Daily Stats:
Words: some
Caffeine: morning cup + late afternoon cappuccino
Evil Calories: cookies. lots of 'em.
Reality TV: ANTM reruns on Oxygen
Things that are awesome:
- My son, who now can say, "hey, why are you all up in my grill?" thanks to the other awesome man in my life
- My glass of wine
- The fact that I ran 4 miles earlier while watching Hellboy II: The Golden Army. Which leads me to...
- My new Macbook, which can actually play movies without going into cardiac arrest
- My writing
- The new Jim Gaffigan special on Comedy Central tonight
- Asparagus
Things that are not awesome:
- The snow that is falling outside my kitchen window
- My hair, which is suffering the effects of the 4 mile run
- The fact that I'm going to be 36 in a couple of weeks
- Cat boxes
- My writing
- The fact that I'm going to be 36 in a couple of weeks
- Dry contact lenses
- Beets
- The fact that I'm going to be 36 in a couple of weeks
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
It is done
Daily Stats:
Words: Shazbot!
Caffeine: morning cup + late afternoon cappuccino
Evil Calories: No! I lost another pound last week and am close to my goal of 120, so be gone you evil, sugary demons!
Reality TV: ANTM
Now, before you get your panties in a bunch (as if my measly adventures in writing would really have any effect on you panties anyway), allow me to clarify the above title. Yes, I am done with the book. But I am done with the book because I have to be, because if I spend one more second looking at it or thinking about it, I will jab fondu forks in my eyes. The final four chapters are clumsy, ill-paced and full of holes. But I must put it down before I flip out and write in an alien invasion or zombie attack to wipe out all of my characters. So, I shall lend it a muu-muu, give it a mojito and send it on vacation until the end of May. Two months should be enough time for me to be able to look at with clear eyes. Or at least slightly less "going postal" eyes.
In the meantime, I will start work on my next idea, which is pure, unadulterated fluff. AC has been a huge challenge for me. Trying to be witty w/out being flippant, trying to be poignant and melancholy without making myself dry heave. I hate sap, but it's hard to write about a girl's father dying without letting a little drivel in. It's been tricky, to say the least. But my new endeavor has none of that. I mean, my MC is being trained for a job in the afterlife by her loony dead uncle. It's pillows of marshmallow all the way. Woo-freakin'-hoo! All hail brain candy!
Words: Shazbot!
Caffeine: morning cup + late afternoon cappuccino
Evil Calories: No! I lost another pound last week and am close to my goal of 120, so be gone you evil, sugary demons!
Reality TV: ANTM
Now, before you get your panties in a bunch (as if my measly adventures in writing would really have any effect on you panties anyway), allow me to clarify the above title. Yes, I am done with the book. But I am done with the book because I have to be, because if I spend one more second looking at it or thinking about it, I will jab fondu forks in my eyes. The final four chapters are clumsy, ill-paced and full of holes. But I must put it down before I flip out and write in an alien invasion or zombie attack to wipe out all of my characters. So, I shall lend it a muu-muu, give it a mojito and send it on vacation until the end of May. Two months should be enough time for me to be able to look at with clear eyes. Or at least slightly less "going postal" eyes.
In the meantime, I will start work on my next idea, which is pure, unadulterated fluff. AC has been a huge challenge for me. Trying to be witty w/out being flippant, trying to be poignant and melancholy without making myself dry heave. I hate sap, but it's hard to write about a girl's father dying without letting a little drivel in. It's been tricky, to say the least. But my new endeavor has none of that. I mean, my MC is being trained for a job in the afterlife by her loony dead uncle. It's pillows of marshmallow all the way. Woo-freakin'-hoo! All hail brain candy!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
new kicks
Daily Stats:
Words: yes
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: kickin' it old school with little wheat crackers with peanut butter and little chunks of dark chocolate
Reality TV: ANTM
For the past few weeks, my secret little spot has been the Starbucks cafe inside of Barnes & Noble. When you don't have the means to pull a proper Agatha Christie, you've got to take what you can get. I like it there for several reasons. They don't have power outlets, so it's rarely crowded (thank you, Sexy Beast, and your bad-ass eight hour battery), the cafe is gargantuan, so if it does get crowded, it never feels crowded. And lastly, they serve cheesecake. I don't ever order it, mind you. It just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy that they have it. Oh, and as an added bonus, the barista looks a little like Han Solo (if you can imagine Han in a green apron and bad shoes).
But there are odd things at my secret little spot as well. For instance, rival gangs of elderly canasta players. I'm telling you, one of these days the lady in the purple muu-muu with her wig on backwards is going to throw down with the woman in the green high-water polyester pants. It's only a matter of time. Then there's the dude in the Superman t-shirt who chews on his Starbucks cup. (I can't even make a joke about this one. It's just bizarre.) Lastly, the old dude who comes in every day at 2:00 to make phone calls. There are people in his life that need detailed accounts of his bowel activity. Apparently, smack in the middle of a Barnes & Noble cafe is the ideal place to relay this information.
Odd, paper cup eating dudes aside, I'm writing my ta-tas off. It's forced writing, which can be tricky. You know, the "I will finish this by next Wednesday or I'll tear my own arm off and beat myself to death with it" kind of writing. Sometimes my brain cooperates and sometimes I sound like I'm writing an episode of the Teletubbies. So much effort to make my writing seem effortless. My poor brain is going to need a serious spa day after this.
Words: yes
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: kickin' it old school with little wheat crackers with peanut butter and little chunks of dark chocolate
Reality TV: ANTM
For the past few weeks, my secret little spot has been the Starbucks cafe inside of Barnes & Noble. When you don't have the means to pull a proper Agatha Christie, you've got to take what you can get. I like it there for several reasons. They don't have power outlets, so it's rarely crowded (thank you, Sexy Beast, and your bad-ass eight hour battery), the cafe is gargantuan, so if it does get crowded, it never feels crowded. And lastly, they serve cheesecake. I don't ever order it, mind you. It just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy that they have it. Oh, and as an added bonus, the barista looks a little like Han Solo (if you can imagine Han in a green apron and bad shoes).
But there are odd things at my secret little spot as well. For instance, rival gangs of elderly canasta players. I'm telling you, one of these days the lady in the purple muu-muu with her wig on backwards is going to throw down with the woman in the green high-water polyester pants. It's only a matter of time. Then there's the dude in the Superman t-shirt who chews on his Starbucks cup. (I can't even make a joke about this one. It's just bizarre.) Lastly, the old dude who comes in every day at 2:00 to make phone calls. There are people in his life that need detailed accounts of his bowel activity. Apparently, smack in the middle of a Barnes & Noble cafe is the ideal place to relay this information.
Odd, paper cup eating dudes aside, I'm writing my ta-tas off. It's forced writing, which can be tricky. You know, the "I will finish this by next Wednesday or I'll tear my own arm off and beat myself to death with it" kind of writing. Sometimes my brain cooperates and sometimes I sound like I'm writing an episode of the Teletubbies. So much effort to make my writing seem effortless. My poor brain is going to need a serious spa day after this.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Spring forward
Daily Stats:Words: yes and yes
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: Girl Scout cookies (little wenches cornered me at the grocery store. Resistance is futile.)
Reality TV: Make Me a Supermodel reruns
Just a few things you should know:
a) I am springing forward. See, I even bend at the knee and put my shoulders into it. I plan on colliding headfirst with a Gardenia or a Cherry Blossom. Screw winter and the deranged horse it rode in on.
b) I used pancetta in my pasta e fagioli tonight instead of bacon, and sweet mother of crap, it was so very many kinds of awesome. Husband made fun of me because I used the phrase "it rounds out the flavor", but it really did round out the flavor, if the flavor of soup can be round, which, if you've had enough merlot, it most certainly can be, along with being oblong, square and triangular.
and finally
c) My mom is town, which means I get massive amounts of time off, which means by March 25, when a Southwest Airlines flight whisks her back to Portland, After Charlie will be done, done, done, done and done! If I'm a bit absent in the next few weeks, you'll know why. I'll be hiding in various place - the library, the Starbucks up the street, the laundry room at 3:00am - tapping out my last few chapters. Freakin', frackin finally. Finishing this book as been like trying to shit an oven. Very much near impossible.
Monday, March 2, 2009
fall asleep to dream
Daily Stats:
Words: zzzzz......
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: things
Reality TV: ANTM reruns
This is Pep, my evil, three-legged, wheezing feline monster. Sometimes Pep and I don't see eye to eye, like when he jumps up on the bed while I'm trying to write and decides it's the ideal time for a thorough kitty-parts cleaning. Kitty-parts cleanings are not subtle things. Those of you with cats know what I'm talking about. Now imagine if, along with the thwick-thwick-thwick sound, your cat wheezed. Thwick-hrreeeeee-thwick-hrreeeeee-thwick-hrreeeeee. It's not good for my calm. But, sometimes, Pep gets it right, like in the above photo. That is exactly how I feel. Sleepy, sleepy-sleeperson. I always feel this way this time of year, bobbing around in the armpit of winter. Four straight months of arctic conditions with no end in sight and the mind, the body and the spirit start to check out. The only logical thing to do is sleep. Time passes much faster when you're sleeping than it does when you're looking out your kitchen window at the trees bending sideways from the below zero hurricane winds. And sometimes I think it's worse when the sun is out this time of year, because it just illuminates how dead everything looks. Bare trees, brown grass, dirty snow, salt residue on EVERYTHING - your car, the streets, your clothes. Bla, bla and bla.
March = ick
Words: zzzzz......
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: things
Reality TV: ANTM reruns
This is Pep, my evil, three-legged, wheezing feline monster. Sometimes Pep and I don't see eye to eye, like when he jumps up on the bed while I'm trying to write and decides it's the ideal time for a thorough kitty-parts cleaning. Kitty-parts cleanings are not subtle things. Those of you with cats know what I'm talking about. Now imagine if, along with the thwick-thwick-thwick sound, your cat wheezed. Thwick-hrreeeeee-thwick-hrreeeeee-thwick-hrreeeeee. It's not good for my calm. But, sometimes, Pep gets it right, like in the above photo. That is exactly how I feel. Sleepy, sleepy-sleeperson. I always feel this way this time of year, bobbing around in the armpit of winter. Four straight months of arctic conditions with no end in sight and the mind, the body and the spirit start to check out. The only logical thing to do is sleep. Time passes much faster when you're sleeping than it does when you're looking out your kitchen window at the trees bending sideways from the below zero hurricane winds. And sometimes I think it's worse when the sun is out this time of year, because it just illuminates how dead everything looks. Bare trees, brown grass, dirty snow, salt residue on EVERYTHING - your car, the streets, your clothes. Bla, bla and bla.
March = ick
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