Hey folks!

I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel…aka the editorial piece I’ve been working on is in my editor’s hands. I guess some people forget that I’m a ‘real’ writer.

Whatever…its play time!

Last week I missed my train heading from NYC which was fine; it gave Olga and I time to catch up. Okay, chatted it up in the train station like a couple of hens. Finally my train arrived and it’s packed! I, in my usual patient manner, launched into a full blown rant with Olga giggling in my ear as I staggered my way to a vacant seat and collapsed.

Olga, still giggling, pointed out what’s becoming a widely held truth: When I’m pissed, I revert to my British lingo. Toss out the American speak; toss in bullocks, rubbish, bloody, fuckin’ell, and lazy sod. I draw the line at ‘arse’. She’s not the first person to notice—I catch myself all of the time.

Growing up, we used to tease my mom for speaking German when she was upset, and now we stop Eva from speaking French when she can’t find the proper English term. I guess Brit verbiage is my crutch.

I’m beginning to think this is a trait of polyglots because Momma Ames floats between English and Dutch when talking to Greg. It’s like our brains, tongues, and thoughts are battling one another for dominance!

Anyway, I’ve pledged to rid myself of this useless crutch by the end of the year. So there! Giggle all you want, Olga!






The editorial piece I’ve written is on plagiarism. While researching, I found this post written by Hyperdole...aka Allie which clearly illustrates the stages of emotions one goes through when their work is lifted. Click her name and read her account. Seriously, the girl has problems, LOL! To find Allie's current drawings, click here. Enjoy!
 




Cheers…I mean goodbye. Fuck!