Correction: further info reveals the person kidnapped was NOT from our office. She is someone I know, however. And unfortunately, she’s still being held. Lawlessness is the order of the day in Haiti. No police force. This is the reality.
Hope everyone’s Thanksgiving was good. I actually had time, between burning dinner and trying to catch up on chores, to read. Marilyn Pappano’s “A season of miracles.” Wonderful, heartwarming book. I tried writing this weekend. Managed to edit some pages. Read over the chapters I had written for Rashid’s story and realized I needed some light humor in the second, so rewrote it. I like the results. He loses his virginity in the first chapter. Sex in the first chapter! I never do this, yet he told me “Ok, I must have sex now. Right now.” So I wrote it that way. And I love how it turned out.
I’m slowly wigging out because I have two weeks to prepare for Christmas as I’ll be in Haiti the whole week before the holiday. Our house is not decorated, and I have no shopping done, no gifts sent. Every year I try to bake cookies. (Note to self: Alert fire department when the baking mood strikes.) Every time I try to bake cookies, they burn. I’m surprised Santa hasn’t sued me for all those years I gave him gas from the lumpy, burnt cookies I left trying to bribe him for a Barbie doll.
And there’s something I must admit. I harbor a secret desire to roast the Pillsbury Dough Boy. He irritates the heck out of me. He’s too perky. I want to take the fat little nancy dough boy, stuff him into the oven, turn it up to 800 degrees and watch him explode. I never feel this way about the Keebler elf. It’s just Dough Boy’s asinine giggle that irks me. Or maybe it’s merely the Christmas stress.