I have met the devil, she has a ponytail and wears yoga pants...

Even if you're not Catholic we all have heard the stories about the scary fella living beneath us with the little red horns.

(No, not that fella. That's my uncle Steve and hopefully he will move out and stop reliving halloween daily. Dude! It's creepy, stop!)

On the plus side we no longer have rugrats at our door on Halloween
Sometimes creepiness pays...in mini Mars bars.

Sorry about that, back to the real devil.
When most people think of the devil and hell they picture a hideous creature with horns who snaps his gum constaaantly in a triplex of fire and no cable...'shudder'


We all have our own version of hell.

I've met her...actually I've met all of them.
------? Her?  All of them?
Yep,and yep.
 Shocked you didn't I?


You're like 'WHAT?!"
I'm like 'YA-HUNH!"
You're like 'NO WAY!"
I'm like "WAY!"
You're like "INCONCEIVABLE"
I'm like 'CAN WE STOP SHOUTING NOW?"

10 points to who got the 'inconceivable' movie reference.
No really keep track as big, no Huge prize for the winner .
FYI How do most of you feel about balls of dog hair? Big ones?

I met her in a seemingly innocuous place.


Bootcamp.


After all these centuries of tears, screams and causing people agony she figured let's make a little bit of coin with this.


(Recession hit everyone folks, those daily pineapples, that are shoved up Hitlers you know where, don't come cheap)


She prettied herself up along with her fellow devils, okay, to be specific there isn't really a bunch of devils they are just her minions (motivators) to lure people in.

This is what I see at bootcamp when  they are trying to 'motivate' (hurt) me.

The minions motivators are gorgeous ladies who suddenly appear beside you during bootcamp just when you are ready to say uncle (Not uncle Steve though, eww!) and urge you to keep going.


She makes a different minion for all types of people.


There's the one who...


You know what?
I'm going to hold off describing them right now because if my instincts are right and they might be reading this I might actually have some leverage for slacking off.


Hmm, maybe some of her devilish nature is rubbing off on me.

Until next time, my minions.

Things learned today...claustrophobic vagina's and footy p.j's don't help in making me a better writer.

I'm at a writer's retreat this weekend.

At times I'm not sure if I should be here 'cause I'm kind of cheating.

No,no! Not cheating cheating like with another guy.

(Not with another girl either as none of them are my type....as in 'they have vagina's' kind of type. I have no problem with the vajayjay but I think it has to do with my being claustrophobic that I like things that stick out as opposed to enclose you.)

You thought this comic would have something to do with lesbians or  claustrophobic vaginas, didn't you?
Nah, it's just funny.

Anyhoo, I've listened to the other writers at the retreat talk about what they are working on

.

One is going back and editing her first draft. Awesome!

One is trying to decide if she should make her book into two different ones she has so many ideas. Great!

One is using multi-media  in her book. Uber artistic in every way. (No sarcasm meant there, she actually is.)

And so on...

Then there is me...♪doobydoobydoonotdoinganythingbutlookinggooddoingit.♪

First things first, let's get the important parts done.

I do have the look of the writer down pat.

Just like that except with boobs.

#1. Frown on forehead like I am writing the Magna carta (don't ask me what that is but it sounds important).

#2. Hunched over computer like their is nothing more important than getting this amazing story down immediately. (Hey, I just got poked on Facebook! I better poke her right back or .....I'd better do something more important. Oh, look lolcatz!)

#3. Gazing off into space and organising different plot lines in my head. (Yup, it's definitely the claustrophobia problem that is keeping me with the male side of the species.)

I'm surrounded by pens and paper and have studiously written down some key points.

#1. These chairs are uncomfortable and hard so if I fart the sound won't be muffled and they'll  know its me.

#2. How many times can I get up to go to the bathroom without the others thinking I have a coke problem.

#3. I wonder if there's a set aside nap time like in day care?

Oh, I haven't actually done anything to do with becoming a better writer. Pshaaw! Please!

What do you think I'm trying to do here?

Oh...that's right.

We did have a content editor, Netta, skype in to give us some information on some do's and don'ts before sending your first draft into an editor.
She was as funny as church which is a big compliment in my mind.
(Come on, church is hilarious! The guy is up there in a leftover Liberace muumuu  giving us 'the body of christ' to munch on... does no one else want to ask for it ' medium rare please' when he holds it out in front of you? 
Really, no one?)

Do you want mushrooms and onions with that?

So I'm glancing around at everyone furiously scribbling down everything Netta is saying and all I can think is she sounds like Betty Rubble when she laughs and I want to move to St. Louis and hang out by the pool with her telling jokes so she'll keep laughing.

Then she asks if anyone has any questions and of course when I realise that no one else's questions involve  watching either a marathon session of Vampire Diaries or WKRP in Cincinnati  in footie pajamas, I start to panic.

Yay! You picked WKRP, I knew we were destined to be friends!

Of course being the person I am, calm and cool under pressure I did what any normal person would do.

I proceeded to flash her.

------------

A slow motion accidental one but a definite flash none the less.

------------


Yeeeaah....I don't think I need to say how it happened. Anyone who has read previous posts of mine know that the word normalcy is not something ever in connection with mine.


So the thing's I have learned so far at this writer's retreat are as follows.

#1. Every body part of mine is claustrophobic, not just my brain.

#2. The answer is that it is 4 times you can go to the bathroom before they call Dr. Drew.

#3. Adults in footie pajamas who flash people they just met tend to not make new friends easily.


Off to cheat some more, blogarilla's.

Jumping out of a plane and a new asshole all in one day.

I have discovered that I might just have some English blood flowing through me.
Either that or I might have sat on a pointy vertical stick at some point in time.

Neither being very appealing.

The reason I bring this up is that I did something out of the ordinary last week.

I jumped out of a plane.

............?

Yeah, I stated that pretty calmly didn't I?
Which doesn't make much sense to those that know me.
I am a pretty emotional chica.

I get all shouty after the adrenaline of  bootcamp.
I get mega shouty  after the joy of eating french macaroons.
Hell, I used to get all shouty in high school when my period would finally come.( Woohoo! Dodged another bullet!)

But back to my absurd calmness. It started with a simple dinner.
I was visiting the hubby's, aka the frenchmen's, family in Vancouver Island.
I was sitting with my brother and nephew in law who are SARTECHS, which is a short term for Search and Rescue.

They were talking about their weekend doing instructional parachute jumps for first timers.

I of course immediately thought of what it would feel like to have these guys dropping out of an airplane in their bright orange jumpsuits to rescue me.

                    'THANKFUCKYOUFOUNDMEIALMOSTGOTEATENOUTHERE!'
    (See what I mean about being all shouty?)


'Um, miss. You have a blister on your foot and last time I checked butterflies aren't maneaters. You really can't keep calling us whenever you get lost in the parking lot mall anymore.'

Um, I beg to differ

Anyhoo, we were sitting at the dining room table when they started begging me and the offspring to join them at the drop zone (That's where skydivers hope to arrive all in one piece, including bladder intact) that weekend.
I being the brave creature I am said 'yeah,whatever...nothing else going on'.
Then I took off my unicorn horn and floated gently through the ceiling...

Ehm, back to reality
 I overheard them talking about taking a bachelor party out for lessons and immediately thought 'Drunk men plummeting to earth one after the other, this will be like a human version of the WKRP turkey fiasco!  I have to be there to see this!

So did I bud, so did I...

So a plan was arranged.

Later I shot out of bed in the middle of the night frantically shaking the frenchmen awake.
'Whatthehell..?'
'Did I just agree to the offspring and I jumping out of a plane today?'
'Yeah'
'Did I also plan to seek out Ryan Gosling's house and slip in via the attic window?'
'Uh, no'
'Damn it, just checking.'

Fast foward to me (Seriously, am thinking the Muffin Man in the sky accidentally leaned on the fast forward button 'cause I don't remember anything from waking to 6 pm) and the 18 yr old offspring (OS) sitting on top of two men in a 3 * 5 plane. I realize that sounds kind of creepy but that's because...well, it is.

(Note: This is also the day that the news was full of the 80 yr old woman that was skydiving almost fell out of her harness.)

OS was behind me so I couldn't see or hear him but I was told later that he didn't say boo.
I on the other hand, as we were flying up to heights only birds and sherpas should go too, couldn't shut my mouth.

'Oh, that's a lovely view. Where perchance would that be?'
'Oh my, this plane has a lot of stickers in it. What would your favorite one be?'
'When did you know you wanted to do this for a living?

Those were the sentences coming out of my mouth, as if I was having tea with the queen instead of in a deathtrap rattling around at over ten thousand feet.
My inner voice was saying something else entirely.

'FUCKITYFUCKFUCKFUCK!WHATIFTHERESALZHEIMERSINTHEFAMILYANDITSUDDENLYFLARESUPINMYTANDEMPARTNER!'

What came out was 'I'm feeling peckish, wouldn't a french macaroon be good right now?'

Go figure.

Time to jump arrives and I'm watching my OS being leaned out of the plane, He was asked if there was any last thing he wanted to say.
(Instills confidence doesn't it?)
'Yes, just one thing.'
He looks at me and I'm starting to well up wondering what I should say in response to his definite sweet final words to his loving mother.
'So what should I do with my mouth, cause if I keep it open any bug will tear me a new asshole in the back of my throat.'
I felt no qualms in my last words to him being
'Shut your mouth, boy'.

I laughed the whole way down.

I have figured out that with offspring like mine every day is like a freefall skydive.
Crazy and exhilerating but don't forget to close your mouth though 'cause no one needs a second asshole!