WHAT???? Port Charles canceled????

You know, I have noticed that the soap is not doing as well as it has in the past. And one of the original fans, I am getting a little sick of the vampire thing. But canceled? I can’t believe it. There are some really interesting characters on this soap. Are they going to go to General Hospital? How are they going to work in the vampires, hmmm?

I don’t know. I’m going to miss a lot of these actors. Somehow I can’t see “Lucy” on Y&R!

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The sun is shining, I had a wonderful nights sleep for a change, the sun is shining (yes, it bears repeating!).

I’m going to get the kids ready and get the hell out of here… Maybe hit a park or something, but we definitely have to return some stuff to the library. Hopefully we can find a park that isn’t too wet.

Last night I made the most delicious dinner… Recipe below for those that are interested.
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I think we might actually have more than a 12 hour reprieve from the rain. It was pretty nice today and the forecast is good for tomorrow too!

Also, I spent the better part of the last three days trying to fix the damn satellite and I think I finally got it. Yay me!

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So… Did you watch it??? Spoilers in the extended entry portion…

I went food shopping tonight and bought some great stuff. We’re off the carbs again but I always make the most incredible meals when we give up carbs… You see, carbs are easy. Meals are easy to make when you have a rice, a cous-cous, a potato. You have to get more imaginative when you’re not having those side dishes.

Tomorrow night we’re having tuna steaks. I’m going to make foil pouches… A tuna steak, scallion, Chinese mustard – fold up the foil and bake. A little side of wasabi and a cucumber salad… Yum, right?

But I must say, if it doesn’t stop raining soon I don’t know what I’m going to do and I can’t be held responsible for my actions when there’s no sunshine.
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Yet I don’t give it the attention that it demands.

When I read something that’s good… deep, heart-wrenching, soul-shaking good; it makes me ache to write. But when I sit down with the pen and the notebook something happens… or doesn’t. I get close to the truth and I stop. I get to the meat of who I am and what I want to say and it terrifies me. It’s automatic-not something I think about, just something I do.

“Someone might see you”, the voice in my ear says, “someone will figure out who you are”. That thought sends me scurrying from the page.

I’ve been doing “writing practice” for years. I’ve taken writing classes, attended workshops, gotten some promising reviews and encouragement on assignments from writers I respect, people I enjoyed reading. The workshop ends and somehow I never get around to finishing the story.

I don’t think I’ve ever really looked at why, I mean really looked at why. It’s fear… no terror.
I am afraid of the story.

Of course it’s no secret to anyone who knows me, even barely, that I haven’t had an easy time of it, but I think it might make for a compelling story. As a matter of fact, I come from a family, generation after generation, of women who haven’t had an easy time of it. I think that they all have a story to tell and I’d like to be the one who writes it down. (Think the “Mayfair Witches” meet “The Thorn Birds” tossed around with “Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood). But the story doesn’t only belong to me, it belongs to all the women in my family and I’m sure each one of us would tell it differently, very differently.

So assuming for a moment that I ever finish it and by some miracle it gets published, there are the people who will recognize it and disagree with my interpretation. Ok fine, I can deal with that. I’ve dealt with their wrath before and come away bruised and battered but still standing. That’s not what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of the story itself. The raw truth of who I am and where I come from.

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