Spider on the Freeway

On Monday, I had lunch with some folks I went to high school with. One woman I hadn't seen in more than 20 years turns out to be married to literary agent Chip Macgregor - which made for interesting lunch table conversation. For us, at least. As I was driving there, I noticed a large spider crawling near my door. I HATE spiders. Then it began to drop down on a web - heading straight for my thigh. I shrieked, rolled down the window, and tried to brush the web so that the spider would land outside the car. All while maintaining my lane and traffic flow. Instead, I just broke the web. The spider fell to the floor of my car. And promptly disappeared. I stomped around with my left foot while still staying at 65 with my right foot. I finally had to give up. I couldn't see it (it's actually really hard to see the footwell without moving your legs, which isn't a good idea when you're surrounded by cars). But the whole time, I kept feeling the tiniest of tickles on my sandaled feet and bare legs.

An open letter to folks at the gym

Dear Anonymous: I know it's easy to drop your keys/water bottle/Blackberry/sweaty towels on the nearest piece of equipment, but what about those of us who actually want to use it, but don't want to violate the unspoken "don't touch my stuff' rule? Dear Middle-Aged Guy in the White Snake T-Shirt: Dude, I know it seemed like a genius idea to cut off the sleeves to give yourself more mobility. But what possessed you to cut out the sides as well? I could see way more of the reason you decided to start going to the gym than I really wanted to. Dear Guy with the I-Pod Who Did One-Million Rapid Sit-Ups with Rabid Intensity: Maybe you can't hear yourself over your music, but the rest of us can hear your loud pants and groans, as your breath gets faster and faster. It's like porno without the visuals. Just sayin'.

The end is in sight

I can see the end in sight for the book I'm writing on spec. What will happen (mostly), how and why. Here's the end of one chapter of The Girl in the Mini Cooper: ===== The thing is, I think I might want Kayla to be dead. Because what’s the alternative? That someone took her. Either that Cody guy or someone else, someone worse. Someone took her and has her and can do whatever they want to her. I used to like movies with plots like that. Maybe not like them, but I watched the DVDs with my mom when she brought them home. After she got off work she would go over to the video store next to the Thriftway. Slasher movies. Hidden underground torture chambers. Handcuffs and gags and chains. Blood spattering on the walls, sometimes in slo-mo. The creative use of a nail gun or a rusty saw or a shiny scalpel. But when it’s not a movie? When it’s not fake? When you can’t push the power button and watch the light on the TV turn into a little white dot in the middle of the screen and then disappear? When it’s really Kayla’s pale skin, Kayla’s blood? Then maybe it would be better if she were dead and in the river.

One twin claimed her blood, the other her bladder

I’m fascinated by the idea of chimeras, which happens when twins become one person in utero very early on in the pregnancy. According to Wikipedia, “For example, the chimera may have a liver composed of cells with one set of chromosomes and have a kidney composed of cells with a second set of chromosomes. This has occurred in humans, and at one time was thought to be extremely rare, though more recent evidence suggests that it is not as rare as previously believed. Most will go through life without realizing they are chimeras. The difference in phenotypes may be subtle (e.g., having a hitchhiker's thumb and a straight thumb, eyes of slightly different colors, differential hair growth on opposite sides of the body, etc) or completely undetectable .” Go here and start about 4.5 minutes in to hear about a woman who discovered she was a chimera when she was told DNA tests showed she was not related to her sons.