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Saturday, May 29, 2010

Poppy, I have a confession to make...

Miss Poppy,

There comes a time in a gals life when she has to be brutally honest. You cannot grow as a person if you keep secrets, right? Well, this is my confession.... and be prepared, it is a dooooozy! I hope you can still respect me after my revelation. It changes everything. ( Okay, perhaps I have just added a little flourish for effect here, but whateva')

Poppy... I... who follows the night... fell asleep last night, fingers on the key board. That's right... I fell asleep, mid typing. How can I claim to follow the night when I could not keep my eyes open last night? To make matters worse, I was typing some seriously riveting words when this insanity occurred, which just adds to the ridiculousness of the situation. I am slightly mortified by this. I now live in fear that my "Night Followers Association" membership card is going to be revoked and I am going to suddenly have a need to be in bed before midnight. *Gasp* Quelle horreur!!!!

So tonight, I will not succumb to the call of the pillow... ( or as was the case last night, the call of the back of the couch.) I will stay awake. I will see my glorious night and revel in it.

Join me?

Drinking an energy drink and sending you mucho love,
Night Flower


Thursday, May 20, 2010

You say potato...

Poppy flower,

I can't stop laughing. Hmm... that seems a tad insensitive... Bad Night Flower!
I am sorry about your friends, friend, but "he's been a potato... " Really? Poor thing, if I had to be a veg.... I would rather be something sexy like, like Veronia- Bitter leaf. That sounds like it would be very Night Flower, don't you reckon?

All this talk of veg has me thinking about the seeeeeeeeeekrit project we are working on with the lovely Ms L. Wonder what it will bring.

You say "potato," I say "patattah"
You say "tomato", I say " tomatah"

I must redeem myself with my next blog post.
Kiss kiss,
Night Flower

Mr Potato Head

Chickadee,

I really should give up blogging! When I read back on my posts they just make me cringe, but I have a funny story for you-or I think so anyway-and couldn’t help myself.

Earlier today, I was standing in the kitchen talking with Emily*, Hannah*, Sandy*, and Greta* when Emily told us all that she went to visit her friend’s relative in the hospital. The relative is very sick and isn’t going to live much longer. I commented how sad that was and asked whether she had met the relative before he got sick and Emily responded:

“Not before he got sick. He’s been a potato for a while now.”

I managed to squash my hysterical laughter until Sandy said: “Don’t you mean vegetable?” And then I lost it.

So as I told those gathered in the kitchen, I pass along to you Night Flower. If I am ever in an accident and become a potato you can switch the machine off. I think I have bigger problems to worry about then breathing on my own.

Always,
Poppy

Please Note: Names have been changed to protect the identity/dignity of those involved. Technically it’s a sad topic but what she said almost killed me, I had to pass it along.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Her name was Lola...

Dear Poppy,

Perhaps you have underestimated the lovely ginger that your sister dates.(By the way, Gingers are Minxy.) He might have enjoyed the Barry tribute. "I write the songs that make the whole world sing..." "Oh Mandy, well you came and you gave without taking..." <------- Mandy was a sucka!

I am having one of THOSE days. My head is filled with my characters but my mind is refusing to release the words that go with them. I hate that.

I know what will happen now. I will settle myself into bed and those delicious boys I write will start to talk all sweet and yummy to me. They want out of my head and onto the pages. They are most anxious to have an audience. Show offs.

Sending you editing book dust,
NF<-----( oh yeah, I did go there. Like OG. Opera Ghost.... I rock the mysterious.)

Manilow Magic

Midnight Candy,

I dreamt about Glee last night, how random is that? I don’t think I made it past try outs.

So, my mum went to the club the other night and got two free tickets to see this show called Manilow Magic. When she came home she said she had tickets to a magic show and offered them to us, but my sister’s boyfriend (the red haired, pale one) loves those magic shows so we said to give them to him. She did and he was so excited. Then we looked up the show and turns out it wasn’t a magician, it was a Barry Manilow tribute. I thought we should send him to the show anyway and watch the look on his face when Barry starts belting out some tunes. Unfortunately, he got so excited that my sister had to tell him. Very disappointing. This blog could have been so much funnier if she didn’t have a conscience.

I had a little bit of luck with my writing last night, I edited another chapter. So I’m almost finished the first run through.

Always,
Poppy