Electrocution IS pretty bad

I graduated from college without ever taking any English or math of any kind. Zero. Freshman English? Nope. Calculus, zip. No American Heritage either, which was a required GE credit. In fact, my bachelor's degree in International Relations may be technically phony due to a beneficent grade advanced to me by a certain anthropology professor. You see, I was due to turn in the write-up of my field notes from a study excursion in Namibia, and this professor agreed to let me turn them in post-graduation, promising that when I did he would change my grade from an expectant C to a satisfied A. It's been 8 years, and I'm not making a lot of progress on said field notes. I think about it once in a while, and I believe in following through with what you commit to do, so maybe one of these days, I'll resume the tedious transcription of the dusty tapes buried in a box in the garage that every so often I have to rescue from the garbage pile when my husband decides to spring clean. The word is still out on whether I actually needed the credits from that anthropology class for the required number of credits to graduate. I think I'm good.

So I never took any creative writing classes. This isn't an apology so much as an explanation. I tell stories in an abrupt fashion, as if not to undersestimate the listener's ability to grasp my meaning. When I was 16 I won tickets from the radio to a screening of So I Married An Axe Murderer. You may remember the scene where Charlie and Harriet go out with their friend Tony and his date. They are sharing "there's nothing worse than" scenarios and when it's the date's turn, she says "being electrocuted." They look at her, expecting more, and that's it. That's all she had. And I SO related! That's how I tell stories. Really horribly, with little elaboration.

So enjoy. And leave all the comments you care to eat. It's a super-buffet of dialogue.