At work, I earn movie tickets in the customer service program. Over the years, I’ve earned quite a few of them. When Nikki (Motley) was younger I always gave her the tickets because like most teens, her friends were always going to the movies. Rott and I rarely went to the movies so it was no loss giving her the tickets. In the last couple of years though, I haven’t given her the tickets and Rott and I acquired a little stash of them. Did I already say that Rott and I don’t usually go to the movies? Well, not when we lived in the Santa Ana-Orange area. Apparently, now that we live in Brea, Rott wants to go to the movies.
A few weeks back we saw the Avengers, which I’d like to see again. And it’s definitely a DVD we’re going to have to buy. This weekend we saw Men in Black 3. Oh, and last week we bought Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows. I wish we’d seen that one in the theater. They blow up a lot more stuff in it than they did in the first one.
Anyway, I juggled a lot of hats this weekend including the one where Rott and I went to the movies. I’m not sure where the idea sprang from but hell if I didn’t starting thinking that being a good multi-tasker is like being a good super hero or movie hero. When the bad guys are coming at you from a dozen different directions and you manage to fend them all off, it’s a lot like juggling a bunch of different things that need doing: send off cover mockup to one author, size and send final cover files to another author, do some website maintenance, update Facebook, send out a few tweets, answer a few emails, fill out a cover art form and send it in, look over edits, look for some cover images, start a new mockup, write a few paragraphs in my WIP because I had an idea, switch back to movie maker to add something I had an idea for there, back to email, then check my phone, back to Photoshop to finish an ad, send off the ad, post the ad graphic, send off an invoice, take a break to read a little and right back to the grind again.
Um, yeah. Super-hero sounds like a good title to me. I wouldn’t look very good in tights though. When I was younger sure, but not now. I might take the cape though or some of Ironman’s gadgets. Yeah, gadgets sounds good! Here’s a look at some of what I did this weekend:
Excerpt from Out of the Pocket:
Opening his eyes, Bryce saw that Joss’s expression had turned sad. He rubbed his thumb over Joss’s down turned lips. “When Evan broke his leg, I knew it was all over. I knew he’d go home to California and somehow he and Reed would end up together. I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to him about it.” He shrugged. “I was scared of being alone again. Afraid to face the emptiness of my future. The façade I’d built to hide the fact that I was just going through the motions cracked wide open and the moment that woman asked about my true love, I lost it. Every emotion that had been held in deep freeze broke free and everything I’d felt the day you walked away from me came rushing back. And I broke all over again.”
He felt his tears spill over once more, unable to stem them, unable to stem the flood of emotions he’d held back for eight years. “The night you left me, I drove back to Atlanta and somewhere before dawn I found myself standing on a bridge in the middle of nowhere off I-75 wishing I had just driven out to the Port of Savannah and chucked myself off the Talmadge Bridge.”
Joss sucked in a breath, the sound sharp and harsh in the subdued quiet of the cabin. Bryce chuckled and the sound seemed rusty and self-deprecating even to his own ears. “Of course, I didn’t have the balls to do such a thing. I couldn’t do anything right except play football and after you left me, I couldn’t even do that right. Two concussions in the next five games all because I couldn’t concentrate. They told me to quit or I’d become a vegetable. Since I was already a zombie, emotionally numb and totally uncaring of my own welfare, I kept playing. Three more games and then Jackson’s hit. I was unconscious for more than a day. Even I couldn’t ignore the doctors when they told me quit or die.”
Hard arms tightened around him until his ribs ached in protest. “My God. How could you have kept playing after they told you to quit the first time?”
“I didn’t care.”
“Jesus Christ, Bryce! You could have died!”
The angry shock in Joss’s voice made Bryce sigh. “When my agent told the world I was quitting because of the concussions, when I came out that same week, I thought you would come back to me. I waited and waited but the phone never rang and you never showed up.” The pain of that horrible waiting time came back to him in an instant. He’d been so full of hope, only to have it crushed as days went by with no contact from Joss. He shivered, hunching his shoulders under the blanket.
He stared into Joss’s remorseful face. “I thought that football meant more to you than I did. Your team was doing well, it would have hurt your career to be with a retired player who had just come out. Even as friends. Whatever hope I still had within me died. And I died right along with it.”
“Holy fuck.” Joss’s soft murmur held complete astonishment. “I didn’t know. When you retired, I was out on the west coast in rehab. I’d fucked up. I was drinking heavily. Not playing well. I got myself arrested, benched, suspended and sent to Betty Ford. They pulled a major intervention on me. I’m surprised you never saw any of that on ESPN or in the papers.”
Yes, it was a busy weekend but my super hero self managed it all and I didn’t exhaust myself either. Of course, that could be because I’ve been drinking freshly juiced oranges from my yard thanks to Z.A. Maxfield who was kind enough and awesome enough to send me a juicer as a gift. It’s kinda weird to walk out to the tree, pick 4 oranges, peel them, stuff them into the juicer and have orange juice. Weird. But really, really good.
Now, it’s time for a Marcus and then off to work!
He looks like he could be a super hero. No matter what they put him in, he looks good! LOL