January 06, 2003

Aph vs. Rogue Jellybean

I'm so damn

I love gourmet jellybeans. My favorites are blueberry and buttered popcorn. I can't recall the last time I had some of my favorite jellybeans. It was probably six months or so ago. I don't believe that jellybeans have a shelf life. Do they get stale? The world may never know. But there is someone who does know. Aphrodite.

Early this morning, I'd gotten up and was staggering around trying to coax myself into a state of awareness, or an unreasonable facsilime, so I could go to a second interview at one of the many places I've applied to work. I was just gathering my shower stuff when Aph came wiggling out from under my bed. She was happily rolling something around in her mouth and when she realized I was still in the room. She reversed directions and tried to get back under there. I pulling her back out and scooped her up. Aph will eat anything, and when she doesn't want me to see what she's got, it usually means she's found some decades old chewy or a particularly scrumptious dust ball.)

I opened her mouth and saw a tiny, gourmet jellybean. They're not much bigger than a pea. So I said "Okay. Go ahead, you're getting your Insulin in a few minutes anyhow." and put her down. She wagged her tail and went to work chewing away. Then - suddenly - She started making snorfly sounds of panic. At first I was afraid she was choking, but I figured it out: The jellybean was sticky enough that it had temporarily "glued" her mouth shut. Poor Aph. I pried her little jaws apart and she spat out the remains of the offending bean. She then proceeded to look at me as if it were my fault and stalked off to her water dish.

Now, Aph's very sensitive. She's never gotten angry at me, but she once refused to listen to, play with, or let my mom touch her for two days after my poor mom inadvertantly poked her in the throat. In fact, hours after the unfortunate incident, she'd glare at my mom and make choking sounds! No lie. After she got over it, she obviously felt bad about having held a grudge and spent the next two days snuggling up to my mom and giving her plenty of doggy kisses. But I digress.

Aph must've felt kind of bad about blaming me for the rogue jellybean, so she waited for me outside the bathroom door and gave me tail wags and barks of joy. (She rarely barks.) Once I was dressed, she hopped up on my lap and snuggled until I had to leave. When I got back home, she was waiting with more cuddles and dog kisses. She certainly wears her heart on her fuzzy little sleeve. Don't tell her I said so, but seeing her snorting and dancing around in a panic with a jellybean between her teeth was a little funny.

You guys! Holy crap. I'm still good friends with one of my old college professors. I took a writing course with him, and we used to get together for hot cocoa and such after class. (No, no romance. He was happily married.)

Anyway, a few months ago he shared a really personal story he'd written with me. So, I decided to let him read a few chapters of one of my stories, a scifi tale from the series I write just for myself. He sent me back the best compliment I've ever been given by an English professor. He said I'm sitting on a goldmine by keeping them to myself, and called me a modern-day Tolkien. My feet haven't touched the ground since. We're friends, but I know he wouldn't blow smoke up my ass. He wouldn't tell me my writing was that good if he didn't think it was true.

I don't plan to submit those stories to be published. They're too close to my heart for that. Writing is my passion, my true vocation. And to have someone get lost in my worlds, to love my characters the way I do... to me, that's real success, money be damned. Ahhh, cloud nine is darn comfortable.

Have a wonderful day and thanks for reading.

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