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I am screaming because I have no choice but to stay home on Halloween. Yes that's right, trooping up and down the stairs to hand out candy to unknown costumed urchins. AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH. This is how I will look when I answer the door, and if the little ones develop psychoses from it, that's what they get with their Milk Duds.

I bought the grossest candy I could find, including Milk Duds, caramels, Snickers, and a bag of something else. All with nougat and Elmer's Glue inside, ready to remove sealants, fillings, crowns, and dental implants with one bite(see previous post).

I used to like to get Luden's wild cherry cough drops on Halloween, though I can't remember who exactly gave those out.

HONEY, DID YOU REMEMBER TO BUY THE COUGH DROP SNACKS?
WHAT ABOUT THE VICKS VAPORUB SAMPLES?

I think I'll give Advil tablets. The kids ought to know how to fight a sick headache before they get any older.

Everyone is so suspicious. Do they think I have the patience to put razor blades in apples? Can you see the person trying to do that? They've got a big cookie sheet spread with apple halves and blood from trying to get the blades to go in the right way. I would have no idea how to do that. And as far as poisoning the popcorn balls, I wouldn't know how to make a popcorn ball if my life depended on it.

If any of my friends are reading this, I'm still available for the movies tomorrow night, or shopping, drinks, cruising the Army base, or an outing of practically any kind. The candy can be yours.

Be here now. God, PLEASE be here now so I don't have to be.

A bientot
love,becky

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At one time I wanted to be a nun, as do most Catholic girls, I suppose. My desire was very great, however, and I think it's the reason I embrace every opportunity to dress up as one. I even make my friends do it. In this photo we are appearing at someone's birthday party and singing a pretty funny song, as I recall. My friend in the middle carried a ruler and whacked people for having impure thoughts, not that they would have gotten any from us.

My friends, you might notice, in a nod to verisimilitude (if you're my student, get a goddamn dictionary and look that up), left the makeup off. Not me, baby. Five pounds of lipstick at all times. Sister Mary Hussy. This was only one nun dress-up. There have been many in my life and I have enjoyed every one. Also, the costume is easy. A dark suit with two half slips on the top, one black and one white. You have to be careful they don't float down while you're walking.

Okay, so I'm building up to the confession (groan) that I don't have a costume for tonight's Halloween party. My mother made me an Indian maiden dress many years ago and I may try to root through my closet and find it. It's very tight under the arms, since it was made for me in the third grade, and I'm not sure I feel like putting up with it. I also have an Arkansas "hog" hat which is great fun, but nothing to go with it except my Razorback nightshirt. I may be just desperate enough to try it. Unwashed nightshirt or pain under the arms.....hmmmm, what would Jesus do? I think Jesus clearly would avoid the Indian maiden dress and opt for the hog hat. What would Buddha do? The Indian dress would never fit him, so it's looking more like the nightshirt/hat combo every minute. These are religious decisions in honor of today's photo. Thanks to my friends Lynn and Chris, who have let me talk them into many a folly.

A bientot

Be here now.

love,becky

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You want to talk about a Halloween horror movie--just looking at these gives me the shakes. They make me want to clutch my wallet, given the vast amount of money I have spent on my teeth. Probably the entire Halloween season here at CFTE should be presented through the lens of dentistry and/or endodontistry (root canal). I am such an expert on the latter, I could actually perform one myself. I know about the prober, the 22 file (I don't know if that is 22 millimeters or 22 caliber as in bullets, but that's the size they always ask for on me--I like to think my canals are longer than other people's), the little bits of paper they put in at the end--yeah, paper. Who knew? Maybe they're sequestering years of evidence of extra-marital affairs at the root canal office---in my mouth!!!! Not to worry, it will all go with me to my grave.

I had my first surgical above-the-gum root canal a couple of months ago. "You'll feel some pressure," the endodontist said just before prying the area open with a farm implement and pushing down with all her might onto my upper jaw. If you were imprisoned in a cell somewhere and had one chance to get out by pushing down really hard, that's how hard she was pushing. A lot more than kneading bread. Bread? You'd pray for bread.

I was six when I had my first cavity. My mother sat and waited for me in the antechamber of Dr. Smith, our family dentist. He was a sadist. He hated children and I'm proud to say I gave him even more reason to.

"Go ahead and spit that out," he said to me after all the drilling was over and tears were running down my face. I knew I was wearing that white cloth around the front of me for a reason. I wasn't as dumb then as I am now.

He never said anything about a sink.

I was obedient above all things. I spit all over him--blood, metal filings, saliva, everything that was in my mouth, all over his glasses, his face, and his fussy little zip-up blouson.

"NOT ON ME, IN THE BOWL!" he yelled and my mother said she and a man in the waiting room almost died laughing. Why? Because everybody hated Dr. Smith. I think my mother enjoyed bringing me there.

Despite brushing my teeth religiously, it was all downhill from there.

What hurts your teeth more, chocolate or hard candy?

You don't think I know, do you?

Which will rot your teeth faster, Milk Duds or Snickers?

Again, je ne sais pas.

Give me the 22 prober, please.

A bientot
love,becky

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Let's be honest. This is the superior candy in the world, is it not? Forget all that Hershey's hype and Heath Bars that suck your fillings and teeth right out of your head. Reese's is God's blessing on man. I would give anything to eat one. BUT I WON'T. My resolve is strong, boys and girls, even though I am at a terrible plateau (3 weeks and still holding).

If I do stay home on Halloween, which I intend not to, I will be sure to buy candy that I don't like. Yucky stuff that isn't chocolate. Skittles--give me a break. Although I do like candy with citric acid in it, the kind that rots the enamel on your teeth. I have a friend who actually likes Chuckles--can you imagine that? Those big jelly bean goobers, yuck again.

There used to be a candy bar named Bun when I was growing up in the midwest and I loved it. I would conceivably forsake Reese's if I could find a Bun again, and of course if I still felt the same way about it.

Disappointing Candy Bars:
Milky Way (BORING, it's the Ford Escort of candy)
Three Musketeers (too marshmallowy, nothing else in it, keep searching for nuts)
Snickers (another candy that could be used for tooth extraction)
Butterfingers/Clark Bar (exactly the same)
Baby Ruth (they're always stale)
Kit Kat (too airy)
Almond Joy (I don't like coconut, it's in your teeth a week later)
Zero Bar (truly gross--do they still have those?)

Maybe I'll buy four huge packages of Necco wafers. I could give them out like communion. Here you go, open wide--oh, I'm just kidding, don't send me hate mail. Anyway, you don't give out Necco wafers singly, you at least have to give a whole package. Or maybe four huge bags of Pez. What ARE Pez anyway? Do they have anything to do with Nez? As in Nez Perce, which I can never remember.

They always have a really cheap assortment of non-chocolate candy that includes tiny lollipops and hard candy. Maybe I'll get that and try to break my teeth instead of pull them out.

I will never be a Godiva girl.

Making progress on my revisions, YES!!! And I just remembered there are still Hershey's kisses somewhere in the house from last Christmas. I wonder if I could find them.

A bientot
love,
becky

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Ruby Oliver is back in another amazing book by the one and only E. Lockhart!


The Boy Book: A Study of Habits and Behaviors, Plus Techniques for Taming Them is the sequel to The Boyfriend List, which is just out in paperback. The Boy Book is about Ruby, who in the first book plummeted from social butterfly to leper, rebuilding her life junior year of high school -- with the help of a guide to understanding the male sex that she wrote with her ex-friends.

The new, cheaper edition of the first Ruby Oliver book (The Boyfriend List) has a fun author Q&A at the back, plus provocative questions for your book club or reading group.

In The Boy Book, Ruby confronts the secret about Noel,
mysterious notes from Jackson,
the interpretation of boy-speak,
the villainy of Cricket,
the horrors of the school retreat,
and the exploitation of hooters everywhere.

There are fruit roll-ups.

There is upper-regioning.
There are so many boys to choose from!
And there are penguins.


























You can visit E. at her website
here.

Or her blog
here.



Okay, this is Becky talking again and if any of you are following along on my cyber-learning curve, read 'em and weep, boys and girls. I nailed this computer code flat. I feel like I just changed a tire or something. Something big. I'm a competent gal now and don't forget it. love ya,
becky

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Today I am pondering life. It was either that or vacuum. Actually, I'm working once again on V revisions. The first 50 pages or so still need work and I am attempting to get that done. As said before, these are the Groundhog Day never-ending relentless deja vu revisions I've been working on since time began. Maybe I'll start the book over in French. La plume de ma tante est dans le Victoire. You may buy ze pen of ze aunt in ze grocerie. Hey. It could happen.

All of my squishy loser characteristics come to the fore with athletic contests. My kids used to groan when I'd say, "Oh, I feel sorry for the other side." MOM!! CUT IT OUT!! Where does the camera go instantly after a home run? That's right, to the face of the pitcher who just gave it up. Where does the camera go when one side gets a touchdown or a goal? To the dugout or sidelines of the ones who were scored on. I especially hate the shot of the one last player sitting on the bench after losing the Big Game, tears in his eyes. God, that gets me. Of course he later goes home in his Hummer and plays golf for three months, but at that moment his grief is exquisite and I feel it with him.

This is not true when the Red Sox are playing. Two years ago when they came back from 0-3 to beat the Yankees four in a row, I stood up with my children and screamed HAHA!! TAKE THAT YOU LOSERS!! YANKEES SUCK! Gosh, I'm not proud of that now. Although my heart still glows to think of the World Series title (last Yankees WS title? 2000, I think. Last REd Sox title? 2004)

I can't decide who is my team in this World Series. I like baseball. I like the quiet orderliness of it. I like the fans who know every stat. I like the solitary nature of it too--and the fact that you can actually see the face of the player up at bat. It's a thoughtful strategic game. And I approve of both teams now enjoined in the battle. I never root for good-weather teams. They already have the weather and don't need anything else. I like a good Rust Belt city that doesn't have much going for it. That's who I like to cheer for and Detroit is perfect. But I grew up in Arkansas and they root for the Cardinals, so it's tough. Also of course I felt sorry for the Cardinals in 2004 when the Red Sox swept them in four, so I'd like to see them avenge that humiliation.

Once a squishy loser, always a squishy loser.

A bientot

Be here now.
becky

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Zest lifts off. First it isn't there and then it is. It builds to a crescendo, which for me usually ends Friday night sometime. Everything feels better when under its influence. GOING UP!!!!

The New Age exterminators are coming tomorrow morning. We're going to meditate on the squirrels and sort of WISH they wouldn't be there. Personally, I'd prefer heavy doses of poison, but whatever. As long as it works.

I should be able to get completely caught up on all my papers this weekend. GOSH, that will feel good. It's a constant intake and output, this process and the one good thing about it is how good I will feel on the very last day. Talk about zest--that's more like delirium. Unfortunately, it leads directly into Christmas preparations, which for me are agonizing and I do nothing but bitch and complain. I'm skilled at both of those. Most of my friends and I have given up exchanging gifts, so my burden is lighter at least by that much. But there is still plenty to be done and bought and planned for. Soon I will post my annual message on why Christmas sucks. This is always a festive day here at CFTE and refreshments are commonly served.

Speaking of food, I am at a serious plateau in my weight loss. I MUST get to my High School Weight by the end of the year. Surely I will, won't I? I'm starting to have doubts. My body and its various parts, which have always yearned to weigh 200 pounds, are making their ultimate last stand. WE'RE NOT DROPPING ANY MORE WEIGHT AND THAT'S FINAL. EVEN IF YOU STARVE US. WE'LL LIVE ON ALL THOSE DORITOS FROM FORMER YEARS. IF YOU DREAM ABOUT FOOD, WE'LL LIVE ON THAT. YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF US.

Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

Anger can be felt through zest sometimes. Zest acts like Demerol--it dulls the pain.

Be here now.

A bientot

becky

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The concept of infinity, or conceptual infinity if you prefer, or immaculate conception of infinitesimal probability are all principles of the same philosophical truth: the number of leaves on my property approaches infinity.

They cannot be raked.

Therefore, I should not try.

This is what is called a syllogism. A equals B, and B equals C; therefore A is an impossible task and should be avoided.

Pythagorus thought this up along with his other better known Pythagorean Theorem. You know what his wife said? THEOREM THIS. He was a lazy dude, Pythagoras, and didn't rake for shit. His wife hated him. Well, let's say she had him pegged for what he was, a good-for-nothing nerd with his nose stuck in a book.

My mother used to say I always had my nose stuck in a book. She was right, too. I do not like to clean. So many of my good girlfriends do like to, and it's a damn shame that I wasn't blessed with this ability. It's also a damn shame that they won't come over to my house and clean for me. I would talk to them while they did it, I would help them plan parties, strategize social situations, and plot revenge. I would help them analyze who their friends really are and what the Hannaford's clerk meant when she said "Have a nice day" (bugger off).

I make all my composition classes pick the vocabulary words of their choice. I ask them first, who would like to have a bigger vocabulary? Almost everyone raises their hand. I guess it's sort of like asking a bunch of men who would like to have a bigger ----------? Of course I don't ask that. What would I do if they said yes? Anyway, when they do admit they'd like to own a few words, I tell them that they should look through our textbook and pick out a word they don't know. Each person picks one word--a word they would like to own, to understand and start using. It's fun sometimes.

What I'm building up to is this: one word picked today was--are you ready?

ZEST!!!!!!

ZEST!!!!!!

I literally danced around the classroom. It was an epiphany. Well, for me it was an epiphany; for them it was another example of instructors being weird. Or very weird.

Anyway, I'm very happy about it.

How did I get happy on a Wednesday? That can't be right.

But it is.

A bientot.

Be here now.

becky

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I'm not going to say what year this was and no, I do not know what I was thinking with the outfit. The vest is suede and has way cool fringe hanging from it. Can you see the gold choker? I think it was a Slinky before I put it around my neck. The real question is why am I straddling my legs like that? I don't have a good answer. I think I was trying to show off the pants. They really do look like curtains, don't they? They were my absolute faves and I was pretty sure as this snap was taken that I was Hot Stuff. It was the one day out of 60 that my hair wasn't a rat's nest of frizz.

In other homeowning news, squirrels are back in the attic and they're partying hard at night. This is pissing me off. Soon clouds of poison will envelop them--no no, I'm kidding. That's not the way modern exterminators do things these days, more's the pity. I do assure you I have not the slightest problem with clouds of poison, but the way they do it is to nail chicken wire over the place where the squirrels are getting in so they can't get in any more. They also attach a chicken wire chute so the little bastard that is still in there (hung over) can get out and escape. At some point my entire house will be enclosed with chicken wire with a small chute for me to go in and out. Stay tuned.

I am reading THIS IS NOT CHICK LIT, which my son gave me in the mistaken belief that it was chick lit. I would rather support the chick lit writers, but since I own the book I am reading it and it is good. It is very good. But good chick lit is good too, boys and girls.

Went to a meeting of New England RWA (romance writers) yesterday and enjoyed it. The presentation was on getting and keeping critique partners. It's a lot like dating and hook-ups and the etiquette involved in dumping them if you have to.

Planning to start DALLIANCE WOMAN sometime soon. It will probably be at a time that I have no business doing it because hey, that's the way I like to do things. I still have two bags of Honeypot Empire apples in my fridge, waiting for my son to claim one of the bags.

And that's all the news I'm willing to tell.

A bientot

I am here now.

becky

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I am the Halloween grinch. Let me count the ways I dislike Halloween:

1)buying candy and having it in the house. Oh, I'll just have one while I'm in the kitchen. Oh, I'll just take two with me while I go upstairs. Woops, have to answer the door and give some out so I'll take another one. Ohmygod, I just gained ten pounds. IT'S NOT FAIR.

2) Answering the door when I'm in the middle of reading something or grading a paper and have only just managed to forget it's Halloween. OH HI, WHAT ARE YOU? WATCH OUT, DON"T FALL AND SUE ME.

3) great big people who come to the door in masks and hold out their bags and never say thank you

4) little kids with their parents who don't say thank you or even "trick or treat."

5) fearing that I will run out of candy. Ohmygod there are only six Reese's left, why did I eat so many?

There is only one reason I enjoy it. KNOWING I DON'T HAVE TO SCHLEP AROUND OUT THERE WITH A FLASHLIGHT AND SIX KIDS. WHERE'S WALDO?

And there is a certain queasiness as one drives home from a pleasant Halloween spent somewhere else. WHAT WILL MY HOUSE LOOK LIKE? EGGS? TOILET PAPER? I have been most lucky in these New England years, except for one senseless mailbox incident.

A bientot

Be here now.

becky

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Which one of these would you rather see in your driveway today? Which one would represent true bad luck? I personally have had way more dealings with the second one than I ever pictured for myself. And I'm not talking about unsavory individuals, although now that I think about it, I've had doings with them too. It comes from living in the country, I guess, the boonies, the outposts of civilization. You have to deal with critters and varmints, and a few people who could use a good sheep dip.

I caught a number of squirrels last year in a trap I used on my roof. It was a stupid thing to do on many counts, not least because I had to walk through my house with the victim writhing in confusion and panic and spreading leaves and debris on my Martha Stewart decorating centers. Also it's illegal. Who knew? Maybe it should be in the driver's manual when people take their road test. Let's see, 100 feet behind a school bus, 6 feet behind another car, and don't transport wildlife from one town to another. Stay 500 feet behind any skunk in a trap.

I considered putting Jason's picture here or Freddy Krueger's, but since I loathe and despise movies like that, I declined. For a thousand dollars I would watch Freddy Kreuger, though, and pay attention to every scene [cf. previous "whoring" post]. I have never understood why people are willing to pay to be frightened. I pretty much would pay NOT to be frightened. I didn't get that scare-me-I-love-it gene that everyone else has. My friend Tom has forced me to watch a few Chucky movies and the only time it is worth it is when the little guy walks up the fire escape in his herky-jerky manner, ready to slash the little kid or the mother or the landlord or whoever is stupid enough to let him in. I have also seen a Leprechaun movie, which was boring to the point of hospitalization.

ZEST is in the air, boys and girls. I have a medium amount of schoolwork to do, so there may be time for some actual frivolity over the weekend.

A bientot

Be here now.

love,
becky

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