Bertie Cox

I've always said I'm going to write a book someday. And since it seems I have nothing optimistic to say in this blog lately (and I know how annoying it is to listen to someone complain constantly), I thought I start putting down some of the stuff floating around in my head. 

I don't have a plot for this book yet, but I have some ideas for characters. I know the main character will surely end up somewhat autobiographical as you've got to write what you know. So she'll probably work in publishing or marketing or event planning and will come into contact with some of the nutty people I'm thinking of for supporting characters -- one of whom is tentatively being called Bertie Cox. 

Here's how Bertie Cox and our heroine will first meet in person...

Our heroine will be in coastal city -- usually warm but breezy, but is having an unusual hot and humid streak -- for a big event of some kind. Our heroine works for a vendor of some sorts - a PR company or an event-planning related company and Bertie Cox works for the client having the big event. 

Our heroine is at the event site overseeing some set-up the day before when her phone rings...

"Hello, this is our heroine."

"Heroine!" Bertie shouts, gasping for breath. "It's Bertie Cox. Are you still there? My plane is late and I've just landed so wanted to call you so you didn't leave. How long will you be there? I want to meet you."

Heavy breathing from Bertie.

"It's no problem, Bertie," our heroine says calmly. "We can just meet in the morning so you don't have to rush."

"No! I want to meet you today. Don't leave! Wait for me!"

"OK, Bertie. We'll be here."

40 minutes later our heroine's phone rings again -- flashing Bertie Cox in the display. Our heroine sighs and answers the phone...

"This is our heroine."

"It's Bertie Cox!" she shouts, still breathless and panting. "Are you still there? I'm almost to the event site. I wanted to make sure you didn't leave."

"No, Bertie, we're here."

"Good. Good. The cab's dropping me off now. I'll be there ASAP."

Several minutes later our heroine looks up startled as a women comes rushing in the door to the ballroom--clearly panting and out of breath. She's in her mid-fifties and carrying a large purse and camera bag over one shoulder and a computer bag hangs from the other. She's dragging a large rolling suitcase behind her, and it's wobbling back and forth. 

Bertie makes it 10 feet or so into the room and let's out an audible sigh as she releases all the luggage in a pile around her. She then begins walking as briskly as her short legs will carry her across the ballroom to where our heroine stands trying to not look dumbfounded. As Bertie approaches, she takes her right hand and swipes it across her sweaty brow and then extends it in front of her and shouts, "Hello, I'm Bertie Cox!"

With no choice put to shake the woman's sweaty hand our heroine reaches out and takes it. Our heroine -- with natural height and high heels -- towers over Bertie, who stands barely more than 5-feet tall.

She's wearing an ensemble in varying shades of faded brown. Her sweater, which is clearly not needed in the heat, his hanging most of the way off -- only covering her lower arms and back. Under the sweater, she's wearing a light brown, short-sleeved blouse with frilly ruffles down the front. Every few minutes she reaches inside the blouse to pull up her bra straps, which keep falling down to her elbows. First left, then right. 

Sweat is dripping down her face and her hair -- clearly not helped by the humidity -- frizzes out at odd angles except where it's plastered with sweat to her neck and forehead. 

That's what I've got for now... more later.

Copyright Jan. 6, 2009

Erin Johnson Jungmeyer

 

Happy New Year?

Well... it's officially back to work for me after a break for the holidays. The holidays went as well as can be expected considering it was the first without my dad, but we were a little somber. 

On Tyler's birthday (aka Christmas Eve), Lance and I picked up mom and we joined Tyler at his apartment for pizza and some Rock Band. We had fun even though mom refused to sing. I, however, enjoyed having the microphone as it's the only time anyone's ever encouraged me to sing. 

On Christmas day, we saw Lance's family in the morning and went to my mom's in the afternoon. Lance got lucky at Monopoly and his Free Parking winnings squashed the rest of us. 

On New Year's Eve, my sister and her family came to town. Lance and I had a fabulous dinner at Pierponts with Cyrilla, Al and my mom plus some friends of the family. Then we joined Stephanie and Phil at the Hyatt for the New Year's Party. We said good riddance to 2008 and took joy in the fact that the worst year of our lives was finally over. 

However, just a few days later mom would be hit with more crap when the water line to her icemaker came apart filling her house with water for four hours or so. For those of you who don't know, this is the fourth flood (and worst yet) she's had in the past six months or so. 

I guess '09 will not be all sunshine and roses, but I'm still hopeful that it won't be all bad either. I'll put up some holiday photos ASAP. 

Something worth writing about

... in my opinion anyway. 

This is my praise for my Toyota Prius and it's potentially life-saving and definitely accident-preventing electronic stability control. This also is a real-life account of the existence of so-called black ice, which frankly, ought to be called invisible ice.

Earlier this week, I was making my way home on what appeared to be a clear highway -- though I was traveling a cautious 50 mph give or take. As the center car in a line of five (and the only non-SUV or truck), I was the only vehicle to NOT end up flying into the center median thanks to my electronic stability control, which kept me straight as an arrow while the cars around me spun like tops. 

If your next car has no other options, make sure it has ESC. Here's a dumbed down version of this complex system courtesy of wikipedia.

Electronic Stability Control

New game...

Since I seem to be suffering writer's block, and couldn't think of a single thing worth saying today, I've put a game on the site instead -- scroll down. 

Attempt this fun puzzle if you dare and post your time in the comments for this post. We'll see which of my friends is the fastest...

Just when you think you're OK

As anyone even remotely close to me knows, the past six months have been the worst of my life. Incredibly busy May; terrible, rotten, disastrous June; depressed, stressed and sleep-deprived July, August, September, and October.

The past week or so though I've been thinking that maybe things were starting to get a little better -- far from that new normal everyone talks about, I'm sure -- but maybe a little less awful. Hope and optimism were returning to my vocabulary.

Then I went to Walgreens. My father-in-law had a birthday more than a month ago, but in all this craziness we haven't seen him in that time. We're seeing him this weekend and I needed a card to go with his gift (which, I might add, we haven't bought).

My dad also had a birthday recently -- about two weeks ago. He would have been 58.

So there I am. Standing in front of the Dad cards, and I see them. The "dad from daughter" cards. I'll never buy one of those cards again, but I read every single one of them. Standing there in Walgreens. And once the tears come, they are hard to stop.

I don't cry everyday now. In fact, I am probably tear free more days than not. But when the crying jags start, it's like getting the hiccups. It'll happen repeatedly throughout the day.

I know I should be thankful that I have a father-in-law even if I no longer have a dad. I do love my father-in-law, and he's always been wonderful to me. But he actually makes this losing my dad stuff harder. It's not his fault. It's just his being there. It's a reminder that my dad is not.

Smoking sky chair

I witnessed a weird phenomenon this morning. Following a couple days of cool, wet weather, the sun came up this morning and was shining straight down on Lance's sky chair. You could see the water in the chair turning to vapor. It was kind of cool.

It's not too late

... to make plans to attend Winfield (aka the Walnut Valley Festival). It's just two weeks away, but there's still plenty of time to clear your plans for that weekend and dig out the camping gear.

Lance and I will be there by afternoon/evening beginning Saturday, Sept. 13. We'll head home on Sunday, Sept. 21. Friends and family are welcome to come camp with us anytime in that window.