My husband recalled a show in which Frasier (on "Cheers") said "I'm running with scissors, and I can eat chocolate whenever I want to, and nobody can stop me!" because he was free of his very pale, almost vampirish wife, Lilith (I just wonder who had come up with her character and why they had made her so pale and she spoke with that monotone voice, and was SOOOOOO controlling--like a vampire).
Anywhoooo, I had to e-mail Crescent Moon asking about not hearing from them after 4 weeks and found out--ho-ho-ho--that they'd never received my email to begin with.
I have a stupid phone modem, so it doesn't surprise me, but I told them when I do send this again, I'm going to do a follow up email. Which is something we should all do, I suppose, anyway. So, now I'll have to wait another 4 weeks!
But I have to admit I'd been biting my nails about whether what I'd sent them was good enough (this is my "I'm not good enough" syndrome). I had questioned myself again and again once it was "sent". Did I make any mistakes--the dumb ones I usually make because even when I'm careful I still make them.
So, when I'd learned that they'd not received this email with a query and my one page synopsis I groaned with relief. I'd changed one main thing in it, and after reviewing what I'd written for the synopsis, I felt it could have been written better. So, last night I worked on it, printed it out and worked on it until it looked like my 8th-grade English teacher had been scribbling with her red ink pen again--har har har.
Did I mention how much I loath writing synopsis? Especially 1-page synopsis. If I have to say something important and it goes to the second page why should I be penalized? I hate rules like that.
That's why I slapped the title to this post. I don't like rules. I guess I never have. I don't like people telling me I have to dress like them, or think like them, or talk like them, or live like them. I am my own person. I suppose it is the artist/writer in me. I'm a rogue. I never adhered to the styles of the times--and still don't. I wear what I feel comfortable in. I like to dress up, but I'm not going to try and look like some model (couldn't anyway--I mean who wants to look like they had their hair done with a blender? And make-up done with a palate knife. Plus, I'm not 100 pounds of skin and bones--all though I used to be and hated it.)
I got home today and it had gotten an amazing 80 degrees, and I just had to walk out to the park. I watched a red tail hawk glide out over the water, the geese were going nuts because I was about 100 yards away. I was just happy to get off the bus and go out where I could find a little solitude. I get sick of dealing with the public all day long. Don't get me wrong. I've made a lot of friends, and I talk to a bunch of the NIU students I drive home. but I've gotta just be alone when I'm done.
When I got back to the house all sweaty and pretty well spent, because it turned out to be a 45 min. walk, not a 20 min. one--I was ready for my nice hot bubble bath. I got out and heard my husband pop the cork to a new chilled bottle of Moscato, and I went out side and let the wind dry my hair and came back in, threw some ice in a glass poured my wine over it, put my feet up and listened to the end of the Cub's game--which they came back and won--and I was in my happy zone.
There's been times when I would rush home and have to get to my office and work on whatever it is I'm working on. Today, I just wanted to run with scissors and eat chocolate--I wanted to enjoy the moment. April has been good to us in the Midwest, lately. This is unreal. We usually have rain, if not still fighting to see 60 degrees.
Nope. Even though I'm looking at another possible 4 weeks of waiting for a publisher to get back to me, my summer is already mapped out. I'm driving 4 days, and will still be working on my second book. When moments strike me to just head off and do something different--not literally run with scissors--but just let my hair down and be myself, and enjoy the moment, by goddess, I'm going to.
Thank you Frasier, wherever you are.