Self got another rejection, this from The Collagist.
Did she ever share with dear blog readers that Manila Noir got a REALLY good review from Publishers Weekly? Yay! Big, big shout-out to Jessica Hagedorn, for doing such a smart job with the anthology (and La Hagedorn has a new story in it, too)
She bought a greeting card (with dolphins on the front) to give to son on Saturday, after his graduation ceremony at Claremont.
In honor of the occasion, today self delivered The Ancient One to the pet hospital, where she will board for the weekend. Self drove so slowly that at least two SUVs honked her. But never mind! The Ancient One has a tendency to car-sickness. She kinda let her bladder go all over self’s jeans (the only pair of jeans self has left, because four were in the suitcase that got stolen in Venice) when self was carrying her down. Despite smelling like pee, self made herself wander the San Carlos Farmers Market. This you can do in America: she’d never dare wander Bacolod smelling like pee, but here no one gives a hoot. It’s so much less stressful.
Because self and The Man have junkers for cars, every time we go south, we must rent. And this time, self decided to splurge a little, because she rented a Prius. And Holy Cow! She’s never driven a car that didn’t have an ignition. Only a wee button to press. Plus, there was so much unfamiliar electrical whirring going on, every time she did something (like switch from “Park” to “Reverse” mode) that self felt like she was operating from inside a battery. It was so much fun renting this car, because self was in the wrong line. She picked the shortest line, and only after she got to the front did she learn that she had been in the line reserved for “Executive Members of the Fastbreak Club,” whatever that means. But never mind. Rather than send her to the back of another line, the busy rep actually made the time to get self a nice car, and she even confided to self that she, too, had a birthday in July. “Which makes you a Cancer,” self said. “My husband’s an Aquarius. They’re supposed to be very incompatible with Cancer.” The sales rep said, “My husband’s a Pisces. Is that compatible with Cancer?” “Yes,” self asserted. “Pisces and Cancer go together like white on rice.” (Lordy, just see how self rattles on!)
Anyhoo, The Man is very excited that we will be on Highway 5. Because it passes Coalinga. And in Coalinga there are humongous ranches, including Harris Ranch. Which means steak restaurants. And that’s all he’s been talking about for days.
Today, self was in the Chef Shop in San Carlos and she saw so many fancy kitchen implements. Since son and his girlfriend are moving in together, self decided to give son a call and ask him if he already had a rice cooker. He said he did. So self was quite at a loss for what to get him. She decided to control her impulse to shop, and walked out of the store with only a ceramic butter dish. Pats on the back, self!