Skip to main content

Writing a Love Scene in the Time of Climate Change

That's my man muse right there. We haven't seen each other since yesterday morning (it feels so much longer, though!) because the progeny and I have been power outage refugees at my parents' house for the past 24 hours. (I earned the right to be a giant baby about this a few years ago, during the Icepocalypse of 2013/14.)

I tried to tough it out at home. There's something invigorating about weathering a storm, emptying out the fridge and stashing the food in the cold garage, stoking a raging fire in the woodstove, piling on furs and holding each other close to stay warm, lighting our home with lovely beeswax candles, and pausing to watch through the living room picture window as the big, old trees of the neighborhood bend and cast off torrents of stubborn dead leaves and broken limbs--listening to the howl and shriek of a windstorm fiercer than any ever before witnessed by a living inhabitant of the Great Lakes region--

And then your daughter starts puking up the very questionable macaroni and cheese from the mall food court, where you went slumming for a hot meal because cooking on the woodstove is easier said than done, and all other restaurants were shut down--but even in a friggin' apocalypse, the mall is half dead, and the macaroni has been sitting out all day, and you wanted to think it would be okay, but it obviously was not, and now you cannot even do laundry unless it is by hand in the bathtub, but your poor, sick child has made a nest of towels in the bathtub because the violence of her illness has made it overtiring to run the seven steps from bed to toilet, and she is curled up there, shivering, because the house is only 60 degrees despite your toiling for hours before sunrise to build a big, hot fire--

Okay, I'm admitting my addiction to the juice. I don't even go camping. Who am I kidding?

Before the mall pasta wreaked its revenge, I actually bundled up in an antique rocking chair with the picture window on one side and shelves of elegantly dripping candles on the other, trying to draft a more satisfying last chapter for my novel, longhand, in a notebook. It sounds incredibly romantic, no?

I have no idea what I wrote. I haven't looked at it yet. My hands were cold, and I only made it to the end of one page. I was sad and lonesome for my husband, as if I'd been in solitary confinement in outer space for a month instead of going through coffee and internet withdrawal for 24 hours in a hygge-stuffed suburban house.

Our power is back on now--hooray, worker dudes pulling all-nighters to do hard, dangerous things!--my phone is charged, my husband is sexting me, and I have written my Friday blog post.

Tomorrow, I'll take a look at that notebook and discover what steamy prose arose from my unplugged, windy pining.


Popular posts from this blog

A Bad Romance Starring Till Lindemann, Sophia Thomalla, Gavin Rossdale, Simone Thomalla, Sven Martinek, Andy LaPlegua, and Leila Lowfire

To misquote Gaga, "I don't speak German, but I can look at foreign tabloids and guess what's going on if you like."

I guess it would be more professional and ladylike for me to be above this sordid celebrity gossip, but I'm not. I'm so not.

So let's see if I've got this straight. From what I gather...

Metalgod Till Lindemann, 54, and model Sophia Thomalla, 27 (upper left) recently exited a five-year, on-off, opennish relationship, which began when Sophia's actress mother Simone (upper right, in the center) and Simone's then-lover (between her marriages to nubile young athletes) actor Sven Martinek (lower left, in the center), who is famous for his lead role in German TV show Der Clown (lower right) thought it would be cute to set Sophia up with their pal Till. Apparently, the 22-year-old Sophia was not repulsed at her parental figures setting her up with a drinking buddy significantly older than her mom, which absolutely makes sense when the d…

Ich Liebe Rammstein: Richard

Richard Z. Kruspe
Richard Zven Kruspe is Rammstein's founding father, lead guitarist, and natural frontman. He's gregarious, well-spoken in both German and English, a professional showman, and an enthusiastic promoter for the band. In German, his name is pronounced "REE-kard," and in Germanglish, "Reeshard," or "Reesh" for short. Richard is sexy, and he knows it. To many Rammstein fans, he is the cuuuuuuute one. His Facebook page would have you believe it.

Legend has it that Richard has a lovechild with lead singer Till Lindeman. The myth is based in complicated facts and figures, including one unconventional love triangle. Circa 1990, Richard and Till were in a band together (along with future Rammstein rhythm guitarist Paul Landers) with the cheeky name First Arsch. Till, the drummer, was a single father of a little girl at the time, the issue of a short-lived, youthful shotgun wedding--to Richard's current girlfriend. When "Mrs. Lindem…

Ich Liebe Rammstein: Till

UPDATE: After purging his sillies on the side project LINDEMANN and participating in another Rammstein documentary video, Till has begun work on a seventh Rammstein album, estimated to be released in 2017. 

October 2017 is the release date of a NatGeo photo book of Till's travels in the Yukon with Joey Kelly: Mein Gehasster Freund Yukon

Yukon Ho!

For fresh squeezed gossip juice, here's a bad (as in so good) romance. Till Lindemann
Till Lindemann is the only living human who could kick Chuck Norris's ass, but he doesn't, because they go on emo hunting trips together. The source of this fact, Urban Dictionary, also provides the following essential details: "Till Lindemann is the anthropomorphic personification of pure masculinity who invented the often-lethal dance move: The Till Hammer..." "He challenges the definition of masculine..." "Every German fertility clinic features a cardboard cutout of Till Lindemann choking a shark with one hand, whils…