Defying all logic and sense

           I have no business sitting here writing. It’s not that I don’t have a right to; it’s more that I REALLY SHOULD BE doing something else.  “Something else” is an understatement, an expression that represents the tiniest part of a much larger whole, an unimaginative synecdoche, if you will. Because “something else” should really read “a bazillion tasks to get me ready for my trip to London tomorrow.” Not only am I avoiding all my tasks and engaging in this self-absorbed act of expression, but I also took a break from THAT to look up the word “synecdoche” to see if it was the figure of speech I was looking for. It was. What is wrong with me? I will focus my attention on a mother load of minutia—that’s an oxymoron—rather than clean my house or pack. I also had to Google “oxymoron.” Not to check the meaning of that word but to try to retrieve that word because it would not rise from my middle-aged-should-be-focused-on-cleaning-and-packing brain. Once I Googled “literary term for two opposing ideas like ‘lost in a crowd’” and saw “oxymoron,” I said to myself, “Right, ‘oxymoron,’ that is the word I was looking for." I probably would have eventually thought of the word “oxymoron” if I just sat here long enough, but why do that? I have things to do…eventually. And, the greater point is we never have to not know anything because of the gift of the Internet. However, I did Google “What is wrong with me?” and I did not get a definitive response. I stopped writing for a bit to ask Surrey, too, but she was no help at all.

            I grew up in a household where we were taught you must scrub the house to sparkling clean before a trip. This was nonsensical to me as a child because I thought what was the point of cleaning the house when no one would be there to enjoy the clean? But we HAD to do it. We became sweaty nut-jobs scrubbing the place; we fought like cats and dogs and ran around like maniacs packing, dusting, putting away clutter, vacuuming, doing dishes, etc…By the time we left together on vacation, we hated our lives and each other. BUT, the house was clean.

            I am currently making a mockery of this sacred family tradition. My house is a shit storm right now and even though it makes me really uncomfortable, because of all the years of clean-your-house-before-vacation conditioning, I am going to leave it this way for five weeks. It really does make me nervous, and I am not sure why. This is a huge act of defiance on my part. However, lately, defying old traditions seems to be what my soul is asking of me. More on that in a later blog.

            I got a pedicure today. (I wasn’t spending my time cleaning, so why not get a pedicure? Even though my toes will likely rarely be seen because the weather in London calls for closed shoes. ) What I am about to tell you is 100% true. No embellishment, I swear. A young adult with curly red hair and a few extra pounds, which looked smashing on her, came in the nail salon, looked at me for a while and then said, “Are you famous in London?” (A reminder: I am not making this up.) I said, “Not that I know of.” She said, “You look like you are.” She had no idea I was leaving for London tomorrow. I am pretty sure I am not famous there, but, still, the statement was bizarre. Also, this girl looked exactly like the heroine of my novel, Danielle. Nail salon girl was named Kim, but I am telling you, if her name were Danielle, I would have freaked. Danielle’s image is on the cover of OCD, THE DUDE AND ME; although, her face is covered up with a purple bowling ball. But, that’s okay because I got to see her face in the flesh right there in the nail salon. She was beautiful. It was as if I created this character and she became real and got her nails done with me. She had a cosmic connection to me somehow, for sure; I mean she read the London vibe off of me without me even opening my mouth. In the course of conversation, Kim told me about her love of JANE EYRE. Shut up! Danielle loves JANE EYRE too. And…wait for it…Kim is OCD and ADD just like Danielle! We had to exchange email info.

            I wrote a book and I met my heroine. I am going to London for a month instead of beginning a new school year with a fresh batch of seniors in high school. I am sitting in my messy house writing instead of cleaning and thinking about all the weird coincidences and life changes that have happened to me in the last six months. Everything that was my life is changing. Even my locale for an extended bit. Fictional characters are presenting themselves to me as real live human beings.  It is all probably necessary and par for the course for a middle-aged American broad.