NaNoWriMo-UhOh It's the end of November?

What the hell happened?

I had so many plans, so many thoughts so many reasons to not speak to friends and family while I was focusing on my work! My writing! My brilliance!

Which ended up being me, sitting and thinking, "Well, if I just look at this type of boot, maybe I'll find one I like," or "Sometimes watching multiple episodes of Psych is the best way to stimulate my creativity," or, more often than not, "Meh, I hate what I'm writing. Fuck this."

Writing is a bastard.  Truly.  It'll pull you in and sucker you into thinking that you can do this, it'll not only be cathartic but FUNSIES and so easy, you'll wonder why you aren't doing it ALL THE TIME.

You know why?

Because it's exhausting and sometimes really demoralizing.

But!

This year, instead of lamenting my sad word count, I've opted to focus on the positive:

• I've had the opportunity to chat with and email with some really good writers who are interested in what I'm doing and who I find interesting.
• I've written.  Not as much as I'd hoped, but some, and that's better than nothing.
• I've had mini-epiphanies.  Those are so great, and I can't discount how important it is to just learn, sometimes, and that the simple act of HAVING an idea is good enough.
• I've actually completed NaNoWriMo before, so I can complete it again.  Not this year, but maybe next year.  Why not? Just because I didn't finish this time doesn't mean I'll never finish.
• I can continue to work on my story and it'll be fine, whether it's done in January or May.  November is a bullshit month anyway.

This is a massive shift in my thinking - generally I'm a "OH, NO, THE CALAMITY" type person if things don't go according to plan [I know, shocking, right?].  The idea that it's o.k. to have a timeline shift, that it's o.k. to fail, is something that I'm working on, for everyone's benefit.

What about you? Did you write? Are you still writing? Are we still friends?

Are you sure you got everything you needed?

You always forget that one thing you have to pick up at the last minute, right?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Enjoy!

[I know I posted this last year, but it still cracks me up.  Also, evidently this blog has now become a porn blog.  You're welcome.]

 [A favorite Thanksgiving memory - I still can't get over the fact that this flyer went out EVERYWHERE.]

Does the apple really fall that far from the tree?

On Friday, my mother and my sister graciously came over to help me clean my house because the husband was picking up the girl from school and I am just a lazy bastard who needs help cleaning when it comes to the end of the week - actually, just in general. So they came over, and my mom, who is kind of take no prisoners when it comes to cleaning [she even brought over a giant container of degreaser, because evidently my house has boiling vats of oil in each room], had us jumping to clean clean CLEAN.

I had some prints that I purchased which I hadn't put up yet, and my mother would not let this stand, so she starts putting the prints in frames and she sees one that I plan on putting in the bedroom and says, "What is this?"

And I say, "I think it's cute - like how the husband and I sleep."

And she looks at me kind of sideways and says, "It looks like you're doing something else, you know, from behind."

And then I bleached my brain.

She kind of ruined this:

Cute, right? PS My room is not that yellow.

Who's got the smutty mind now, huh? HUH?

My Heart Will Go On

My dearest darling,

I'm not sure what happened.

I'm not sure what I could have done differently.

Sure, I neglected you sometimes - but I swear, baby, I loved you. 

I wanted us to be together forever.  I had plans, baby.  Big plans, that we'd live out our lives together.  Maybe as a threesome, but you know? I'm cool.  It would have been amazing.  A rock solid relationship that would have been the envy of all our friends. I knew you'd be there waiting for me, patiently, ready to go at a moment's notice.

And now?  Now, you've gone away from me, and it's been made clear that you aren't coming back.  That we'll never spend all those hours together on the weekend, or furtively in the morning before I run off for work. That our relationship is over, that we're truly not going to be spending those precious moments together.

I still hold out hope that you'll somehow, some way, come back to me and be a part of my life.  Be part of what we once were.

I miss you, baby.  I don't want to replace you, but you've left me no choice.

Good bye, sweet Kenmore Gas Dryer.  We had something special, and now it's gone. 

Yours until the dryer sheets stop spinning,

Suniverse


<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3


Part of
 


[Write a love letter to an inanimate object.]

Book Review Tuesday

If it's Tuesday, and I need a blog topic, then it must be Book Review Tuesday!


As I've mentioned, I've been reading Nancy Drew books to fall asleep.  Alas, I finished the last book we owned [The Secret of Pumping Out These Books for Fifty Years, or some such title] and as I have also mentioned, I am grossed out by library books.  As you may imagine, that goes double for books that germy children have had their grubby hands on, so I'm done reading the Nancy Drew books for a while.

But as I was reading, I realized that Nancy Drew is AMAZING. I mean, I knew she was a super-sleuth, and that her father, the renowned River Heights attorney Carson Drew, asked her to help him with his cases sometimes [I want to see: 1. The billable hours on that; 2. The reaction of his clients when they find out an 18 year old girl {who somehow becomes 17 in the newer books, WTF, Caroline Keene?} has been given the information on their case; and 3. The Disciplinary Board's reaction to Carson Drew sharing information about his clients.  I know, I know, suspension of disbelief.], but I had no IDEA that she was so gifted in so many areas.  For example, Nancy Drew can:

• Understand and use Morse Code
• Tap Dance [and even tap dance MORSE CODE!]
• Ice Dance [well enough to be in a show at the last minute!]
• Model
• Calm savage dogs
• Read Middle English
• Drive a motor boat
• Read and speak French
• Ski

Is there anything she can't do?

********

I listened to The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon.  I actually liked this for the most part, which surprised me because not only was I meh about the whole idea of the book from the blurb on the cover [a murder in Alaska in an alternate universe and something about chess], but also because Michael Chabon and his wife Ayelet Waldman make me want to punch them repeatedly. They just rub me the wrong way. They come off super smug. 

But, I needed to listen to something and there were very few options at the library [no, I do NOT want to listen to Nicholas Sparks] because evidently all the old people checked everything out, so I got it and it was surprisingly engaging.  I think it was about 3-4 CDs too long [maybe 100 - 150 pages?] but I really liked the mix of noir and Yiddish languages and the way the book [mostly] kept moving. So, I guess if you are in a bind and need to listen to something, this would be . . . something.

********

When I work out and am at physical therapy, I like to have a book to take my mind off of what I'm doing.  My physical therapist says that if you're working hard enough, you can't actually read a book.  I say, if I'm working that hard, I'd just be crying instead, so I'll take the book, thanks.

The most recent workout book I finished was Bergdorf Blondes by Plum Sykes.  This was . . . just beyond bad. I mean, even for frothy chick lit, this was terrible.  How terrible?

• I have absolutely no idea who the main character is.  I know she's supposed to be a writer, but beyond that? Nothing. For a minute, I thought she was an omniscient narrator, and then I realized that she was the main plot and she wrote in first person. For the life of me, I have no idea what her name is.  It's not Bergdorf, because that's her best friend, who, frankly, was super self-involved and far more engaging. So, yeah, the MAIN CHARACTER is so dull you can't remember anything about her, including her name, WHILE YOU ARE READING THE BOOK.
• The main plot was how Main Character's mother kept wanting her to marry the Earl Next Door, but Main Character wasn't interested in living on an English estate, she wants to be a New York Girl, and she keeps meeting this cute movie producer who helps Main Character when she ends up in all kinds of jams and then [SPOILER ALERT] it turns out HE'S the Earl Next Door.
• I keep calling the author Plum Skies.  And then wonder who names their child Plum. Besides Gwyneth.

This book was miserably bad, but I kept forgetting to grab a different book and ended up reading the whole thing.  I should have just cried the whole time instead.

*************
Which just goes to show you how god-awful The White Queen by Phillipa Gregory is.  I got through 2 CDs before I returned it because instead of being about magic or intrigue or even sex, it was all lameness and boredom. I mean, it was ostensibly about all three of those more interesting things, but it moved at a glacial pace and actually made me scan through regular radio to find something else to listen to.

What are you reading?

Fucking hubris

Hubris is when you've decided to make salted caramel sauce [it's as amazing as it sounds, truly] to go with the homemade dark chocolate triple chocolate chip ice cream that is spinning in your ice cream maker while you are finishing up some freelance work and thinking about what you'll make for dinner tomorrow night [because you do nothing if not plan ahead when you can] [it's probably going to be pasta with sauteed vegetables and some grilled chicken] and think about when you need to get the sides going for dinner tonight [au gratin potatoes and roasted Brussels sprouts] and as you make it, you think, "I've made this 4 or 5 times already and it's never been a pain or a problem or burned me - in fact, it's so fucking easy, I'm going to go into the office and check when my DVDs are due back at the library," only to come back into the kitchen to find that your sugar has burned and stunk up the place, but instead of completely losing your mind [like you did when the pie crust you tried to make for beef pot pie was too wet and it signaled the end of the fucking world], you merely set the pan on the back burner and think, "Big deal, a 1/2 cup of sugar, who cares, I'll start a new pan," and then, because you have OCD which makes it impossible to leave something undone, you think, "I should really empty out that still boiling pot of sugar," and you pour it into the plastic garbage bin liner upon which it completely starts MELTING EVERYTHING and you frantically pull the plastic garbage liner out of the can instead of just taking the can outside because evidently the TOXIC CHEMICALS WHICH HAVE BEEN RELEASED have addled your thinking at which point a 1 centimeter long piece of burnt caramel lands on the edge of your hand, right under your pinky, and then you lose your mind like you did when the pie crust betrayed you, calling your husband in from the outdoors to PLEASE, HURRY, COME HELP, because you are pretty sure you are dying.

Goddamn Greeks and their big ideas.

Quick and Dirty

Do you know where I'm at today?

Dropping knowledge over at Funny not Slutty.

I talk about You Know Who [yes, Goopie], so take a look.

It's not all it's cracked up to be, but I'm still doing it.

My big girl job allows me to work from home on occasion.

I know, right?

While this is incredibly awesome, and not something they will pry away from me without much anger and despair and wailing, working from home is not all it's cracked up to be.

Herewith, my pros and cons:

Pro: No commute.

Con: Thinking that this means you'll still get up at your usual ungodly hour and accomplish some of those household/health maintenance tasks you simply don't have time for during the week, because of the hellish commute and the attendant tiredness.

Yeah, instead it's just an extra hour of sleeping in and then feeling like a loser shitheel because you are once again BEHIND in your day and you just woke up.

Pro: Not having to use a public restroom.

Con: Realizing you do, actually, use a lot of toilet paper and have to replace it more often than you are willing to tell people.  Also, the cats don't want you to be sad and lonely, so they will follow you into the bathroom [or throw themselves at the door if you are foolish enough to shut it properly], meaning that your personal time just got weird.

Pro: Not having to work through your lunch.

Con: Actually making your lunch during the day, which seems like a lot more work than it does first thing in the morning.

Also, the proximity of those evil seductresses, yummy salted pita chips can be overwhelming and you might will maybe are going to eat a lot more of them than you should, necessitating more water drinking which means more peeing and here we go again, cats twining themselves around your legs while you're doing your business. 

Pro: Blessed solitude.

Con: Feeling like you have to immediately answer IMs and emails from your co-workers so they don't think you're slacking off. 

Pro: Not having to get dressed up.

Con: Still getting showered and dressed so you don't feel like a hobo.  And then feeling like you've wasted a cute outfit on nobody, unless the UPS guy shows up, or you think of an errand you can run.


But who wants to run an errand? You've just had a tough day at work!

And that's why baby monitors are for the devil

The husband and I love watching movies.  As I said, we generally have a difficult time trying to find a movie we both want to watch, but we've gotten pretty good at adapting and enjoying spending time together.  Because when you are old and tired, the best date nights are the ones that happen in your comfortable chair [with your back saving heating pad - which, by the way, I have somehow crumpled into something that should not probably be used anymore.  Where do people buy heating pads? Heating Pads R Us?] without the masses, with yummy popcorn and the ability to halt the movie when the need to pee strikes.  Why would I leave the house?

Halloween weekend we were recovering from getting flu shots [meaning I was attempting not to panic and failing miserably until I was completely distracted by the passage of time and carry out dinner and the distraction of running errands], so we decided to just spend the weekend watching movies.  Well, we both also worked, but we made a conscious decision to hunker down in our free time.  Besides doing laundry, etc.  Gah.  Evidently the days of truly doing nothing have passed me by.

We picked up Horrible Bosses at Best Buy [where we went after getting flu shots and hitting Costco - I may have been a bit flittery and panicky during those stops.  I will not lie.] and watched that Friday night.  It was pretty good, and had a lot of my favorites in it [I am still unable to resist Collin Farrel, despite all the warning signs] [although the combover was pushing my limits].

Saturday I went to the library and decided to pick up some movies.  I got Cloverfield and Nightmare on Elm Street.

Cloverfield was terrible.  It was actually worse than just sitting staring into space because of the bullshit handheld camera jitteriness.  That doesn't make the movie seem more real.  It just makes it seem like you are stupid and don't know how to use a camera.  Lots of postapocalyptic movies are shot with regular normal cameras and I don't feel like it's the camera work that makes it seem less viable that Will Smith is the only one alive in New York after zombie rabies hits.


Nightmare on Elm Street was worse.  I accidentally picked up the new version and it was so bad that not only did I not care about any of the kids died, I was actively rooting on Freddy Kreuger.  We stopped watching after about 30 minutes.

Then the husband checked Netflix streaming and we watched The Baby's Room.

And I ended up having nightmares.

The movie is a Spanish horror/suspense movie, so you can watch it and feel very erudite for watching a movie with subtitles, despite the fact that terror is a universal language.  If you like scary movies, I highly suggest you watch this.  It's unbelievably creepy, and all I can say is that I am thankful that the girl is grown and we have no use for baby monitors, particularly the video kind because oh my god, what the fuck would you want to have one of those for? That's just ASKING for trouble.

I went to bed kind of scared, but figured that a few minutes reading Nancy Drew's latest adventure [she's going skiing! And people are buying fake stock in a fake fur company!].  I actually kind of wanted the husband to join me, but not enough to really push the issue, because I probably would have hated him a little bit.  A lot.  I would have hated him a lot.

I woke up from a nightmare at about 1:30am, needing to pee.  The bedroom was dark, and while I knew, intellectually, that I wasn't trapped in one of those creepy asylum bed wards, I wasn't quite ready to actually leave the bed and make sure no one was chasing me.

I finally got up, because we don't have a waterproof mattress pad, and went to the bathroom.  Neither of the cats tried to join me, which made me wonder if they: 1. Knew that something fucked up was going to happen to me, or 2: They had already gone over to the dark side.

I hurried back to bed, leaving the hall light on because darkness is when the monsters get you. I also realized when I got back into my bedroom that the window was slightly open, which made me worry that some creepy mist-type creature had slithered in through the screen. 

I shut it, got back into bed, and thought that maybe the husband and I should watch musicals instead.