The Mystery of the Puffy Envelope

On Monday, I was lackadaisically making my way to my critique group. Sneering at the screeching spider monkeys passing as children in our neighborhood. I stopped at the mailbox, hoping for an Entertainment Weekly or a Time, when what should I find?

Oh...only a puffy manila envelope, and everyone knows those are the best kind. Since I was driving, I just put it in the seat next to me, a thin layer of sweat crept onto my brow. I wondered. Wondered what the hell was inside.

Was it the Comic-Con swag Joe had promised to send?

No. No.

Too light, plus how could it be here so soon, it's only been a couple of weeks since it ended. It takes the ponies a little bit longer than that to gallop all the way to Washington. No hurry.

After bracing it with a shaky palm at each turn and stoplight, like a favorite child, I squealed into the coffee shop parking lot and tore that bad boy open. I nearly fainted. I couldn't be seeing straight.

Or could I?


What was that peeking out at me. Crowning, if you will?


Oh...


Only this...


Daddy's little girl, all growed up. It wasn't what I expected, but I love it more and more everyday. (I'll love it even more once all the blurbs come in and those are set)

And before you ask, Yes! That is her pimp cup!

*honorable mention for those who find the secret message hidden in this post!

Comments

Eli Edmundson said…
That's great, congratulations!
Mark said…
Hey thanks. Your food blog is great, btw.
Joe said…
That's a beautiful thing. Not as beautiful as the reason why you haven't received your Comic Con swag...now that's REALLY beautiful. The reason, I mean. And it's so freakin' beautiful that if I were to try to encapsulate it here, it would blind us all with its wonderous rays. Which is to say, the package is on its way, really, this time.

La-la-la.

I've got lots of excuses, honest. But none of them have anything to do with your awesome cover. And I'm not going to distract the thread by tossing them out now.
December/Stacia said…
Hmm, you seem to be dropping some very pregnant hints. Maybe if I'm lucky they'll fertilize and grow in my fecund brain and in time, something will come of them.

Just thinking.
Mark said…
Stace, you and Joe both ran with that crowning bit like amateurs. Shame. On this blog you can rest assured that any reference to "crowning" is likely a thinly veiled poop joke!

Luckily, tmthomas, star of stage and screen*, has come to your rescue.



* I'm unsure of the validity of this statement, although it could be entirely accurate. Who's to say?