Picturechina 077
Shenyang, China. That red ribbon is to keep away the bad or evil spirits. 

Before you settle in for a batshit read about how yours truly is being haunted by actual spirits from beyond the pale…uh, sorry.

I’m rather spooked [as in freaked out!] by my recent string of almost victories in the wide and varied field of writing. I’m expecting some real hammer to fall on my head. An actual hammer to counterbalance the smidgeons of somewhat successful news received last week regarding various projects. Which taps into how superstitious I am! Goodness gracious! I mentioned said projects in the other post I posted today. The conclusion of my three-part take down of a Hundred Days of Things I Love.

There’s actually a fourth thing in that list of three. I’m being included in a reading list for a university in Macao. I made a reading list! Students will be reading my stuff and having discussions! Something I wrote will be deconstructed and put together in new and probably very very very interesting ways! This has, in fact, happened before. Having my stuff read in a classroom is not a brand new spring awakening. [I still have not bothered to look up the plot to that show. I suck!] So maybe that breaks the spell/curse? And tonight, we have all the ingredients to make TACOS.

American tacos. Yeah, don’t get excited. Hamburger, store bought shells, shredded fake cheese, tomatoes, cukes, onions, salsa, lettuce. I might even pop out and get some SOUR CREAM. I love tacos. They make me happy. It’s like Christmas showed up. A real Christmas full of miracles and joy and good smells and happy happy smile faces. And I’m…spooked.


What bad things are heading my way? I’m naturally a pessimist. [What?? No!! Not you, Ms. Ann! Say it ain’t so!!] Oh…sometimes the voices in my head write stuff for me. Did I not ever mention that ever? Okay. Well. Mentioned!! I tend to seek out the negative and downer and bad and awful. Because it’s easier? It feels right? It’s a comfortable pattern of self-destruction? Because I’ve trained myself to trust the bad stuff over the good stuff?? Ugh? Actual ghosts are controlling my thoughts??? I slipped one in for those still hoping for some batshit off the wall nod to ghosts, spirits, eidolons, specters, haunts, demons, spirits of the dead, devil, phantom, shadows, shade, phantasm, manes, visitor, ethereal being, or otherwise dead and came back to cause some shit sorts.

I know I’m not alone in this one. At all. Those who cringe at good fortune. As it is usually followed by actual floods, tornadoes, deluges, dust storms, smackings, slappings, bank error and now you owe thousands; broken bones from tripping over your dog in the dark, food poisoning from granny’s birthday cake which your family bought from the mark down racks at Wal-Mart; stonings, flat tires, death, a weird pimple full of weird smelly fluids that your doctor [if you can afford even going to the low-cost clinic that’s open once a year now due to budget costs] thinks might be linked to your entire intestinal system being full of cancer and tape worms…I mean, there’s a list here. One little good thing happens or comes to pass and…OMG WHAT THE HELL IS ABOUT TO DESCEND ON MY HEAD LIKE THE BLACK PLAGUE?

I feel so normal! Others go through this!!

I’m not a weird singularity stranded on this awful planet far far far from my alien outer space homeland. I’m a human. I’m not a stranger in a strange land. I’m not full of hot ices. I’m not incubating my entire home planet’s remaining eggs in my chest. [Because those from other planets might not be built like humans, hello. I’ve read enough sci fi to dimly conclude that Captain Kirk might not be able to mate with all the Space Princesses he ran across in his travels. No matter how busty and painted with green eye shadow they were!]

Where was this going? Voices?? A little help here? VOICES?

Shut up! We can hear you just fine, lady! Yeah, we’re right here. We’re not flipping deaf, you silly bint!

Suddenly, you’re all British, voices?

Uh, no. Why?

Um, bint is a British word.

So now words have NATIONALITIES? What kinda weirdo grammar goose-stepping asshole are YOU?


Hey!! Get back to your blog!! Remember?? Your  two-peat here. You just posted some blather about 2014 and now you’re backdoor bragging about some minor maybe good shit that maybe might happen but you’re being coyly vague and not actually listing what the projects are. Or is that passive-aggressive? We can’t keep the new-fangled terms for being a diva straight.

Maybe you voices need a nap? You’re very crabby.

Fuck you! Oh yeah, tonight, we’re going to tell you about those pants and what you look like in them!! Bwha ha ha ha. It’s going to be a riot. For us. For us, baby! Oh, could you do us in the hot pink option for text color? Bob’s your uncle!

[[That’s what goes on in my head ALL DAY LONG. And sometimes into the night…All. The. Time.]]

Oh yes, feeling spooked by tiny successes. Haunted by the waiting for the universe to swing the giant balance over to ‘Must counteract Ann’s Tiny Successes’. As it will. As it must. Here come the glooms. There they are, waving at me from the deep shadows of my own brain. Little blobby shadows waiting to blobbily pounce and sink their dull little claws into the startled meat of my brain. Wahooo!!!

Did I mention the Boise River is at flood stage and the stink of rotting mouse corpse had reached my nostrils? Consider it mentioned, lovebugs!




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