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Vermont Part Three: What Got Eaten (including My Dignity, Some Other Wayward Travelers, and My Sacred Paper Calendar)

Can someone get this monkey on a milk carton? STAT!

I am HOME, at last, at last, only to find that my Sacred Paper Calendar has been EATEN by Boggarts. Not my awful cat, although I would not put it past him, but by real actual Irish house Boggarts.

Do you understand that if it is not on my Sacred Paper Calendar, I do not show up for it? Do you understand that without my Sacred Paper Calendar, I will not show up for anything, at all, ever, not ONE thing, that I have agreed to do in 2011? I will not make scheduled phone calls, lunch dates, writing deadlines, speaking engagements, weddings, funerals, protests in which I have committed to chain myself to endangered wildlifes, fiestas, scheduled bear maulings, museum openings, fish spawnings, doctor’s appointments, ritual fertility sacrifices to ensure a good crop, or even the book launch brunches of my dearest friends?

In short, without the SPC, I will SIT IN MY HOUSE in PAJAMAS writing books that I never turn in because I can’t remember the due date, scratch fecklessly at my hindquarters and wondering vaguely if I am SUPPOSED TO BE SOMEWHERE.

I am fraught with horror and disbelief. It cannot be. The SPC must be found. And yet, we have wrenched the house from its foundation and turned it upside down and shaken it, releasing a thousand packets of stale gum, the most-favored fantasy pants that went missing in 1997, and a few withered bones of the enemies I buried in the soft ground beneath the eaves, but no calendar. NO CALENDAR.

I am trying to not think about it. I came in here to distract myself by telling you about Why I Hate JFK Airport Forever while heroic Scott, finder of all lost things, scours the house for the umpty-seventh time. But it is not working. I need to be rending closets and computer desks in twain, seeking the SPC and my sanity.

NOTE: A Pink Sock Story, for those in the comments who have come late to FTK, is when I start a story and run out of time and promise to tell the rest LATER. Once, and only once, yes, ONE TIME, one tiny little time, I started a story about Pink Socks, got distracted by shiny things, and forgot why I was telling that story or what had happened. It seemed to me, in retrospect, that I had gone to the Silver Comet Trail and skated while wearing pink socks. Which…it doesn’t really sing, you know? No dramatic tension. No GOAL.

I came, I saw, I skated (in pink socks). The end.

But my old time Best Beloveds have memories like legendary elephants, and I am aggrieved to report that what they remember is the ONE LOST SOCK STORY, and not the legions and hordes and swarms of times I said, “I have to finish this later,” and then came back and FINSIHED IT LATER. My beloveds are like wronged wives, who NEVER remember the thousand times I said NO to the truck stop hookers, but keep harping back to the ONE time that video was briefly posted on You Tube, the one where I was cavorting in a squirrel suit at a orgiastic bacchanalia in the seediest bit of Palm Springs. *martyred sigh*

SO ANYWAY. I am now pretty much out of time. I HAVE to go tear up the carpet and seek my calendar among the floorboards. I will have to tell you what happened at JFK airport tomorrow. *beatific smile*

11 comments to Vermont Part Three: What Got Eaten (including My Dignity, Some Other Wayward Travelers, and My Sacred Paper Calendar)

  • Anna

    You could channel Rose and say a prayer to Saint Anthony, patron saint of lost things. It always, always worked for me! Hope you find it!!

  • midj

    I second Anna. Believers and non-believers alike get results… “St Anthony, St Anthony, please come around, something is lost and needs to be found.” Works every.stinking.time!

  • Hmmmm. Missing pink-sock story… Missing sock-monkey calendar… Coincidence? I think not.

  • Jill W.

    Did you check your sock drawer?

  • Dani

    In case the SPC doesn’t show up soon (but it will show up, it will, it will!), don’t forget that you are scheduled to come have lunch with me and tell me all your writing secrets and all the details of the next book before it releases and just be my bee-eff-eff! Really, you are! It was on the calendar, I’m SURE! Tomorrow at noon, I think?! (But really, I hope the calendar turns up very soon!)

  • Check the freezer a la Vanessa Huxtable’s lost paper on “The Cosby Show” circa late-ish 1980’s. And yes. . .we do hold you to that ONE LITTLE TIME. . .but OH the creativity is spawned.

  • gilly

    this is strange and weird but my mother was told this by wandering gypsy’s who befriended the leprechauns and the unicorns and danced under the golden harvest moon ( or something ).
    If you place a glass upside down on the floor thinking about what you have lost, it will be found.
    I actually have seen it work!

  • Brigitte

    I find that skinny paper-things like calendars often slip behind bookshelves and desks and whatnot, but do not actually slide all the way down to the floor. They just lurk halfway up, sniggering. But if your calendar never does turn up, it is a sign that the year of 2011 is intended to be a sabbatical for you. 😉

  • LaurieB

    Since you got me hooked on w00t, I think it’s only fair to point out the *NEW* 2011 w00t calendar is on sale today on sellout.woot for only .99c!!!! What a deal, 365 days for only .99c (plus $5 shipping, still 365… what a deal) Hope you’re doing ok in the icy south. I’m in Sandy Springs and totally iced in.

  • Michelle-who-is-Shelley

    Things lost in the house that you KNOW must still be in the house somewhere but can’t find are the #1 cause of mental illness. I’m sure of it.

  • JMixx

    And you never take us anywhere.