I told you so.

Well.  For the 124 of you who stopped by yesterday (or the 2 of you who just hit the site 62 times each), I have to say I told you so.

S l o w i n g  D o w n.  See?  I wish I could say I am not writing because I’ve started a new quilt, or won the Pulitzer – I did finish the second season of 24 this week, which, when you think about it, really does take a bit of time (almost 24 hours to be precise).  But I didn’t start writing the great American novel, or even start reading one, for that matter  while I was not blogging.

I did, however, have a great idea for one based on my previous post.  So, if I were to have been working on so ambitious a project, here is how my new novel would have started:

“Blaming your mother is so cliché.  I do, however, think that history can overcome the misconception that mother blaming is common myth.  My life, simply put, is all my mother’s fault.  When most other mothers were thinking “Cheerleading” or “Ballet”, “Gymnastics” or maybe even “Softball”, my mother, in a fit of lazy brilliance signed me up for boys baseball.  I loved it, of course, at the time.  I was an eight year old girl, it was to be expected that I would be pleased to spend my afternoons in the park, warm in the sunshine, learning skills that would carry me through my life.  Hand eye coordination, teamwork, how to accept coaching and criticism without retaliating against channeled bossiness.  At eight, I was unaware of the risks.  I was not looking for the defining moment that would change who I was to become.  That white flash of baseball, hard ball, that screamed “Out of the way, girl, destiny is coming!”  For me, you see, the damned baseball of destiny took my front tooth.”

From there, you see it is all downhill.  Imagine being the 3rd grader without a front tooth?  Boys don’t want to take girls to the prom if they don’t have teeth, and I would bet cheerleading and ballet won’t even let you sign up without a full set.  Your destiny would be formed, future career paths predetermined. You would never smile, so people would assume you were surly. The plot hole, of course, I KNOW, is modern dentistry, but maybe it is in an alternate world where there is no dentistry.  Yea, well, if I had actually been working on that instead of overeating late at night, watching the entire season of a 5 year old television drama, maybe I would have solved the plot hole.

Since I am spending my weekend on a romantic retreat with my husband, watching the World Poker Tour – LIVE! from the Bellagio, getting massages, and drinking champagne all day, maybe I can get going on the rest of the story.  I will let you know how it turns out.

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4 Responses to I told you so.

  1. jennie says:

    You’re going to the Bellagio for the weekend? I’m super jealous. But I can’t believe they let someone without all their teeth into the Bellagio.

  2. Kathy says:

    this made me flash back to being 5 or so, racing on my tricycle with a neighbor boy when I hit something – my 4 front teeth broke as I hit the handle bars with my face. In those days they didn’t fix or do anything with baby teeth. I remember starting school with this hideous set of teeth and not liking it at all.

  3. Mostly Jenine says:

    Perfect! You can be my “no tooth kid” muse. 🙂

  4. yo says:

    Boy, you had me worried for a minute, mimi. I scanned your I told you so, and thought I really did have crs. Boys baseball? lazy brilliance?Phew! Glad it was fiction.

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