Sidewalk Pennies

I slacked off really hard since Friday. Work closed early due to some nasty ice and freezing rain that hit a little after noon. (It did start out as very pretty snow, though.) I intended to use the extra five hours of free time to edit. I ended up watching TV and napping with Pippa. So much for that. Saturday I had a birthday party to go to. Sunday after church was busy with me playing Temple Run 2 and cleaning out my beastly old dresser so I could replace it with a smaller, lighter storage cube organizer. During all of this, I was still shaking off a cold. I was off Monday, so I slept in very late because I didn't feel good. I walked the dog, then took a very long nap. Needless to say, I didnt get to the gym or editing. About the only thing I did do was read. I was also off yesterday and felt better, but also got nothing done.

So here I am, woefully behind on editing and everything else. I did edit five pages today. I also got $50.00 from some old ChaCha.com work I did, then went to Amazon Mechanical Turk to take a peek at past earnings from there.

I realized that in the past, I've made some nice pocket change that I can put towards loan payments. I may be a little too ambitious, but anything that can reduce the amount coming directly from my checks every month is welcome. I mean, $50.00 I wasn't expecting is a really awesome blessing. I also found a penny on the sidewalk this morning.

I'm feeling not quite so overwhelmed. I have all my payment stuff planned out. If I can bring in some extra cash from different places, I'd like to slowly pay off this one private loan that has a 10% interest rate. It's not (comparably) a huge loan, but I'd like to get rid of that monster once and for all. My goal is by October.

My car's actually feeling a lot better, too. And my fiance is helping with wedding stuff, because he's awesome.

Maybe I can get some more editing done. It's a little harder now that I've decided to change the perspective, but necessary. I'd like to have the book finished and out by summer, and hopefully before.

Back to work again.

Sentience Part 7

And after quite a hiatus...the seventh part of Sentience.

Sentience Part 1
Sentience Part 2
Sentience Part 3
Sentience Part 4
Sentience Part 5
Sentience Part 6

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Macon watched as Marie dropped her shoulder bag onto the floor beside the couch. "Can I just go ahead and get some sleep now?"

"Sure." He glanced around, feeling awkward, glad the shades were closed. Glad for some reason. "How's your head?"

She sat on the couch and shrugged. "I really won't know until I can find a doctor, but it hurts a lot and I feel sick."

"I'm sorry." He clenched and unclenced one fist. "Would it be alright if did some work right over there in the kitchen? Just in case?"

"I'm not gonna steal anything," the girl replied, her voiced muffled by a pillow.

"No, I meant I don't want to be closed off in a closet if someone were to bust in here."

"Whatever makes you feel better." She let out a huff of air. "Now please let me take a nap."

He started to reply, but thought better of it and stepped away to grab his tablet.

His cell phone buzzed. He gulped, feeling nauseous again, and pulled it out of his pocket, hoping it was the normal use one. The fake cell phone, the mask he used.

He knew when his fingers touched it that the small, plain thing was his oversight. He should have gotten rid of it when he could.

They'd be able to find it just because he had it. That was easy for them. He debated answering and just lying. It might buy them time, but he didn't want to leave Marie here and he most definitely didn't want to meet these people anywhere. Not now.

So he turned the phone off and crushed it under his foot.

He turned on the tablet and sat at the kitchen table, doodling idly. The cartoons he drew were cathartic, and he knew they were decent. Any other time, he'd be working on one. It was long due for an update, he knew, but he had no inspiration. He'd do it later, find some way to put it up, wherever he ran, in defiance of these ruthless people he'd become far to connected to.

He waited as the sliver of light visible between the shades changed and dimmed as the sunlight moved ever on to it's setting point.

Restless didn't even begin to describe it.

Sentience Part 6

It's been a while since I've been able to come back to this story. It is time consuming, but look forward to an installment of "Sentience" every week until it's finished. For your convenience, I've included links to the first five parts of the story. Enjoy.

Sentience Part 1
Sentience Part 2
Sentience Part 3
Sentience Part 4
Sentience Part 5

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He stared, not seeing the windshield, not daring to glance at the thing-woman-beside him. He caught her movements out of the corner of his eye. One hand moved around the opposite wrist in a slow orbit, wrapping a bandage over the newly sealed wound. She spoke.

"Who are your employers?" she asked.

He swallowed hard and told her the name of the company.

"They said they made you," Macon said. "They said you malfunctioned and posed a threat."
She snorted. "They would." She leaned her head against the back of her seat. "I worked for them. I found some documents that I don't think I was supposed to see."

Macon took a deep breath, feeling sick. "I believed them."

Marie rolled her eyes, then winced. "Ow."

"I'm sorry."

She waved a hand. "Don't worry about it...just a headache."

"They'll be looking for you now," he said. "I was supposed to bring your...remains back."

Marie closed her eyes. "That's what I was afraid of." She looked through the tinted back window. "I need to get out of here."

"The car?"

She shook her head. "Off-world, somewhere. Anywhere. Wherever I can go." She laughed bitterly. "Guess I better pack."

Macon looked down at the steering wheel. All he could do was help. Now he was involved. Responsible. "I'll take you to your apartment. If you need somewhere to stay, I've got a couch."

Marie smirked. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said as he started the car again.

--------------

They stared together at the orange glow that had been Marie's apartment building. The other tenants stood outside, milling about, many of them in pajamas and consoling crying children. The flames danced weirdly in the gray morning, the smoke darkening the sky.

Macon flicked on the radio.

"Officials are unsure how the fire began but the origin has been traced to one apartment and thought to be the result of problematic wiring. Fire crews managed to rescue all of the residents but one, Marie Boyette. Her apartment was the origin of the fire. She did not make it out before flames consumed the building."

She switched off the radio. "So...I'm officially dead now."

Macon frowned. "I guess so."

Marie studied her fingernails. "You mentioned a couch I could crash on?"

"Yeah," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Fried Slice: Do I Really Need to Know?

So wedding stuff makes me grumpy. Just a bit.

Don't get me wrong. My own wedding is something I'm excited for. I'm going to get an awesome dress and a great cake and eat good food and marry the man I love. Sweet.

Hmm. Maybe I'm not talking about wedding stuff. Maybe I'm talking about marriage stuff. It's more important. The heart has to be ready, and that really has nothing at all to do with contracts or gum paste flowers or the lighting effects on the dance floor. That fact is pretty obvious, right? So let me back up and explain myself.

My fiance and I have been together for over five years. A good portion of that has consisted of a long-distance relationship. I live in North Carolina, he lives in Missouri. We have long visits. My dog loves him (and that's amazing.) Together, we've made a relationship that has had a lot of love and a few fights. We know we have quirks, because we've seen them up close. We also know that everything's gonna get really real at about 2:00 A.M. sometime in the future when one of us gets a wake-up call via the "icy foot zap." So yeah, I know relationships take work. Five years, remember?

Obviously, being a (reluctant) Twentysomething, I've had a few friends get engaged and married over the years. Yeah, I've only been engaged since January, but that sorta just made it official. I've always sort of known. My man's still in school and I'm paying for the wedding myself. Yeah, it's gonna be a minute. When I see my all friends getting speedily engaged and hitched like little matrimony moon rockets, I cringe a little.

'Cause I know and fear what's coming next.

The SAGELY SAGE ADVICE.

Okay, to be fair, only one person has actually offered THE ADVICE and that was quite some time ago. This individual had known the intended spouse for a few years, they dated for a short while (like very very very very very short) got engaged in the spring of 2010, and were married by the end of summer 2010. A few months later, after I posted my engagement announcement on Facebook, this person ADVISED me that marriage was hard work, but worth it.

Durr.

For me, that was the equivalent of someone informing me in a condescending tone that the invasion of Normandy occurred on June 6th, 1944. But imagine that the teacher or whoever was sharing this advice because I'd shared with them my intention to write my dissertation in pursuit of a doctorate, the subject of said project being the strategies and movements of the U.S. Airborne units during Operation Neptune and an exploration into the assault on Brecourt Manor. At this point, I think it would be pretty clear that I know what I'm talking about and have known for quite some time. Imagine the person with the condescending attitude having just watched the first scene of Saving Private Ryan like five minutes before and that being the first time they'd ever heard of the invasion of Normandy, let alone Operation Neptune or Operation Overlord.

That's sorta what it felt like.

And while that individual has been the only one to offer SAGELY SAGE ADVICE, I still have this reflex of...something, every time. There is joy for my friends, because finding the one person who is literally your other half is awesome. What I don't welcome is the advice that has the possibility of coming.

If you've just seen a clip of a film that features a few bloody minutes on one beach in Normandy, and that's all you know, as much as it has touched you and changed you, you cannot give me a full-on lecture about leg bags and the problems therewith. You can't tell me merely about the existence of Operation Market-Garden. I already know, and I've known a lot longer than you.

I don't hate advice, and I don't hate learning. Most people are like that. Because of the time I've invested in a long-distance relationship, just as if I'd dedicated my life to studying the details in World War II, I know stuff that others don't yet. I know what it's like to be hurt. I know what it's like to argue. Heck, I know how to fight dirty. But I also know how to love, how to forgive, and how to savor moments, even when the theater's heater is broken and it's 20 degrees Fahrenheit outside and somewhere in the 50-60 range inside.

This doesn't make me any better than the ADVICE offerer I mentioned earlier. But I do have the distinct advantage of time and patience and sadness and fights and near-breakups and forgiveness and love and joy and laughter.

In a word, life.

A better teacher by far than all the ADVICE I could ever get.

Sentience Part 5

Links to the previous installments:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

And here, for your enjoyment, Part 5 of Sentience.

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He kept driving, staring ahead. The passenger stared straight ahead as well.

Frederick failed to see the fist flying at him before his jaw exploded in pain. He pulled the steering wheel back as the car swerved to the left.
The android was staring at him.

"What was that for?" he asked it calmly.

"I was sort of hoping you'd crash."

Expected. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, so maybe I could get some help because I've been taken against my will and I probably will have a concussion later because you no doubt watch too many movies."

Frederick rubbed his jaw gingerly, flexing it slowly. "How do I deactivate you?'

"What?"

"I need to deactivate you. It's more humane. That's all I can give you."

"I wasn't aware I could be deactivated." The robot rubbed its face. Frederick felt sad.

"You're one of those, then."

"One of what?"

"Those machines who don't know they're machines."

There was a long silence. It stared at him incredulously, then spoke.

"Yeah, you definitely watch too much media. I think it's addled your brain."

"But you're a machine."

"And where did you hear that rumor?"

Frederick kept driving, deeper into the desert. "My...clients. They created you and hired me to retrieve you and bring you back to them or eliminate you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

She--it--fished in the bag on the floorboard feet and pulled a rather large knife from it, setting the blade to its wrist.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"Showing you that you're a gullible idiot." It pressed down.

"No, don't-" Frederick looked away as a tiny spurt of blood hit the windshield. Marie clapped a hand over the wound.

"Do you have a first aid kit?"

Frederick nodded, fighting back nausea. "In the glove box."

Marie opened the kit and pulled out a miniature fluid analysis machine. A drop and a smear of blood went in, and the machine beeped a few moments later, the results showing in bold, bright letters.

Frederick glanced at the screen.

BLOOD. Type: A+. Glucose Level: 93. More data he couldn't see.

That was his machine. It wasn't tampered with, couldn't be. He pulled over.

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That's all for today, and thanks for tuning in. Stop by soon for more.