N is for...

National Health Care Decision Day

Yep, it's today.  How's that for A to Z timing?  Click here and go get your Advance Directive.  If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you definitely need to click on that link.

Okay, now that I've reported the official business of the day, I'd like to talk about something that has been consuming my thoughts since last Monday.  And that is Nicotine.  Yes, it starts with an N.  How convenient! Well, kiddos, the death writer used to love her some cigarettes.  I was a two pack a day smoker for many, many years.  I did not love how they tasted, but I loved that I could take a break from life to step outside and smoke.  About three years ago, I gave them up and  became equally addicted to Nicotine Lozenges.

You're not supposed to use nicotine lozenges for three years, but according to a lot of message boards here on the internet, many people do. So, I've been going through nicotine withdrawal which is horrible.  I am supposed to be preparing my manuscript for editing and I can't even think.  Nor can I really blog.  

So, that leads me to the point of this post.  Go get your advance directive and don't ever start smoking.  It's a BITCH to quit.  And last, but certainly not least, I am bowing out of the A to Z.  I wish all of you the best of luck.  

K is for...



This is one of my favorite films from the past few years.  Yep, it's got death in it.  But it also has life.  I love the kid who wants to be a superhero.  Nicolas Cage is totally weird and wonderful, but the film really belongs to Chloe Grace Moretz.  She is this totally bad-ass twelve-year-old with a potty mouth and the skills of a ninja.  I've gotten into some heated arguments with people over this performance.  Some people are totally shocked by what she says and does and I'm like, "Hey, it's just a movie and it's about freakin' time that a young woman got to kick some ass." 

I found it refreshing.

Did you see it?  If not, what movie is your guilty pleasure?

I is for...

Illness

On Sunday, my husband poisoned me.  He didn't mean to do it, but he did it just the same.  We were making bacon, eggs and potatoes for breakfast when we realized we didn't have an onion.  So, Erik says, "I think there's one in the garden," and out he went to forage through the dirt.  He came back in with what looked like an overgrown green onion.  He diced the bulb, threw it in with the potatoes and that was that. I'm new to this gardening thing, so it felt kind of neat to procure a needed food item in the backyard instead of having to hop in the car and drive a mile to the nearest Kroeger.

But, and I'm sad to say there is a but, about ten minutes after consuming our tasty breakfast, Erik looks at me with a worried expression and says, "I don't feel so good."  I'll spare you the details and just say his body rejected the perfectly crisp bacon and everything else he'd eaten that morning. Right after he exited the bathroom, it was my turn.  

I was convinced we had a stomach bug, since one is going around, but after the initial "incident," we were fine.  No fever, no aches or pains, no more technicolor heaving.  Plus, our kids weren't sick and neither of them at the potatoes and we did.

The night before last, I awoke to the sound of my daughter throwing up.  She walked in my room to announce this fact. I think I said, "I'm sorry.  Put a trashcan by your bed."  I feel like a horrible parent.  I made it up to her yesterday with the whole, wet wash cloth, cracker and chicken broth routine.  So, now I'm not so sure if it was the onion, if indeed it really was an onion or just something masquerading as one. 

I feel queasy today.  It could be I'm sick.  Or it could be I'm jonesing for nicotine.  Or it could be that panic is setting in.  I have eleven days to finish.  

But, I wrote something and that's a start.