I’m not dead yet…I think I’m getting better.
I didn’t die last night either. Tomorrow I get to have my ass kicked by Saveau. I got shot in the shoulder, though. It’s a cute little bullet hole. Especially considering that Cassie Banning seems like the type to pack hollow-point bullets…which flatten out on impact, and create exit wounds roughly the size of…oh, an average-sized woman’s shoulder.
As Bob Wagner said, “It would go in about twice that size, and blow a chunk the size of a barn door out the back.” As gifted with hyperbole as Bob is, that is not much of an exaggeration.
But this isn’t about reality.
Big thanks and kudos for gopher and scary vamp extraordinaire Conrad for calling around and wrangling us some vamps. Thanks to everyone who took the time and effort to turn us out 11 (count them) eleven! Gorgeous, vampy extras. Christina and Tarra, you looked marvelous. Everyone did. There was a couple there I’d never met before…PAINFULLY beautiful. The lady reminded me a little of Ianra.
Sasha, you did good too. Woman, you know how to bring the acting skillz…and you did good as vamp wrangler too. You and Kristi made those fight scenes WORK. The energy you two have developed together is incredible. I’ve never seen anyone master those moves so quickly, and with such a balance of grace and power.
I KNEW it would work out (no, I didn’t, but I should have). The Hand of God has been on us recently (in the good, wholesome way…not the creepy wrong way). Everything seems to have worked out for the best the last couple of weeks. Although God can be a bit of a drama queen, and doesn’t really let on that everything is A-OK until the last moment.
Example: The state of Minnesota holds a youth deer hunt the weekend before the season opens. Deer hunters under the age of 18 can get an extra weekend of hunting in to better ensure that they get a deer. We went out and bought Adventure Boy a license and planned to head up to my folk’s place on the border to make sure he got to do this hunt. We turned down, or compensated for several invitations for cool stuff to do this. Adventure Boy was really jazzed. My mom was fairly dancing at the thought of having us all come up…
We got up early, hustled to get everything packed into the car (Rocky and Adventure Boy spent the whole previous day getting things ready), and took off. I was driving so Rocky could work (cough* workaholic* cough).
Then, as often happens, Rocky had the urge to go over all of the licenses and paperwork and make sure we had EVERYTHING in order. As he was checking the licenses, he noticed for the first time, that Adventure Boy did not have the appropriate endorsement on his license to permit him to do the youth hunt. Apparently, there was a paperwork snafu, and Adventure Boy would be unable to hunt.
We turned around and drove back to the house, completely disbelieving our bad luck. Rocky was kicking himself for not checking THAT particular bit of data (he checked to make sure the information and zone designation were right)…it was a total bummer.
But then we got home and unpacked the truck, and sat down and RELAXED. I mean, for the first time in weeks. Adventure Boy pulled out the Serenity Role-playing handbook he and Grasshopper and Rocky had got at The Source a few weeks ago, and we started rolling up characters.
There were a million things we COULD have done. There were at least a half-dozen things I SHOULD have done. But we gamed instead, just us…just our family, and I think it was only then that we realized how much we NEEDED that. It fed something that had been starving, forgotten in the back rooms of our souls.
The universe knew what we needed better than we did, and hit us on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper and said “NO! Bad monkeys. No cookie”.
Example: The wonderful vamp turn-out we had when we thought we’d be lucky to get five extras. Although like I said, and I’m not complaining…just commenting…I wonder if it was REALLY necessary for the o-mighty to let us twist in fear right up to the last minute. But hey, he’s God, and he needs to have his fun too. Everything worked out.
Example: Last night I got home at 11:30 to find Rocky still hard at work. He was in a panic. He had lost some important pieces of paper. Really important. He was trying to remember where they were, and if he couldn’t find them it was a situation that come close to financial disaster.
He thought I might have done something with them. I had, but that was weeks before and he had been the guy with the ball since then…and he couldn’t remember what he did with them.
I walked him through the day the last time he remembered having them; nada. We strategize a number of scenarios for solving the problem if the papers were never found. We wracked our brains until about 12:30 and then I put my foot down.
“We’re going to bed. There’s nothing more we can do until tomorrow. It is time to sleep now.” Rocky adamantly insisted that he would not be able to sleep until said pieces of paper were found. I secretly vowed to bludgeon him into unconsciousness if I had to, because I get up at 6:30AM to get the kids ready for school, and I’ve been at shootings for VAMPIRE movies two nights running…and I was going to sleep.
So we brushed our teeth and checked on the kids, and as I walked down our hallway, I noticed Grasshopper’s Yoda costume lying on the floor. I picked it up, and moved it over by the bookcase, so it wouldn’t get walked on. After placing it carefully out of the way, I happened to look up, and there were the faintest hint of the edges of two pieces of paper peeking over the top of the bookcase.
Sure enough, they were the items in question. Rocky had been panicking for five hours about these pieces of paper. On a fluke, I just happen to catch sight of them in a place I would NEVER have thought of looking. Twice a year I dust the top of that bookshelf. That’s all the attention I pay to it. Hand of God, I tell you.
Sheesh. I think Depeche Mode was right. God DOES have a sick sense of humor.