Et tu, Brute?

Et tu, Brute?

I believe I am being heckled. First there is Amy using TOO in a completely gratuitous and totally uncalled for way, as in, “I, TOO, am paranoid and obsessive”. Then Dee suggesting I should take personal responsibility, which is CLEARLY against my credo. And then my own mother who is trying to post blog comments but ends up emailing me instead by accident (when God created my mother, he felt that it wouldn’t be fitting that one human being know absolutely EVERYthing, so he decided what she would not know would be everything to do with computers. My mother knows so much about everything else that she has projected an aura throughout her entire house. For example, we have the exact same brand of washing machine on the exact same settings but hers will get off carrots and mine just sets them forever and ruins yet another cute little outfit. I am a mother, now, too; I thought the position came with powers. I thought you learned this stuff in labor. What is going to happen to my daughter when she grows up without a mother who knows everything or at least how to get out stains? Speaking of which, if you are a mother, go read Confessions of a Super Mom).***

WHAT comments is my own mother trying to post on her daughter’s blog? Accusations of lying. Lying about her and truffles. Well, truthfully, what she actually tried to post but ended up emailing by mistake was a series of compliments she has been collecting from the 500 people she and my father have given my book to, see under “Blind support.” She did however add a (deliberate) email that said: “even though you told lies about me about the truffles. Well, exaggerations. Okay, mea culpa.” Apparently she realized that if I said she ate one truffle, and she DID eat one truffle, that could not possibly count as an exaggeration. She did not eat half a truffle. I’ve never known anyone to eat half a truffle, in fact.

Anyway, I am being brave in the face of all this heckling and just going around the house muttering lots of Shakespeare, which I always enjoy doing anyway; the man has quite an amazing array of quotes that can be wielded against hecklers. Umm…I hope going around the house muttering Shakespeare isn’t going to make anyone comment anything like, “I, TOO, am completely nuts.”

Because I would be very suspicious about that TOO.

***About the parenthetical asides. I do like a parenthetical aside. I control myself in my work for publication, and don’t use them at all, but since this is a blog, I get to play, and I should warn everyone that I love, love, love e.e. cummings. I think he’s one of the best poets ever. Take a look at these first two lines of one of his poems:

hush)

noones are coming out in the gloaming

That is worth volumes of other poetry all by itself. And e.e. cummings certainly had a way with parentheses. In that particular poem I just quoted, you feel like he has ellipsized the whole world and placed it outside the entire content of this poem by starting and ending it with hush) and (hush. His influence perhaps wore off on me, perhaps a little too much.

In fact, in the ninth grade, we had the best English teacher EVER, Mr. Entrekin, who would stop me after class and hand me notes telling me what extra books I was supposed to read that week in addition to the regular class reading list, and they would be things like Brothers Karamazov and War and Peace, Crime and Punishment and Anna Karenina. You think I’m kidding about War and Peace as an extra, no credit just-do-it-because-I-have-high-standards-for-you assignment to a high school student, aren’t you? Nope. And I read it, too. The only one of his suggestions I didn’t read was Anna Karenina, because he passed away mid-year completely unexpectedly and I just didn’t have the heart for it anymore. Also, Tolstoy has some weird ideas about women that just did not do it for me. But Mr. Entrekin and my father between them started me on a Dostoyevsky kick that I think got me through most of D.’s major works.

Anyway, I so favored ellipses of all kinds that at one point I got a paper back from him that said, “Fewer dashes, Bozette!” on the top of it. And–this is what kind of nerd I was–I raised my hand and said, “I don’t understand. What does this mean?” And he said, “Well, you get us lost in your dashes. Straighten out your sentences some.” And I said, “No, I mean ‘Bozette’. What does ‘Bozette’ mean?” And he had to explain to me, in front of the whole class, that it was the feminine of Bozo. And if you are such a Bozette that you ask what Bozette means in front of the whole class…well. Then you have embarrassed yourself, what can I say? Even I have to blame that one on me.

10 Comments
  • I didn’t mean to HECKLE. I meant to BOND!

    January 8, 2007 at 2:54 pm
  • Paranoid and obsessive people are VERY difficult to bond with. 🙂 I have it on good authority, but I wouldn’t KNOW, not being one, of course.

    January 8, 2007 at 3:14 pm
  • I don’t THINK they’re grainy, and I have no idea what pateux means, and I’m almost done with your book and loving it, and kind of annoyed with the children because they started throwing water out of the tub, which meant I had to stop reading and wash them and get them out of the tub, instead of finishing the book while they shriveled up in the water.

    Ok, so I have a run-on sentence problem. 🙂

    Where would one send chocolates, if one wanted to make amends for alleged heckling, even if they weren’t homemade and weren’t even European?

    January 9, 2007 at 6:01 pm
  • Heckle? Me? Surely you jest. Methinks the lady doth protest too much! 🙂
    And I have to tell you, I’m really enjoying your blog. Even though I don’t have my truffles yet. I’m starting to suspect that you just sent them to Amy. Or maybe my mail carrier really did sniff them out and take them. Or maybe it was my oldest daughter. She gave me the weirdest look when she handed me the mail and I wailed “WHAT?!? No truffles again TODAY?!” I’m not sure if she was hiding something, or just wondering how long it would be before they fitter me for one of those cute little wrpa-around white coats.
    So yeah, basicaly, maybe I, too, AM completely nuts! ;>)

    January 9, 2007 at 8:08 pm
  • There’s that TOO again. Also, Dee, I think I saw your oldest daughter on your blog. She’s very pretty, but maybe that big smile was for a REASON. Like truffles.

    Amy, that’s the kind of attitude I like! I should accuse people of heckling more often. Although, I notice DEE didn’t offer chocolate, and my mom’s probably just rolling her eyes and wondering where she went wrong. No, seriously, the truffles were your PRIZE. For nefariety and good stories. You don’t have to send me chocolate, too! I would feel greedy. Which I AM, but, you know, greedi-ER.

    What I really need right now is to know where to find a plastic tiara fast, with no time to look. Especially one I can hide in a purse in case I am the only person besides Jill Conner Browne who brings one. But probably even if the whole room was full of tiara-wearing women, I would still never have the courage to wear it. Look what happened that time I tried to wear feathers.

    Thanks for the compliments on BIoP! (Not to be confused with a medical procedure.)

    January 9, 2007 at 9:04 pm
  • Ok, first off, go to PARTY CITY or someplace like that for your tiara. They usually keep them in stock. There, I solved your problem. Aren’t you glad I’m here? lol

    Ok, now for the good stuff… I GOT TRUFFLE LOVE IN THE MAIL TODAY. Yes, I’m glad to say that the mail carrier did not sneak off with my chocolate. Yes, I’m also glad to report that the oldest is actually blame-free in this. However, listen to this: One of those beautiful dark little gorgeous things decided to make an escape from that tastefully sealed little white box. Yes, that’s right. One of the truffles popped right out of the box and decided to roll around in that big envelope for what looks like most of it’s journey from you to me. But that’s a WONDERFUL thing, and I’ll tell you why. Your book not only SMELLS like chocolate, it actually HAS little flakes of choclate all over the cover. The chocolate is mushed into the top, side, and bottom edges of every single page. I LOVE THIS!! I told my husband on the phone today that when I get my fist book published, I’m going to insist that at least 1000 copies are sprinkled with chocolate, because obviously whoever reads those copies could not help but also love the book. Right?
    I actually wondered if this was a shameless ploy on your part. You know, cover the book in chocolate and then the reviewer can’t help but totally ADORE it, right? But then I thought, Who in the world would do that to good chocolate, nuch less a divine book? So I just chalked it up to serendipity. You know I love chocolate. You know I love books. Somewhere out there, the chocolate and book gods are smiling down on me today.

    I thank you, I Thank You, I THANK YOU!! You are a book-writing, chocolate-sending goddess!

    January 10, 2007 at 5:01 pm
  • Ink. I’m thinking they should print my books in chocolate scented ink.

    But are you sure it’s a good thing? ‘Cause it sounds as if your book was ruined AND a truffle was ruined. I don’t want you to get an inferior prize!

    January 11, 2007 at 6:08 am
  • What in the world made you think either of them was RUINED? I have SIX kids. The one lone truffle that jumped ship was still partially intact, and one of the boys sucked it right up. No chocolate was lost in the making of your divine truffle smelling book, I promise! As for the book, as I’m almost done with it now, I can assure you that it didn’t need the smell to enhance my pleasure, but really, is chocolate ever a bad thing? I think not!
    Inferior prize? I was actually thinking about suggesting to Amy that she put on of her truffles in a huse ziplock with the book and shake it arund for about 6 hours. Then I thought – she’ll think *I* am insane too!
    There’s that TOO again, right? But now, after reading the book, at least I understand your reaction a little better. This book is divine, just like the truffles. Yummy!

    January 11, 2007 at 11:31 am
  • Six kids! And you manage to write and blog and all that? And here I feel so overwhelmed with one. Are you like my mom? Because when she had her first baby, she went CAMPING for three months when the baby was three months old, and she said mostly it was easy as anything, but the only time it was a little hard was the week it rained an entire seven days without stopping. Seriously she said this. I am not exaggerating. Are you like that and that’s why you can write and blog and review books and manage to save a truffle for yourself from six kids all at the same time?

    January 11, 2007 at 5:23 pm

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