Her throat swelled up to the size of a softball last night, just sort of out of nowhere. Weird thing? She didn't act like it bothered her at all, except for the occasional cough. Strangeness.
So we run her in this morning. I got female vet doctor number 2 since it was apparently her day. FVDN1 is a little better, but FVDN2 isn't horrible. She's just a little too...what's the word? She tries to soften everything a little too much, tries so hard to be careful when describing things to you.
I think she was trying to say my dog may have throat cancer, but she couldn't just spit it out.
Got some samples sent off to the lab and we'll know by tomorrow. Joy.
Poor Pup1. She's always had the strangest damn things happen to her medically. Happiest damn dog in history, but screwed from day one with weird medical problems.
Baby Jesus cries
BB drops one of his kids to daycare most days. Some four year old at the place sees his Patriots hat and says, every day, "Patriots suck!" Well, this has become a chant. Twelve four year olds screaming over and over, "Patriots suck!"
Today he snapped. He replied calmly, "you know guys, everytime you say that baby Jesus cries."
He said it got really quiet, and the daycare people on duty looked at him like he'd just touched someone inappropriately. But, he got what he wanted, the kids stopped chanting at him.
I have a feeling this won't turn out well for anyone.
Rewrite in earnest
The actual note organization began last night on what I hope is my final attempt to write this story. Not that there won't be editing after this one, but damn.
Part of my problem is trying to fit twenty-plus years of history between these two into a relatively small story. Not easy to do. Crazy difficult since they seem to fill my head with details of moment after moment between them. Everything from that first cuddle as babies to the moment they finally break down and tell each other they're sick of pretending they're just friends. So fucking many moments. And while I've distilled and culled out the repetitious ones, nights spent cuddling on a couch as teenagers watching TV, repeated talks with friends in school about why they claim they aren't together while never 'dating' anyone else, night after night after 'the move' spent together, talking while avoiding saying anything, there's still a history there that doesn't want to be told in short order.
And so I try to find the essence.
- Childhood memories told through flashbacks either together, or describing to others.
- Her sweet sixteen date, the night that sets the tone for a good many years between them.
- His seventeenth, where their friendship seems to become something more, though confused.
- The business opportunity she won't let him turn down that takes him halfway across the country from her.
- His trip back for her birthday.
- Her breakdown as the months stretch without him.
- Her running to him on the night he needs her most.
- The setup of their lives in this new place, separate, but close, trying to find what they'd lost, not ready to let it be more.
- Taking care of each other in ways that make their news friends wonder why they insist they're "just friends."
- Her first birthday back with him, an amazing night together, and the dawning realization that maybe their fantasies aren't just fantasies.
That's as far as I can break it down, distilling the best of the previous two rewrites, bringing scenes together, tossing out the crap. And still there's countless little scenes of times together when they were younger to fit in.
All that in less than three hundred pages? Maybe. If I really, REALLY work at it.
Bringing da metalz
So, any goobers in the Minnesota/Dakota area that want to hit Music as a Weapon 4 in the cities? Hit me. Free ticket to those who ask because everybody I know in the real world either sucks, or REALLY SUCKS.
OK, so Mrs. NFB would go, but I figure she can sleep at home and I won't have to worry about some fucktard groping her bewbies while I'm trying to RTFO. As previously mentioned, Mrs. NFB is so metalz she falls asleep at the big metalz showz. While standing up. That's right fuckers, my wife is more metalz than yours.
So, come get it. First come, first serve. I reserve the right to bitch-slap any ugly mug what asks. Though I'd probably still give ya the ticket because, why not?
|< Yes. I am a cop. | Maybe I'm Batman. >|