Tag: Wonder Killer
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Hey, Pamie: “How do you know what you want to write about?”
Happy New Year, everybody. I’m guessing you were feeling really proud of yourself yesterday because you didn’t break your resolution to be more productive/write every day/outline that screenplay/etc. And now here it is, Jan Two and you’re already trolling blogs for inspiration. I get it. I do it, too. I am taking a break from…
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E/R Wonder Killers, Look!
I remember so much of this. And yet, did not remember the Martha Quinn.
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Acts of Incompetent Genius
I had this sudden idea the other night while I was eating a steak dinner and watching some Frontline special about technology (settle down, boys, this girl’s taken) that it’d be an interesting, potentially time-saving experiment to see if I could keep myself from Wonder Killing for an entire week. For me, that means not…
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Taken.
About sixteen seconds after you finish your first derby practice you start to think about your derby name. It becomes pretty much an obsession. Every name you hear gets twisted into a violent and/or sexy pun. It might seem silly, but it becomes an all-consuming task, because you are essentially naming your alter ego. Your…
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you be the judge.
Dinner is cooking, my Moxi tells me it’s overheating, and Time Warner Cable tells me I’m experiencing a hold time of upwards of thirty minutes, but please be assured it’ll be handled as quickly as possible. This means you now get to ponder the question that bothered me during the two plus hours I was…
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you know you’re right.
I have a long history with being right. When I was a kid, I was right all the time. Knew the answers, knew why I knew the answers, knew what the next questions would be. Moving all the time meant I was always being given another series of placement tests, and I knew what those…
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maintenance
Yesterday I made a list of people I needed to call to schedule appointments. At the top of the list: allergist. Mom called yesterday morning and said, “Have you seen the wheat doctor yet? I really want you to be able to eat bread again.” I think the next time I come to town, she’d…
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because i feel stuff.
To put it mildly, I’ve been dealing with an overabundance of feelings. Apparently this is all very healthy and normal, and I’m handling it with the closest I can come to grace. “Grace,” for me, is crying until snot falls, flailing around my bed like an angry pre-teen, whining to any friend who will listen…
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viewer mail shuts me up.
[readermail] Dear Pamie, But what about “condos“? thanks, Felisa [/readermail] Oh. Yeah. And just like that I thought about “Nachos.” Hmm.
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wonder killer moment #496.
[scripty] stee’s mom [laying down scrabble tiles] Doesn’t it look like “radios” should have an “e” before the “s”? stee Yeah, I guess so. stee’s mom I wonder if it should. pamie [who isn’t playing the game, but is nearby, reading a book] No, because there’s a vowel before the “o.” stee’s mom Excuse me?…