minor religious deity, so I think controlling dreams falls within her jurisdiction.
I was supposed to move into the really big, lighted giraffe with the laser beam walls, but it isn't quite finished yet, so they had me move into the smaller giraffe. Michael Vaughn (the CIA Handler from Alias--my latest obsession) was flirting with me mercilessly, asking what room I'd been put in. Nobody seemed to be bothered by my nudity. He wouldn't help me though, with the puzzle—which was actually dozens of puzzles, each in the shape of an animal made up of small wooden pieces. You see three-D puzzles is how they test people's suitability to... you know, live in the big light-up laser giraffe.
I'm not sure what they penalty is, and maybe they have a blanket policy that covers anyone who drives them, but they are not the most maneuverable thing on the road. However, I suspect maintenance is far cheaper than on a long-neglected Toyota Sienna (we dropped almost 4 grand yesterday redoing and fixing some dozen things that had needed it for probably two years). AT LEAST though, it still ran with all that crap wrong with it.
I live in Michigan, where car is king and people look at you askew for driving foreign, but we bought this car with 80K miles on it. Had we bought something built in Detroit, it would have maybe lasted us to 120K—we fully expect this one will last to 250K. I wish American manufacturing had not fallen in love with the idea 'if we make it to break, they'll have to buy a new one in a few years', but I happen to believe they did, and with cars, we just can't afford that.
Broken Fans and Other such Nuisances (Nuisi?)
Oh, when things break they break in batches at the Tart house. Our bathroom fan quit last week—the motor burnt out (probably from processing all that cat hair), and so the fire alarm (which oddly doesn't distinguish between smoke and steam, when in fact STEAM is not a fire sign in the least) went off after my daughter's shower this morning, waking the dead three counties away—so if you see Zombies today—sorry about that. (say, this section had not a single giraffe)
For those of you who don't practice Digressionism, it may not be clear what giraffes have to do with it... I mean the Giraffe on Noah's Ark was gay (the male anyway) so I know MOST people are unclear how all this works. But the Giraffe, much like Buddha, is a cheerful symbol, chosen not for BEING god, but for practicing well and living a life to emulate, or some such thing. '
Did you know I was licked by a giraffe when I was a kid? The circus came to town (and before you get TOO excited, when the circus comes to town, they don't let you BE IN IT (that was very disappointing) they just have you WATCH it (so much for my tight rope aspirations)) but they DID have some animals, and we bought some peanuts and then I climbed onto a platform (my memory insists this was a ladder, but I know my mother wouldn't have let her four-year-old climb a ladder) and hold out the peanuts for the giraffe. Giraffes have really ROUGH (black) tongues—like a cat tongue, only about eight inches long. (and THAT was a successful Digression—see, religion's not so bad)
News of a less Delusional Sort
First draft of my cozy chapters are typed and the hand edits are in so heads up Leanne and Stacy (round 1 readers).
My daughter swims in the State Synchronized Swimming Meet tonight, so we're going to Troy! (nobody seems to think we need to take a large wooden badger to get in, no matter how often I suggest it). It means no writing tonight, but tomorrow I should be able to work on Conspiracy a little (Sunday, too)--THEN Cozy edits, send to Elizabeth, back to Conspiracy... THEN next weekend final round of edits before sending my Cozy chapters to MY AGENT—MAN, that never gets old.
Work is still NUTS. I let myself get behind, which I shouldn't do, but I have to catch up before I can implement a 'don't get behind rule' Grrrrr.
I wish you all a truly fabulous weekend!!!