Anne With an 'E' and Other Things I Did Wrong: a tale in three parts

by - 9:08 PM

There is no moral to this story. There is only this: sometimes I'm stupid. It's unavoidable. Enjoy my foibles. They are my Christmas gift to you.

mistakes I have made

Part One: He called me 'miss'.


It was rather late. The kids and I were coming home from my mother's Christmas concert two towns over. I saw the flashing lights ahead and turned down the radio. "It's a ride program," I told the children.

The first two cops waved me through. The third stopped me and shone his flashlight through my open window. He was young and confident and very romance-novel-cover. "Had any alcohol to drink tonight, miss?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"What? No! I mean no!"

He leaned a little closer, his forearm resting on the lip of the window, so he could smell the Buddy Burger I'd just consumed my breath. "What's in the bag?"

I sheepishly lifted the conspicuous brown paper sack that rested on the emergency brake beside me, suddenly mortified to be busted with my late night A&W snack by a man who would address me as if I was a twenty-year old, not the mother of the sixteen-year old sitting beside me in the front seat. ("I'm just babysitting, officer." wink-wink)

"Okay, have a nice night, miss."

He said it again!

Zander was dying. "Why did you say yes?!"

"I don't know," I moaned.

But that's a lie. I think I did know. Because if someone calls me 'miss', all I hear is, "do you want to run away with me?"

Yes. Yes I do. You just made me feel young and pretty. Please ignore the burger breath and meet me in Tuscany!


Part Two: What's up with the coffee?


It's Writer's Jam Monday. Right now, at this moment, I'm sitting across the table from one of my writing friends. An hour ago, as I was preparing things for the imminent arrival of my jamming crew, I decided I needed a coffee. Because I'm tired. And grumpy. (Probably because I'm not in Tuscany.) So yes, coffee.

I loaded the grinds into the filter and pushed the power button. It made that gurgley 'I'm getting started, keep your pants on' noise, so I thought nothing of it and set the kettle on to boil so we'd have hot water for tea as well.

Ten minutes later. No coffee.

What?

...I forgot to put the water in.

So I added the water and pushed start again.

It made a sound like that time Liam thought he was drowning.

Still no coffee.

...I forgot to close the lid.

I know this isn't a big deal. But it made me mad. And I was already mad at the dentist for heaving on my filling and then saying, "Oh, hey - this filling is loose." And then sending me home with a headache and an appointment to have it redone on the Thursday of THE BUSIEST WEEK OF THE YEAR.

All this to say, I am having my coffee now. But it's gone cold while I ranted here, so yeah...


Part Three: Be chill like Carol.


It's always an exciting day when a new issue of Blank Spaces arrives. There's the fear that leads up to its delivery — what if it doesn't turn out right? what if the pagination is off? what if I made a horrible mistake that will be delivered into the hands of all my trusting readers? GASP! —You see, I don't actually see the magazine before it goes it press. I see grainy prints run off a photocopier, sure, but that's nothing like seeing a full-bleed, perfect-bound, final product. Someday I'll be able to afford that luxury, but right now I'm poor and I have to trust myself that I've done all I can to make it as perfect as I can in the time I have. Whew! Talk about pressure!

Anyway, the December issue arrived, and it was as gorgeous and I hoped it would be. I shared pictures on Instagram and gushed on Twitter and tried to sell some more on Facebook. It wasn't until I was putting together the contributor packages (I send every contributor a complimentary copy and thank you card) that I saw it. GLARING at me from the FRONT COVER.

I'd spelled someone's name wrong.

DEVASTATING!

As I wrote Carol Anne's thank you card, I included something lame like: I just realized I missed the 'E' in Anne. I am mortified. Please accept my deepest apologies.

Because she's the highest standard of human in the world, Carol's sweetheart response was: don't stress.

Don't stress? When I first saw (didn't see?) that missing 'e' my whole body went hot and I wanted to melt into the floor and then I had to go out and buy more deodorant because I was just a sweaty pile of Editor-in-Chief-shame!

She said, "I just don't stress about such things."

Carol, darling, you are my hero. My new goal? Be chill like Carol.

Gracious people are my favourite.



Gracious people who take me to Tuscany where the coffee is always perfect and my name is never Ma'am are divine...


p.s. Foibles is a great word. It almost makes these three brain farts seem charming...almost, but not quite.

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2 comments

  1. I love everything about this post - the candor, the foibles, and how chill Carol is. I’m so glad you’re blogging again! (P.S. Foibles is a great word which is also fun to say. )

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    Replies
    1. Aw...thank you 🙏 It feels good to be blogging again - even if it's silly things like this. I hope I can manage to keep it up. Missed you last night. Maybe the new year will open things up again...🤞

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