I know what I said. I know what I wanted to do. And I know what happened. But really: it’s not my fault.
Last night was Phone Bank night where I head down to the Pennsylvania Democratic Party headquarter and do my “get out the vote” thing. Last night I did almost three hours of calls across fourteen sheets of paper with sixteen names on each page. As you can tell that’s a lot of calls. Most are people who let their phones go right to voice mail, but I’m still calling, still trying to get through. And fortunately for me, I’ve yet to call anyone who’s a supporter of the Orange Dumpster Fire, but I figure the odds are I’ll get at least one at some point during October.
Now, we don’t always yack away on phones like robots. We do talk to people and I’ve had some good phone conversations. We also talk among ourselves as well because, well, there is a bit of stress involved in what we’re doing, and there are a lot of busy people there. And trust me, last night was hopping, with close to a dozen of us calling and maybe another six to nine people entering data into the system to keep the rolls up to date.
So, on the personal side, what happened last night–well, there were two things. First, one of the organizers in the office asked me about my nose piercing and said she wanted to get one of her own, so I not only told her she should get one from the same place I did, but I’d go with her and hold her hand. So next Sunday is Nose Piercing Day, and once that happens there will be three of us in the DNP/HRC office with those.
And second, there were three of use women sitting at the same table and we did take some time to sit and chat from time-to-time. The woman sitting across from me said she loved my passion and that I was the sort of person who should be a part of her organization, which is the Central Pennsylvania Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce. She told me I should come to one of their mixers and get a feel for it, and I took that to mean she felt I should join. So… I’ll probably contact her tomorrow to get more info.
All and all it looks like I’m making some good connections while helping get someone elected at the same time.
What this means is that I had a limited amount of time to actually feel the worlds flowing and write. It’s not much, but here’s what happened after Kerry made his Annie Admission.
(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)
He didn’t even pause. “She’s my girlfriend, Mom.”
Louise regarded her son for a few moments. “You have a girlfriend.”
“Yes, I do.”
“And how long has this been going on?”
Kerry considered stretching the truth a little before deciding to be as honest about his relationship as he was about his magic. “Since the start of our A Levels. You could say we connected in London before going to Amsterdam, and by the time we reached he school—” He smiled. “We’ve been together since.”
Louise pressed her fingers into her forehead while muttering in a lot voice. “I don’t believe this.” She looked up and sighed. “Let me guess: if your letter writing is any indication you’re both deeply in love.”
Kerry turned on a half-smile. “How did you know?”
“You cannot be serious.” His mother was becoming more animated as spoke. “You’re thirteen.”
“So?” Her nostrils flared twice. “You don’t have the emotional maturity to understand something like love. And I doubt that Annie does, either.”
Kerry wanted to scream out that they understood completely, that there was so much more to their relationship than simply holding hands and cuddling, But to do so would be to ask his mother to believe too much, and at the moment she wasn’t ready. “Annie knows; so do I. I mean, we’re taught Morte spells and the school feels we’re mature enough to control and use them, so why wouldn’t we be mature enough to understand real love?” He shook his head. “Geez, Mom: come on.”
Louise is all upset: first her son is a witch, then he knows death spells–and now, horror of horrors, he’s got a girlfriend. One of those female types who are soft and have long hair and big, batty eyes–and, well, Louise knows what else they have.
So you can pretty much expect the next question coming from her…