Thursday, November 6, 2014

What's one more thing?

Raise your hand if you're behind on house cleaning.

Raise your hand if you're behind on your dictation work at your typing job.

Raise your hand if you totally need to fix up your chicken coop area give it some TLC and hard work.

Raise your hand if you haven't ridden your own horse in almost three weeks.

Raise your hand if you signed up for Rally classes with your dog and have missed three in a row, which is pretty much the whole thing, because of last minute work and babysitting scheduling issues.

Raise your hand if you signed up to be a municipal liaison for NaNoWriMo.

Raise your hand if you really suck at that sort of stuff.

Raise your hand if you've committed to "winning" NaNoWriMo and are so behind on your word count it's actually almost comical at this point.

Raise your hand if you have a bad habit of surfing  the Craigslist pet ads.

Raise your hand if your heart seized up inside of you when you saw this picture in the pet section last night - a picture of an elderly Jack Russell with bad hips, a poor old guy who was so skinny your jaw dropped:

Raise your hand if you read the plea - please rescue my friend's pets.  My friend has agreed to let them go, my friend is gone too often, is not in a good place to have pets, and the animals are going hungry.  He's agreed it's for the best to rehome them.

Raise your hand if you realized that if you just ignored this plea then you're kind of a hypocrite, because you do have the time and resources to help out a skinny dog, and if you followed through on your impulse to ignore the problem just because you're feeling overwhelmed with an imaginary word count goal, then that's kind of crappy of you're kind of a crappy human being.  Raise your hand if you texted and offered to rescue the poor thing, thinking that at the very, very least you could bring it into the vet and feed the poor thing steak while they helped him be forever free of pain.

And then... and then the person texted back that someone had already stepped up for the Jack Russell but there was some kind of a small shepherd mix, female, younger, 35-40 pounds, thin... and would you consider giving her a home?

I think we can all see where this is going.

I don't want this to be a post bashing the original owner - because, in my opinion.... the owner is doing the right thing.  It's hard to admit when you're in a bad place, but they had the strength to do so. I don't know who they are, or what they are going through, but these animals are not being removed from the home, they're being surrendered, and that takes a lot of strength.

And yes, animals shouldn't get this thin, but.... but if we crucify every person who comes forward and admits defeat, then people are just gonna keep hiding their brokenness and the animals will be the ones who pay the price.

So, honestly?  I want to take a moment to say thank you to two people - thank you to the friend who convinced their friend to rehome the animals, and thank you to the struggling person for being strong enough to do right by their pets and let them find good homes.

Is it two people I'm thanking?  One person?  Who knows?  Those two people might very well be the very same person, but  I guess I kind of feel it's none of my business, and I'd hate for them or anyone else like them to find this post and decide to just hide their problems next time.

So, I'm gonna go pick up this girl tonight:

They say she's good with kids, and she lives with two other dogs and two cats.  Here's hoping they're right.  My goal is to throw some training into her and rehome - I'm not against a second dog, but I really don't like female/female mixes, especially with little kids... but we'll see.

What's one more thing on my plate of responsibility, when it makes my heart feel happy because I know I'm doing the right thing?

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

My Brain's Idea of a Threesome

"Hey.  Hey, Becky."

"Yeah, Brain?"

"You're asleep right now."

"Yup.  Finally.  I'm so glad I'm over my recent insomnia.  So, you got any good dreams for me tonight?  You've been lacking in the originality department lately.  It's getting kinda boring."

"Oh, man, you are so lucky.  Tonight is YOUR NIGHT, Becky.  I have the most amazing dream prepared for you."

"SWEET.  Hold on, let me pull up a chair.  Tell me all about it.  I'm so excited.  I'm overdue for an awesome dream."

"So, you know that one Internet friend you have?  The one you met up with awhile back?  The one who looks kind of like that one chick you think is so unbelievably gorgeous?  The one who's on Game of Thrones?"

"Natalie Dormer?   The one who shaved her head and looks all cool as Cressida for the next Hunger Games movie?"

"Yeah, that one."

"OMG, Brain, am I going to meet her in my dreams?  THIS IS GOING TO BE SO COOL!"

"Well, not quite.  You know your friend who looks sort of like her?  FyyahChild?"  Well, she's gonna be in it."

"Oh, sweet.  FyyahChild's one of my favorite people!"

"Yup.  Only, it's gonna be a naughty dream."

"...... Oh.  Uh, okay.  Ummm.... I didn't know I swing that way?  And even if I did, I didn't even know I felt that way about her?  This is coming as kind of a surprise."

"Dude, just bear with me.  This dream gets good. "

"Okay?  ... I guess?"

"Yeah, so, in this dream you guys are hanging out and talking.  You're, like, on a lakeshore, camping or something.  And she's got this boyfriend.  And he's, like, totally hot.  He looks like that one guy you had a huge crush on in high school?  Just like him, only this guy actually has nice eyes."

"Alright, Brain, now we're talking.  Except... shouldn't The Bean be in this dream if it's a naughty dream?  I'm feeling a little weird about it."

"Hold your horses, Becky.  I'm getting there.  So anyways, there's FyyahChild and this guy, who is totally hot, and they say that since the three of you get along so well, and everyone's so close, they kind of want you to be, like, their third, if you know what I mean."

".... Brain, that sounds like I'm cheating on Joe.  I mean, I'm seriously weirded out."

"No, Becky.  Roll with it.  They want you as a monogamous third.  They'll even use the word monogamous lots of times, so you'll feel comfortable."

"I guess?  Except ... except aren't I married?"

"You're dreaming.  Look down - see your body?  You look like you're 15 again.  It's cool. Quit worrying about it."

"I know I'm dreaming, but I'm pretty sure I'm actually married in real life.  I've got this feeling that I am, and that this really isn't cool."

"Becky, I told you.  It's a monogamous threesome."

"No, seriously Brain.   Stop the dream.  I'm literally going to put a pause on this dream and figure this out.  No, quit your complaining. You shouldn't spring stuff like this on me when I'm about to wake up -  you know I can totally do that lucid dreaming thing when I'm about to wake up.  If you didn't want any input then you should have started it when I was deeper asleep. So, even if the three of us are all monogamous together, aren't I still married to the Bean?"

"Technically, yes, but..."

"But if I'm sleeping with other people, it's totally cheating.  That's not who I am."

"But you're a monogamous threesome."

"I mean, that makes a weird kind of sense in dreamland, but I can't shake the feeling it doesn't make any sense in real life.  Brain, I need to run this by The Bean first to make sure he's okay with it.  I really don't think he's gonna be down with this idea."

"He's cool with it.  See?  Read this.  It'll explain everything."

"Brain, the letters are sliding all over the page.  I can't make it out.  What does it say?"

"Try harder, Becky.  Just read it and you'll totally get it."

 "..... okay, I literally cannot read this.  Is that... is that a "4"?  You can't writes words with numbers in them.  I'm so confused right now."

"Good. Anyways, you have the paper that explains it but you're just too lazy to read it and that's not our fault.  Besides......shouldn't you make sure the whole idea is a good one, before you ask him?  It's like test-driving a car, right?  Why bother bringing it up to The Bean if it's not even gonna work out?"

".... I guess?  I mean, I think that makes sense?"

"Becky, it's a dream."

"Oooooh, yeah.  That's right.  It's a dream.  This makes total sense.  Wait, I'm feeling lost - what were we talking about?"

"Nothing.  Sit back down and enjoy the rest of this scenario.  Anyways, so you're totally agreeing to this monogamous threesome thingie with them.  And that guy, he's totally playing with your hair the way you like?"


"And then he's all running his fingers over your back, and over your ribs, and he's also giving you a back massage while FyyahChild's talking to you?"

"Mmmm.... what's she saying?"

"Who cares?  Doesn't that back massage feel good?"

"It suuuuure doooooes....Mmmmmm."

"Anyways, since you're on board, and you're all hot and bothered right now, how about you give this threesome thing a trial run, Becky??"

"MMMMMM.  Okay.  Sure.  Brain, this is amazing.   Keep it coming."

"Okay, so here goes, Becky.  Brace yourself for your first threesome dream - you've made it to 33 years old without having a dream anything like this before - it's gonna be so good.  Anyways, are you ready?"


"Okay, Becky, now there are four little boys running around you.  They're really hyper, and super noisy."

"Wait.  What??"

"Don't you remember?  Squid and the DragonMonkey are here, and they haven't had lunch yet so they're hyper and crabby, and how could you forget that you were babysitting your friend's Claire's kids?"

"What?  I don't remember this at all?  I thought we were---"

"QUICK!  ALL FOUR BOYS JUST RAN PAST YOU!  OH, CRAP, THEY'RE RUNNING STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE WATER - THEY'RE GOING TO DROWN!  THEY'RE GOING TO DROWN!  THEY'RE GOING TO ----Oh, phew.  FyyahChild just got up and is taking care of them for you.  Isn't that nice?"

".... Yes?"

"Wasn't that so nice, knowing that someone else is helping you babysit four boys?"

"....I guess?"

"Oh, here - you take the youngest boy, Adam.  He's super sleepy and needs to be rocked to sleep - FyyahChild will watch the other three boys while you rock him to sleep."

"Uh... okay.  Uhm, Brain?  What happened to that totally hot guy who looked like that one guy in high school I had a crush on?"

"Oh, he's totally gonna keep giving you a back massage while you rock Adam to sleep.  I mean, we all know Adam's super big for a three year old and your neck and upper back are totally gonna hurt otherwise.  Doesn't that feel good?  Yeah?  Don't you like your threesome?"

"..... I guess?  I just.... I just thought it would be a bit more.... racy?"

"Oh, Becky.  Why would I give you a racy dream?  You're kind of fat.  And, honestly, at 33 you're not really porn star material anymore.  You're a 33 year old mother.  Did you really think I was going to give you a sex dream?"

"You know, Brain, you're being kind of mean.  And yes, his hands feel good on my shoulders - Shhhh, shhhh, Adam.  Shhhhh, go back to sleep -  but just because I'm a fat mom doesn't mean I want to sit around and dream about mom stuff.  You promised me a naughty dream.  This is kind of boring."

"Becky, you practically drive a minivan.  You don't need dreams like that.  This is as good as it gets, so just shut up. "


And then I got so angry at how boring my dream turned out that I literally woke myself up, because THIS?  THIS WAS MY IDEA OF A THREESOME?

I mean, I was uncomfortable with the whole concept and didn't actually want to do it.....but am I really THAT boring? That was the best alternate scenario my brain could come up with?  I could have done anything... I could have turned into a secret government assassin.  I could have turned into a superhero capable of flying, or a cowboy living on the range, or an arctic explorer, or a horse, or a mountain climber, or a space ninja.

But noooooooo.  Apparently, having someone help me babysit and getting a back massage is as deep as my hidden fantasies go.   What's next on the dream horizon?  A pulse-racing, edge-of-your-seat-thriller about cutting coupons?

Man, I need to get out more.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Becky Bean Writes

I feel like for this to go down the right way, you  need to have this video (with the sound - the sound is the most important part) playing in the background while you read this post.

No, seriously, click it, let the music start, and then read the rest of this.

Is it playing?

Okay, good.  Read fast, it's only 29 seconds long.


Hey there, loyal blog follower!  Boy, are you in for a wonderful surprise!

Well, in case you didn't notice, I'm here to confirm the rumors.  Yes, my website was down for a week.  And yes, any time you typed in "" you got 404'd.


It was all soooo worth it, because of this.  Look around you - do you see this sexy new website I designed?  Are you SHOCKED AND AWED YET?

It's okay.   Shhh, shhh.  I know you're overwhelmed by how amazing it is. Do you need a moment to be amazed?  I'm going to give you a moment to be amazed. Just sit there and breathe it all in.  Soak in the majesty.

Don't you like it?  Isn't it, like, the best?  Aren't you just amazed and in awe of my totally impressive computer skills?   See that header up above?  It says Blog of Becky - yeah, that's right.  It lets you know where you are, so you don't confused. Look at that lettering. It's all... blue.  Blue, on a white background.  And it's not even centered.  Only stupid people center stuff.

And why is my website suddenly so awesome?

Well, that's easy.



Look, I admit it.  I suck at this aspect of computers.  It's actually pretty embarrassing, because I have feeling I might be good at it if I had even the most rudimentary knowledge of the terminology.

The problem is I'm completely illiterate when it comes to web design, and I never actually get around to learning anything about it until OMG I PROCRASTINATED AND EVERYTHING JUST BLEW UP AND I NEED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW.

I'm embarrassed to say this is not the first time this has happened.

Usually I desperately try to fix it... and in doing so I break it worse.  Then I have to Google a how-to YouTube video on how to fix what I just demolished. And then I have to search the Internet for some kind of free shareware program that gives me the tools to fix it. And then I have to Google a how-to video on how to use that program.  And then... and then....

And then eventually I just get really, really angry and decide SCREW IT spend the rest of the evening finding find funny pictures on the Internet to help me calm down.

Anyways, here's a little back story before I get to my main point:

Part of the reason I went to that writing conference back in August was because in my head I've always considered September 2014 as the official kick-off date for me being a "real writer".

I don't remember if I ever said this, but the whole reason this blog exists is because I needed to get over my anxiety over letting people read my writing.  My words have always felt very personal to me - I enjoy writing.  Sometimes, when the words come just right, it feels like I open up a vein inside me and the words flow like music.

Back before I started this blog, I couldn't imagine anything worse than spilling out your very essence onto paper, showing it to someone, and then having them think it was crap.  It was better just to keep your writing to yourself than to risk being hurt, right?


In fact, even when I was living by the motto I knew it was a crappy motto.  Besides, I always liked the idea of being published.  On the other hand, I'd done enough research to know that getting something out in print is never easy, but your odds of "making it" go reaaaaaaally down when you never actually submit anything.

So, I created this blog.  My first few posts were crawling with so much anxiety it almost pains me to read them nowadays, but I leave them up because it reminds me of how far I've come.  Eventually I really began opening up, and then Mugwump found me and directed actual readers here, and now I've made a whole bunch of wonderful friends from this blog.

(Poor Bean.  Most women have normal friends - friends with names like Michelle, or Kelly.   Me?  I'm always talking about people called Fyaahchild or Mugwump or RedHorse, or whatever.  Bean, I swear they're real, and not just imaginary.  You believe me, right?)

Where was I?

Ah, yes.  So, I started writing, and as people responded I realize - dude.  This is fun.  I would actually like to do this for a living one day.  I even got my first angry troll who went out of her way to make me feel like crap for a bad decision I once made.... and it occurred to me - huh.  Well, that's it.  I was honest about a horrible decision, someone followed me around and rubbed my face in how crappy I was... and I survived.

Surely future literary criticism couldn't be any worse than that?

Even though I knew I wanted to pursue writing, I didn't really want to begin until I had the time to do it right.  Despite the fact I had been blessed with such low-energy, polite children,

I knew I couldn't devote the kind of time and effort necessary to succeed at writing until the DragonMonkey at least hit kindergarten.  Man, how long was that going to be?  September 2014?  Wow, what a long time away.

And then all of a sudden it was actually almost September, and I realized - whoa.  It was time to start making plans to take this writing thing seriously.  I mean, I've been writing this whole time, but there's a difference between jotting down stories and actually approaching it as a business and stuff.

So, I went to a writing conference last month.  Remember?  I took a picture with Diana Gabaldon's butt?  Well, I'm not going to lie.  That was the most exciting moment of the entire conference, and maybe my entire year.

However, the second most exciting thing was that I had the chance to sit down with a real-live publisher and talk to her about some ideas I had.  I mean, sure I had to pay $30 to do it.  And sure, I had to do it under the guise of "Uh, I write on this super small-potatoes, practically non-existent blog?  And, uh, I write funny stories?  Mostly about my kids?  And, uh, I've got a sort-of book idea?"

I mean, I didn't go in there unprepared.  Oh, no!  I totally sat down for about 30 minutes before the session and jotted down a pitch which sounded a tad bit more professional.  Even better, the two sessions I went to before then were "What is Author Platform" and "The Perfect Pitch" - so when I went in there I actually managed to sound semi-educated about marketing and whatnot.

Still, the idea wasn't really to sell her on a book - it was more to pick her brain.  I wanted to hear her talk about what it might take to transition some of my blog posts into a book - how much harder is it to market than traditional fiction writing?  Where there any caveats?  Did she have any suggestions, etc, etc?  Since I was paying her for her time, I figured she would probably give me an honest opinion about the idea

Plus, I wanted to get my first pitch session over with.  Eventually, some day soon I hope, I'm going to have a fiction book in ready-to-submit form.  When that day comes I am going to be crawling out of my skin with nerves about submitting it to agents and publishers and all of that fun stuff. Why not practice a bit, and get the nerves out of the way?

The money was well-spent because the publisher knew her stuff, and had a ton of useful insight which she shared.  And then she did something completely unexpected:

She handed me her card and said, "It sounds interesting.  Why don't you send me some samples?"

And then I nodded and took the card and walked out of the pitch session going, "Dude.... did she.... did I have a card....  Wait.  What?"

I came home and immediately began scrambling to seem more professional.  I mean, okay.  I didn't want to seem TOO professional.  The potential title I gave her for my potential book, which I came up with about forty minutes before I met with her, was "Quit Peeing on the Dog".  I don't think you can pitch a book like that and then try to sell yourself as hoity-toity and uber-professional.

On the other hand, there's all of this annoying business stuff that comes hand in hand with the business of writing - author platforms, and business plans, and web pages, and social media presence...and....


It sounded... boring, and a little overwhelming.  So, being the dutiful woman that I am, I decided to ignore all of that and procrastinate instead.  I created a Becky Bean Writes Facebook page, and made my real life Facebook page open to the public, and piddled around with my blog - and you can see how well that turned out.

One day, when you grow up, you can succeed at life just like me.  

On the other hand, did you see my new URL?  I picked it out myself and do kind of love it.  It even comes with its own fancy-schmancy email address:

Dude, I feel a little bit like an obnoxious kid - I'm handing this email address out left and right.  Is it weird that I'm this excited about not having a gmail address anymore?  I'm practically accosting strangers on the street, like a little kid that just had a birthday and can't stop telling EVERYONE.  Hi, I'm Becky, and I'm "this many" years old.  Shut up.  I know that's a lot of fingers.  Whatever, you're distracting me.  Did you know I have a new email address? It's  That's right - it's not, or  Wanna hear it again?  You don't?  Well, too bad.  It's  It, like, has my  name in it.  That's because I'm important.  

Last week I even got all excited when they passed around a Kindergarten parent sign-in sheet thingie at the DragonMonkey's school and it had a little space for my email address.  What's that?  You said you want my email address?  Well, stand back and prepare to be AMAZED.

So I started writing in really big letters because I really am kind of obnoxiously proud of it....and that's when I realized... dude.  It's a really long email address.  I had to scratch it out twice because I kept not leaving  enough room for it, and in the end it just looked like the pen vomited a bunch of ink on the paper and then sneezed some really cramped letters that trailed up the side of the page in an unreadable scrawl completely at odds with all the other parent's neat printing and legible email addresses.

Whatever.  They all had and and email addresses, so what would they know?

Moving on.

After I bought my new URL last week I tried to forward it.  And when I did that, I broke the old URL forwarding.  And then while trying to fix the forwarding on the old URL I managed to break everything.

And then I got annoyed at trying to fix URLs so I decided that instead of fixing all the redirecting URLs I should change to a new template instead.

And so, right after I broke about a bazillion URLS I broke my blog's template.  And then I tried to upload the backup copy of my old template and I broke the backup template as well.

Does anyone want to hire me as a website designer for their enemies? Anyone?  Anyone at all?  No?

I spent a week straight trying to fix the mess.  Every day after work (I am doing full-time geriatric care right now) I would come upstairs to my office and spend a couple of hours  cussing and bursting out into angry tears calmly trying to fix things.  Last night, after a week's worth tears and anguish, I threw in the towel and begged The Bean for help.

And then The Bean walked upstairs and un-clicked a few boxes and fixed the forwarding in about 2 minutes.

I should have been grateful.  I really should have.  A nice wife would have clapped her hands in delight and then bounced over and hugged her husband with one cute little foot in the air and said something like "You're so smart and your biceps are so sexy!" or whatever it is nice wives do.

I didn't do any of that.

Instead, I just got really pissy and grumpy that he was able to fix it so easily.  In fact, I didn't just dislike him, I downright hated him. I'd been fighting with it for a week, and he just clicked a few buttons and fixed it in two minutes?  He was a stupid stupidhead, that's what he was.  Stupid, stupidhead Bean.

And then stupid stupidhead Bean actually looked at my gorgeous "new" website and said, "What the hell happened to your blog?"

And I looked at him at him for a moment

before calmly replying, "I was trying to upload a template and it didn't work.  See?  This template right here - I thought it looked clean and professional."

And then The Bean, who sometimes has no sense of self-preservation, looked at the template and said, "That one?  Why?  Your old blog looked better."

And to my credit I didn't go all stabby-stabby on him.  Instead, I just turned off the computer and huffed off to bed, and when he crawled in to go to sleep, do you know what I did? I totally didn't let his ankle touch mine, even though that's how we normally sleep.  HA!  I sure taught him, didn't I?

It occurs to me that I really need to find a better way of dealing with anger other than creating a passive-aggressive space between us in bed.

Also, I probably shouldn't have been so angry at someone who fixed my blog and then complimented the old design of my website - the design I created myself.  Hey, Bean?

So, in case you were wondering about that whole publisher deal, no. No, I haven't gotten anything off to the publisher yet, because life hands me magical things like publisher cards and then I squander opportunities.  I'm cool like that.

I'm hoping to get something off to them in the next week or two.  I have to admit, my hopes aren't really high, especially considering how much time has lapsed- but I am actually okay with being turned down.  I'll be a bit disappointed, sure, but for me?  For me this is only the beginning.  I've given myself 18 months to try to make some traction in the writing world - and getting an invite to submit on my first try feels like a huge win already.

So, there you have it.  Welcome to my new website.

Becky Bean Writes?

Why, yes.  Yes she does.

PS:  Have you ever told yourself you're not allowed to go to bed until you finish a blog post?  And then it's almost 10 at night, and you're EXHAUSTED, because you have to get up at 5:30 to squeeze in one more day of training before your half-marathon - the half marathon you are woefully unprepared for and are probably going to have to walk more than half of?

And then you realize that about 80% of this post has started or ended with some kind of a conjunction, and shouldn't you actually wait until the morning and proof read this instead of just typing it and sending out a rough draft?  I mean, it's a blog post about wanting to be a professional writer, for heaven's sake.  And besides, you forgot to mention how you are working with an actual for-real web designer who is going to migrate your blog over to Wordpress and then create a fancy, personalized new webpage just for you.  How are you going to work that in seamlessly?  You should go back, proofread, fix everything, and then work that line in somewhere so people realize you at least learned from your week of anguish.

And then you realize:  No.  Your alarm goes off at 5:30, so just click publish and go to bed.

And so you do.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Sorry Guys

You know how some bloggers do all sorts of cool stuff behind the scenes, and then one day they reveal their cool new blog?

Well, I wanted it to be like that, but it turns out I suck at this sort of thing.  So... I'm sorry.  My blog is somewhat broken right now, and will hopefully be fixed tonight, tomorrow.... eventually.

Please excuse the constantly-changing, crappy layout as I fumble my way around.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Today is September 11th

Today is September 11th.

Do you know what I'm thinking about right now?

Holy crap, I have to run a half marathon in 10 days. I'm so under-prepared that it's not comical, it's just sad.  I'm probably going to hurt myself.  Oh well... To Finish is To Win, right?

Speaking of winning, or rather not-winning...I didn't get a chance to shower after my run this morning.  In fact, I didn't even have time to change out of my workout clothes before I dropped off the DragonMonkey at kindergarten, Squid at daycare, and then me at work..  I hope I don't smell. There's a shower here - I wonder if it would be weird if I used it?  I mean, I do the laundry anyways, so I could wash my towel, and nobody would be the wiser....

But if I took a shower, then I'd have to get dressed back into my gross workout clothes again... and that might feel even nastier.

Today is September 11th, and do you know what I'm doing this evening?

Well, I am getting off work at 5. I need to pick up the kids by 5:10 at the very latest - the daycare lady has a back-to-school thingie she needs to attend for her own kid.  How am I supposed to leave at 5 and then have the kids out of her house by 5:10? I swear it takes them 10 minutes just to put on their shoes. Maybe I can leave a few minutes early?

Oh, man, I really need to get to WinCo tonight, too.  I haven't gone since I last humiliated myself, and I had to break down and go to Safeway this morning.  I spent $30 and bought got two small bags of groceries.  If I spent $30 at WinCo I'd walk away with at least five bags of groceries.

But wait, crap... I told the boys I'd take them to go see the How to Train Your Dragon 2 at the cheap theaters tonight... do I have time to make it to WinCo and back by the 7pm showing?  Probably not.  Ugh, I wish the day had more hours in it.

It's September 11th, and I really need to do a load of black clothes - we're totally out of socks, and my running pants could probably stand up and run away on their own.  Heck, maybe I have done a load of blacks, and it's just sitting there, squashed, at the bottom of the gigantic mountain of clean-but-unfolded laundry I've been doing my best to ignore.  I hate laundry.  I'm 33 years old and it's the bane of my existence.  That must mean I have a pretty good life... but that doesn't make me hate it any less.

It's September 11th, and thirteen years ago I had to force myself to move past the cold queasiness that burned a leaden hole in my stomach.  Today I continue my annual tradition of boring things, and every year it's easier, .

Don't get me wrong - I fully support the memorials and the remembrances and the honoring of the people who died that day.

But for me?

For me, every September 11th is all about mundane, boring, inconsequential tasks.  I know my passive-aggressive indifference doesn't actually accomplish anything, but it makes me feel better. I consider it my way of giving a giant middle finger (or two) to everything Al Qaeda did that day.

What's that?  Oh, that's right.  It's the anniversary of that day again, isn't it?  That day you killed yourself and murdered thousands of innocents in a spectacular fashion in order to try to get some kind of point across?  Huh?  I'm sorry, I can't really remember what that point of all that was, just that all those deaths were really sad.  Hey, do you have any gluten-free flour I could borrow?  My barn owner's husband is sick, and he's Celiac too, and I want to make him a loaf of zucchini/blueberry gluten free bread.  It's amazing - you should try it...

Oh, crap, that's right.  I can't borrow flour from you - you aren't alive anymore. You died trying to send some kind of message of hate which was supposed to drastically alter my way of life, didn't you?  I totally forgot about you.  Whoops.  How embarrassing for both of us.  Anyways, would you look at the time?  If I'm going to make that loaf of bread I really need to stop by Safeway and grab some Bob's Red Mills gluten-free flour.  I bet it's going to be $6 for the world's tiniest bag.  There goes this week's grocery budget.  Man, I wish I had time to get to WinCo today.

In case you're curious, here's the Blueberry Zucchini Bread recipe  - I shamelessly stole it from  It's amazing, and if you want to make it gluten-free all you have to do is substitute in gluten-free flour instead of regular flour.  Also, you definitely want to add some xantham gum to your gluten free flour - it makes everything bind together so it's nice and light and fluffy. Just check the side of the bag for how much to use - there's a chart there.

Also, if you're super sensitive, make sure you purchase gluten-free vanilla extract.  I don't know what is in there that makes some people react, but it can cause problems.

I made two delicious loaves with this recipe.  I can't recommend it enough!

Blueberry Zucchini Bread
recipe image
Submitted By: LAUJRA
Photo By: dabblingdiva
Prep Time: 15 Minutes
Cook Time: 50 Minutes
Ready In: 1 Hour 45 Minutes
Servings: 12
"Blueberries and zucchini baked up into delicious little summertime bread loaves!"
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup vegetable oil
3 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups white sugar
2 cups shredded zucchini
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
1 pint fresh blueberries
1.Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease 4 mini-loaf pans.
2.In a large bowl, beat together the eggs, oil, vanilla, and sugar. Fold in the zucchini. Beat in the flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon. Gently fold in the blueberries. Transfer to the prepared mini-loaf pans.
3.Bake 50 minutes in the preheated oven, or until a knife inserted in the center of a loaf comes out clean. Cool 20 minutes in pans, then turn out onto wire racks to cool completely.
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