S#18: Hot stuff
Wearing sexy clothes is hazardous stuff. Steff Metal technically advised readers to wear a suspender belt with stockings, but:
1. Ew
2. Ow
I therefore chose instead to wear sexy boots to work. These sexy boots (bought for me by a sexy bridesmaid when I was engaged):
The cat comes separately.
I wore the boots on Monday and Tuesday, as I went a-tutoring. Certain problems became apparent rather quickly. Those things are seriously heavy. They’re also seriously tall, sending me towering above the six-foot range. Being hot has never been my speciality.
Since I’m also eating almost no chocolate (huge shock to the system, and always makes me lightheaded), my walking was never going to be graceful. I cunningly managed to almost fall over several times, and I had enormous difficulty getting in and out of the car (you try strapping a five-inch block to your feet and see how it works). It was perfectly clear that if I continued driving in these shoes I’d have a horrible crash and die.
And thus my experiment with being a hot young thing has passed into history.
Fatalities: 0
Play along at home: Wear something you probably shouldn’t. Feel free NOT to share it in the comments this time.
In other news, I’ve decided (literally last night) to register for a young adult and children’s lit festival THIS SATURDAY. I’m more than slightly scared, since my primary purpose is to schmooze with industry professionals (and learn from their seminars, of course). Like all writing festivals, it’s like a giant, expensive job interview with scores of mentally unstable applicants charging headfirst into a genteel brawl.
I’ll blog about it on Sunday!
In other other news, here’s some of the meals I’ve been eating (note the vegies) – a lunch and a dinner:
Tomorrow: 3-ingredient dessert of doooooom!
Ten grams
I’m letting myself have ten grams of chocolate today. Exciting stuff. (Nope, that wasn’t sarcasm.)
This morning I weighed 78.9, which is at least within range of where I should have started this weight-loss session from. Now there’s two and a half kilos left to reach my current goal of 76.5 by the new end date of 21 July (three weeks away).
But neither of those things are actually the topic of today’s blog.
Yesterday I heard about the NSW Writers’ Centre holding a conference about young adult and children’s fiction – this Saturday. In Sydney.
The thing is, there are representatives from two big Australian YA publishers there, and it may be worth my while being in the same room (sad but true). So I’ll get up three hours early, drive to Sydney, attend sessions, hope like crazy my submission/s are selected by the interactive panels at the end – and then I’ll drive home. And I’ll talk to people (ugh!) in between.
Scary stuff.
There are three ways this can go:
1. I get really tired. Nothing happens, except possibly some education.
2. I make a shiny new contact/s to send books to.
3. I annoy important people, and my slushpile submissions are listed for indiscriminate burning in publisher offices across Australia.
I’ll let you know. m
#158: Cheesy Scenes
And. . . action!
For today’s awesomeness I used tasty cheese, fetta, and cream cheese (bought another delicious block yesterday).
This first scene is, OBVIOUSLY, the opening drama of the recent “Sherlock Holmes” adventure. My own small tribute to a great work.
As you can CLEARLY see, there’s a drugged young lass writhing picturesquely on the table, and Sherlock Holmes (clearly Sherlock, since he has a hat. And eyes) is rushing in to save the day. Hurrah!
After assembling the following dramatic climax to the epic Lord of the Rings trilogy (because nothing says, “Arg! Gollem just bit off my finger!” like cheese), I called CJ into the room. The look on his face was priceless. He sat down beside me and simply stared for some time.
There’s a traditional fantasy blessing and/or curse that says, “May you live in interesting times.” Thanks to marrying me, CJ is guaranteed to fulfil that saying. What a lucky guy.
Moving on.
Despite his intelligence, CJ somehow mistook the ring of power (which is CLEARLY shown in the extended features to be variable in size) to be some kind of shield. As if the seething pool of cheese lava didn’t give it away! See it bubble and spark!
Critical viewers may note that Frodo and Sherlock have some features in common. But the truly observant will notice that Frodo has the characteristic curly hair of his race – and, most importantly, he is MUCH shorter. So there.
The rest of my immediate family joined in, in their own way. Here my infamously grumpy cat (the one you DON’T put in a fishtank if you want to live) contributed the FLAMING EYE OF SAURON. Terrifying, I know.
And. . . scene.
Play along at home: Think of the best movie you’ve seen lately. Wouldn’t it be better in cheese?
#94: Eat novelty food
Don’t you just love an unnecessarily complex meal? I know I do. Last Friday I discovered individually stone-grilled steak at the Weston Club in Canberra (for $10 at lunch time Thursday or Friday). You get your choice of sauce (I voted mushroom), plus vegetables or salad, plus your preferred form of potato (chips, mash or roasted). This is how it looked when it first arrived:
This was brilliant stuff (unless you like your steak rare, in which case you are far too classy to be here). I spent the whole meal cutting off bits of steak, searing the sides on the stone, dunking them in mashed potato, dunking them again in the mushroom sauce, and eating. *sigh*
It was exquisite.
Play along at home: Find a club or restaurant that does similarly unnecessary stuff to food, eg. a Teppinyaki restaurant. It’s playing with your food for grown ups!
Attentive viewers would have noticed that I accidentally posted one of July’s library pics yesterday. I hope you enjoyed it. Believe me, there’s a LOT more coming – every single July day will feature either a library or a cthulu (naturally the cthulu photos will be photoshopped ever so slightly). I’m pretty sure you get smart and richer (and possibly more tentacley) just looking at them. I know I have.
Coming soon: Sexy (don’t worry, it’s child-safe – and horrifying mental picture-safe too)
Recreate movie scenes using cheese (thanks to Ben for THAT suggestion)
Three-ingredient Thursday: Dessert (one I prepped before starting my four weeks of healthy eating)
Sort wedding photos
And a surprise or two.
S#90: Love Letter
I’ve written letters. I’ve written love letters. But I’ve never written a love letter in chalk on the side of my house – until today.
This was Secret # 3, for those attempting to keep count.
A few days ago, I bought chalk.
Today, CJ went out during the day. This was one of the rare occasions he’d arrive home before dark. I had to take my chance.
After procrastinating for many hours, I finally bit the bullet – I had to do SOMETHING awesome today, after all – and went outside. Specifically, I went outside clutching a heat pack with one hand, and scrawling a message of love with the other. I’d hesitated for several reasons:
#1. Love is icky. Everyone knows that.
#2. I’m a writer, and meant to be original. And there’s something about love that makes it the world’s greatest cliché (in every possible sense of “great”).
#3. It’s cold outside.
#4. If there’s anything the internet has taught us, it’s DON’T EVER say what you really feel.
#5. We have just one appropriate wall – the car-port wall. It is ever so close to the neighbours, who spend a lot of time in their front yard. There was a strong chance they’d see my epistle before CJ did.
I dragged up my courage, put it where my dignity used to be, and went to work. Sure enough, it was at precisely that point our neighbours decided to deal with their bins. We literally opened our doors at the same time (our side door faces their front door). Fabulous. Their bins, incidentally, are located less than three metres from the wall of love – easily within reading range. So I jammed my beanie a little tighter on my head, clutched my heat pack a little closer, and wrote the first true words that came into my head.
I was so embarrassed afterwards that I could barely meet CJ’s eye. He was so pleased he’s been hugging me at a 350% increase all day. (Worth it!)
Oh, and CJ – you’re now officially allowed to read Steff’s list at http://steffmetal.com/101-ways-to-cheer-yourself-up/
Play along at home: If you love someone, let them know – in chalk. It can’t possibly be as embarrassing as my experience was, so man up.
Incidentally, has anyone been making comments that aren’t getting through? My spam filter reports that it has fielded more spam than it’s actually run past me. If it’s you that’s been vanishing off the edge of the map, please let me know by emailing fellissimo[at]hotmail[dot]com.
Food
I wrote at https://twittertales.wordpress.com/2010/06/23/new-years-resolution-in-another-month/ about my plan to eat for maximum digestive health for four weeks, as naturally and gently as I could (today is day 5). Since I’ve been reading about pregnant-lady foods, I know herbs can be pretty intense. So I’m not taking any, except actually in food (so it’s LIKE a detox program, but without stripping my stomach of nutrients or causing me to fall down). I confess I am taking folate, and vitamin C (to try to absorb iron, which appears to be working better than iron tablets). But mostly, I’m just eating good food.
It’s a shock to the system.
I’ve had a theory for a while that I eat so much chocolate that it’s become a vital part of my digestive system. I haven’t had any chocolate since last Monday – no caffeine at all, actually – so I have the usual headache (fading now, as usual after a few days).
I just finished a plate of celery, red capsicum and hommus for morning tea (instead of, say, a family size pack of maltesers), so it’s natural that my body is a bit freaked out. I think the internal cogs creak and clash for a week or two (based on “the all-bran challenge” ads) before they remember how the system is actually meant to work. So I feel sick after eating almost every meal. But I do have moments of glowing virtue every so often, so that bodes well for the future. I think the easiest thing to do, which also has the greatest physiological response, is to drink a glass of water before breakfast (especially if it’s warm, with a squeeze of lemon). Sometimes drinking that water makes me feel as if someone’s just kicked me in the stomach, which I believe is because my gut needs something to get it working, and is shocked when that something isn’t chocolate. I assume that once the digestive system is actually working, the pain will stop. It’s actually really cool that ordinary food is having such a big effect, because it shows how easy it is to seriously improve my health (after the initial fortnight, anyway).
I’m still really bloated, which I figure is also a “What?!? You’re feeding me REAL FOOD? Arg!” from my belly. I’ll let you know how things change over the next three weeks!
S#83: Community Classes
The stars aligned for this one.
I have several friends who are serious about their historical dancing (AND their historical costume) and in fact I first met CJ at a ball (which had a theme of “pirates” – the photo of me on the right was taken that very night*). Swimming is one of my main modes of exercise, but it’s far less appealing in Winter, so I came up with the idea of joining proper dancing classes during Winter. And Steff Metal’s list of awesomeness gave me the push I needed to actually do it.
So CJ and I rocked up today for the first of four lessons with John Garden, who is mad as a spoon. (That’s him with the possessed eyes and the vest.)
He possesses a flourishing beard and a brood of young dancers (at least one of whom hasn’t hit puberty yet, but is a perfectly courtly partner). His wife attends all the classes, and makes her own period clothing. The classes always have live music, including John’s hurdy gurdy at every possible moment. The dance company is called “Earthly Delights”.
Only dance masters could imagine so many different ways to walk, hop, step and jump. My mind was spinning within minutes (ah, edumacation). Soon the rest of me was spinning too, as we made hay and minuets and a whole lot of other things I can’t pronounce.
I mentioned John is mad. “As a spoon” was the phrase, I believe.
People grow beards for different reasons. Some simply don’t care for human contact. Some couldn’t be bothered shaving. Others are so utterly wrapped up in their life that the beards just. . . happen. John is one of those. He’s constantly saying things like, “Oh, this dance is based on the first play performed in Australia – by convicts, you know – although of course we don’t know for certain that this exact dance was performed in the play. It was a musical, though, so it’s possible. A funny play, satirising the military. But of course! Are you a lady this time Eddie?”
The phrase “Are you a lady?” comes up rather a lot in his line of work. Not quite as often as “Where were we? Did I say left or right?” and so on. And throwaway lines like, “I was reading a manuscript from 1755 just this morning and IT said that. . .” or, “Something terribly funny happened in 1705. It was in all the papers. . .”
Last but not least, he’s the master of the double entendre. Except he doesn’t appear to notice. At all. Not a quirk of the eyebrow, not a knowing glance, not a cautiously modulated voice. I counted four wonderful lines today. One of them caused another young gentleman to double over in hysterical giggles, at which point John paused, blinked and said, “Oh yes. Very well.”
Community classes: beards, frocks, and misplaced innocence. That, and peculiar new skill sets. Do it, if you possibly can.
*So THAT, ladies, is how to dress to discover the man of your dreams.
Apparently. . .
Tomorrow’s awesomeness: I haven’t the faintest idea. Although I now have the necessary equipment for Secret #3, so maybe I’ll do that.
Vampire Diaries (finished)
I will be posting today’s awesomeness in a separate post within half an hour. The next twittertale is “When Good Libraries Go Bad”, which begins on 1 July.
3
Woke up totally gross. Had a shower then realised I’m, like, a vampire now. My friend Sammy’s gonna be SO jealous!
*
Spent all day looking for a mirror that works. This sucks! Also I feel super hungry, and I get the feeling celery won’t fix this craving.
4
Killed a guy. He was, like, totally delicious!
5
Killed an old lady. Yuck, now my breath smells of mothballs.
6
Called Sammy. Said I’m totally a vampire.
She giggled, “You mean a vamp, right?”
“No! Well. . . that too.”
*
Sammy brought her new boyfriend over. SERIOUSLY yum. I know it seems rude to eat him, but I’m, like, evil now. He was finger-licking good.
*
Sammy had a totally unfair tantrum over me eating Bill. “I’m going to tell on you!” she said.
I said, “Who to? I’d sure love to eat a cop.”
7
Went outside. Got serious sunburn – like, with charring. I’m so buying spray tans from now on.
*
Sammy left a message on my machine. “My new friend Bunny’s totally going to get you. AND I have a new boyfriend, anyway. So there.”
*
Too embarrassed to go out with my skin looking so bad. Put off eating Sammy’s hot new treat until tomorrow.
8
Misty day. Went to Sammy’s house. The boyfriend was there, and BIG. They fought me off with frypans and a cricket bat. Stupid humans!
*
Hungry. Soooooo hungry. Almost as bad as doing the Atkins diet all over again. Stupid sun is out!
*
Ate Rover. Feel sick to my stomach, but I think that’s indigestion. Bad dog.
9
Short blonde at the door. My stomach rumbled. “Won’t you come in?” She smiled sweetly, and showed me what she had. A pointy stick.
*
I asked, “What’s that for? Making a tiny fence?”
She smiled, “I’m Bunny. I hear you don’t like sunshine.”
“But I do like visitors.”
*
I leapt for her throat. She slapped me aside, laughing. I grabbed for her pointy stick and she drove it into my belly. Ow! I ran.
10
Great. Now I’m stuck in a sewer hiding from someone called Bunny. I’m totally hungry, and my top is RUINED.
*
So hungry for so long, and no weight loss. That’s IT. I’m going to kill Bunny. And Sammy. And her big cricketer boyfriend.
*
I creep to Sammy’s house and Bunny is there. They’re sharpening weapons and laughing. I feel scared. Luckily, Sammy has a dog. Had.
11
I realise now that hiding in Sammy’s treehouse wasn’t a good idea. Sammy and whatsisface are climbing the ladder – and the sun’s out.
*
I kick the boy in the face and he flies backwards. Sammy screams, but no one hears. He doesn’t get up. I drag Sammy inside by the hair.
*
Sammy punches me right where Bunny stabbed me – and it doesn’t hurt a bit. I knock her out against the trunk and drink deeply. She’s spicy.
12
I wake up when my little finger catches fire from a hole in the treehouse roof. Sammy and her boy are glaring at me – alive. And Bunny. Oh.
*
“We drugged you,” says Bunny, “so you’ll tell us who made you a vamp.”
“Hollywood?” I slur.
Bunny rolls her eyes: “VampIRE.”
“Oh! I dunno.”
*
Bunny says, “Male? Female?”
“I didn’t see.”
She paces: “Where were you that night?”
“Um. . . at a club.”
“Right. Tomorrow we’ll go there.”
13
Bunny and Sammy leave my hands tied for our trip downtown to hunt my sire. The club is all flashing lights and skin. Hungry!
*
I spot my sire by smell – and by the fact that he’s flirting with a particularly delicious-looking redhead. Bunny sees where I’m looking.
*
“Mort!” I yell, “watch out!”
His head snaps up. Bunny shoves me aside and I run for it, hoping Mort gets away. He’s seriously hot.
14
I discovered I could find Mort by smell. Cool (and a bit gross.) He was in a really dorky lair with a bunch of others. “Hi again,” I said.
*
“Did I sire you?” said Mort.
I said, “Yep.”
“Was I really drunk?”
“Well – yes. Is your name really Mort?”
“Uh huh. Definitely not Bill.”
*
“I suppose you have questions about all this,” said Bill/Mort.
I said, “Oh! So many. First, what are vampires wearing this season?”
15
These other vampires don’t understand what being a vampire is all about: looking this good forever. And killing, of course (I suppose.)
*
That reminds me, I could do with a snack. If I can’t lose weight, I can’t gain it either. This vampire thing is to die for!
*
Ate a schoolkid on their way home. Feel MUCH better now, thank you. Even if some of the kid got stuck in my teeth. HOW embarrassing!
16
I still gotta kill Sammy and Bunny and whatsisface. It should be easy now they don’t have a dog. Not that Fifi was the guard dog type.
*
Sammy’s neighbour’s at home. I knock at the door and she opens it. “Myf?” I say.
She says, “Oh hello dear. Won’t you come in?”
*
Nom nom.
17
My new hideout is a little floral, but I like it. Sammy and Bunny never separate, but whatsisface comes and goes.
*
The bigger they are, the more blood for me to drink. Right? Right!
Unfortunately, Myf didn’t keep any decent weapons. Just cats.
*
Pretty sure throwing cats at whatsisface won’t kill him. I gotta be smart. Gotta think of a good plan. The kind that doesn’t get me killed.
18
Screw plans. Sick of an all-cat diet, I followed whatsisface until he was out of sight of Sammy’s house. Then I grabbed him from behind.
*
He threw me into a rose bush, but wasn’t smart enough to run away. I bounded out fangs first and got him. He struggled, but passed out.
*
Mort appeared. “If you were trying to turn him undead, you should have fed him some of your blood.”
“Oh. So turning him over won’t work?”
19
Time to party! I go out clubbing, and since I’m thirsty I drink about ten cocktails. Still thirsty, and now I’m wobbly too.
*
No wonder I’m shrunk. Drunk. I haven’t eaten all day. Shilly me. I let a boy take me out back jusht as Bunny and Sammy come in.
*
Is it jusht me, or do boys taste better than girls? I’m sure I’d be shober now if my victim wasn’t drunker than me. I stagger home.
20
No hangover. Being undead is the best! I peek out the window, but don’t see Sammy or Bunny. Do they know I killed whatsisface?
*
The door smashes into a million pieces. Bunny strides in.
Oh. They know. Time to run again.
21
Sammy and Bunny are never apart, and this stupid tree is scratching my patent leather jacket. Luckily I have an idea. And a printer.
*
Sammy gets the mail while Bunny lurks in the doorway. I see The Look on Sammy’s face and know my bait is working.
*
All the piece of paper says is, “9pm Sale tomorrow at Ladies’ Wear. Everything 90% off.”
22
Sammy snuck away from Bunny and I trailed her all the way to the mall. I’d already broken inside and turned the lights on, so she walked in.
*
“Hi Sammy.”
“Did you hear about the sale too? Where is everyone?”
I roll my eyes and lunge for her throat.
She squeals, but it’s no use.
*
“Thanks for not drugging me this time,” I say, and feed her my blood.
She passes out, so I amuse myself shopping at 100% off while I wait.
23
Sammy wakes up. Finally. I had to kill another neighbour so we had some place to stay. “Hungry?” I ask.
“Oh, yes.”
“How about Bunny?”
*
“Darn,” Sammy says at her own door.
Bunny asks what’s wrong.
“My key doesn’t seem to work.”
Bunny lets her in – and then pulls out a stake.
*
Bunny stabs Sammy in the heart and she falls to bits – literally.
“No!” I scream, but I can’t get in without an invitation.
24
I’m so totally bummed I eat Myf’s last cat. In the mall, I remember old times by eating a cute security guard. But I don’t feel better.
*
OK, I’m done moping. Bunny may have killed my best friend, but technically I killed her first. I’m going to start somewhere new: New York.
25
Being a fashion victim is serious now. I’ve switched from being the fashion police to being a fashion vigilante. Because some deserve death.
*
There’s a girl at the train station wearing a simply hideous jumper – so I drink her blood, and take her ticket. Life is good.
*
New York New York! So many people! Big, small, fat, thin. I can hear their blood pumping – singing to me. I shall never go hungry again.
26
Just had an amazing epifa– revelation. I’m EVIL and it’s Saturday night. So no more hiding. No more diary writing. I’m gonna go eat people.
THE END
#115: Visit godparents
I have a godfather (who, as far as I know, doesn’t own a gun or make unrefuseable offers). And a godmother (who, as far as I know, isn’t a fairy). They’re like a spare set of parents, but (since I don’t see them nearly as often) way nicer. (Both sets of parents are cringing now.)
My godparents live in Sydney, so whenever CJ and I are up there (which is often; I know many people who pop over to Sydney for the day on a regular basis – often to go shopping, ugh) we visit them for a meal. It’s always fun, because you never know who else will be there. They have three children (two of whom aren’t at home), a series of boarders, and an infinity of friends.
This time, my godfather had a tale to tell. His oldest daughter (that’s her in the above photo) is married and living in Guatemala. Her father cunningly timed his visit to coincide with:
a) a major volcanic eruption thirty kilometres away (we saw pictures of their yard covered in ankle-deep ash – apparently the in-laws had dinner to the tune of massive explosions).
b) a hurricane that stranded him for several days due to flooding.
c) a bizarro sinkhole two streets from my godsister’s work.
Exciting stuff.
Play along at home: Visit an obscure relative (or pick godparents for your children). Try to avoid major natural disasters.
“Vampire Diaries” so far:
3
Woke up totally gross. Had a shower then realised I’m, like, a vampire now. My friend Sammy’s gonna be SO jealous!
*
Spent all day looking for a mirror that works. This sucks! Also I feel super hungry, and I get the feeling celery won’t fix this craving.
4
Killed a guy. He was, like, totally delicious!
5
Killed an old lady. Yuck, now my breath smells of mothballs.
6
Called Sammy. Said I’m totally a vampire.
She giggled, “You mean a vamp, right?”
“No! Well. . . that too.”
*
Sammy brought her new boyfriend over. SERIOUSLY yum. I know it seems rude to eat him, but I’m, like, evil now. He was finger-licking good.
*
Sammy had a totally unfair tantrum over me eating Bill. “I’m going to tell on you!” she said.
I said, “Who to? I’d sure love to eat a cop.”
7
Went outside. Got serious sunburn – like, with charring. I’m so buying spray tans from now on.
*
Sammy left a message on my machine. “My new friend Bunny’s totally going to get you. AND I have a new boyfriend, anyway. So there.”
*
Too embarrassed to go out with my skin looking so bad. Put off eating Sammy’s hot new treat until tomorrow.
8
Misty day. Went to Sammy’s house. The boyfriend was there, and BIG. They fought me off with frypans and a cricket bat. Stupid humans!
*
Hungry. Soooooo hungry. Almost as bad as doing the Atkins diet all over again. Stupid sun is out!
*
Ate Rover. Feel sick to my stomach, but I think that’s indigestion. Bad dog.
9
Short blonde at the door. My stomach rumbled. “Won’t you come in?” She smiled sweetly, and showed me what she had. A pointy stick.
*
I asked, “What’s that for? Making a tiny fence?”
She smiled, “I’m Bunny. I hear you don’t like sunshine.”
“But I do like visitors.”
*
I leapt for her throat. She slapped me aside, laughing. I grabbed for her pointy stick and she drove it into my belly. Ow! I ran.
10
Great. Now I’m stuck in a sewer hiding from someone called Bunny. I’m totally hungry, and my top is RUINED.
*
So hungry for so long, and no weight loss. That’s IT. I’m going to kill Bunny. And Sammy. And her big cricketer boyfriend.
*
I creep to Sammy’s house and Bunny is there. They’re sharpening weapons and laughing. I feel scared. Luckily, Sammy has a dog. Had.
11
I realise now that hiding in Sammy’s treehouse wasn’t a good idea. Sammy and whatsisface are climbing the ladder – and the sun’s out.
*
I kick the boy in the face and he flies backwards. Sammy screams, but no one hears. He doesn’t get up. I drag Sammy inside by the hair.
*
Sammy punches me right where Bunny stabbed me – and it doesn’t hurt a bit. I knock her out against the trunk and drink deeply. She’s spicy.
12
I wake up when my little finger catches fire from a hole in the treehouse roof. Sammy and her boy are glaring at me – alive. And Bunny. Oh.
*
“We drugged you,” says Bunny, “so you’ll tell us who made you a vamp.”
“Hollywood?” I slur.
Bunny rolls her eyes: “VampIRE.”
“Oh! I dunno.”
*
Bunny says, “Male? Female?”
“I didn’t see.”
She paces: “Where were you that night?”
“Um. . . at a club.”
“Right. Tomorrow we’ll go there.”
13
Bunny and Sammy leave my hands tied for our trip downtown to hunt my sire. The club is all flashing lights and skin. Hungry!
*
I spot my sire by smell – and by the fact that he’s flirting with a particularly delicious-looking redhead. Bunny sees where I’m looking.
*
“Mort!” I yell, “watch out!”
His head snaps up. Bunny shoves me aside and I run for it, hoping Mort gets away. He’s seriously hot.
14
I discovered I could find Mort by smell. Cool (and a bit gross.) He was in a really dorky lair with a bunch of others. “Hi again,” I said.
*
“Did I sire you?” said Mort.
I said, “Yep.”
“Was I really drunk?”
“Well – yes. Is your name really Mort?”
“Uh huh. Definitely not Bill.”
*
“I suppose you have questions about all this,” said Bill/Mort.
I said, “Oh! So many. First, what are vampires wearing this season?”
15
These other vampires don’t understand what being a vampire is all about: looking this good forever. And killing, of course (I suppose.)
*
That reminds me, I could do with a snack. If I can’t lose weight, I can’t gain it either. This vampire thing is to die for!
*
Ate a schoolkid on their way home. Feel MUCH better now, thank you. Even if some of the kid got stuck in my teeth. HOW embarrassing!
16
I still gotta kill Sammy and Bunny and whatsisface. It should be easy now they don’t have a dog. Not that Fifi was the guard dog type.
*
Sammy’s neighbour’s at home. I knock at the door and she opens it. “Myf?” I say.
She says, “Oh hello dear. Won’t you come in?”
*
Nom nom.
17
My new hideout is a little floral, but I like it. Sammy and Bunny never separate, but whatsisface comes and goes.
*
The bigger they are, the more blood for me to drink. Right? Right!
Unfortunately, Myf didn’t keep any decent weapons. Just cats.
*
Pretty sure throwing cats at whatsisface won’t kill him. I gotta be smart. Gotta think of a good plan. The kind that doesn’t get me killed.
18
Screw plans. Sick of an all-cat diet, I followed whatsisface until he was out of sight of Sammy’s house. Then I grabbed him from behind.
*
He threw me into a rose bush, but wasn’t smart enough to run away. I bounded out fangs first and got him. He struggled, but passed out.
*
Mort appeared. “If you were trying to turn him undead, you should have fed him some of your blood.”
“Oh. So turning him over won’t work?”
19
Time to party! I go out clubbing, and since I’m thirsty I drink about ten cocktails. Still thirsty, and now I’m wobbly too.
*
No wonder I’m shrunk. Drunk. I haven’t eaten all day. Shilly me. I let a boy take me out back jusht as Bunny and Sammy come in.
*
Is it jusht me, or do boys taste better than girls? I’m sure I’d be shober now if my victim wasn’t drunker than me. I stagger home.
20
No hangover. Being undead is the best! I peek out the window, but don’t see Sammy or Bunny. Do they know I killed whatsisface?
*
The door smashes into a million pieces. Bunny strides in.
Oh. They know. Time to run again.
21
Sammy and Bunny are never apart, and this stupid tree is scratching my patent leather jacket. Luckily I have an idea. And a printer.
*
Sammy gets the mail while Bunny lurks in the doorway. I see The Look on Sammy’s face and know my bait is working.
*
All the piece of paper says is, “9pm Sale tomorrow at Ladies’ Wear. Everything 90% off.”
22
Sammy snuck away from Bunny and I trailed her all the way to the mall. I’d already broken inside and turned the lights on, so she walked in.
*
“Hi Sammy.”
“Did you hear about the sale too? Where is everyone?”
I roll my eyes and lunge for her throat.
She squeals, but it’s no use.
*
“Thanks for not drugging me this time,” I say, and feed her my blood.
She passes out, so I amuse myself shopping at 100% off while I wait.
23
Sammy wakes up. Finally. I had to kill another neighbour so we had some place to stay. “Hungry?” I ask.
“Oh, yes.”
“How about Bunny?”
*
“Darn,” Sammy says at her own door.
Bunny asks what’s wrong.
“My key doesn’t seem to work.”
Bunny lets her in – and then pulls out a stake.
*
Bunny stabs Sammy in the heart and she falls to bits – literally.
“No!” I scream, but I can’t get in without an invitation.
24
I’m so totally bummed I eat Myf’s last cat. In the mall, I remember old times by eating a cute security guard. But I don’t feel better.
*
OK, I’m done moping. Bunny may have killed my best friend, but technically I killed her first. I’m going to start somewhere new: New York.
25
Being a fashion victim is serious now. I’ve switched from being the fashion police to being a fashion vigilante. Because some deserve death.
*
There’s a girl at the train station wearing a simply hideous jumper – so I drink her blood, and take her ticket. Life is good.
*
New York New York! So many people! Big, small, fat, thin. I can hear their blood pumping – singing to me. I shall never go hungry again.
Three-Ingredient Thursday: Cream Cheese Lunch of Doom
Steff Metal suggested in last week’s comments that I should grill bread and thinly-sliced zucchini, and combine them with cream cheese (and sneak in some coriander when no-one’s looking). I did (minus the coriander, since I don’t like it). But, since I was experimenting, I also tried THIS:
I washed and peeled the potato and sliced it into pieces about half a centimetre thick (or a quarter inch), then baked them (20 minutes in a flat tray on high, then turned over for another ten minutes as the zucchini cooked). I sliced the zucchini as thin as I could and fried it in butter (butter as a cooking fat is considered a freebie ingredient by the rules I’m using – ditto for the spray oil I used on the potatoes).
Then I slightly-microwaved the cream cheese to make it spreadable, and made potato/cream cheese/zucchini sandwiches.
Most. Delicious. Thing. Ever.
Remember that block of cream cheese in the first photo? Most of it is now in my belly. I ate these things constantly for three days. I’m eating them again for a side with dinner tonight (this blog is usually a few days behind real time), and I can’t wait!
Next Thursday: Dessert.
Today’s fruit: mandarin for morning tea; dried figs for dessert (figs = fibre)
Today’s vegies: Avocado with lunch; celery and hommus for afternoon tea; mushrooms and potato-and-zucchini things with dinner (celery = cool food).
In Australia, we just switched Prime Ministers. Strange but true – and yes, it was just as sudden as it seemed (and yes, we’re having an election later this year). I wrote about it at https://felicitybloomfield.wordpress.com (my slightly less child-safe/cheerful blog, which is still G or PG rated).
Felicity Banks 