Saturday Night Silliness -- Random Musings of a Writer Lady and Her Cat.

*For Mom.   I decided that the only way I was going to get out of the room and away from the man of every woman’s dreams was by reaching down; deep, deep, deep down and finding a speck of courage. I prayed that there was still some left. Accepting the ticket, dress shopping with my sister, along with the trip into the city and the time spent in the salon had already been a long and difficult journey outside my comfort zone. With any luck, I had another thirty seconds of bravery hidden some place. I took a deep breath, looked at Ryan Joseph and said, “It was really nice of you to come over here to talk with me when everyone else has gone, the event is clearly over. You must be exhausted.” Unfortunately, it was not long before my resolve began to waver, I started rattling. “I know I would be both mentally and emotionally exhausted if I had said hello to half of the people who were here tonight and you have to do it...all the time.” His eyes didn’t leave mine as I stood up.

*Profanity.   I am a terrible liar. I have been for my entire life. You know how some kids suck at things but as they grow up their skills improve? Not me. I never got better at cooking, dating, or lying. When you’re a kid and you tell a lie you find yourself standing in the corner or something. When you’re an adult, unless you lie about something big or to someone important there is no one to stand you in a corner and remind you not to do it. Instead you end up in situations like the one I’m in right now. Sitting in a nearly empty hotel ballroom in a ridiculously overpriced cocktail dress knowing that I wasted $800.00 of my family’s money-they don’t know I looked up the ticket price—hiding at a meet and greet for a celebrity I haven’t drooled over since 2003. How did this happen? Simple. I told a lie. It was an important lie. A lie for my continued survival. A lie for my own sanity. If you had been in my place you would have done the same thing. If you wouldn’t hav

Writer Lady continues typing. Something strange is going on in the upper right hand corner of the screen. She finds it unsettling. Deciding she must be seeing things because, look at who she has been dealing with today, she decides the fact the X in Close seems to pulse faintly every now and then has to be her imagination. She continues with her work. The X pulses faintly again. She tries to ignore it. The X sits dormant for a time and then pulses for one-two- three seconds then goes back to normal for approximately two minutes at which time it pulses again as she watches. “How are things going Diomedes?” She asks without turning around. “All is quiet Milady.” The icon pulses again. “Stop it. Just stop.” She comments to the screen. “Milady?” “After all that’s been going on now my computer is not cooperating.” She turns and faces the dragon. “I’m sorry I growled.” “May I?” Diomedes asks. Writer Lady nods. The dragon inches closer to Writer Lady and her c

  Recognizing the upper hand, Tinkletoes stands up. He exits the living room and crosses the hall way with reignited confidence. The self-proclaimed mercenary knocks on High Command’s door. “Go Away.” Knock-knock-knock. “I know the sound of your knock. Go Away!” Knock-knock-knock. Writer Lady has already began talking before she opens the door. “Banned means you can’t come in, if you don’t believe me I will be happy to show you a dictionary.” “There are no Nathans.” Tinkletoes says. “That is your argument?” Writer Lady eyes Tinkletoes suspiciously. “Yes.” “Would you mind stepping into the living room please.” Writer Lady heads for the living room making it a point of closing the door to High Command behind her, just in case some Halo playing, baked good eating Neanderthal tries to pull a fast one. “If you would turn your attention to Exhibit A and tell the jury what you see.” Tinkletoes says. “A full living room, an empty cupcake container..

  “Are you attempting to tell me what to do not only in my own home but in High Command, my writing room, my private space?” “Umm...ye-ah?” “What makes you think you can do that?” Writer Lady asks. Tinkletoes shifts his weight and looks at the floor. “What makes you think you can do that?” She asks more emphatically. Nothing happens. She lowers her head to catch his eye. “My eyes are up here.” She says pointing to her face. “What was your logic?” Tinkletoes makes a face. “Lo-gic.” “Umm…” Carp leans in and whispers to the self-proclaimed mercenary, “What were you thinking when you told her what to do.” “Being the alpha male within this dwelling it is my prerogative to dictate what is done in said dwelling.” “Let’s see...you’re not my father, not my husband, and you don’t pay the bills. You don’t even live here. And even if you were one of those things you still would have no say as to how I spend my time.” Writer Lady glares, calling up

  Dylan pokes his head into the room. His older sister Paige’s head, appears just above his. “Ray wants to know if there are cookies.” He says. Writer Lady situates herself so she can peer around Tinkletoes’ side. “We are out of cookies.” “Is there anything else to snack on?” The six year old asks. “We’re hungry.” “We are out of snack crackers, chips, and pretzels.” Writer Lady responds, as she runs through a mental list. “Chocolate and soda too.” “There’s no food.” Dylan announces. He raises his eyes to his sister. “We’re gonna starve.” “We’re out of junk food you big baby.” Paige responds to her brother. “There’s plenty of food in the house. Eat an apple.” Tinkletoes turns to face the children. “Writer Lady is being naughty. Go eat your apples. I’m gonna see to it that she behaves.” TP pops in, floating in front of Tinkletoes. “Don’t look down. You’re gonna get it now.” The faerie giggles. Tinkletoes looks down. Writer Lady’s face is red, her

*No Nathans were injured or killed during the writing of this story although one self-proclaimed mercenary might not be so lucky.                                                                           Nathan Writing out the name, she underlined it. Twice. Why it needed to be underlined two times and not just one, she wasn’t quite sure. Julia never knew where stories were headed when she began writing them and this time was no different. There she sat, pen in hand, staring at the name Nathan and its lines of emphasis. Minutes passed. She put down her pen and picked up her coffee, cradling the warm mug between her hands, Julia raised her eyes studying the coffee shop’s other patrons. What kind of a man is this is this character Nathan? What is his story? Is it an adventure? A mystery? A love story? Hearing raised voices coming from the front of the restaurant, Julia turned her attention in the direction of the offending sounds. A woman was leaning ac

*Email address soldierboy01@TPMail is completely fictional. No soldier boys exist at TP Mail because TP Mail was created by a mischievous faerie and does not actually exist.     **The characters of HR Apostos' blog and the FBI guys are the heroes in this story. No FBI guys were harmed in any way during the writing of the blog because this is fiction: none of it really happened.   The first thing Tinkletoes, Dobby, and Ray hear is a sucking noise. A fan stops running inside Writer Lady’s computer tower. “Dude...you okay?” Ray asks, looking at it. “One moment please,” is heard coming from the tower’s depths along with indistinct muttering. The fan begins running again. Dobby Cat jumps on the table and peers in through the holes on the of the tower’s cover. A strange glow illuminates the inside. “What’s going on?” Tinkletoes asks. The ginger tabby looks at Tinkletoes, “TP’s talking but I can’t make out the words.” “You can hear that? That’s got to be a 34 dec