For those of you living outside of normal society where people watch the news and read the paper – or at least an online version of the newspaper – may be unaware that the Rapture has been predicted for Saturday, May 21 by Harold Egbert (!) Camping.  In conjunction with the Rapture, a zombie apocalypse has been predicted.  It’s all over

thinning the herd

 Twitter and the Internet.

The number one story at the Washington Post right now is an interview with one of my favorite bloggers, Thebloggess.com.  She has been forecasting the zombies for months now and people just haven’t been paying attention.

The zombie’s thing has so taken off that the website for the CDC (Center for Disease Control) even has a great tongue-in-cheek blog post with advice for creating a zombie preparedness kit.  They suggest, among other things, you have one gallon of water for each person per day.  They predict there will be refugee centers popping up fairly soon afterwards so you needn’t gather months worth of water. 

I mentioned the kits to Kelli and she pointed out that the refugee centers haven’t worked out all that well in Stephen King books.  There might be something to that – we should probably pay attention to Armageddon style books there may be more wisdom there than we initially thought.  I told Ava and Kelli to head to my mom-in-law’s house since she has three refrigerator/freezers plus a giant pantry full of food. 

An example of zombie friendly exercise

My Honey asked how to kill zombies.  I was like, “Duh, by chopping off their heads” but he was not convinced.  He thought it possible the body would still go even without a head. He has a good point since it’s all be speculation up to this point anyway since we haven’t had any zombies to experiment on.  He thinks we should try a couple of things out on Larry King, that way if it works on him we’ll have a decent idea of what will work on zombies.

I have been thinking about this all day and I’ve formulated a plan. 

* I’m actually looking forward to this Rapture thing.  There are going to be A LOT less annoying people around.  As a matter of fact, I’ve started pointing out people I hope the zombies take out right away.

*Consider that there will be hardly any lines at the movie theaters on Sunday when you want to go see the new Pirates of the Caribbean coming out this weekend. 

*I don’ t see any reason why I shouldn’t run right out and charge up our credit cards to the limit.  If I’m only going to enjoy these things for like two and a half more days then I really need to get on this.  In fact, I’m a little angry at myself for having waited this long.

*I’m going to be able to release a bunch of aggression taking out the zombies.  Thebloggess recommends a samurai sword as her weapon of choice as they don’t require ammunition.  I don’t have a sword in the house but My Honey tells me there are several sharp implements in the shed out back so I’m not too concerned about it. 

*Ava thinks we’re going on a diet tomorrow.  That woman is completely high if she thinks I’m going to do that before the apocolypse.  I’ll get plenty of exercise  come Sunday – I’m sure I’ll slim right down and gain fat-burning lean muscle with all that running and zombie exterminating.

* Best reason of all? Beyond a doubt it’s NO WORK ON MONDAY!

All I have to say, when it comes right down to it, besides a few minor inconveniences, I really only see an upside to this whole thing.

Embrace the Zombies!  Well maybe not embrace, but you get the idea.

I couldn’t decide how to start this post.  I wrote the first sentence five times and erased each one because I couldn’t decide how to launch into the topic.  I guess that’s the answer – just launch.

The Bandit wears me out.  His father and I can’t use being tired from work as an excuse to sit and relax or doze on the couch before dinner.  You must remain vigilant whenever our son is awake.

Tonight I was sitting on the couch before dinner watching Tampa Bay have their ass handed to them in Round Three of the Stanley Cup playoffs when I noticed the shadow of the refrigerator door open and close. There was no noise involved at all – just the moving shadow.  I jumped up and ran the opposite way to the kitchen in an attempt to catch him.  I knew it was The Bandit.  The entire escapade was done too quietly to have been anyone who wasn’t attempting to be sneaky. I rounded the doorway to the family room and saw him with a cupcake in each hand.  As soon as he saw me coming, he attempted to shove both of them in his mouth at once. He looked like a bad wedding photo of a groom gone insane.  There was frosting everywhere.

About an hour later I passed by the hall bathroom.  The door was ajar and I could see the light on.  I swung open the door to find the room empty, but clear evidence The Bandit had been there.  He had taken eight panty liners, peeled the back off each one, and stuck them across the toilet seat effectively taping the toilet closed.

Why? Why? I don’t have any idea.  I can’t imagine why we’d want the toilet taped shut. I just don’t know.

Yesterday was Sassy’s birthday.  She turned eight.  I can hardly believe it. Time really flies…..

At breakfast she began negotiating with me to reveal her birthday presents.  I don’t know where she gets this behavior (hahahahahaha snort).She doesn’t get to open them until this afternoon when we’re all home from work and school.  Anyway, her brother, The Bandit, said, “I’ll tell you what I didn’t buy you.”  And then he proceeded to tell her exactly what her father and I bought her.  I raced across the kitchen and clamped my hands over her ears but not before he said the most important word.

“Dude!” I said in exasperation.  “Why did you do that?”

“Well, I didn’t tell her what I bought her.” He was right of course.  He very clearly left out the information on his own present for her.

Sassy, God bless her, tried to convince me she hadn’t heard anything.  But she’s my kid and I’m never going to believe that.  Just by virtue of having my DNA, I’m certain at the very least she was able to read her brother’s lips even if she didn’t hear the actual words.

The part I can’t understand is, why he would tell her when his torture could be so much more effective if he wouldn’t tell her.

Today is The Quill Sisters’ birthday.  My Honey pointed out that it’s really the Sisters’ anniversary but traditionally you get cake on your birthday and if there’s one thing the Sisters’ love – it’s cake.

So Happy Birthday to The Quill Sisters!  We began this adventure two years ago today.

When we blow out the candles on our cake today, we’ll be wishing for publishing contracts and great reading for everyone!

Thank you, visitors.  We couldn’t do it without you.  Well we could, but it’s so much more fun with you along for the ride.

***Let it be noted the writers of this blog are three middle-aged, women of varying degrees of chubbiness and excellent imaginations.  If anything actually occurs that even vaguely resembles these events, let it be understood there is NO WAY we were capable of carrying it out.  Seriously.  Inconceivable.

It is no secret that the Sisters hate our day jobs – although Kelli has tumbled into a new one I think might stick.  It also should be said that bored Quill Sisters are never any good for anyone. 

Ava and I have been in training for our new repurposed careers.  The training is agony.  Agony I tell you.  We’ve been instant messaging each other and, since my transcriptions of our text conversations have been such a hit, I thought I’d share an IM conversation as well.

A little back ground: You know I love hockey. Also, Ava is game for anything so long as it keeps us from being bored and if Kelli’s not the instigator, she’s certainly along for the ride. She often proves quite useful. Enough said.

Amy [4:56 PM]:

Phoenix is keeping the Coyotes for at least the 2011-2012 season.  My plans to kidnap Shane Doan are still in the early planning stages but now I’ll have time to fine tune them.

Ava [4:56 PM]: Let me know if I can help.

Amy [4:57 PM]:

I’ve already inked you in for several vital parts

Shane Doan - doesn't he look nice here?

I’m going to make Kelli help too.  I’ll make her learn to like hockey players. 

Ava [4:57 PM]:

I’m certain I can perform to your kidnapping standards.

Amy [4:58 PM]:

We’re going to need to steal a car

Ava [4:58 PM]:

Not a problem.

Amy [4:58 PM]:

You still have your jimmy from the old Jersey days?

Can you borrower Ed’s?

Ava [4:58 PM]:

One of my neighbors leaves his keys in his rv.

Amy [4:58 PM]:

That will work for several parts of the kidnapping plan.

Shane is a really big guy – we may have to start going to the gym.

His gym.  Not ours.  We’re not working out ahead of time

Ava [5:00 PM]:

I don’t think we should workout. That will be part of our alibi. “Officer, we couldn’t have kidnapped him. Look at us!”

Amy [5:01 PM]:

Oooh.  I may put you in charge of the defense plan.

Ava [5:02 PM]:

That’s for the best. After a very short amount of time, most law enforcement folks never want to see me again.

Amy [5:02 PM]:

This is totally going to work out for us.

Ava [5:03 PM]:

Yup.  It always has.

Amy [5:03 PM]:

Where shall we take him when we get him?  I’m thinking Vegas.  What happens in Vegas….

Ava [5:04 PM]:

Or out to a prepared cabin in the desert so he can’t get away.

Amy [5:05 PM]:

OK.  We’ll put Kelli in charge of the “pad”.  I’ll be in charge of getting into the locker room.  If anyone gets in our way, we’ll take them too.

It would be too bad if these two got in the way

From here the conversation really goes kind of crazy.  I know “crazy” is

Oh dear, now the RV is getting quite full

 a relative term, especially when referring to one of the Sisters’ conversations, but trust me on this one.  The rest of this conversation could only get us in trouble.

Oh my goodness! One of my oldest friends emailed me this weekend with this flyer.  I’m so proud of her, I can’t even say. Of course, I can say.  I’m a writer.  That’s my job.  I can’t stop grinning for her.  I know what she’s feeling – the giddiness and elation and I wish her so many more of this exact sensation.

Who’d have ever thought, way back in high school when we were so goofy, that we’d both really end up writers. How outstandingly fabulous.

See her right there on May 22nd – The Secret by Kristy Westphal.

The 5th Annual Pandora Festival

Staged readings of selected new plays for women playwrights

Friday, May 20, 2011 7:30

• The Fire in Minerva, by Larissa Brewington (Arizona)

Saturday, May 21, 2011 7:30

• Remnants of a Dream, by Ruth Cantrell (New Mexico)

Saturday, May 21, 2 pm – Selection of 1 act plays

• After Life at the Cinema by Hannah Lillith Assadi (Arizona)
• Me by Maia Akiva (California)
• Out of Focus by Carol K. Mack (Connecticut) 

Sunday, May 22, 2 pm – Selection of 10 minute plays

• Firewall by Rita Kniess Barkey (Montana)
• Despair of a Cheerleader by Shayanna Jacobs (Arizona)
• A Shared View by Mary Caroline Rogers (Arizona)
• Close Enough  by Kellie Powell (New York)
• Jesse Rode A Bicycle Today by Sara Israel (California)
• Jinxed by K. AlexisMavromatis(Rhode Island)
• The Secret  by Kristy Westphal(Arizona)
• The Procedure by Diane Grant (California)
• Nephrology by Sara Ilyse Jacobsen (Maryland)

Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts, Stage 2

TICKETS $16.50

The Arizona Women’s Theatre Company (AZWTC) produces contemporary plays by women playwrights. The company is entering its 7th season and is committed to producing work that reveals women’s lives and documents women’s experiences. As a non-profit, 501(c)(3) corporation, AZWTC relies totally on volunteers and donations. The Pandora Festival is funded in part by the Scottsdale Cultural Council and Arizona Commission on the Arts.

I learned something today about Lady Gaga which I think changes my opinion of her.  Honestly, I don’t have a bad opinion of her; really it’s more of a “whatever” opinion.  I see her as the Madonna/Cindy Lauper/Alice Cooper of this generation.  She’s performance art – if you consider her art.  That’s not the point of this post.
 
I heard today that Ms. Gaga requires all her staff, her minions if you will, speak with an English accent.
 
I’m totally doing that.  Ava and I decided the minions won’t necessarily need to have an English accent – just a foreign one.  I’m totally fine with Israeli, Canadian, Indian, Spanish, Irish – hell, I don’t know what an Icelandic accent sounds like, but I’m willing to listen to it.  If absolutely necessary I might be willing to allow an American Southern accent as long as it sounds very authentic. 

I know I’ve mentioned before how sarcastic my family is.  I’m talking about the family I grew up with, although the Brights speak Sarcasm, they’re not quite as fluent.  When you’re at a Bright Family gathering there aren’t quite as many ironic eyebrows and dry retorts as there are when surrounded by my mother’s family.  We’re lethal.  Let’s say Dorothy Parker, if you’re not familiar you should be, would make an excellent honorary member and she would have fit right in.

Because I refuse to talk down to my children, I still use my multiple syllabic vocabulary and I don’t usually temper my sarcasam.  Hey, I figure they’re going to need to be able to conversewith my family and besides, I think it’s good for them to know a second language. I believe in total immersion when it comes to learning another language. 

Sassy speaks sarcasm but she often slips into the easy trap of bitchy and everyone knows that’s the lesser of the two dialects.

The Bandit is just beginning to get the hang of it and try it out for himself.  The only problem is he hasn’t gotten down the inflection required to effectively communicate the irony. He says the right words just in the wrong tone and with weirdly sweet facial expressions.

For example, we were in the car on the way to school yesterday.  He was in the third row seat way in the back holding his plate of toasted and quartered Pop Tart because he’d spent the entire morning screwing around instead of getting ready for school.  I hit a bump in the road and apparently his plate went flying.

“Thanks, Mom, I dropped my breakfast.” Now you can read his comment and know, especially based on the topic of this post, that he said it with irony.  But imagine him saying it with a smile on his face and a cheerful tone of voice from way in the back of the car. It was very confusing. 

I spend a great deal of time staring at him with a perplexed expression and saying, “I’m not following you, little man.”

The following is another of the reprinted news stories from one hundred years ago as reprinted by the local newspaper, The Arizona Daily Star as part of the centennial celebration.

I find this one particularly charming because there is a nice little romance involved. 

May 9, 1912,

Uncle Sam’s mail brought Mrs. Lorene Wagner of Cleveland, Ohio, and “Billy” Wilson, deputy sheriff of Maricopa county, Arizona, together.

They were married at 6 o’clock Monday evening inthe superior court room at Phoenix by judge J.C. Phillips.

Accompanied by her 6-year-old daughter, Mrs. Wagner arrived in Phoenix Saturday evening.  She came in response to a letter from Billy, asking her to come, look him over, and make him her husband, if he suited.

Some weeks ago sheriff Jeff Adams received a letter from Mrs. Wagner, who requested his help in finding her a husband.  She knew all kinds of eastern men, she said, but she wanted a breezy westerner, one who has the “heritage of the desert.”  That is she didn’t express it in that language, but she made it plain that she wanted a western husband, Arizonian preferred.

The letter was handed to Wilson, with a suggestion that he answer it.  Billy read that letter over a hundred times, and finally decided that he would reply to it.  It wasn’t days before he got another letter directly from Mrs. Wagner.  Many other letters traveled back and forth and finally they decided that Mrs. Wagner should come to Arizona.

On Sunday, Billy, Mrs. Wagner and her little girl drove over the valley, getting acquainted and talking over the future.  Mrs. Wagner liked the bluff, hearty deputy sheriff, and last night they agreed that they would make the mistake of their lives if they failed to become man and wife.

The next day Billy was busy making the preliminary arrangements and personally inviting all the friends he could find to be at the superior court.  He is just as proud as he can be, and it might be stated that since Mrs. Wagner was introduced at the courthouse, there are several young bachelors around there who are sorry they didn’t answer the letter instead of leaving it to Billy.

She is a rarely beautiful widow, still on the sunshiny side of 30.

As Mr. Wilson is one of the officials of the superior court, now in session, he and his bride will not take a wedding trip till later in the summer.

This story opens up all kinds of questions for me.  Did Mrs. Wagner and Billy kiss at some point during their “get acquainted” drive?  I’m guessing if the little girl was along, there wasn’t anything especially passionate about the kiss, if  indeed there was one, and certainly nothing any more provocative than a kiss occurred.

Did Mrs. Wagner decide Billy was acceptable simply because the idea of climbing back on the train and going all the way back to Ohio with a kid in tow was too excruciating to contemplate?

I feel like this story needed a follow up.  Did they live happily ever after?  What was her first name?  What became of the little girl? I wonder what the age difference was between Mrs. Wagner and Billy since she was on the “sunshiny side of 30.”

Someone who is not me should write this story and fill in the blanks.

“The story of a mother’s life: trapped between a scream and a hug”

-Cathy Guisewite, funny page phenomenon – the author of Cathy.

In my experience, I think she’s nailed it.