Eden M. Kennedy

you've come to the right place

Eden M. Kennedy is the co-author (with Alice Bradley) of the book Let's Panic About Babies! (St. Martin's Press, 2011).

A former college-radio DJ, Mrs. Kennedy has driven cross-country six times in a Volkswagen Bug and enjoys standing on her head.

Currently she works at a public library and is finishing writing her first novel.

Hold On, Hold On

I got invited to another one of those vibrator fashion parties last night but I didn't go. I've been too melancholy/weirdly needy lately to participate in a healthy social encounter; last week I even managed to bail on the book club that I'd only just joined last month. Really, I rationalized, why go out and drink when you can stay home and do it without risking both the finish on your fender and the life of an overconfident pedestrian? Also, when you stay at home, no one will beguile you into buying $300 worth of clothes that you don't need and can't pay for. Although I do regret missing the book club, it was probably the only occasion in my life where I could have dusted off a relevant personal anecdote about D. H. Lawrence's "Sons and Lovers." (Warning to all recent immigrants from Yorkshire: fear me and my familiarity with nineteenth-century British coal miner's slang.)

So now it's morning and for the amount of wine I drank last night I shouldn't be nearly as chipper and clear-headed as I am, but apparently my tolerance is skyrocketing (thanks, therapy!). Mostly all I have rattling around in my head is a minor-key Neko Case song and some vague ideas about finishing this post with a picture of our tortoise trying to stuff his head under the refrigerator.

Jackson: "I barfed last night so that means I can't go to school today."

Me: "Says who?"

Jackson: "Says [my teacher]!"

We size each other up to decide who's going to be the bigger bullshitter.

Me: "That wasn't a stomach bug barf. You just coughed so hard that you barfed."

I just needed to get him out of the house, let's face it. We've made it almost all the way through flu season with nothing worse than a runny nose and I'll be damned if he's going to get off the hook without a fever of 104 and ballooning tonsilitis.

Now I've done it! We're doomed!

Well, I really should be working. Did I tell you that Alice and I are writing a book together? We even have an agent who understands our rather demented goals and she's sending out our proposal today. Six-figure advance! Fingers crossed!