Daggers in My Back and Side


As I write this, knives poke me in the side and one twists in my back with sadistic intent. Not just ordinary knives, but daggers actually. I feel them slashing my insides. EEEEEEEEEEEE!! Excuse that outburst but the… EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…pain causes me to screech unexpectedly.

You might be wondering how I can even write this blog with the stabbing pain piercing my body. Well, it isn’t easy. All I can say is, writing takes my mind off my painful circumstance. A coma would also do that, but writing seems preferable.

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The Dreaded Middle Seat & Goggle-Eyes


“Oh, oh! We can’t have this!” said the flight attendant as she stomped down the aisle toward me. Passengers continued to board, but I heard her footsteps above the others. Clippity-thud, clippity-thud, thud, thud. I had just turned on the air adjustment above me and leaned my head back to enjoy my nice, airy aisle seat. Ahh.

The flight attendant leaned over the (not-yet-occupied) seat in front of me.

“I need you to move to 6B,” she said. “Go sit with your husband.”

“He’s my brother,” I said.

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Life’s Unexpected Drips, Drops, and Spills

It was a beautiful day at the writer's confernece in Edmonds, WA.

It was a beautiful day at the writers’ conference in Edmonds, WA. The Frances Anderson center sits behind the trees.

The “incident” (think theme music from Jaws) occurred last weekend at the Write on the Sound writers’ conference in Edmonds, Washington. Having lived in the Pacific Northwest for many years before moving to Arizona, I missed the Northwest experience of writers’ conferences. So I flew to Seattle to attend the city’s annual conference on the craft of writing.

When I arrived at the conference, I checked-in and then headed straight for the Plaza Room where I planned to meet my friend Janet. I hadn’t seen Janet in five years. Prior to me leaving Washington in 2011, Janet and I had attended the annual writers’ conference together. As an aside, Janet and I became friends at the Fear of Flying Clinic in 2006 where we learned we shared common interests other than our fear of flying. We both liked laughing, talking, slugging down coffee, and of course, writing. With these shared interests we formed our own writing group of two. I proposed we call ourselves the Smokin’ Hot Writers. Janet suggested we get long cigarette holders to be more like real authors. But neither of us wanted to take up smoking.

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Life Surprised Me With Something I Didn’t Know I Wanted (and now I can’t live without!)

These cars don't have cargo space, so the cars haul luggage on top.

These cars don’t have cargo space, so they haul luggage (or black boxes) on top.

Life surprised me this week with something I never knew I wanted, but now I can’t live without.

Having sold my Volkswagen, I needed a new car. I wanted to skip the usual car-buying routine…drumming fingers, slurping stale coffee, waiting for the salesman’s return. He abandons you for hours while he discusses your offer with his boss, an unknown person mysteriously hidden in an area of the car dealership.

Salesman: “My boss says we can offer such-and-such price.”

You: “Tell your boss no deal and I’m about to walk.”

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Birthday Card Thief

“What can I bring you to drink?” asked our waiter, Roberto.

“Coffee,” Jerry said without looking up from the menu.

As Roberto sped away, I said to Jerry, “You sound kind of grumpy.”

He said, “My back hurts. I didn’t mean to sound grumpy. I’ll feel better when I have coffee.”


We scooped the warm complimentary tortilla chips into the bean dip and munched as we waited. Roberto returned to our table empty-handed.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have regular coffee. We have decaf. Would you like decaf?”

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