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 |  My American Notebooks |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** When Nathaniel Hawthorne was writing, he kept a series of journals, The American Notebooks. They were part daily journal, part diary, but mostly a place for him to jot down and try out bits of writing he hadn't a full venue for yet. He kept character sketches, odd bits of conversation, and observances he wanted to remember for future writings in his notebooks. This, then, is my place for odd bits I want to remember. When you read this, keep in mind, you are rummaging through my mental storehouse. Check out:
And don't forget to vote for your favorite blogger each month. 
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| Hubby and I had a long talk last night, it’s why I didn’t blog yesterday. We talked for about 3 hours. I have been extremely stressed for the last two months about the way my novel is going. And I’ve been extremely stressed for the last month about not having a job. We worked both subjects out last night. First, Hubby told me to quit stressing out about not having a job. Whew. He said a job will happen when it’s supposed to and even then he only wants me to get a part time job. Writing is my full time job.  I love that man. He’s so understanding.We also talked about my writing and my writing goals. (He read my Dear Me letter, so he knows my daily, weekly and monthly writing goals.) He also informed me that contrary to what I believed, blogging does NOT count toward my 500 word a day goal.  What?! I know. How dare he?! But, he made some cogent points. And after our talk last night I’m going to have to go with him on this one. Some of you guys have long, well researched article-worthy blogs. I’ll be honest. Mine aren’t. Mine are just emails to my friends that I post here instead of sending out in bulk. Sometimes I have a real topic, but most of the time it’s just chatty, uninteresting stuff. It’s like having a conversation with my mom or my sister. Some of it I may refer back to for my writing, but most of it....naw. It’s just chit-chat. Fun, but chit-chat. So...in addition to my blogging, I will need to come up with 500 OTHER words a day. But that’s ok. I don’t mind. I like blogging. And it’s not really hard for me to come up with blogging topics usually. It is mostly like a chatty little email to you guys. It’s kind of a brain dump before I write other stuff. Or a brain dump before I go to bed. It keeps my fingers limber and primes the pump for my other stuff.Speaking of my other stuff. I’ve been REALLY struggling with my novel. I’ve been editing it off and on since I finished it last September. Gah. It’s wretched.  No really. When I wrote it, I didn’t start at Chapter 1, page 1 and then continue on from start to finish. I would get an idea for a scene over in Chapter 6 and go jot it down or write the entire scene. Then I would get an idea for Chapter 2 and come back and write that scene. Now the damn thing is cut and pasted, cobbled together so badly it looks like a bastard child of Dr. Frankenstein. There are whole swaths of it that are out of sequence or chronological order, not to mention big gaping holes right in the middle of it. Or I will say one thing on page 27 and then flat out contradict myself on page 43.  It’s shit. Hubby has tried twice to read it and has given up both times in absolute frustration. He says that what he can make out of it is really good, but.... So, he proposed something that made me burst into tears last night when he said it, but once he got me calmed down, it really made sense. I’m going to start at the beginning and just rewrite the damn thing. That’s right. No cutting, no pasting. Straight rewrite. ~sigh~ I will use the other one as a sort of template, but hopefully instead of a patchwork quilt, this time I can get the tapestry I was going for. It will take a lot of time, I know, but I really feel it will be worth it. And maybe I can quit feeling quite so hopeless about the darn thing.Wish me luck. ---- I wrote all of that earlier today when I was banned - that's right I said BANNED - from the internet. I was doing some freewriting exercises that Hubby and I came up with to hopefully help release some of the writing (and emotional) tension in my brain. That's kinda been my biggest problem lately, I get so stressed out I can't seem to get the words out on paper (or screen) everything just builds up inside my head and sort of logjams there. Except in these blogs. For some reason these are exempt from it. The words just seem to flow. That's why I wrote a blog entry in the middle of my freewriting today.  Blogging loosens the jam somewhat. So for the next couple of days I think that's what I'm going to do. Get up take care of a few small things around the house and then sit down and freewrite. Eat lunch and then try to work on some of my other work in the afternoon. Tomorrow morning Sofie goes in to get spayed, so I'll be up nice and early. Then tomorrow night I'll do a little catching up in here. Tonight I watched Finding Forrester with Sean Connery for writing inspiration. If y'all haven't seen it, you should. It's a great writers movie. If you've got kids who write, have them watch it with you.OK, I've got other things I need to do. See y'all tomorrow hopefully. |
| Ok, so, not so much on the catching up today. Instead, Hubby came home from work about 12:30. He'd been to the Dr. He didn't have the flu, he had bronchitis and an ear infection. So....he took his new meds and got some rest. But first we watched one of his birthday movies together. (He likes company when he's sick. )I got him The Illusionsist. It was pretty good. It has Edward Norton and Jessica Biel. Great twist ending. We also got him Flyboys, but we haven't watched it yet. No catching up. Alot of reading, though. I'm reading an author my daughter recommended right now. Young adult fantasy. Garth Nix. He's Australian. It's pretty good stuff. I think he has three series so far. I'm three books into one series and I've started the first book of another. Since YA fantasy is an area I'm interested in writing, I try to keep an oar in with popular authors. My daughter and my Mom keep me informed about the newest books. (Mom is the Book Fair Coordinator at the middle school in her town. Not sure how she got roped into since she hasn't had a middle schooler in almost 20 years, but.... )Anyway. This is really just a quick post so that I can keep a blue month. Don't know how long it will last, but I am gonna try. |
| This weekend was Hubby's birthday. It wasn't a very spectacular one, though, 'cause he's got the flu. Luckily, not the throwing up kind. Just the achy, fevery kind. He's slept most of the weekend. We got him a cake and I made him one of his favorite meals last night - homemade pizza. It was pretty good. Italian sausage and pepperoni with black olives. We also got ice cream. Butter pecan (light) for him, caramel/vanilla ribbon (light) for me and (my REAL favorite) regular rocky road for Monilad. The cake was the best, though. Hubby's cake is a bit of joke in the family. Monilad and I search out the silliest little kid cake we can find for him every year. One year it was Spongebob Squarepants. This year we wavered pretty hard between Elmo and My Little Pony, but Power Rangers finally won out. I was a little sick and sad once I cut into the cake, though. When I bought it, I saw "Bavarian Creme Filled!" on the top and didn't really pay very good attention to the smaller sticker on the side.  Hubby and Monilad loved it. It was a dark rich chocolate. ~sigh~ For some silly reason I had thought it was a yellow cake underneath the white frosting. It looked REALLY good with that creamy Bavarian custard inside it, too. But, I was good and only had my ice cream. No migraine is worth it. I did get a lot of editing and writing in this weekend. I'm hoping to get some of my emails gone through tomorrow. Sometimes when I get in writing mode, stuff falls throught the cracks. Does that ever happen to y'all? |
| Today was the first game that monilad was allowed to play basketball again. I worried the whole time. I kept being afraid she would get elbowed in the head or fall and hit it again. It's hard being the Momma. She had to go back to the Urgent Care last Wednesday for concussion related headaches. He sent her home for the day and said if she had anymore before Saturday she had to have a Cat scan. (She didn't. Whew. She just loves to stress me out.) We won, but it was a really hard fought game. I was proud of them. But I felt so sorry for the other little team. One of the fathers was a stereotypical jackass sports parent. He just kept shouting and shouting. At the refs, at his daughter, at the other girls on the team. It was pathetic. He was never abusive, and he never used foul language, but he was SOOOOO obnoxious. We were sitting right beside him, too. Hubby has zero tolerance for idiots like that. So, ~snicker~ he started heckling the guy. Every time the guy would shout, "OH, COOME OUN, REF!" (That's how he sounded.) Hubby would wait for a foul the other way and say, "Oh, coome oooooooooouuuuuunnnn." But only loud enough for me and the guy to hear. He kept saying other stuff to the guy, too, but I was laughing too hard I couldn't hear it all. Hubby was very polite about it all (you know, as polite as you can be in such a situation) and the guy kept getting more and more flustered. He would point out missed calls and say, "Oh, come on, guy, you gotta give me that one." And, "I don't see how that was a double dribble. How was that a double dribble?" I felt especially bad for his daughter because he kept shouting conflicting directions to her. He'd shout for her to dribble around her defender and drive the basket when the coach had JUST called for her to run a play - she was the point guard. You could tell the poor girl was conflicted. She wanted to listen to the coach, but the dad was shouting at her across the gym. Why do parents have to act like such jackasses? If they want to be the coach so dang bad, they should sign up to be the coach. Otherwise, they should SIT DOWN AND SHUT THE HELL UP. Polite cheering and clapping only.  All they are doing with all that shouting and carrying on is showing their ass, embarrassing their team and their kid.Sorry, I'll climb down off my soap box now. |
| Every night about midnight, I get a tiny little visitor in my bed. She hops up onto the bottom rung of Chewie's Kittie Condo that sits at the foot of our bed and then up onto the covers. I usually hear her coming by the soft tip-tap of toenails on our hardwood floor. Once she tackles the tall bed - it's a converted waterbed up on an underdresser - she stealths her way up between Hubby and I and then gently touches her cold nose to the back of my neck if I haven't turned over to acknowledge her. If I have, I get little dog-breath kisses. Sofie has trained me to take her potty every night about midnight. Never mind that she is wearing a collar that lets her come and go 24/7/365. Oh, no. She wants Momma up with her and once I act like I'm getting up, she hops off the bed and goes and waits for me and my booklight at the top of the stairs. She'll stand there and look at me until I head down the stairs lighting the way into the dining room, over to the water fountain. Then she gets a little drink and heads over to the pet door. From there she starts her coy act, but I'm unwavering. She will sit inside the door, holding it open and glancing up at me as if to say, "Pleeeease, Momma?" When she was really little, (and the weather was warmer!) I would go outside with her. Now I just squat down by the door and hoist her little butt through it, telling her firmly, "Go potty, Sofie!" She runs out and squats quick like and then dashes back in (hey, would you want to take long in sub zero temps? ) for the REAL reason she comes and gets me in the middle of the night. The treat for going potty outside. Potty training is an uphill and constant battle.----------------- I went out and job hunted a little today. I was too embarrassed to go back to the one place, but I did have a brainstorm. Instead of relying on just the classifieds, I decided to take some of your advice to heart. I thought about where I would like to work and went to those places and asked if they were hiring. Several of them said no. But that's ok. One of them said yes! And it's my favorite bookstore.  I took an application and filled it out and I'm going to return it tomorrow. Thanks guys!! The hours aren't ideal, but I think I would really enjoy working there. I'm going to adopt a best scenerio attitude. You know, they want me and they will give me decent hours. ----------------- When I got back I started dinner. Sometimes I get stuck for dinner ideas and just make stuff up. (Do y'all ever do that?) Tonight we are having meat pies. I've been reading alot of fantasy lately and got the idea from there. I'm taking the yummy rolls I have been making and rolling a cooked hamburger meat mixture in it before baking them. I scrambled hamburger, spiced it and added onion for a little kick. I think I may add a little grated cheese, too. I'll just make the rolls the normal way until it comes time to shape them and then I'll roll them out and add the mixture and make a little pocket out of them. Then I'll let them rise the final time and bake them. Hopefully, yum. ------------- I drive an Expedition. It's our "good" car, and as such, gets to live in the garage. The thing is, it's so dang big, I have trouble gauging exactly where to park it in there. Our garage isn't exactly open space. We only have the right bay (the side closest to the house) open. The rest is filled with the flotsom and jetsom of our lives. We've got tools, toolboxes (hubby used to be a diesel mechanic), 3 sets of golf clubs, ice chests, an air compressor, saw horses, bicycles, an old motorcycle and even the the third seat to the Expedition - I don't like to have it in unless we have company, with just the three of us, why bother? Besides I can store more in it without the seat. All of that is in the other bay, on the house side is a little shelf with small kitchen appliances (like my crockpot) and trash bags. I have a big kitchen but not enough storage space, so the spillover goes into the garage. Also stacked against that wall are the dry dog food containers. There is EXACTLY enough space to put my Expedition in the garage and then open the doors and walk around it. No more. Periodiocally the crap starts inpinging in the parking area and we have to rake it back up against the walls. So that I don't drive on the crap and just because I'm a bit of a spaz, Hubby took an idea he got from his grandfather and adapted it for me. He took a wiffle golf ball, strung some yarn through it and hung it from the ceiling so that when I'm parked perfectly in the garage, the bright orange ball rests barely on the windshield right in front of the driver. Smart, no? His grandfather used a tennis ball. I just line myself up with the ball and pull in until the ball taps the windshield and I'm not so far in that I'm running over the crap in front of me, and (the real danger!) I'm far enough in that I'm not going to shut the garage door on the car. When I left and came back from job hunting, I pulled into the garage too far to the right. (I have a little leeway, but not much.) That put the ball on the left post that holds the windshield in. I didn't think any thing about it. I got out, gathered my crap and when I shut the door I heard a funny muffled crunching noise. Kind of like when you shut the seatbelt in the door, but not as metallic. I opened the door and checked....no seatbelt. Hmmmm. Odd. Oh, well. I shut the door and went on my way. Later I had to go out for a quick errand and as I got in, I heard that same funny noise again. What the hell was it? Oh, well, I was in a hurry, I'd mention it to Hubby later. Off I zoomed. As I was leaving our subdivision, I happened to notice a funny flapping in my side mirror. What the? So I roll down my window and look. Yarn, flowing out beside the car like a streamer on a little kid's bike. ~Click~ And the pieces fell into place. I opened my door and sure enough, there was the mangled wiffle ball where it had fallen in up near the windshield, right near the top hinge, and I had crushed it four or five times with the door. When I had pulled out of the garage, I had ripped the flimsy yarn out of the ceiling. Ooooops. I confessed to Hubby. He rolled his eyes and said, "Good Lord, I put the stupid thing there so you would know where to park, not so you could rip it out of the ceiling by parking crazy!" Hee hee. Parking when I got back from my errand was tense stuff with no guide. You'd think after nearly three years of doing it with the ball I'd know exactly where to park, but, um....not so much.  I did ok, but I think I'll take my little car until hubby gets my wiffle ball back up. I'm just afraid we are gonna have more snow, though and my 10 year old Contour isn't so hot in snow and ice.  Oh, well que sera sera. |
| But I guess I'm gonna. Don't you hate being a grownup? I do. I wish sometimes I could just drop off the grid, living how I want without recourse to bank accounts, mortgages, insurance payments, utility bills, the telephone/cable/internet companies and the host and legion of other vultures who come every month to pick the leavings of our hard earned dollars from our pockets as quickly as we put them in. Something of a Walden and his pond type of life. With free wireless, so I can talk to you people. And someone to bring me pizza and Chinese take out. (I'm not big on roughing it.  )The reason I'm whining? I have to go out and hook up with another job. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Cry you a river. I HATE looking for jobs. You'd think I'd be an expert at it by now, considering last year was only the second time in our marriage I've only received one W-2. The longest I've ever held a job is about 18 months. I'm just not one to hang in there for a long time. I'm not a career person. I kinda float through life. I stay at a job for as long as I am interested in it or until it pisses me off.At 35, I'm hardly likely to start a career. So, it's off to the Classifieds I go. Usually the jobs I keep the longest are the ones that fall into my lap. I guess I've been waiting for one to drop in it. Yeah, I know, not much of a life plan. I've been writing in the mean time, but nobody seems to be knocking down my door begging to pay me for my skills.I am heading off to the job I had to leave tomorrow to see if they will hire me back, but I'm not holding my breath. ~sigh~ I mean, yeah, the manager told me to reapply, but....still. So tomorrow I'll head out and be a grownup. Ish. My poor husband. How does he stand it? |
| Sorry, been a bit wild around here since we got back. We had a lot of fun in Vegas, but it was much too quick a trip. We weren't even there 48 hours. Hubby's birthday is coming up, though, so I did some advance internet scouting for fun things to do in the limited time we had. He's a big history buff, so I knew immediately when I'd found the right thing. At the Tropicana there is a Titanic Exhibition. Hubby is of two minds about the taking of items from the Titanic and then displaying them, on the one hand it's the only way to save much of the history that is being slowly claimed by the ocean, but on the other, it's a bit like grave robbing. But I felt that he would find the Exhibition interesting. I was right, it was incredible! I'm so excited that we went to it. He loved it, too. When you enter, they give you each a smal postcard sized ticket with the name of a random passenger on it. I had a first class passenger, Hubby had a third class passenger. We weren't allowed to take photos. The first few rooms are all about the conception and building of the Titanic. There are greenish rivets and portholes that are sheared and twisted from the wreckage. They even had a set of the whistles; they looked brand new. From there we walked into what seemed like the steerage section of the ship. It was a wide corridor and they had a three sided room that you could look into that was a reproduction of third class accomodations. They were so cramped. It was about a 10 x 10 foot room with two sets of bunkbeds on the side walls and then a sort of fold down platform about 2 and 1/2 feet square for them to set their luggage on. I guess it could be used as a desk, too. It was so small, you could stand in the middle and lift your elbows and touch both beds. It was weird. In the next room was a first class room which, honestly? wasn't that cool. I mean, yeah, it was WAY better than the third class, but not for what they paid. The third class paid what amounts from $450-$650 in today's money. Two of the first class passengers paid (in today's money) $78,000 for their suites! Can you imagine paying that for a week's lodging now?! Holy freaking cow! I mean REALLY?!We also got to go to the Grand Staircase and have our picture taken. Very fun. I won't post it, though, because I don't have permission for that. We were cute, y'all will just have to believe me. From there we walked out onto what seemed like the actual promenade, it was facinating to "know" that I was standing in a conference room in Las Vegas but to "think" I was walking along the railing staring out at a star filled night, sailing along in the frigid, iceberg filled, Atlantic Ocean. The air was cool and they moved the background imperceptibly so that it seemed the "boat" was moving. There were signs on the walls all throughout the exhibit to explain where we were in our journey. It was arranged chronologically. When we went "inside" from the promenade, there was a giant sign that said, Iceberg Ahead! And believe it or not, THERE WAS! They actually had an ICEBERG in the room. It was about 15 feet long and seven feet tall! And it was, you know....iceberg shaped. It was SOOOO COOOOL!!!! (Literally! )Anyhoo, the coolest was that they have recovered so many just random things. They had a display of money. Not just coins, but bills, too. And they are bills from before the US issued standard federal currency. No kidding! Way back in the day, local banks used to issue their own money. They were allowed to issue however much that they held in silver or gold in their vaults. So some of the script had things like " Guaranteed Bank of Philadelphia" on it, instead of Federal Reserve. How weird is that? The things that have held up best under the pressure and years under the ocean, strangely enough, are dishes. There were whole displays of different styles and sets. Besides what the passengers ate off of each meal, there were many sets in baggage and being shipped via Titanic. Strangest of all to me, was a whole field of serving bowls that were perfectly lined up in the sand row by row, not a chip or nick in them. There were probably five stacks of at least 20-25 of them all lined up neatly and standing on one end partially buried in the sand. What happened was that the wooden cabinet they were stored in fell over onto the ocean floor and once the wood rotted away, the dishes were left as they had been stacked in the cabinet, only neatly buried in the sand. The last room we went in showed a list of all the passengers separated by class and whether they lived or died. It was, well, enlightening, to see the separation. Only about 1/3 of the first class passengers died, while about 1/2 the second class and 2/3 of the third class and about 3/4 of the crew. (No, those aren't actual percentages, just my quick visual observations.) Hubby and I found ourselves on the wall (remember the tickets from the beginning?) and we both lived! We kept the cards, they told a little bit about our people and what we were doing aboard the Titanic in the first place. It was a wonderful exhibit and an incredible look at the past. If any of you have occasion to be in Vegas, I REALLY recommend going. |
| Sorry, this entry is just going to be a bunch of chickens about traveling. Bear with me. It's mostly stuff I jotted in my journal and didn't want to forget to tell you guys. Besides the poem, I kept it to a nice list of five for Scarlett. Seen as part of a wall mural in the food court area on Concourse E in the Salt Lake City Airport: Just before the Morning Rush Hopping out of bed and thinking about the one thing that will make the morning sun a little brighter that will make the birds sing a little more enthusiastically that will make the crisp air seem a little crisper that will make my day before the day even really starts I thought that was a nice bit of poetry. I've searched the internet, but I haven't been able to find an author to attribute it to. Here are some traveling questions Hubby and I have: 1) Why do they load airplanes from the front to the rear? It seems like it takes longer that way. Not to mention that the people seated have to get whacked in the face with the people making their way to the back's luggage. If you were to load the people in the back FIRST, then you could do it more quickly without nearly all the standing about in the aisle waiting for the bottlenecks that happen when people are shuffling overhead luggage about. Just a bloody thought. 2) Has the average American become so jaded (read that stupid) that they truly don't understand the terrorist concept? Or do all of the new security measures make them feel that much safer. If I saw it once, I saw it fifty times, people wandering off and leaving their carry on luggage just sitting there. They'd get up and go get something at Starbucks or get up and go to the BATHROOM. Or they'd be on their cell phone and just get up and wander away (sometimes 20 or 30 feet away) from their luggage. Hello!?! Jackass!! They have a pleasant voiced woman on a loudspeaker ask you NOT to do that about every 10 minutes. Because that's when people a) STEAL YOUR SHIT or b) PLANT TERRORIST DEVICES IN IT. I mean terrorist concerns aside, why would you leave what is an obviously NICE laptop in its pretty leather case just SITTING THERE UNATTENDED? If hubby and I weren't law abiding, upstanding citizens, we could have made off with some NICE STUFF! ~sigh~ Morons.3) Being the travel savvy person that I now am. (NOT. ) I have formed an opinion. I prefer to fly Delta over American Airlines. The planes are cleaner; the seats are larger and more comfortable, with more leg room; the stewards/stewardesses seem more polite and less inclined to be surly (even in the face of mounting problems) and the ticket counter people are the same. Just a personal observation.4) But I am curious.....Delta serves roasted peanuts on their flights. What is with that? I thought they all quit that several years ago. I was shocked to receive them! (They were honey-roasted and very yummy, but still......) 5) I am a air traveling jinx. First the debacle at O'Hare last Thanksgiving. And this time, we had trouble flying out of Salt Lake to get home. There was a heavy fog that extended roughly one mile in every direction around the airport, that was it. Nowhere else. It didn't show up until our flight got there from Vegas.  Spooky, no? We were going to get bumped to a flight for the following day, but Hubby said "Hell, no." So we did some scrambling and finally flew standby on the next flight home. It took some OJ Simpson in the airport maneuvers (Do y'all remember that commercial? It was before he became a murderer and was still doing Hertz rental car commercials. ) Fat chick CAN run! We were the last people onto the plane, they closed the door behind us! LOL Happily a guy changed seats so that we could sit together. We still haven't seen our luggage, but I have faith it will show up eventually. I'm telling you I'm a Jinx! We had a lot of fun and I'll do an In Vegas entry later. I also wrote quite a bit while we were gone. It was all a lot of fun, but too, too short. (((Hugs))) to you all. Glad to be home. |
| I'm having a Bad Momma moment. Last night, Monilad was playing in her second basketball game of the season. She and another girl were tied up with the ball and the ref wouldn't blow her whistle. They struggled for about 20 seconds. (That's a REALLY long time.) Monilad finally won the battle, but lost her balance and fell backward onto the gym floor and struck the back of her head. It was one of those weird slow motion moments where for some reason it was really quiet in the gym. It sounded like a watermelon striking the floor. I immediately jumped up out of my seat, but Hubby grabbed me and made me sit down. He told me, "Let her coach handle this. She'll be embarassed if her momma goes running down there." FINE!She just laid there. The ref called her coach over when she didn't get up and then the pricipal came over and the girls were all sent back to their benches. I kept popping up and down like a jack-in-the-box and Hubby kept pulling me back down. Finally Hubby went out there. The blow apparently had stunned her. Hubby had her open her eyes and he checked her pupils for obvious concussion and then helped her get up and he checked her head. She has a pretty big knot on it that came up right away. Luckily she had her hair up in a pony-tail that absorbed some of the blow. She landed SO hard. We gave her something for a headache when we got her home and Hubby kept checking her and we got her up several times last night and checked on her, but she called me this morning from school with a terrible headache. So I picked her up and took her to Urgent Care. It's a mild concussion. He gave us a script for Vicodin for the pain and told her light practices for the next week and NO games. (She had 3 this next week, she is SO bummed.) So I called her coach and gave him the news and brought her home for the rest of the day. Why the Bad Momma feelings? 'Cause she's hurt and we are abandoning her with a sitter for the next two days.  I know there is nothing I can do for her even if I were here, and I know she'll have fun with my friend, but...still. My friend isn't the Momma.Besides which, I keep adding things for my friend to take care of while she's here. Now she has to be in charge of a concussed child. I had told her this gig would be easy.Well, I shouldn't really be on here, I'm not even packed. But I did want to get my 500 words in today. For the next two days I'm going to have to write them in my journal. I hate not being able to type them. On a positive note, I had another breakthrough on one of my novels last night and while I was at the game, I wrote almost 1500 words in my journal and then typed it up when I got home. I just wrote when my baby wasn't playing. They were creaming them anyway. The final score was 45-23. Yea Us! Monilad's teammates kept asking her, "What is your mom doing?" "She's a writer; she's probably working on her novel." |
| I am happy to report that Hubby is sick. Why would I be weird enough to be happy about this, you ask? Hubby came home today and reported that he nearly passed out at work today. He said his heart was pounding wildly the whole time. HA!!! Double HA!!! Now. While I'm not happy the poor man is sick, I feel vindicated. I want to take him to my doctor and to the ER and parade him around like a science exhibit. Strangely enough, it was Hubby who first broached the subject of this all being some sort of crazy virus. (Which, if Hubby has it, too, it must be!) I feel kinda bad, the only time the poor guy EVER gets sick is when I give him exotic viral infections that leave the doctors scratching their heads. The last one we spent over $500 in blood work alone for them to tell us it was....something viral. Gee. Thanks. Well, I have no idea what this little adventure has cost besides my job, but I'm glad I'm seeing the well side of it. I just hope he feels like going to Vegas. He says that he's fine and that since he knows it's a virus and not to worry about larger heart related issues, then it's no big deal. Sure...work out all the stress on me. |
 This morning Hubby got up and made waffles with chopped walnuts and whipped cream. Yum! I'm so spoiled. My tummy is feeling better today. I've been feeling kind of cabin fever-y the last week, so yesterday we all got to go to a movie for a couple of hours. We also made a quick trip to the library to replenish my book supply. It was good to get out of the house for something besides a Dr. visit. We went to see "A Night at the Museum" with Ben Stiller. We all enjoyed it VERY much. It was one of those that the whole family can enjoy and that as we left our daughter said, "Can we buy that when it comes out?" Yes...we can. It got three  and  from us.While I've been home I've been watching alot of TV. I hate daytime TV and won't watch it, but I love TLC, the Discovery Channel, the Science Channel, the Military Channel, the History Channel, the Biography Channel and the NASA Channel. It's so exciting to me to watch things in the International Space Station. I also just love learning. Did y'all know that they are moving toward retiring the Space Shuttle Fleet? They are gearing up to unveil a new reusable Fleet of ships that will be similar in design to the Apollo Fleet. They have the bell look to them, but they are larger to hold a larger crew for a more extended time. They will be designed to land on and take off from the moon. They won't land in the water on return to earth, but instead will land on the ground with large air bags that will deploy out of the bottom of the ship. NASA has plans for the next lunar landing to take place in 2020. I know that sounds like a long way away, but when they go, they will be scouting it with an eye towards a lunar colony. How cool is that? They want to research and see if there are any exploitable resources available on the moon to aid in setting up a lunar colony. That could happen in our lifetimes. A lunar colony. How flippin cool! I think to all of the Ray Bradbury I've read and realize exactly how far man has come. He wrote much of that before man had visited the moon. And then I think to all the Star Trek I've watched and think how far we could go yet! |
| And feeling sorry for myself. I've been really bad this whole week. It should have been a bonus writing week and I should have burned the keyboard up with writing since I wasn't allowed to go work, but somehow, I've just sat around and been depressed and angry. I've watched alot of TV and read alot. I'm angry because while the doctors agree something is the matter with me, they can't figure out what. Like my bipolar, I have some unquantifiable...something...wrong with me. The tests and diagnoses have ranged the gamut from heart problems to acid reflux to viral infection. My blood tests all check out fine, my Holter moniter (I spelled it wrong the other day...misheard them, it SOUNDS and LOOKS like a halter, but it's named after the fellow who invented it.) numbers came back fine, I've never run a fever, and we are still waiting on my Echocardiogram results. He put me on Nexium in the event it was my acid reflux - something about it aggrivating my Vega (sp?) nerve and exciting the heart and causing the chest pain - but that gave me worse nausea and even vomiting and (sorry) diarrhea. I know...TMI. In the meantime, I'm sitting at home having dizzy spells and being banned from driving or working. So....there goes my new job. After five days of being gone, it's company policy to automatically terminate employees. They were very apologetic because they know I'm not just some slacker who's not showing up, but...it's policy. If I had worked there longer, I could have applied for medical leave, but after only one day, they got nothing for me. Bye bye new job.I worked one seven hour shift there. The store manager was very nice to me and told me that she was very impressed with me in our interview and that when I sort this out she would like me to reapply, but I don't know....I think I would be too embarrassed. I would always be the fainting slacker who didn't help with the hard work of moving the merchandise in. Besides which, today marks the seventh day this crap has been going on and while I'm feeling better, I still had chest pains and nausea and the whole business. Maybe it is a viral thing and I'm just not running a fever. If it is, I hope it's over soon. We are supposed to leave for Las Vegas on Wednesday night. It's a quick trip from Wednesday through Friday that Hubby's company is sending us on. If I can't go to Vegas I'm gonna be SOOOOO PISSED. I LOVE Vegas. I'm looking forward to sitting and playing the penny slots, watching Hubby burn up the poker tables, dining at 5 star restaurants, GOD I can't WAIT. This trip is gonna ROCK! We are going to the Star Trek Attraction again! The only thing I'm really sad about is we won't have time to see Wayne Newton. I hear he gives a great show. One day. ~sigh~ OOoooo, I hope we have time to go see the pirate show down on the strip in front of Treasure Island. Those are some HOT pirates. I don't swing that way, but even the women are hot. Seriously. And this show happens RIGHT on the strip! It's TOO cool. When we went last time, Hubby had three days of classes that he had to attend and I was alone for 6 hours at a time. I was too afraid to leave the hotel, so I had alot of time to just hang out in the casino. Each morning I would sleep in and then go down to the lobby and get breakfast from this little coffeeshop. A fabulous croissant and a latte. And I'd take it down to the Sportsbook and eat. That was my favorite place to just sit and hang out. Nobody bothered me and there were about 20 televisions on that I could sit and watch as long as I wanted. Where else in the world could a single woman sit with money in her purse for 6 hours a day safely and not be bothered? There were plenty of penny slots near the Sportsbook that I would get up and play periodically and every time I did, a cocktail waitress would come by and offer me a free drink. I never paid for a soda the whole time I was in Vegas. It was great! I could spend all six hours that way...between the Sportsbook and the penny slots, I usually got out of the day for about $20. And let me tell you...that's CHEAP in Vegas.I'm really excited now. I forgot how much fun I had last time. Now I just gotta start feeling better. And QUICK. Thanks, guys. Y'all always know how to cheer me up. |
| I'm not fine. I'm OK now, but Saturday night right when we got ready to go to bed, I started having heart palpitations and chest pains. Sooooo.....off to the ER we went. Lots of tests - an EKG, 2 Chest X-rays, a round of blood tests, and being hooked up to little monitors. They told me I was fine. But, I wasn't allowed to work Monday or Tuesday. And I had to go get checked out by my regular doctor first thing Tuesday morning. Hubby was a little freaked out. So Sunday and Monday, I wasn't allowed to do anything around the house. Nothing. ~sigh~ It was either be in bed or sit in the recliner. That was it. I had several episodes of dizziness and what the ER Dr. called "syncopations" in my heart ryhthm. It goes really fast and then goes really slow. But no more passing out. I also get some mild nausea sometimes. So today I went to my regular doctor first thing. He hemmed and hawed and ran more tests. I got sent home with a halter monitor. It's like a portable EKG. You wear it for 24 hours and it monitors your heart the whole time. He doesn't think it's a heart thing, though. So, nobody panic, ok? (That's what I keep telling my husband.) He also set up an appointment for me for a cardiologist on Thursday. I have to have an Echocardiogram. Yeah....I'm excited. More tests. So...sorry I haven't been around. I haven't really felt so hot. I'll keep you guys posted. ((((hugs))))) and and thanks for the good wishes. |
| Today was my first day on my new job. It was not an auspiscious first day. I didn't sleep well last night. I had a mini-migraine so I couldn't get to sleep. I was a little loggy when I got up this morning, but Hubby helped me out. I made it in with about 25 minutes to spare, so I thought I'd run by my favorite breakfast place. This place is incredible. They are a local outfit, they ARE the little red hen. They grow the wheat; they process the wheat; they make the most incredible baked goods. I had a Ham and Swiss Croissant. It's my fav. And a small caramel machiatto. (sp?) I've had it a thousand times with no problems.So I get to work and we all clock in and then the safety classes began. We were most of the way through the ladder safety portion of the morning when I passed out. Yup. Smooth out. Flopped to the floor like a day old carp. In front of God and 40 co-workers twenty minutes into a brand new job. For the record, yes, I had breakfast; yes, it was protein; and, no, my knees weren't locked. One minute I was listening to the safety talk and the next thing I know, two of my co-workers (whom I later found out work Search and Rescue in Yellowstone in the summer so they are EMT trained) are checking my pulse and breathing and asking me what day it was. It seems I was unconscious for about 5 minutes. Just checked out to the world. It worried them so much that they called 911 and Fire and Rescue AND the ambulance came. When I came to, they had pulled a pillow out of a box and put it under my head and pulled a comforter out and covered me up. My GAWD.I wanted to die from embarassment. While I was out, my breathing was very shallow and my pulse was under 50. After I came to, (once the real EMT's arrived) I felt fine. The HR lady brought me juice and water and they let me sit up. When the EMT's got there, they took all my vitals and they were all fine. Pulse 84, blood pressure 110/85, and I don't remember my blood sugar, but it was fine, too. I signed a form and refused to go to the hospital against their advice. I asked the store manager if I could work the rest of the day, once I got over wanting the earth to open up at my feet and swallow me. She let me, but they wouldn't let me on a ladder. When I went down and they called 911, of course they called my husband. BUT, my husband was home today and wasn't answering his work cell (which is the number I gave as his emergency number). After I was ok, they called him back and told him I was ok. At lunch I called him to tell him I was ok, but he was sleeping; I didn't want to worry my daughter, so I just told her to tell him to ignore his cell messages and that I was fine. He didn't get my message, (teenagers ) so he called the store to check on me at about 2 which is when he checked his cell messages. He was kind of panicked. He doesn't handle my being ill very well.So...I have tomorrow off to get over the embarrassment, and then I get to go back on Monday and see if I can live it down. Hubby says if I so much as look funny tonight or tomorrow, it's off to the ER for me. ~sigh~ Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'M FINE. Aside from being terminally embarrassed. |
| Setting and plot. I go around thinking about those things alot. I don't think about them consciously, but I find myself thinking about them subconsciously all the time. I'll think, "wow, wouldn't that make a great mystery story!" And then I'll jot it down on the spot or tell it to myself several times so that I remember it when I get home. I think about jobs for characters to have, I think about settings for scenes to happen in, I think about scenarios in my mind. All while I'm shopping, banking, checking books out at the library, having lunch, going around doing normal middle age housewife things. Underneath I'm thinking, "Hey! What a great place for a murder!" I'll pass someone in the grocery store and then surreptitiously (I hope! ) follow them around for 15 minutes while I jot down on the back of my grocery list their characteristics and mannerisms while they innocently shop for frozen peas and potato chips. Hey...I can't help it if they would make a great murderer! Or lover. Or postman on page 29. Or whatever role I need them to fill. My husband can't figure out why it takes me so long to shop when I'm alone. When we are together, I fly though the shopping. I've never confessed my dirty little secret, but I sense, somehow, he wouldn't have the patience to stalk my potential characters through the baking aisle. Or the postal line. Or the historical fiction section. Or plumbing fixtures. Here's an example of my mania. In town, on the corner of one of the main streets and the interstate, there is a prime plot of land. On it is a half finished motel. It has the skeleton done, the roof is on, but no siding, only sheetrock. The sheetrock is peeling and stained and some of the lower windows have been vandalized. There are "For Sale" signs all over it and a story to go with it. Hubby is in construction, so he is privy to some of the backstory. Apparently, the guy who was building this thing ran out of money halfway through the project about 3 or 4 years ago. He got so far on charm and promises before his contractors wanted to start seeing the color of his money. Now the property is so tied up in legalities that no one can afford to buy it. It would take too much to pay off the creditors. I think there is also some question as to who really owns it. It's all very shady. Hubby has actually been in it, he said that at this point so much of it has been exposed to the elements that alot of it is rotten and would have to be replaced or it would mold, that whoever bought it would have to raze it anyway. All I can think is WHAT A PLOT!!! And a great little place for a murder. |
| I know there was some spirited discussion about my decision to write a romance novel the other day, but I was quite serious. Serious enough to pull out a copy of something I bought about a year ago on a whim. It's called "Writing Romance Fiction for Love and Money" by Helen Schellenberg Barnhart. It was published back in 1983, but the advice it holds is still pretty sound, I think. I was perusing a used book store here in town and found it for $1.50 and thought, "what the heck," and bought it. At the time, the most I thought I'd get out of it might be some general writing or publishing tips, romance fiction being one of the furthest things from my mind. I dusted it off and delved into it last night, though and I followed some of the exercises in it today. Some of them are things I honestly never thought about! The one that's really been the most helpful, and, to be truthful, the one I don't think I'd have thought of on my own, has been to take and dissect a romance novel I like and see what makes it tick. And when I say dissect, I mean down to the bones. It asks questions like: Overall Structure of the Book - How many pages does the book have? How many chapters? What was the average page count per chapter? Note the number of paragraphs per page. I never would have thought to do that on my own. I mean, honestly, I just read the dang things, don't you? I never thought to look the underlying structure of a book. You just write and the paragraphs, pages and chapters just take care of themselves. Right? NOPE. I know that from when I did NaNo. NONE of my chapters in my NaNo book are even SLIGHTLY the same length. I'm all over the board on them. From 3 pages to 15 pages. It's maddening. Heck from just the little of this book I've read, and the exercises I've done, I can go back and make some staggering edits on my NaNo book. It also asks you to look at things like: How soon are you introduced to the hero? When was the conflict between the hero and heroine introduced? How was the conflict revealed? Through the characters thoughts? Action? Dialogue? I could probably stumble into this on my own, (and stumble certainly describes my earlier efforts) but by dissecting several existing books, maybe I can figure out if my timing is right or if I'm introducing him too early or late. Or if I need to get into my characters heads more. I suppose some of you more seasoned people think I'm a ninny for not figuring this stuff out on my own or for wanting to follow a formula, but hey....if they've gone to all the trouble of figuring out what sells in this genre, why should I have to trailblaze on my first effort? And for those scoffers out there....romance fiction accounts for:  $1.2 billion in sales every year 54.9% of all popular mass-market fiction sold 39.3% of all fiction sold54.9%!!!! Tell me again that you don't want a piece of that number. I do. 'Cause I gotta be honest, I'm looking to quit that day job I just got. (These numbers were taken from https://www.rwanational.org/eweb/StartPage.aspx ) |
| Well, I went to orientation for my new job. I'm kinda excited. It seems like it would be a nice company to work for if I get hired on full time in a couple of weeks. I'm not gonna count my chickens, though. I'll just do my best and play it by ear. I guess they have a huge problem with internal stealing, though. Because while we are loading in the merchandise these next couple of weeks, there were a lot of very specific rules and regulations that seemed like they felt we were all a tad on the shady side. 1) For the two weeks, everyone comes and goes at the same time. Period. You get there early, you wait in the foyer and no one goes out into the store until the store manager unlocks the doors and we all go in together. Same thing with leaving. It's a group activity. 2) That includes lunches. There will be 45 minutes given for lunch break and everyone must leave the building for lunch. No exceptions. Go have lunch in your car or something. You CANNOT stay on the sales floor during opening. 3) No purses, bags, parcels, or winter coats will be allowed into the store while we are loading it. Leave the bags and purses in your car. Coats will be allowed into the foyer, a table will be provided for them to go on. 4) There will be an appointed security person on duty in the foyer from the time we get there until we all leave, every day. If needed, we and our belongings will be subject to search by management. 5) Once the store opens, ALL purses, bags and parcels WILL be searched EVERY SINGLE TIME you leave the store. Period. Every single employee. Including the store manager. It's company policy. Yikes. Trust much? Other than their security issues, they seem like a nice company. And I recognized some of the people I was in orientation with. Including one of the higher level managers from Walmart. He heard this place was opening and he ditched Walmart in order to go with someone with a better employee relations track record. (He's over 55 - and I gathered Walmart was trying to squeeze him out because of it. ) I'm kind of excited about working with him because he was always VERY nice. I hope we both get hired. He's alot of fun to work with. The hours will be slightly different than what they told me, but I'm glad of it. They said 8:45 to 6 and instead it will be 8 to 4:45. With the new hours I'll be able to make some of Monilad's basketball games. The middle school girl's basketball up here started last week, and she's up in the thick of it. But she has crack-smoking hours to keep now because of it. There are too many of them to wedge in the gym all together, so they have to stagger their practice times. The season is only 6 weeks long, so they practice every day. Her team's practice times are every morning at 6:30 before school. All I can say is her daddy likes her a lot more than I do, because he's the one getting up with her and taking her every day. Actually he's usually up anyway, but he's the one taking her. I don't like her that much. Truth be told, they are both happy I stay in bed, cause I'm a real bear in the mornings. And neither of them is brave enough to poke me through the bars of my cage. She just sends Sofie in to hop in bed with me when she's ready to leave. Sofie LOVES it. She gets up, socializes with Hubby and Monilad, goes out into the frozen wasteland that is our backyard and does her business and then comes in and hops in bed with me, burrowing under the covers so that she can stick her cold paws and nose on my side or neck or back of my leg. I think she likes to see me levitate. Then she curls up and she and Bear and I sleep until a decent hour. It's all quite civilized. I guess when I start my new job on Saturday, we won't be able to sleep in quite so long. I'll need to get up about the time they leave the house so that I have time to slug down some decaf and turn into a real person. I understand it's bad form to growl at your coworkers on new jobs. |
| Lately I've been reading a lot of what my mom calls "bodice rippers." My sister calls them "Sally Wetpants books." They are usually the Harlequin Romance Novels or the Silhouette books. I've been reading them at least a book a day. Not because I think they are great art, although, they aren't horrid, but because of some of the blog entries I've been reading lately. (It's all emmyloo's fault. I swear she has some kind of weird alien mind control over me. )I've decided that there's gold in them thar bodices. Women eat these things UP. Admit it, ladies. You've all read at least one of these dang things in your life, right? Men...ask your wives/significant others. I bet you 100 gps they've read at least one in their life. Everybody 'fess up. Let's see a show of hands! At my library, they have a whole section devoted to these things. You are allowed to take as many as you want as long as you jot down how many you took. I sat and watched the old ladies the other day flock to this section. They were walking out with double handfuls of these things. I checked the little piece of paper where you jot down how many you took and they were taking 14 and 15 at a time! I asked the librarian about it and she said that most of these old ladies buy a bunch and read them and then bring them in and drop them off and then take away that many again, all in a two week period. $$$$$$$$$ I did some recon at Walmart the other day and they have all kinds of sub-genre's for these things. Intrigue, Inspiration, Men of the West, Red Hot Reads, American Series, European Millionaires and on and on. I got one of the Intrigue and one of the Inspiration. The intrigue was pretty much what it said. It was a muder mystery with a torrid love affair in the middle of it. The inspiration was something completely different, though. It was a Christian based chaste love-thing. They admired one another from afar and aside from one steamy kiss, they just spent all their time being tortured with one another's closeness. Plus she spent the whole book trying to convert him. (It had a plot, too, and was pretty good, but I could have written it.)And I guess that's my point. These things aren't great works of art. Heck, I could write at least as well as most of the ones I've read. Actually, a darn sight better than some of them. Do any of you remember the Lethal Weapon (I can't remember which one.) where Danny Glover all of a sudden is flashing all the cash? And it turns out the wife is a romance writer? I wanna be like that. I even have a psuedonym all lined up. I just have to learn to start dropping words like "turgid" into my writing and be able to do it tastefully.  |
| I swear they are. Bear and Sofie are in some kind of devilish plot to do me in. And never think for a minute that just because Sofie is a puppy that she isn't in it up to her cute little floppy ears, because she is! Lately I've been leaving Sofie out of her kennel while I run errands. And when I get back, she (I just know it's her!) has dragged scores of sticks, twigs and bits of shrubbery in through the damn pet door and chewed them to tiny pieces all over my carpet! I have to pick them up by hand or sweep the carpet with a broom because I'm afraid to use the vacuum on those bits of wood. I just know it will tear it up.Bear is in on it, too. We live in a split level house. Now that I'm home all day (Except when I'm running errands and having the all outdoors brought in. ), neither dog will leave my side. They both weave in and out of my feet, especially when I'm trying to walk up or down the stairs. And if my hands are full of baskets of clothing, well then ALL the better to trip me! Sofie is so tiny she gets tangled around my ankles and Bear is big enough to nudge me just above the knees, perfect for throwing me off balance.At night, they try to do me in by leaving lots of little dog toys all over the stairs. I swear I pick them all up before I got to bed, but if I have to get up in the night, everytime, I have to check the stairs because sure as anything, the stairs are a mine field of squeaky toys! I've fallen down them twice in two weeks. Hubby and Monilad never seem to fall victim, only me. So, I'm sure I'm the intended. I just know these vicious attacks are being directed at me. Hubby laughs it off and says that I'm just clumsy, but he isn't home with the two plotters all day long. He doesn't know the depths of their wiliness. All I know is that they'd better watch it, or I'll spike their kibble! |
| Made you look! I just have to take a sec and thank emmyloo again for turning me on to baking. Yesterday I made some seriously yummy rolls. They are big, fluffy and soft with a slightly crunchy crust. My daughter's opinion was, "You have mad baking skills, Momma!" Hubby's take was, "These things are so good it's sick!" Yea me! I didn't know I could bake, even. (You know, besides the odd cookie recipe. ) But, it's really fun, kind of calming. You can just empty your mind and ideas come while you are kneading the dough. I had a slight miscue with the roll recipe earlier in the week, though, and I had to call my mom to find out what I'd done wrong. It turns out that when you deal with yeast, you have to be careful with the temperature of the water you use. If it's too hot or too cold, you kill it. I didn't know that and once I got the dough all made, it wouldn't rise. I was left with a sticky lump of non-rising goo. But once I sorted that out, I made the yummy buns. I made them about the size of the palm of my hand, perfect size for sandwich making. See, I made the buns for a special reason. In the summer, Hubby smokes several extra brisket and we freeze them, for that taste of summer when we are freezing to death in the depth of winter. Last night for dinner we had brisket sandwiches on warm, fresh baked rolls. A little barbeque sauce, a little cheese, a little red onion, a side order of red beans. All that was missing was grilled corn on the cob. Double, triple YUM! ~sigh~ I love food. |
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