Reading: latest issues of Locus, Chronicle, and Writers Digest
Music: Herbie Mann's "Push, Push"
TV/Movie: Lion King 1 1/2
Link o' the Day: two webcams set up in Nome, Alaska

Info an the Fiction Writers APA can be found in February 26th's entry.
* * *
It's been a pretty productive weekend, and a pretty relaxing weekend--all at the same time. Pretty Maggie ended up not going out of town, so we got to have our us time. We spent a good portion of yesterday cleaning house, which was in sore need of it.

I went to the doctor's on Friday for a full examination. I've not been to a doctor for something like that in about a quarter of a century. I was a bit surprised by the whole thing. Granted, my memories of being poked and prodded as a child are somewhat dim, but even exagerated memories couldn't compare to the actual poking and prodding I endured on Friday. We're a long way off from some Star Trek medscanner shaped like a Swedish salt shaker. The doctor poked, prodded, hit, punched, squeezed, laid-hands upon, and crottled every inch of me. She put her fingers under my ribs so she could feel my liver move. shudder She performed a testicular exam which proved to be the least erotic experience of my life.

But in the end, I was pronounced "stinkin' healthy." In truth, I think she was disappointed. I'm overweight, I smoke, and I put my body through at least a decade of abuse some years ago. I admit, I was waiting for the pronouncement of doom--but imagine our surprise when it turned out that I really am indestructible. Even my blood pressure was spot on.

Of course she couldn't let it go at that. She still gave me a "program" which included smoking cessation (which is fine--I want to quit anyway), an EKG ("to have on file," she said), and an order for labwork ("give us your blood and urine," she said with a ghoulish grin).

You just can't please some people.

* * *
I had another one of those ideas in the shower. Unlike my "Attack of the 50 Foot Savior" monstrosity, this was an idea that was less sacreligious, and more practical as far as producing. As soon as I emerged from the shower, I scrambled for pen and paper so I wouldn't forget my idea before morning.

Sunday morning, I sat down and in one setting wrote "Crottled Greeps," a story which will be making the rounds within the next day or so.

Go, me!

* * *
Yet despite all, the weekend passed much too quickly. Sure, there were some relaxing moments, but all in all, I'd rather be back in bed right now. This week should fly by pretty quickly. Pretty Maggie and I set out for Cleveland next weekend for a couple of days. Ten hour drive to, and ten hours back--at least. But it should be a good time.

* * *
Today's link goes to a page with two webcams set up in Nome, Alaska. A good friend of mine lives up that way, and I get a kick out of looking at this bustling town way up there via the magic of technology. The cam is extra fun during Iditarod time.

Cheers!