACCEPTANCE?

One more thing: I was perusing a friend's "profile"and it says up in the corner (as I'm sure it does for everyone)---SUGGEST SOME FRIENDS FOR XXXXXXXXXXXXX.
THIS PATHETIC HUMAN BEING IS DESPERATELY SEEKING ANYONE TO TALK TO AT ANY TIME!
PLEASE RACK (AND/OR WRACK) YOUR BRAIN AND SEE IF THERE ISN'T SOME POOR SOUL THAT YOU KNOW WHO COULD DO A GOOD DEED---EVEN ONE FRIEND WILL HELP!

You start to feel ashamed of yourself for only having 20 friends. Some people have hundreds or I suppose even thousands. I HAVE A THOUSAND FRIENDS ON FACEBOOK. I AM QUEEN AND WILL SMITE YOU.

Other news Chez Motew this morning is from the Medium Sized Appliance Requiring Huge Expenditure category. The pump, which is attached to my well, which is attached to the rolling gerbil ball, is being fixed!!! Oh god, I pray for it. To think of taking a shower without worrying every second that the water will fade out is a fantasy.

This is not my well (as far as I know). I have been prepared during each and every shampoo to cover myself with something, jump in the car, and drive to my girlfriend's house. Arriving in the middle of a dinner party in that fashion makes me want to write a scene like that. OH well, sometime.
It's hot and at night I face the Air Conditioner Option.
I don't like sleeping with it on because I hear voices in it. Not Son of Sam voices (BECKY! GO KILL BOB NEXT DOOR! USE A BLENDER!), just normal voices, like on TV and sometimes opera singers. And I can never quite hear what they're saying. It's frustrating. Also it's freezing cold and my face is cold and my nose and I think what the heck, it's summer and I'm freezing.

Enjoying the summer and Living the Dream (with normal whining)....
A bientot
love,
becky

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Facebook is totally strange.

Myspace is weird too, of course, and mostly seems to be advertising for bands and books and products. That's why many of my colleagues get on there, to promote their stuff. And why not? Everyone is always ready to try the New Big Thing.


But Facebook is truly inane.


JANEY JONES SENDS MARSHA SMITH A HIBISCUS!


You might have the same reaction I always do, dear reader. Who the f cares?

But I promise you, messages like this fill the site.

PENNY JONES SENDS MARSHA SMITH A ROSE!

Explain to me how this is not like kindergarten.

PATSY JOHNSON SENDS MARSHA SMITH AN OBSCURE TROPICAL FUNGUS!

MARSHA SMITH DOESN'T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON!

MARSHA SMITH SENDS ALL HER FRIENDS A SCORPION!


EAT SHIT AND DIE, YOU ASSHOLES!


Well now, I made part of that up. I don't think you can send a rose.

But really, the strangest part of all of it is the public nature of it. Every rose or flower or cup of Starbucks (as if!) you send to someone IS POSTED TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS.

So it's like this. I send a hibiscus to someone sort of tentatively, hoping and waiting to see what this person might say. Immediately after I do it, headlines go out across Facebook to one and all: BECKY MOTEW SENT A HIBISCUS TO FARNSWORTH JONES. NYAH NYAH!

[I post as Mary Willis there, dear reader. If you want to find me, I'll be your friend and you can send me a hibiscus]

You really have to think carefully what you do on there or even who you talk to. Not that I don't like to pore over everybody else's hibiscus choices. Gosh, look at that. Wonder what his wife thinks about it.


A casual girlfriend on there recently sent me an invitation to "go wild." Facebook gives you suggested answers, such as:
throwing a sheep, dancing, or even showering with them. I kid you not.

SHOWERING? You could end up disgracing yourself in all manner of ways on Facebook and that's why I am Pretty Darn Quiet.


Oh well, enough of that.


July so far is so-so. My town had fireworks on July 3, which we were positive were rained out until we heard them going off as we sat at my kitchen table. Oh well. We can always go upstairs and start sending zinnias on Facebook.

Nobody had more fun than Maeve on the Fourth. We celebrated by playing Let 100 Balls Fall Into The Yard.
Be here now, dear reader.
A bientot
love,
becky

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Fireworks and GCC: Amy Wallen



Fireworks are fun, but in suburban areas a bit predictable. They seem to be comprised of:

1) small red bursts

2) small blue bursts

3) small white and/or sparkly bursts

5) The Big Zinnia

6) loud sonic booms

7) audible launch and then pitiful small bang

8) finale on the ground of sizzling Statue of Liberty sword fighting with Abraham Lincoln. No one can see it anyway.Then everyone walks out in the dark to count mosquito bites.It is all great fun for little kids who run manically around with glow-in-the-dark tubes. A few Frisbee injuries, hopefully not me.Recovering from dental surgry. Uck.
I am pleased now to report on :


Amy Wallen is our featured Girlfriends' Cyber Circuit author this week and I'm sorry my computer is still in the shop! But here is some info on what looks like a great read:





MOONPIES AND MOVIE STARS
Ruby Kincaid has her hands full these days. In addition to running the bowling alley after the death of her husband, Rascal, she has the daunting task of caring for her two boisterous grandchildren, since her daughter Violet disappeared without a trace four years earlier. It’s 1976 and Ruby and her nearest and dearest in Devine, Texas are watching their favorite soap opera at the bowling alley when they see Violet in a Buttermaid commercial. Expecting it will only take a little motherly guilt to rein in her wayward daughter, Ruby loads up the Winnebago and heads for Hollywood to try and bring Violet back to the Lone Star State.
Along for the ride are Imogene, Violet’s over-bearing and pretentious mother-in-law (who’s ready to assume the title of “celebrity-in-law”), and Loralva, Ruby’s wild sister who is itching to visit Tinsel Town because it’s where all the game shows are taped – and nothing’s going to stop her from making it to her favorite, The Price Is Right. Rounding out the group are Ruby’s grandchildren Bunny and Bubbie who are confused, sad, and excited at the prospect of finding their mother. They give Ruby the courage she needs to track Violet down and try to make things right.
While MOONPIES AND MOVIE STARS is great fun and a lot of laughs, it is also a poignant story of dreaming big, finding home, and coming to terms with family.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Amy Wallen has studied with a number of acclaimed writers, including Janet Fitch (White Oleander). She has taken those talents cultivated in the workshops of these great writers and brought them to her own creative writing classes at UC San Diego Extension. Amy also hosts an open mic night in San Diego, Los Angeles and New York called Dime Stories Live, in collaboration with the national public radio show airing this summer. This is her first novel. Visit her on the web at AmyWallen.com.
A bientot
love,
becky

http://www.statcounter.com/

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