Don’t cry over spilled beer
Last night, C. and I were curling up in bed to watch The Transporter and have some snacks. Before dinner. We’re a backwards people. Anyway, as a dutiful wife, I never serve my husband an unopened beer, so I handed him a cold one with the cap popped off. At the moment his hand touched the bottle, there was some miscommunication between us, perhaps owing to the bag of tortilla chips I was holding with my teeth as I tried to say, “That one’s yours,” and we both let go of the bottle at the same time. It fell, perhaps owing to the pull of gravity, onto the bed and rapidly began to empty. C. snatched it up, but no sooner had he lifted it upright than it began to foam over. We mopped up the mess with paper towels as best we could, pushed back the quilt, and perhaps owing to our insistent laziness, continued with our movie-watching and snacking on the soggy bed. Just one of those things.
I saw the film version of House of Sand and Fog. Don’t bother. No surprise there. What does surprise me, however, is that it was nominated for three Oscars, and was either nominated for or won a slew of other awards. There’s just no telling sometimes.
Lastly, my research for publications where my writing would be a good fit has led me to some great finds. A couple of my current favorites are Knee-Jerk Magazine and Artifice Magazine. Artifice is new; their first issue comes out in about a month. But I already love them because of the hilarious and incredibly inventive wishlist they’ve come up with. My homework assignment is to write something from the wishlist. Check em out.