David S. Atkinson's Blog, page 272

Day 8 Without My Wife: Making It So She Doesn’t Know What I’ve Been Up To While She Was Gone

Today is the last day my wife is gone on her girls only trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas. She’ll be back very early in the AM Sunday. As such, I really need to get the house cleaned up so she doesn’t know what I’ve been up to while she was gone. First things first: I’ve got to get Kelly LeBrock out of here.

There’s so much to get done beyond that, though. All the stuff that got sucked out of the living room up the chimney and shot into the backyard needs to be brought back inside. I’ve got to somehow reanimate the suspended animation grandparents hidden in my pantry. That room that went all blue needs to be painted or something, and I have no idea what I’m going to do about that missile that’s stuck in the center of the house.

In short, it’s a big mess. Kelly LeBrock is probably the most important thing, though. I’m guessing my wife will freak most if she comes home and finds Kelly LeBrock here dressed in some kind of skimpy outfit. Not that a missile is going to make her happy either, but a skimpily attired 80′s era Kelly LeBrock is a different thing altogether.

I really need to get this cleaned up.

Of course, there is always the chance that I’m confusing my week with Weird Science again. If so, then I probably don’t need to do much because I probably didn’t do much over the past week besides read.

Day 7 Without My Wife: Booby Traps

My wife is still on her girls only trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas. I think it’s time to booby trap the house.

You see, I happened to find these screaming personal alarms online. They’re $27 each, but I think they might be worth it. When you pull the chain, they apparently scream really, really loud. There are definitely some possibilities here.

Since my wife left me on my own for so long, I think I should position these in various places of hers around the house. I could put them in her dresser drawers, attach them to various clothing items in her closet, hide them inside the kitchen cup boards that mainly store her stuff, sneak them into the trunk of the car, and so on. All I have to do is fix them such that the chain gets pulled when she opens whatever.

My wife goes to get a pair of socks: AAAAIIIIIIGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

My wife opens the trunk to load up groceries at Target: AAAAIIIIIIGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

My wife gets clothes out of the closet when getting dressed in the morning: AAAAIIIIIIGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

The possibilities are endless. Hidden well, this could go on for months, whether or not she kills me first. At $27 a shot, it could get a bit pricey. However, you can’t really put a price on teaching my wife that it is better not to leave me on my own.

Day 6 Without My Wife: Saving Her The Snow

Yet another day goes by with my wife on her girls only trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas. As of yet, I’m not finished thinking of various things to do to irritate her while she is gone. My next idea? Saving the snow for her.

You see, she left late at night on last Friday. It was warm then. Monday through Tuesday, as many of you know, we had another April snow here in Denver. It was a crappy couple of days. Meanwhile, my wife was enjoying the sun and warmth in the Bahamas. By the time she gets back, the snow will be gone and we’ll be in the 70′s.  She got to miss out on the snow and cold…or did she?

I think I should go around Denver and collect up all the snow that remains. Then I should save it. You might think that could be difficult, but I have a freezer and a deep freeze. I might have to toss all my frozen food in order to be able to do this, but I think it’ll be worth it. I can fit a lot of snow in that deep freeze. Then, right before she gets in the house, I can dump it all on her side of the bed. If I’m nice, I’ll put down plastic first.

Isn’t that a good idea? That way she won’t have missed the April snow by having been in the Bahamas. It’s just the considerate thing to do in this situation. I am such a good husband, aren’t I?

Day 5 Without My Wife: Messing With The Food

Well, my wife is still on her girls only trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas and I’m still thinking of various things to do to irritate her while she is gone. I’m thinking it’s time to go into the kitchen with some sticky notes and a pen.

Now, I’m not thinking of something like Amelia Gray’s Threats here or anything. I’m thinking more like what I did with my wife’s crackers. You see, for some reason, one time she stored crackers in a tupperware container on the kitchen counter instead of the original box. I wasn’t sure why she did that, but it looked weird. I put a sticky note on it that read: Cracker Jail. Took her like a week to notice that.

I’m thinking of something like that, only I need to go through the kitchen and leave sticky notes on all of her food. If this is going to work, it needs to be meticulous and thorough. A note or two won’t do.

Perhaps I could put a note on the ketchup that reads: Why just burgers and fries? Try me on cereal! Or maybe I could put a note on the pancake batter that reads: Baby, you’re too sexy to be pouring your own syrup. I could even put a note on her peanut butter candies that reads: Warning: leaving a trail of these candies on the floor may attract extraterrestrials. The possibilities are endless, but the notes needs to be on everything in order for this to be both irritating to my wife and really funny to me.

Shouldn’t be too hard, right? I’ve certainly got the time…and the more time I sit in that house by myself the more odd ideas I come up with. I’m not certain it was a good idea to leave me on my own, but this is just the situation we find ourselves in.

Day 4 Without My Wife: Pausing My Whining To Mourn Mud Luscious Press

As I’ve discussed previously, I’m on my own because my wife took off for a girls only trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas and I’ve been thinking of various things to do to irritate her while she is gone. However, after the news about Mud Luscious Press closing (as well as their imprint Nephew though apparently and thankfully not their imprint Blue Square Press) I’m going to take a break from my whining to mourn Mud Luscious Press.

(Note: for the moment, you can still get their remaining titles through SPD, Amazon, or Powell’s…but I’m sure these will go fast and then be hard to find. Move quick if you want one.)

After all, this press (and its imprints) are wonderful. I’ve adored books such as The Alligators of Abraham by Robert Kloss, Cataclysm Baby by Matt Bell, We Take Me Apart by Molly Gaudry, Billie the Bull by xTx, The Iguana Complex by Darby Larson, and others. As a writer, I’m depressed that I’m never going to be able to have a book published by Mud Luscious Press or Nephew. However, the worse loss is as a reader.

After all, I’d gotten to the point with Mud Luscious Press that if I was looking for something to read and didn’t know anything about a book, the Mud Luscious Press label was enough for me to pick something up. Even if I don’t know anything about one of their books, I know from all of their books that I’ve read that I’ll definitely enjoy it. That’s a hell of a good thing to say about a press, something I have come to develop for few other presses (like Dzanc Books, Atticus Books, and such). There are some great independent publishers out there and I’m sure I’ll develop the same confidence in others that I’ve developed for Mud Luscious Press, but let’s face it…one of the lights in the sky has just winked out.

In any event, though this is sad and I don’t specifically know why Mud Luscious Press closed, I can understand. Independent publishers work extremely hard and could probably make more money (in the case that they even make any money at all) tap dancing downtown for spare change. They do what they do because life is better that way, and no one can ask anyone to shoulder that kind of burden any longer than they themselves volunteer for. Mud Luscious Press will be missed, and certainly saluted for all the good they brought to the world while they were shouldering the burden.

Day 3 Without My Wife: My Wife’s Favorite TV Programs

As I’ve discussed previously, I’m on my own because my wife took off for a girls only trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas. As such, I’m finding various things to do to irritate her while she is gone. Today I’m thinking I might watch some TV. In particular, I might watch her TV programs.

You see, I normally don’t watch very much TV. Part of that is the fact that I am just not into many programs right now. However, part of that is the fact that my wife watches a number of programs and has control of the TV. I am discouraged from actually watching with her because I tend to ask questions. That is not allowed. Instead, I usually put on earphones and read so we can still at least spend time in the same room.

However, since she isn’t here…maybe I could watch all of her favorite TV programs. Scandal, Revenge, Hell’s Kitchen, stuff like that. I’m not sure which ones have new episodes that my wife hasn’t seen, or even if the shows are on hiatus right now, but I’m sure something she watches has to have new episodes. I don’t really want to watch, but the fun wouldn’t really start until after I’d watched.

For example, perhaps I could send her email messages with hints about what is going on in the respective show. I’m betting that could get me in a bit of trouble.

Or, perhaps I could not tell her what I’m doing. Then, I’d wait until she got back and started catching up. I’d walk through the room and say: Who’d have ever thought that [whatever was about to happen next]?

Now, there’s a fine line here between comedy and my wife murdering me. Let’s hope I can manage that balance. We’ll just have to see. If something happens to me just after she gets back, then you know I got it wrong. Pray for me.

Day 2 Without My Wife: Cutting My Fingernails

As I mentioned yesterday, I’m on my own because my wife took off for a trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas on which I was not allowed to go and I’m thinking of things to do while she’s gone to irritate her. Today? Well, today I’m going to clip my fingernails.

Now, you might not think this a particularly interesting idea. However, this is going to really torque my wife off.

You see, my wife is a fiend for getting her back scratched. I like to keep my fingernails pretty short, but my wife hates that because short nails make me a poor backscratcher. As such, whenever I want to clip my fingernails, I have to scratch her back first. Sometimes for around a half hour. However, she isn’t here right now…

That’s right. I can clip my fingernails today and there isn’t anything she can do about it. I don’t even have to scratch her back first. Frankly, she should have checked on the state of my fingernails before she left, but I guess she ran out of time. Now I’m going to clip them and she won’t get her back scratched first.

Guess she’ll just have to hope that my fingernails regrow soon.

Day 1 Without My Wife: Chipotle?

Well, my wife left late last night for a trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas to which I was not allowed to go. Immediately, people began asking me what I was going to do while she was gone to mess with her since I wasn’t allowed to go on the trip. My first thought is: Chipotle.

That’s right, I think I might get Chipotle for every single breakfast, dinner, lunch, brunch, snack, or whatever for the entire time she is gone. Chipotle in the morning, Chipotle in the evening, Chipotle at suppertime.

Now, this might not sound that interesting at first. Heck it doesn’t really sound that interesting to me. Chipotle is okay, but I’m not that overly fond of it.

So why would I eat there constantly while my wife is gone? Well, the fact is that my wife adores Chipotle. She’d eat there every meal if she could. I get so sick of taking her there all the time that she really has to work to get me to take her there. As such, it would totally drive her up the wall if I ate nothing but Chipotle while she was gone and she didn’t get any. Heck, after that much Chipotle, I’d probably never want to eat there again. She’d be completely pissed.

That’s why this seems like a good idea. I should eat Chipotle constantly and then post photos to Facebook each time I do. Since my wife is out of the country, she couldn’t do anything about it. I know she’d hear about it though, and that would be the best part.

Hope you’re having a good time, Hon!

“Bones Buried in the Dirt”: One Of My Own Bones

As I’ve mentioned before, my book Bones Buried in the Dirt (available from Amazon, Tattered Cover, of the Bookworm in Omaha) is centered around the kind of childhood moments that never fully get absorbed. You know, the kind of things that at most semi-fade from memory and your brain cruelly and randomly reminds you of from time to time. What I’m not sure whether or not I’ve shared is the particular ‘bone’ that was the main inspiration behind the book. To remedy that, I thought I’d share it today.

You see, my parents had a close friend that they’d known from way back before they were married. Unlike many such friendships, they were still close after my parents got married and had children and this friend did not (I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of him dating anyone while I’ve been alive). They probably weren’t as close as they had been before my sister and I were born, but they were still pretty close. He’d come and hang out to watch football games, we’d have dinners together, go on extended vacations together (even camping), and at one point he even lived in our house. Obviously, even though it could sometimes be kind of weird because of my sister and me, they were still pretty close.

This friend even sometimes gave my sister and I Christmas presents. I can remember that he did for sure at least one year, because that’s the incident related to this memory.

The friend had gotten me this toy car. It operated by jamming this ridged plastic strip into the car and pulling it out quickly, the ridges engaging gears inside the car, then setting the car down to race off. The toy was really popular at the time and I’d really wanted one. The problem? He hadn’t gotten the real one, it was a cheaper knock off brand instead. The ridged plastic strip of the real one had a tapered end so that it could be inserted into the car easier, quicker, and with less potential for damage. The ridged plastic strip of the knock off had a flat end that made it much harder to insert, operate the toy, and ended up jamming frequently so the ridged plastic strip would bunch up and eventually break.

“Oh,” I said, somewhat disappointed but definitely without thinking what I was saying, “it’s the cheaper one.”

Of course, my parents gasped, horrified. The friend started laughing, finding the fact that I’d just been rude enough to say that somewhat funny at the same time that it was awkward because he was likely offended and embarrassed. I realized what I’d done even before I’d finished saying it, cringing, but it was too late to stop.

And that’s the ‘bone.’ It happened when I was something like 6 or 7, but I’ve never forgotten. When a situation comes up where I’m supposed to be grateful, even almost thirty years later, my brain will bring this up: Hey! Remember that time that you were a rude little prick? Since I can’t fix what I did, I just wish my brain could forget it and move on. However, my brain is of a different opinion. Sometimes it just randomly reminds me of that incident even when a gratitude situation isn’t present. I sometimes think my brain just likes to torture me with stuff like that.

Anyway, thinking about that incident was what gave me the idea for Bones Buried in the Dirt (available from Amazon, Tattered Cover, of the Bookworm in Omaha). It was the kind of incident that I was trying to build in the individual stories of the book. I know I’ve mentioned this to some people, but I didn’t think I’d shared it with the public at large. As such, I thought I should.

Oddest Tea Name I’ve Ever Seen: Evening in Missoula

I just saw a bag of the oddest named tea I’ve ever seen: Evening in Missoula from  Montana Tea & Spice. I’m not a big tea drinker so I don’t know a great deal about tea. However, I’ve never seen tea with a name like this.

I mean, I always tea was named exotic sounding things to suggest the luxurious and dreamy kind of experience that the tea was supposed to provide (outside more mundane descriptive named teas such as ginger peach or chamomile). I thought tea was supposed to be named things like Bengal Spice, or Three Gardens Breakfast. ‘Evening in Missoula’ doesn’t exactly evoke the same kind of imagery for me.

Sure, I’m sure Missoula is a nice place in Montana, trees and mountains or something like that. Still, I don’t exactly call up peaceful and luxurious images when I think of Missoula. Missoula: the city of dreams, said no one ever.

Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps Missoula is an extremely idyllic place and that just isn’t as well-known. However, if so, then it still is weird to put in a tea name like that since you need the name to be known in order to evoke the appropriate imagery.

Regardless, Montana Tea & Spice probably picked Missoula because they are a Montana company. Hence, they probably wanted to use Montana locations in their tea names to go with their identity as a Montana tea company. That’s probably the case, but that doesn’t make Evening in Missoula seem any less strange to me. I’ll probably just stick with coffee anyway.