Friday, October 23, 2009

Something wicked this way comes...

Words: 1000
Caffeine: skipped morning cup altogether and went straight for a cappuccino because the boy woke me up at 6:00 to tell me that Spongebob doesn't have nipples. Don't ask me to explain because I cannot.
Evil Calories: was forced to eat chicken mcnuggets for lunch. They. Are. Disgusting.

Before I go into detail about the wickedness that will soon be invading my soul, I'd like to just take a quick moment to talk to my treadmill.

Dear treadmill aka Lucifer - You're fired. We've been doing this for many, many months now, and I look nothing like the girl on the infomercial. Screw you and the sales guy at Sears who claimed you were the most effective machine on the market. You're shaped funny and sometimes you smell like rubber scented poo. I hate you. Go away.


So, in just one week, I will once again be subjecting myself to the mind altering, soul squishing, self-esteem destroying phenomenon known as NaNoWriMo. (If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, go here.) Now, there are some people I know who claim that the 50K word goal is a total cake walk, but for us normal humans, 50K words in 30 days is a-freakin'-lot. That averages to about 1600 words a day. This can often result in bouts of hysterical crying and cramming pencils into your eye. Even with the best word sprinting schedule, at some point you end up totally Barton Finking out. That being said...YOU SHOULD DO IT! It's a great creative work out and at the end you find yourself with the makings of a novel (I said makings. Meaning, mostly it will look like a steaming pile of garbage, but in between the moldy socks and stinky banana peels, you'll find some sparkly little nuggets of joy).

If you are NaNo-ing, please add me as your buddy so we can go coo-coo together. Then go visit my sister, Amy Ellis at Girlworks, and convince her to do it, too. She thinks she can be all relaxed during the month of November while I descend into the seventh level of creative hell. Ummm, no way. If I'm going down, I'm taking her with me!

Monday, October 19, 2009

Dead banners and zombie babies

Daily Stats:
Words: yep
Caffeine: morning cup so far
Evil Calories: made homemade caramel sauce last night, and for a brief moment I thought I was going to set myself on fire, but I didn't and it was super yummy with Empire apples.

Due to minor technical difficulties, and the fact the blogger seems to have teamed with the forces of bad hair days to work against me, my banner seems to have disappeared. A normal person with wits and forethought would have their banner in a file somewhere on their computer as back up, but I am not a normal person with wits and forethought. I sometimes where my slippers outside and have occasionally put my outgoing mail into the return slot at the library. So, until I can figure out which portable hard drive my banner file is hiding on, I'm going simple (meaning I'm far too lazy to actually walk upstairs into the office, turn the light on and look around).

By the way, has anyone noticed that it's FALL???!!!! My oh-so-favorite holiday ever. Crisp leaves, pumpkin spice lattes, cider mills and fresh-out-of-the-fryer-then-eat-four-and-go-directly-to-the-hospital donuts. And, of course, Halloween. There is no measure for this love I have for Halloween. Maybe if you lined up cupcakes and about 400 Clive Owens, you could get a vague idea. And naturally, whenever anything Halloween related is on TV, I watch it. Like last night on the Food Network, they had a pumpkin carving challenge. I figured they'd have cake decorators or sculptors, maybe that Goodfellas-like dude from that Cake Boss show. But no. They had professional pumpkin carvers. Yes. Professional pumpkin carvers. I don't remember that being listed in any of our career planning material in school, do you? And, get this, one of the judges was the president of the haunted house association. I SO want that job. "This year I'd like to focus on splattering brain matter, people. And eyeballs! I want eyeballs launched through the splattering brain matter! And zombie babies. In skinny jeans! Yes, zombie babies in skinny jeans swimming in eyeball launching splattering brain matter. Go team!"

Actually, if I were really the president of the haunted house association, I'd kick it totally old school, like those old Disney haunted house records. Those. Are. Freaky. It would be all about subtlety. I'd take the things-that-go-bump-in-the-night approach. Ghostly screams, doors slamming, chains dragging. I think people should use their imaginations more instead of having splattering brain matter, eyeballs and zombie babies spoon fed to them. When you have an active imagination, you don't need a whole lot to scare the ever loving crap out of you. All you need are a few small suggestions, and you'll fill in the rest.

Of course I wanted the boy to dress as a Jedi for Halloween, but his obsession with robots trumped any of my ideas. I liked it better when he was 2 and I dressed him as Yoda and there was nothing he could do about it. Now he's all full of opinions. What. Ever.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Geeking it up

Daily Stats:
Words: some
Caffeine: morning cup so far
Evil Calories: suspended due to fear that I won't fit into my winter clothes from last year. Will live on shaved ice salads for a week until I work up the nerve to try them on.

This past week has been a momentous one in our house. My darling son has started to enjoy his very first Star Wars toys. (For the record, I had intended on my 12" Boba Fett being his first toy, but our evil feline monster ate his clothes, wookie scalp and rocket pack before little dude was born. Just FYI, they did not make Boba anatomically correct. Poor guy.) Now, I admit that I was a little more excited than he was as we stood in the toy isle at Target, mostly because after digging around I found a Han Solo action figure (the one where he's dressed as a Storm Trooper. Hello, nurse!) And, okay, I did have to keep dragging darling son's attention away from the Transformers toys behind us. "No, no, who cares about the Optimus Prime voice changer helmet! Look at the R2-D2 with sound effects and remote control!". (Note to the lady in head to toe Juicy Couture and four inch heels who was passing by and looked at me like my head was a knock-off Fendi - just FYI, You'd look better with more hot pink eyeshadow. And, perhaps, with my shoe crammed up your nose.)

Anyway, after a thorough deliberation over which toy to purchase (meaning the first thing I could grab before darling son had a thermonuclear meltdown over me refusing to buy a Hanna Montana guitar), we ended up with a Snow Speeder action set with a probe droid and Luke and Dak action figures. He thinks Luke's Lightsaber is a bat and keeps calling Dak the UPS man, but he is running through the house with the speeder making spaceship sounds. Gotta start somewhere, right?

On a lighter, less totally geeky note, I finally found long lost chapter 3. See, I was sitting at the library the other day writing and went into my "poo lives" folder to find and older version of chapter 3 that I thought might have some most excellent material, and I couldn't find it. Of course, much cursing ensued, especially when I considered that it may have been something I didn't get chance to pull off my old computer before it bit the dust. However, I dug around one of our portable hard drives and, sweet mother crap, there it was. Crisis averted. I would have been very distraught. Of course, I opened it and went, "geez, no wonder I scrapped this hunk of drivel". But, there were two valuable paragraphs I managed to pilfer. I love me. Through the oceans of crap, I sometimes manage to spew a few gems.