Goodbye, AMC or The True Confessions of a Soap Junky

Today when the noon whistle blew in town (and that's another story--I love it, but why does this town  have a noon whistle? It's not like the factory workers are breaking for lunch), it was the first Monday in 42 years that a certain soap was not on the air. (If you don't know which one, you really shouldn't be reading this; it will only embarrass us both.)
I could bemoan this fact, since I have watched the program off and on for the better part of 30 years (no, not every day....), but as it is, I have privileged information that there is a new soap format in town.
Last week, I met a writer named C.C. Crescent who is starting a new blog. She describes it as a "blogopera," a sort of hybrid between a normal blog & total fiction. The stories will unfold on a weekly basis, and track the drama of fictional characters going about their way-not-realistic business in the equally fictional town of Pine Lake. 
The new blog is set to launch this coming Wednesday, September 28th, and a new episode will be published each Wednesday. I have to admit, I'm excited. Since I'm programmed like Pavlov's dogs to check out juicy story lines when that noon whistle goes off, I now have something to look forward to each Wednesday, rather than spending my lunch hour crying in my soup as I mourn the loss of Erica, Tad, Kendall, Zack, Greenly, Ryan, Jessie & Angie, and yes, even bad boy David.
Here's hoping C.C. is up to the task, and that she has a few bad boys (and girls) causing trouble for Pine Lake. Wednesday at noon will find me tuning in to www.pinelakestories.blogspot.com
See you there!

One Writer's Bad Summer Vacation

Okay, this was right up there with the worst summers ever. The June weather was cold and dreary, then there were tornadoes in July. Our power was out for multiple days, multiple times. We tossed everything in the fridge and freezer twice. Then it got beastly hot.
On July 16th, my daughter's wedding was the brief, bright highlight of the summer. She absolutely glowed with happiness in her pouffy white cloud of a wedding gown, and even though the night before, half the cars at the rehearsal dinner were towed away by the "Lincoln Park Pirates," the wedding went without a mishap. Well, almost.
Around 10:30, I was happily boogeying my way around the dance floor when suddenly my feet were entangled by the legs of a young man doing "The Worm." My shoeless feet rolled on the concrete floor, but I stayed upright, more or less. Trouble was, I was in severe pain. I limped off to a corner where I was brought ice and enough booze to numb a gorilla. Back to the dancing for another half hour, then the evening wound down.
The next morning, I was in ER with a broken right ankle, broken right metatarsal, and bad bruising on my left foot. Crutches, RICE, and a very tolerant husband got me back on my feet by mid-August.
Last week, I was out walking Woki, relishing my freedom, when--CRACK--I misstepped and rolled on the left foot. I hobbled home, half a mile, swearing like a drunken gorilla all the way. Sure enough, I broke the other frickin' ankle, so I'm now housebound, on crutches, with not much of a leg to stand on.
I'm going to be spending a lot of time with Dr. J. and the PT boys at Sports & Spinal Rehab, and it will be late autumn before I can even think about running again, which makes me crazy.
So in true writerly fashion, I'm looking for a way to spin all this into a good story. Let's see: first there were tornadoes. Then I was falling through space and all I could see were a pair of legs with red Converse sneakers. The beautiful blond girl in the pouffy white dress couldn't help me, so I'm off to see the Wizard of Os.
Oh, crap.
Three flying monkeys named Agent, Editor, and Publisher just popped in to say that story has already been done.