First of all, I've completed all outstanding CP reads, which means I get to go back to drafting! Wheeee! Since it's been a few weeks since I actively worked on the WIP, I decided to read through from the beginning to make sure I remembered all the necessary details. There were only 30 pages or so, about 7500 words, so it didn't seem to be much of a burden. Of course, once I started reading, I started editing. I can't help myself. By the time I stopped last night, I'd written another 700 words. So that project is getting off the ground like a zeppelin: lumbering and floaty, with just a hint of hot gas. I take that all to be a good sign of progress.
My cat has a fondness for bubble wrap. I heard a weird crinkling noise, and found him popping the bubbles with his teeth. So that settles it. EVERYONE likes to pop bubble wrap.
Right now there is a barred owl sitting atop my chimney, hooting. It sounds like he's in the fireplace. It's kind of awesome, actually.
I covered the back of my new phone with glow-in-the-dark stars, but I keep forgetting to leave the phone face down to "charge" them up with light. So I haven't actually seen them glow yet. Sometimes I seriously disappoint myself.
I have now had two separate conversations on twitter, with two different people, that incorporated the phrase "scallop gonads." I blame Stephen Colbert.
Snowquestration was a serious disappointment. We got several inches of snow, but it never stuck to the ground, and turned to slush almost immediately. At least I never had to shovel anything. And it's supposed to be near 60 by the weekend. So there's that. Lousy Smarch weather.
Can anyone explain this to me? This has been bugging me for YEARS. I have flannel sheets on my bed. Really heavy, thick flannel. I also have a fuzzy blanket, one of those microplush jobbies that feels like thick velvet. Needless to say, the flannel and plush tend to stick together like velcro. You can almost hear that ripping noise when you pull them apart. All that being said, HOW does Helper Monkey always end up with all the sheets, while I don't have enough to cover myself? At least he leaves behind most of the blankets. Somehow, in his sleep, he can overcome the laws of physics, negate the friction between the sheet and blanket, and pull JUST THE SHEET until it hangs down to the floor on his side of the bed. Since he usually sleeps during the day, and I sleep at night, I'm pretty convinced that black magic is involved. I reset those damned things every night. I just have no idea what he does in his sleep. Any thoughts? Remember, this is for SCIENCE.
We made pancakes for dinner the other night, and this is one of Lulu's favorite meals to help prepare. She likes flipping them. The two of us were in the kitchen yammering on and on, and Helper Monkey was trying to watch the news in the next room. The tv got progressively louder and louder, and so did our conversation. Eventually, he gave up, came into the kitchen, and went on a little rant about how all he could hear was us talking and singing. I can't even remember his exact words (something to the effect of BLAH BLAH BLAH BUBBLES BLAH BLAH MUTANT BLAH BLAH ALBONDIGAS BLAH *and yes, this post was edited to include Albondigas, which is Spanish for meatballs. Apparently Lulu and I were going on and on about albondigas), but Lulu and I spent the next five minutes laugh-crying while the last pancake burned. I love my family.
Cookie season is almost over, which means the temptation of boxes and boxes of Girl Scout cookies lurking out in my truck is nearly gone. If someone wants to take the rest of these off my
I know there was one more blurb I wanted to write, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it was. I'm sure it will come back to me eventually. If it does, I'll add it to the list. I vaguely recall it had something to do with socks. Strangely, the Lost Untweetworthy vignette is the one that prompted me to start this post in the first place. Ain't that always the way.
And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming, which is basically me hiding out with my laptop, hopefully writing and staying off twitter. Which means, I'll see y'all on twitter real soon. Urg.
In the meantime, please enjoy this sloth sinking the Titanic.