Eeek! Where's my phone?

I'm at a dance.  A good friend asks if he can borrow my cell phone.  Usually I hesitate on lending such personal things, because, well, you know -- they're personal. But this is someone I know and trust, so sure, I say, here.

I go back to dancing. Forty minutes later it occurs to me that I haven't seen him in a while.  I look around. No him.

Apparently he's left. With my phone.

With my phone.

I am suddenly struck by how weird it feels to suddenly have my phone, my link with all that I know and depend upon. All my security, my contacts, my information, ripped away from me like an underwater breathing tube.  With me underwater.

I take a few deep breaths, remind myself that it is not, in fact, a panic-worthy situation -- no breathing tube required. I remind myself that I was born into a time when cell phones were still the stuff of science fiction (though we knew they were coming), and tell myself it'll be all right.

And it is all right. I have my darling little device back in my hands in short order.

But I had no idea I was so, well, attached.

Eeek!

Win a free copy of my story

As previously reported on this media channel, Uncle John's Bathroom Reader is publishing my flash fiction story "Biggest Fan! Ever!" in their "Flush Fiction" anthology.  Just released.

In order to promote their anthology, Uncle John (and his pals) are providing one free copy to a fan of my choice.

Power. I'm telling you, it's the ultimate aphrodisiac.

So while I'm inhaling deeply and smiling slightly, you may want to toss your name in the hat.  How?  Simply comment on this post, or any post on this blog ('cause, you know, I can sort on date) by the Ides of April, the 15th -- oh, let's play by tax rules: April 16th.  I will select one fan (and/or commenter -- no need to adopt any label whatsoever) in a vaguely random and slightly unbiased fashion (amuse me, flatter me, make me want chocolate -- oh, wait, that last part's easy). I'll contact you if you're the winner.

I won't blog about you without your permission, this is not a fair contest, prohibited where illegal, no salesman will call, boxtops not needed, and your mileage will vary.

And don't be all whiny if you don't win.  Come on, guys. I have a lot of fans. Three, at least, not counting the cat.

Girl on Girl Action

Or...

What Girls Really Talk About

Until recently I'd never heard of the Bechdel Test, which, simply put, asks two things of a movie: 1) do two or more women 2) talk to each other 3) about something besides a guy?

Seems like sort of a low bar, doesn't it?  I talk to gal-pals all the time about things that don't involve guys. The nature of truth, the beauty of music, the best chocolate, and the damned rain. Cats, dogs, adventure, gardening, life, death -- topics besides boys seem plentiful to me.

And in a movie where you get to write the script yourself, this seems even easier. Think I'll try my hand at it.

Woman one: "Hey, girl!  How's it going?"

Woman two: "Not too bad. Just upgraded to Oneiric Ocelot and my desktop is screwed up, but I'm getting it to behave."

Okay, maybe not so typical But then, I'm a geek. How about this, then:

Woman one: "Hey, girl!  How's it going?"

Woman two: "I think I finally figured out how the multi-verse is elastic across variant deviations. All that meditation is finally paying off!"

Perhaps a touch off the beaten path as well. Try this:

Woman one: "Hey, girl!  How's it going?"

Woman two: "I just scored some Chipotle Taza and it rocks! This is  kick-ass chocolate, gal-pal.  Want some?"

"I'll be right over!"

Two women, no guys. Bechdel pass!