A Grand Day Out

I've been trying to get to local author events and book signings lately, especially now that Lulu is beginning to explore the YA genre, which I read a lot of, and is also showing an interest in writing. *quiet, nonthreatening squeeing from me* *wouldn't want to frighten her out of the Writermobile*

When I learned that Maureen Johnson was coming to speak at the Bethesda Library, I knew Lulu would enjoy it. *and yes, I knew I would enjoy it too*

Thursday nights are Family Night around here, since it's Helper Monkey's only night off work. We try to do something together, as a family. I asked him if he'd mind if I took Lulu to this event, and he responded that he'd actually like to come with us. I was pleasantly surprised.

Helper Monkey grew up in Bethesda, and it's also where we met 17 years ago. It was a little trip down memory lane for us. As a bonus, a friend of his works at a great Lebanese restaurant just a few blocks from the library, and he's been asking us to come for dinner forever. The plan was for us to go to the event, and then have a nice dinner out.

I half expected him to simply tolerate the book event. He's not exactly the YA book target market. Sure, he'll read a Harry Potter, or a Percy Jackson, but that's about the extent of his forays into books for non-adults.

I am now 100% convinced that Maureen Johnson is contagious, or possibly emits some sort of radioactive mutation field. In the best possible way. Helper Monkey was absolutely delighted by her, and is now following her on Twitter. He's going to read Name of the Star when he's done with whatever it is he's reading now. My reaction:



So the family had a lovely time. Thanks to Maureen, the Bethesda Library, and Politics and Prose. :D

Once we were done, we went for Lebanese food at Bacchus. Oh. My. Commas. It was a feast. Let's just say I wished I'd worn a skirt with an elastic waistband. On the plus side, I ate a lot of tomato slices in cucumber sauce. Nom! I apologized for stealing all the tomatoes, claiming I was in the middle of a Tomato Jones. For the rest of the evening, the family referred to me as Tomato Jones, and suggested I write a series of detective novels starring this new character. Perhaps, Tomato Jones: Sliced and Diced.

There was this:

Then there was dessert. This custard was flavored with honey and rosewater. I would like to marry this dessert. I told Helper Monkey I was leaving him for it, and told Lulu she should learn to love her new father as much as I do.

Unfortunately, I ate it all, so I decided to stay with Helper Monkey. At least until next time...

There was also Turkish coffee and baklava. Noms.

I haven't eaten that well in...years, probably. All the noms.

All told, it was truly a grand day out.

Why you need a Helper Monkey.

No, you don't need an ACTUAL monkey, like this little guy (but isn't he cute?):



If you're a writer, you might even consider this one:



But, no. I meant my big Helper Monkey, which is what I call my husband. Let's be clear. He calls himself monkey because he's got arms like an orangutan. Don't bother asking if he can reach something. He can reach it. And he totally gets my writing life.

We were discussing the weekend plans, since Lulu is going camping. I was scheduled to chaperone the trip, but I'm not needed, so I get a whole weekend to work in a quiet house. Helper Monkey cheerfully suggested I'd have a lot of free time to write.

Since I just finished my draft on Tuesday, I replied that I'm finished writing. I planned to read for CP's instead.

His completely non-sarcastic and supportive reply: You're never finished writing.

It took all my strength not to throw the laptop down and tackle hug the man. He gets me. And I love that.

This is also how I feel about everyone I share my writing journey with. CP's, beta readers, twitter friends, blog readers. My heart grew three sizes this morning, and I'm all full of gushy love that needed to go somewhere so I could go back to being bitter and withdrawn.

Now it's yours. Go pass it on to your own helper monkeys. It's these little things that inspire me to keep going every day, so that I really never will be finished writing.

If you have a story like this, where a few simple words made you realize just how lucky you are, please share it. I'd love to have a big repository of squishy lurve to turn to when I'm feeling less writerly than I need to. Thank you!

The Art of Compromise

Right. So I've known my husband, the Helper Monkey, for nearly 17 years now. We've been married for 15. And every once in a while, I learn something completely shocking about him. Sometimes it leads to snort-drooling laughter.

 

I decided to make pasta for dinner tonight, since I forgot to make up a shopping list for Helper Monkey to get the ingredients for @Fizzygrrl's crock pot curry recipe. This sort of mental lapse is typical. We eat a lot of pasta as a result.

So, I ask the Monkey and Lulu what kind of sauce they want. I have two jars, one regular marinara type sauce, and one of vodka sauce. Vodka sauce is one of my favorites, by the way, so I consider it a treat whenever I make it. I was personally leaning toward it, and had convinced Lulu it was the option to choose. Helper Monkey did not agree.

For the last seventeen years, I've made vodka sauce countless times. I knew it wasn't his favorite, but he always ate it with minimal grumbling. I don't know why tonight was any different, but The Truth has finally come out. Turns out, Helper Monkey equates vodka sauce with vomit. Lulu promptly renamed it Vomit Sauce, and hilarity ensued.

I laughed at his response, but then realized he was completely serious. This made me laugh harder. I was stomping around the living room with the reviled sauce, wondering how anyone could repeatedly eat something that they equated with puke. I have no idea why I found this so entertaining, but I was literally floored. I fell to my knees, laughing so hard I was drooling, all the while berating the Monkey for keeping his vitriolic hatred a secret so long. The mind boggles. Truly, if someone served me something I didn't like once, I'd probably eat it and be polite. I might mention that it wasn't exactly to my taste if they suggested they make it again. If they tried to foist such horror on me a third time, I'd put my foot down. There is no way in hell I'd repeatedly eat something I detested for seventeen years without opening my fat yap and screaming. No. Way. In. Hell.

The Monkey knows I like it, so he never said anything before now. O_o

Hello, people?! Compromise isn't about torturing yourself to make someone else happy. It's about having your needs met while also meeting the needs of others. Sure, I eat foods that aren't my favorite, but I do not eat foods I hate. I feel like I should bake the Monkey a cake. He's apparently suffered greatly in my culinary equivalent of Guantanamo. I'm pretty sure he likes chocolate cake, but I think I'll ask first, just to make sure...

I'll say one thing for sure, I am now eternally convinced of the Monkey's love. He suffered in silence all this time for me. Granted, I'd rather he'd have told me, but shoot. I can't be mad about it. He did it for love. :D

 

How far would you go to keep your dearest love happy? Would any of y'all really go this far? What's the nuttiest thing you've ever done for love? Or, if you're one of my writerly friends, what have you made your characters do for love? I'd love to know.

Gratuitous Fun from the Maryland Renaissance Festival

We had a blast today in 1514. We saw Macbeth performed in 19 minutes (with an under 20 minute guarantee), hysterical performers dueling with swords, and an elephant! I never did get that glass of mead, but they make it at the winery near my house, so it's not like I'm never going to get any ever again. They had every type of food you can imagine served on a stick. Except soup, but that was served in an edible bowl made from bread. Cheesecake on a stick! Omnomnomnom!

So here's a little peek at our day. Enjoy!

Henry the VIII and Catherine of Aragon. Lovely.

I covet this hat. This is Helper Monkey's arms. He was a very helpful monkey today.

See, this hat is perfect for me.

This is a t-shirt that I was going to buy for Helper Monkey. He must have this. I was out of cash by that point, and I wasn't about to wait in a 50-person-deep line to use the ATM. If anyone knows where I can buy this shirt, I will love you forever. Thank you!

Lulu perusing the selection of Dragon Snot. Seriously, that's what the sign says. Note her fez, because fezzes are cool.

Speaking of cool, I wore my TARDIS t-shirt, and had about a thousand compliments. I've never gotten more than one or two remarks in a day on it anywhere else. This proves once and for all that I am truly a geek, and at home amongst the nerdiest people. I'm pleased. We're a nice bunch, if a little odd.

The main event is the jousting. For those who didn't know, jousting is Maryland's official state sport. Weird, huh.

The main culinary event. Best. Food. Ever. So not kidding.

So there you have it, the highlights of our day. :) Hope y'all had a nice weekend, too!

Food, Kitchens, and Cooking

Okay, I understand that I talk about food all too often. I can't help it. Helper Monkey works at a grocery store, and we talk about groceries at least three times a day. I assume most people do. For some reason, today was particularly food-centric for me. Here I attempt to rehash the most relevant moments of foodiness from today.


Saturday, Sunday, and Monday I worked baseball games, and the guilt of not being home for dinner three nights in a row was starting to get to me. My poor family had to get by on pizza, breakfast-for-dinner, and the like. Last night I cooked. It was nice for me, too. I'd been living on french fries and chicken fingers at the park.

Today Helper Monkey and I watched Hell's Kitchen, thus starting the food fuss. It all went downhill from there.

Before dinner, I exchanged an increasingly dyspeptic series of emails with Fabulous Crit Partner, Feaky Snucker, about disgusting foods. This chat centered around beets, in particular, and why we both think they are The Devil's Food. Now that I'm settled in with a therapeutic bowl of ice cream, I can discuss beets without feeling the need to hurl. It was not the best topic for pre-meal conversation, though.

Also, while making dinner, and yet again being blinded by steam fogging up my glasses, I wondered if there were any professional chefs who wear glasses. I wonder how they manage. I mean, I really only cook one meal a day, and it drives me bonkers to be periodically blinded while handling boiling hot things. It leads to a fair degree of physical injury.

While I cooked, we discussed the fact that one of the chefs on Hell's Kitchen professed a dislike of cilantro. Helper Monkey hates the stuff. I tried to convince him that it had a respectable place in cooking. Let's just say the conversation devolved comically to the point where Lulu chimed in that we were acting in a fashion unbecoming parents. I think it was my "OH NO YOU DIDN'T" comment that pushed her over the edge.

I asked the Monkey what Pad Thai (a dish he loves) would be without a little cilantro. He answered, "Better." "OH NO YOU DIDN'T!", to which he replied, "UH UH GIRLFRIEND!" etc. etc.

The conversation went downhill from there, to the point we were quoting Geoff Peterson and doing the Secretariat dance. Lulu observed like we were an exhibit at the zoo. She's our own personal Jane Goodall. Someday I'm sure we'll be the subject of an academic paper. Or therapy.

Luckily, I can go back to editing now. I think part of my problem is lack of sleep. I was up until 1:30 last night revising, and then up at 6 am today. Food (and caffeine) is about the only thing keeping me from slipping into a coma right now. And on that happy note, back to editing.

This little snippet of my fascinating life has been brought to you by the versatile herb, cilantro. Suck it up, Helper Monkey!

Research + Family Field Trip = Psycho Squirrels FTW

The Helper Monkey was offered a week's vacation from work. He jumped at the chance to chill for a week at home, and decided we needed to play a little home-town tourist. I also needed to do a final bit of research for the novel I just finished editing (again), and wanted to make sure my memories of a few DC locales was accurate. It wouldn't do to screw up references to the National Archives or the National Gallery of Art! So we took the Metro downtown yesterday and had a Grand Outing.

For the most part we had gorgeous weather. Needless to say, we're sore from walking. Here's our itinerary (and a good excuse to use a lot of pictures):

Metro to Union Station.

Walk across the Capitol Grounds, check out the Grotto (and get a drink at the water fountain).

Dodge the Crazy Ranting Guy on First Street by detouring a block out of our way.

Hike to the National Museum of the American Indian. It was our first visit there, despite having walked past it a dozen or more times. Helper Monkey had been wanting to go since it opened. His Great Grandmother (about whom we know almost nothing) was a full-blooded Cherokee, and he's part Mohawk on his father's side. It was a wonderful experience for him to share that part of her heritage with Lulu.

In the gift shop, we found these adorable little skeletons. We had a lot of fun in gift shops.

 We ate lunch in the Mitsitam Cafe at the American Indian museum. May I say, FABULOUS FOOD! We had buffalo chili. Yum.

After lunch, we decided to take care of my business, and head over to the National Archives. We took a last minute detour through the National Gallery to look at the DaVinci and some of the Dutch Masters. I particularly liked this tiny detail in one of the paintings:

In case you can't tell from the picture, it's the inside of a building (a church?) and depicts a gray dog raising its hind leg against a pillar. Those crazy Dutch Masters!

We crossed the street to the Archives, but weren't allowed in. They were experiencing a power outage, of all things! After seeing National Treasure, I suspected someone was actually trying to steal the Declaration of Independence. My conspiracy theories and I had some time to kill, so we went over to the Sculpture Garden to make sure I didn't mess up any of the details in my book. And no, I got everything right.

For anyone who has read Running Down The Dragon, these pictures are for you:

The Gate where Thalia parks at the end is on the left behind the silver cars. The building on the right is the Archives.

headless zombie statues. Imagine what they'd look like in the dark, illuminated only by police car lights.

The Fountain.

Me, with the Rabbit version of the Thinker.

By the time we got back to the Archives, they were letting folks in again. Out of all the metal detectors and security guards we had to walk through yesterday, the hardest to get through was at the Archives. And the guards weren't very polite. Just saying. Unfortunately, they don't allow photography inside, but it was just about the most interesting exhibit we saw. Absolutely fascinating.

After the Archives, Lulu expressed an interest in visiting the American History museum (she loves the Star Spangled Banner and Abe Lincoln's hat). While on the way there, we walked past the Natural History museum, and detoured inside because Helper Monkey hadn't been there since the animal halls were updated. I had him take a picture of me with the Okapi. It's a strange yet adorable animal. It's the closest living relative of the giraffe. I call it Sexy Pants.

Me and Sexy Pants

We also got to touch a piece of Mars!

We resisted imitating the Curiosity Rover and shooting this rock with lasers. Pew Pew!

After the animals (and a visit to the Hope Diamond), we finally arrived at the Star Spangled Banner. We saw Lincoln's hat. Unfortunately, the Ruby Slippers were not in their usual display hall, which was being renovated. We saw a lot of other interesting things. And then headed outside for the long walk down to the Vietnam Memorial. It was warm and sunny all morning. Not a cloud in the sky. Of course, the moment we stepped outside for the outdoor portion of our day, it began POURING RAIN. We huddled under a tree. It proved to be an ineffective canopy.

The rain let up, so we walked past the Washington Monument, at which point it began pouring again. By the time we arrived at the WWII memorial, we were soaked. We kept going, and passed this bizarre sight: A squirrel wrestling with a tree branch.

The squirrel was also being watched by a duck. Duck just stood there staring, until he saw us watching him, at which point he HEADED STRAIGHT FOR US! Gah! We ran for it. I don't want to mess with crazy ducks. Crazy squirrels, sure, but ducks? No thank you.

Then we had a long walk back to the Farragut West metro station. We would have had an easier trip home if we could have managed the additional couple of blocks to the Farragut North station, but we were about to drop dead by that point.

If you managed to get all the way through this post, you'll realize that there wasn't much to the whole day. It was a lot of fun, with a couple hours of research thrown in. The moral of the story is that I get to write off the whole trip as a business expense, because I took some photos, confirmed some plot lines as being plausible, and made sure the climactic scenes of the story worked as I wrote them. It was absolutely necessary for me to check, and the only way to get information about the inside of the National Archives is to actually go there.

I also got a few ideas for an upcoming contest related to RDTD. Oh, and a great idea for a logo that I should have designed a long time ago for the characters who work for the shifter division of the U.S. Government. Wheee!

So, have any of you managed to get a fun day out with the family and accomplish this much research all at the same time?

Brain, 1; Forgetting the name of that song, 0

A few weeks ago, the Helper Monkey was watching something on tv. I was happily sitting in my comfy chair writing, or editing, or reading. Whatever. What I was doing doesn't really matter. The point is, I heard a song I recognized. It was a bit of classical music that I knew I'd played at some point in my life, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was called. I blanked.

I SHOULD have known what it was. I mean, I could PLAY it for you, but I couldn't NAME it. At least I was sure it was composed by Bach. The arrangement used in the background of the tv show was a string quintet (two violins, viola, cello, and guitar). I was pretty damn sure I did not play that particular arrangement (since I've never played with a classical guitarist), but other than that, I could not place the music.

I put my computer down, stomped over to the sofa, and hit the record button on the remote. Now at least I'd be able to listen to the song on constant repeat until I remembered what it was.

Fast forward a few weeks. Between summer camps, editing, and catching up on everything else, I'd completely forgotten about the song. Last night I was clearing off the TiVo (read: watching a lot of tv). At the bottom of the list of recorded shows was the show with That Song. I watched it again. I listed REALLY CAREFULLY. And then I dove head-first into google searches.

Long story short: I FOUND THE DAMNED SONG!

And I'm humiliated to admit the title now. It's only one of Bach's most famous snippets of music. And I played it when I was in high school. The Third Brandenburg Concerto's final movement.




Victory is MINE!

In other news:  Lulu comes home from Girls Rock camp today. I'm leaving for the airport in just a bit. I can't wait to see her! We've only got two full days at home before we're off again, but I'll be glad enough for two days of normality before we go.

You'd think I'd be glad to have a quiet house for a week, but no. Every year when she goes, I fall under the delusion that I'll get so much done while she's away. I'll clean out the closets in the guest room! I'll reorganize the garage! I'll write fifty thousand words in a week! I WILL DO ALL THE THINGS!

What do I get done every year? A lot of moping. To be fair, I worked at five baseball games this week, so that took up a lot of my free time. Then I got sick. Then it was Helper Monkey's day off, and we had a nice morning out together. Then I spent most of last night on the insane musical quest, and watching lots of tv. At least the TiVo's empty now. One thing accomplished.

 And now, TO THE AIRPORT! Wheeee!

I saw this, and it changed my life.

Three words for you: Cowboy. Monkey. Rodeo.

Yes, those are monkeys riding border collies. Yes, they are herding sheep. They did a remarkable job of it. The best part is, they really like it.

Second best part: Last night was Helper Monkey's birthday. He was in the stands. You can kind of pick him out in the second row all the way at the far left of the picture. He's one of the blurry blobs in a white shirt. Trust me, Helper Monkey enjoyed the show. Full article on the insanity here.

It's hard to stay cool in 100 degree heat

Obvious, right? But I'm staying cool for now. It's only 88 so far today, but it's supposed to hit triple digits. There's some great news to balance out the face-melting, hair-poodlifying weather, though.

The best news I've had in a while came yesterday around dinner time. I spent most of the day busy with stuff and things. I was feeling a little sad that Helper Monkey's vacation week was passing so quickly, but I was determined to enjoy it as much as possible. Then the major revelation hit. Helper Monkey let me in on the secret. Yesterday was WEDNESDAY! I spent the entire day thinking it was Thursday!

In one brilliant, shining moment, I experienced time travel! I gained a whole day! Even if it only happened inside my brain, it was a brilliant feeling. I can't even describe how happy I was.

But now it really is Thursday *checks calendar to be sure*. Yes. Today is Thursday. It's like Groundhog Day! But I only get to have two Thursdays this week (one of which, I know, was technically Wednesday, but humor me, please).

Unfortunately, the combination of heat and humidity does horrible things to my hair. This is Hat Weather. I look like a cross between Jimmy Neutron and an electrocuted poodle. During the winter, I can make my hair nearly straight. In summer it always looks like I had a drastic haircut combined with a bad perm.

So what do you do to avoid melting into the pavement on days like today? Helper Monkey has invented Oven Day Fun Time. This is similar to Rainy Day Fun Time, without the joy of putting on a bathing suit and running around the yard through a downpour. We play a lot of games. We watch movies in the basement, where it's always 15 degrees cooler than upstairs, and today, we might go bowling. Duck pin bowling. A.K.A., the GOOD kind of bowling. But I'm only going if they assure me their A/C is working, and currently blasting out snowflakes in addition to cold air.

Tonight, and I do mean late tonight, we might head over to the pool. We've only been a couple of times so far this year, and I have a feeling it will be as warm as bath water tonight. Maybe we can bring a few drinking straws, blow bubbles, and pretend it's a huge Jacuzzi.

Oh, and the editing is going like blazes! Sorry for the heat-related metaphor. Okay. The editing is going like water in a waterslide. There. That's more refreshing, right?

I'm half way through chapter two, and finding bits and pieces that need to be rewritten or moved elsewhere. I waited too long to explain a few things about the world, and I'm moving them closer to the front of the book. All this edity-wedity stuff is so thrilling! And I sincerely do mean that! :)

I love watching the story I love get better and better. :)


 I hope everyone stays cool today. Keep Cool and Have a Frozen Lemonade!

***Edit: It's easier to stay cool when I can sit in my chair and scroll through Tweeties. Also, Twitter is back now! Yay!

Let's Play a Game, how about, which finger is the band-aid on? Answer: All of them!

Well, well, well. It's been a very interesting couple of days. I was going to start with the most telling moment and make this post all clever and sophisticated by then "flashing back" to all the correspondingly nit-witty moments of the last few days, but I'm all out of clever.

The First Bad Thing: Our living room TV crapped out for no discernible reason. Lulu was watching Spongebob one minute, and nothing the next. We tried for about six hours to figure out what was wrong with it before we finally gave up and brought out Ye Olde TeeVee from Lulu's room, and put the newer, albeit dead, unit on the floor. The 20-year-old tv has a bizarrely blurry picture, but then again, I think I was just used to looking at HD. The 10-year-old, yet dead, tv wasn't HD, but it was more than 10 years younger than the ancient beast we're using until we buy a new one. It's amazing what 10 years of technological advancement means in a TV.

Okay. I was upset about having to shell out a few hundred bucks for a tv this week, but I was getting used to the idea. Then last night Helper Monkey was leaving for work, and came back a minute later. His "Check Engine" light was on, and he wanted to take my truck to work. Fine. I know he needed a tune up, and I even knew why his check engine light was on. I'd been putting off tuning his Jeep for a month or so, but I knew last night I couldn't wait any longer. I'm not fond of mechanic work, but I'm competent. I just don't like to get that greasy. So this morning, I loaded Lulu into the Jeep, and we headed off to the auto parts shop.

Sidebar for a moment here: Tomorrow is Father's Day, just in case y'all forgot. I have to work the baseball game (which inexplicably, I just typed as "basebally game"). We'd been planning to order pizza tonight, and Helper Monkey proclaimed his desire to have a beer with his pizza. I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone and get beer while I was out getting auto parts. Helper Monkey was unaware that I'd severely depleted our beer stockpile over the last week or so, and I couldn't have him disappointed on Makeshift Father's Day. We also needed to make a stop at Dairy Queen, because that's how I managed to bribe Lulu into coming out with me.

So we went into the store, bought spark plugs and wires, but I couldn't convince the guy working there that the Jeep did, indeed, require two PCV valves, so I have to go back and finish the job another day. I didn't feel like standing there arguing with him, though, so I took my purchases and headed off for alcohol.

I bought a case of Guinness Black Lager for the Helper Monkey, swung by Dairy Queen (which I keep wanting to spell "Diary Queen"), and we headed home. My hands were full of auto parts and beer, while I trudged toward the garage refrigerator to deposit the bottles. I got the fridge door open, and then the handle on the case ripped and the smashing commenced. I nearly cried. All that Nectar of the Gods, gushing out onto the concrete! Forsooth!

Sad.

Luckily, only two bottles of the 12 smashed. Still. Sad.

Even worse: Trying to rip the box apart to salvage what I could before the entire garage flooded with Guinness, I ripped open my finger on one of the broken bottles. I didn't even realize I was bleeding until I got into the house and couldn't figure out why my hand was still wet.

Oh, and this morning, I cut a different finger on a can I was rinsing out for the recycling. So I have matching gashes on each hand.

Okay, so I came inside to let the engine cool down enough to work on, and we ordered pizza. The pizza was great! Every story needs a little break in the tension, after all. Pizza makes for a great break. STET.

After dinner, I headed out to do the tune-up. It should take about 40 minutes. It SHOULD take about 40 minutes, but I'm a ninny. I got 5 of the 6 plugs and wires replaced, but the last one just WOULD NOT COME OUT!!! I cursed the Chrysler corporation for putting the last spark plug right up against the alternator. What ding dongs.....oh. Right. I have a wrench attachment to go around corners that fixes that problem. Which I only remembered after ten minutes of wrench wrestling, cursing, wailing, and grumpiness.

Still, Chrysler put the battery in the way of replacing the right headlight. You actually have to remove the battery to change the wee tiny light bulb. Ding dongs. So I feel justified in cursing them, even though I had an easier solution to my current problem at hand.

The Jeep runs like a dream now.

I have a picture that I only realized the true magnitude of when I looked at it later. I wanted to send my step-father a picture of the offending spark plug that caused the fault, but the defunct TV is on the floor in the background.

I am the queen of Defunct Things.

When I was done, I was informed I needed to wash up before I was allowed to touch anything. Before I started work, I put a band-aid on my owie finger. Can you guess which finger that was?

Hint: It's the one that looks different.

So that ended up being the Helper Monkey's father's day. He gets a like-new car (with 218,000 miles on it), pizza, beer, and a frazzled, injured wifey. Oddly, it works out for us.

Now I hope the people at the ball game tomorrow night don't think my hands are still dirty when I serve them beer. It's 100% impossible to remove All The Grease in one day.

If only I could write this many words on my WIP today! That would be a true miracle. But seeing as how the Helper Monkey will be up in about 15 minutes, and it's his first day of vacation, I figure I should hang out with him tonight.

#b22k will have to wait

For those unfamiliar with #B22K, this is the creation of Lindsay Smith. She explains it on her blog here.

The idea is that you find time for writing every day. That you make time for writing every day, and set goals. In this case, the goal is 2k words. I started off the challenge with the best of intentions and the worst timing. I keep swearing to get more written every day, and then the fates conspire against me with finger injuries, car maintenance, and smashy beer.

I WILL write more. Dang it. Just not tonight. I need a nap now.

Progress-o-Meter:
Words: 54,145
Pages: 179

Last and First (and 100th)

It's the last day of school here, and the first day of summer. The last day of 6th grade for my daughter, the first day of being a 7th grader. I feel so old. I can't believe the tiny little bundle that once made me cry because she wouldn't stop crying long enough for me to eat dinner is half way through her standard education. Yikes!

With that note of nostalgia, on with the updates.

Last night we went bowling for Family Night. We haven't been tenpin bowling in years. For those who are unfamiliar with the bowling habits of the Mid-Atlantic Region, we have something called "Duck Pin Bowling" here, which is a lot more fun, in my opinion, than regular old bowling. Duckpins are shorter, fatter, and bouncier than tenpins, and the ball is the size of a large grapefruit. You also get three balls per frame, and a strike is exceedingly rare. It's a game of spares. A fantastic duckpin average, like for the top players in the country, is in the neighborhood of 145. So I don't feel as bad that I can't break 100 as I do when I bowl tenpins. In fact, no one has ever, in history, bowled a perfect game of duckpins.

I also think that Wii Bowling has completely ruined my form. But that's another matter entirely. Excuses, excuses. (My fingernail broke! I'm tired from donating blood still! My shoes are too slippery! Whaaa!) I was so bad, the kid nearly beat me, and she doesn't weigh much more than the ball.

Anyway, on the way home last night, we drove through some strange weather. A narrow line of horrible storms passed overhead, and quickly rinsed the whole world down in our path. We chased the clouds most of the way home, and were treated to some lovely views of the brightest rainbow I've seen in a long time.

Tomorrow is a big day for us. We're going down to the National Mall to celebrate Girl Scouts Rock the Mall, along with about 200,000 other people from around the world. It's the 100th anniversary of Girl Scouting this year, and the Guinness Book of Records people are going to be there. We're going to try to set a record for the most number of people participating in a sing-along. It should be fun.

This is also my first trip into the city in a couple of months. Last time, I wanted to go into the National Archives, but we ran out of time. I don't care what happens this time, darn it, I'm going in there. Sure, it's awesome to see the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, but part of the novel I'm querying right now takes place inside the building, and I'm eager to double-check that my memory of the place isn't faulty. It's been a couple of years since I was inside, and I just hope I wrote everything accurately. I'm pretty sure I did, but it's still something that's been bugging me. It will be a relief to just walk through the parts of the building I wrote about.

I have one more day of alarm clocks, and then I'm free for four whole weeks before I have to set another alarm. I'm very pleased about this. I am NOT a morning person. In fact, most of my writing is done late at night, and I'm really looking forward to getting a lot more done on my WIP once I don't have to wake up early every morning.

 So I suppose that's all for now. I've been so busy with the boring necessities of life for the last few days that I haven't been writing. This is probably starting to sound old. More excuses.

I think part of my problem stems from the fact that I'm now working on the third novel in a series. I'm querying the first, but the Helper Monkey thinks the second book is actually better than the first. Still, writing something than may never see the light of day is a little disheartening.  Granted, I've only sent out a few queries in the last couple of months, what with revisions, contest entries, and other things making me hold off on querying. Now so many agents are closing to submissions for the summer, I feel like I should just keep writing now, and then go back and maybe edit the whole series again when I'm done.

More circular work lies ahead.

So for now, I'll just keep writing. I don't know how to do anything else. Even if it never gets published, it's still what keeps me going. And it still makes me happy. In the end, that's what I started writing for in the first place. I never intended it to do anything else. I never wrote a single word for another person. Every last keystroke has been for my own sake, not for anyone else. If anyone decides it's worthy of publication, more power to it. Until then, I'll keep my sanity and just keep writing.

Blah blah blah (in the teacher's voice from Peanuts cartoons)

This is sort of how I've been interacting with the world for the last few days, and I just realized it. This makes me sad, and yet relieved.

I tend to get a little dissociative when I'm under a lot of pressure, or when the pressure finally breaks and I can take a few deep breaths. Right now, I'm under a lot of pressure in one area of my life, but another huge burden is about to be lifted. Without going into the tedious details, it's enough to know that the odd combination of things going on has led to a mild state of depression. Not sadness, it's more like my body and brain go into a sort of static hold pattern.

The good thing is that I noticed it. Sometimes I don't, and it just gets worse and worse until Helper Monkey things he's living with a 5'7" slug instead of a human being. By the time I've completely turned into a puddle of goo, he'll point out the goo is starting to leak all over the floor, and maybe I want to consider doing something about it. He's lucky this time. I'm already mopping before he even realized the goo was oozing.

Battling back from the doldrums is hard. I don't want to do it. I'd rather wallow right now. That won't help anyone, and there's still stuff to do, and that pressurized situation is ongoing whether I want it to be or not. I have to get jumping on it. So that's what I'm doing today. I'm making sure the whole world doesn't fuzz out, that things keep getting taken care of, because if I don't do them, nobody will, and when I finally come out the other side of this funk, Bad Things will be waiting for me if I shut down completely now.

Sorry if this doesn't make much sense, but this post is my personal pep talk. It's sort of working, so thanks for bearing with me.

In other, more human news, yesterday was a wash because the new Anita Blake novel came out, and after reading 20 books in a series, you kind of feel obligated to read the 21st. So I did. It took up most of the day, but I'm glad I read it.

Over this past weekend, I beta read for a Twitter friend, and LOVE LOVE LOVED her concept and characters! Thanks so much, Tamara, for letting me take a sneak peek at Moondreamer! And of course, being me, I can't wait for the sequel...to an unpublished beta read....because there must be a sequel! :)

So much reading, but little writing this week. It is the last week of school, and then Saturday is the 100th Anniversary of Girl Scouts, and the huge Rock the Mall event in D.C. So I get to go sing campfire songs with 250,000 other Girl Scouts. After that, no alarm clock for FOUR WEEKS! Yay! Four whole wonderful weeks of sleeping until I'm done. I won't have any idea what to do with myself. Probably, I'll write a whole lot more, since I won't be so freaking sleep deprived.

That will be good. And hopefully, the rest of the world will come back into focus soon. At least I know it's blurry now, though, which is a huge step up from yesterday.

Blood and other necessasry things

Every 112 days, I'm eligible to donate blood. I'm tall enough, heavy enough, and A-negative enough to qualify to donate Double Red cells. This is not a regular blood donation. It's the super robot high tech blood donation. And it makes me LOOPY. I apologize in advance if this blog entry is less-than-sane.

They hook me up to an apheresis machine, which sucks out a regular unit of blood, spins out all the red blood cells, mixes the leftover bits (plasma, white cells, etc.) with some bizarro chemical, and then shoots the liquidy bits back into me. Then it repeats the entire process (draw out a unit of blood, spin, mix, return the dregs). It takes about an hour, makes my lips and nose tingle (that bizarro chemical's reaction), drops the body temperature (it's COLD in the Red Cross, and having two pints of 60-degree plasma shot into you in under an hour is chilling), and makes me woozy for a few days.

I hate feeling short of breath from climbing a single flight of stairs. I'm not fond of the lethargy. But then again, the person or people who benefit from my blood probably aren't fond of being in a hospital fighting for their lives. I figure my day or two of wooziness is a fair trade for someone's life. Especially knowing that my blood is usually used for premature babies and infants with chronic illnesses. Definitely worth the wooziness. And I got free cookies!

So if you aren't a regular blood donor, please think about going out this week to give a pint. It takes less than an hour, and you'll get free cookies. Oh, and you might save someone's life.

Only 5% of the eligible population actually donates regularly, and the donor center I went to today was deserted. It kind of makes me nervous to think if my life were on the line, there might not be any blood for me. My blood type is rare enough that I do worry about it once in a while... So if you're one of the rarer blood types, especially, please think about making donation a regular part of your life.

Plus, doesn't this look awesome? (squeamish people, please hit "page down" a couple of times right now)

Going Out

Coming back

Thanks for listening, or reading. Whatever. Loopy, remember?
END PSA.

So I finally managed to buy a ton of food that pleases both the Helper Monkey and Lulu. I was all set to put a roast in the crock pot this morning before going off to get loopy. But apparently I started out pre-loopified this morning, and I totally forgot. So, tomorrow we have the roast. Last night we had salmon steaks, corn on the cob, and taters. Starch city, but it was good.

Tonight, I was absolutely too whacked to cook, so we had pizza. The loopy continued, with Mr. Happy Sriracha Sauce Pizza Face Man.

Doesn't he look happy? He did, until I ate his face. Tasty!

Okay, where was I? Right. I've been Writing Actual New Words! Hooray! I hope they're not as kooky as I feel, but they actually exist, which is more than I can say about most of the week's writing progress.

Helper Monkey now has a new alert function: The Warning Siren of Distraction. Next time someone offers me a lovely gift that will clearly become an obsession, he's supposed to slap me on the back of the head like Gibbs on NCIS. Hopefully this tactic will work.

I'm not sure if it's a function of the bipolar disorder, or if I'm just a smidge OCD as well, but when I'm presented with a project that has a definite structure (such as a scarf to crochet, or a book to read), I tend to drop EVERYTHING ELSE, nearly to the point of forgetting to eat and sleep, until said project is complete. It's a Bad Thing. It's probably the Worst Thing, in fact. Anything that keeps me from writing regularly causes a backlog of the kinds of obsessive mental problems writing helps me deal with every day.

As much fun as it was to do something different for a few days, I'm suffering all around for not writing. But now I'm back at it. And oddly, I have a new idea for a new book, completely unrelated to the series I'm working on right now. We'll have to see if it goes anywhere, and I really have to get the first draft of the WIP done before I start anything new. Otherwise, I'll be stuck in a much larger version of the cycle of distraction I was trapped in for most of the week. Finish one project, then start the next. It's the only way I can work.

I'm completely envious of people who can work on two separate novels at the same time, but I just can't handle it.

Does anyone out there currently have two Works in Progress? I'd love to know how you juggle them both, or if you have a schedule for writing two works at a time. How do you balance it? How do you keep everything straight in your head? Just wondering. If you have a good strategy for managing it all, I'd be willing to give it a try... *frantic scanning of the room, waiting for the Gibbs Head Slap*

So that's it. Back to work! And it's now far enough out from the blood donation that I'm allowed A Happy-Ass Drink.

Progress-O-Meter:

Words: 52,458
Pages: 174

Strange Food Issues and Other Obsessions

My family is hard to cook for. Strangely, it's not the 11-year-old that has the food issues. It's the Helper Monkey with the sensitive tummy. Poor Sad Monkey!

I can't cook with peppers, and onions are only used sparingly. Chicken is boring. He's sick of pizza and pasta. That leaves me with few options on busy nights. I rely on stir-fry with rice or noodles a lot of nights because I'm too busy to cook a more complicated meal. Unfortunately, he hates this. Unfortunately, Lulu loves it. Her favorite snack is sliced bell peppers. I guess I should be glad she loves the vegetables, but I have to control myself because Helper Monkey would live on meat and carbs if I let him.

Dinner last night was a breaking point. I made a stir fry with chicken and veggies (leaving out the peppers and adding a bit of onion to balance out the flavor). Lulu loved it, I ate the whole thing, and Helper Monkey picked at it with disappointed chagrin. Again, Poor Sad Monkey!

I asked what I can make that doesn't take hours, but would be satisfying and tasty. I was told "Pot Roast." So today I head out to the grocery store for slabs of meat and bags of potatoes. I was also told to buy more fresh fish. My complaint about that: you have to use it THAT DAY. I am NOT going to the grocery store every day for fish, even though I'm on board the more fresh fish bandwagon.

So that's the current dilemma. At least I had a cure ready for last night's dinner faux pas. I took Lulu and the Helper Monkey to Dairy Queen. DQ fixes everything.

Birthday Cake Blizzards!

In other news, I finally finished the scarf made from the gifted yarn. I complained that I haven't been writing, and it was starting to get to me in a bad way. Once again, the Helper Monkey pointed out what should have been obvious. He watched me accept the gift of yarn, and only told me last night that he knew it would cause this problem. He knew I'd let everything else in the world fall by the wayside until I finished the yarn project. He's promised to warn me next time someone tries to give me something nice, so I can politely decline the gift in favor of keeping my sanity.

I have a little problem that once I start something, I MUST SEE THE ENTIRE PROJECT THROUGH!!! I have a hard time letting things go, and I'm limited in how much I can multitask. When something like a beautiful skein of yarn comes my way, I'm incapable of focusing on anything else until the project is done. Sort of like reading a new book. I can't write until I finish reading. It's like throwing a wrench into an engine.  I have to spend a whole day taking the engine apart and carefully putting it back together instead of just pulling the wrench out and starting it up again. If I start something, by goshen, I'm going to finish it.

The Scarf of Glorious Obsession. At least it's purty.

So with that inspiring philosophy, I've got errands to run this afternoon before I get back to writing tonight. And tomorrow, I get to go donate double red cells to the Red Cross. To anyone who needs A-negative blood this weekend, you're welcome.

One last thing before I go: I had a weird moment this morning when one of my sister's books, Sex Made Easy, was featured on the local news this morning! Yay!

Profile Not Found

My computer delivers this error every day, at least once a day. I have no idea what it means, what program is missing its profile, or why it insists on showing me this message every single day.

I was initially concerned that I'd been logged out of something by mistake, that the computer forgot who I was, or that programs would start crashing left and right without the proper profile. That was months ago. Every day in the early afternoon, this message shows up. If anyone has any idea what the heck it means, I'd love to know. Otherwise, I stopped caring months ago.

I saved up a week's worth of errands, and finally had to go out today. Of course, since I was finally at the point where it was either go shopping or have buttered toast for dinner, it didn't matter that it poured rain today. I had to go out anyway. I don't mind running errands in the rain, if those errands don't result in eight shopping bags full of heavy things that need to be ferried out to the truck and then into the house in the deluge.

I also had to buy some craft supplies for Lulu's history class project about Greek gods. I had to buy supplies to build a mountain (for Gaia to live under, of course), and things to make a rainbow (for Iris to shoot up into the sky). Craft stores are evil. They make me buy tons of things I don't really need, while allowing me to forget half the stuff I went in for. Ceramics glue, anyone? I forgot to buy it. But I found several types of bee appliques and buttons to sew on Lulu's t-shirt for camp. All the counselors get to pick a cute nickname, and she's Bumblebee. Now she'll have bees all over her camp shirts.

Target is another store where I forget what I went in for but end up buying $60 worth of random crap. Actually, I got a good deal on a new sleeping bag. I hated my old one, since it was one of the "mummy" style bags that don't allow for leg movement. I'm getting antsy just typing about not being able to move my legs. I'll be back to finish this in a minute. I gotta walk around for a minute, and maybe find a paper bag to hyperventilate into...

Okay. Deep breathing helped.

And I bought food. But I forgot to bring my shopping list for Chuck Wendig's Faux Pho, which makes me mad. On a side note, I highly recommend the Terrible Minds blog, unless you are constitutionally opposed to swearing. Or fun. I have about half the ingredients, but tried to remember the remainder of the list. I gave up after a few key ingredients weren't even available at my regular supermarket. Strangely, the Helper Monkey works for that same grocery store chain, but at a much more urban store than the one where I shop. My store's Asian section consists of about two feet of shelf space, 80% of which is different brands of soy sauce. No hoisin sauce, no fish sauce. At least they sell Sriracha.

Helper Monkey's store has half an aisle devoted to Asian foods. He'll definitely have everything, in multiple size packages, six different brands, and also low sodium, gluten free, and sugar free varieties, I expect. I have to make up a list for him to buy all the things for me. I passed a Vietnamese restaurant today, and I was dying for Pho, but I didn't have time to stop. Now the Pho craving is approaching critical mass, and I will self destruct without spicy noodle goodness.

So, as you can plainly see, today was carefully crafted to prevent me from writing. Again. I've been reading the last few days, but not writing. And the writing will have to wait another few days, again. Just when I think I'll have plenty of time to write, something comes along and makes itself more important, or at least more urgent. I have to stop thinking that. It's my own fault for not writing, and I can't blame a busy schedule, or other pressing things, no matter how important they may seem, or how important I can make them seem, for my lack of focus.

I think part of the problem in this case is I'm puzzling over the next scene. I haven't puzzled this much over a book since the first novel I ever wrote. This is the fifth. I should be able to write through the rough patches by now without the wailing and tearing of hair. It's getting a little ridiculous. The first book in this series went from 0 words to query in about two months. The second, in another four months. We're talking multiple drafts and revisions on each of these, including critiques and advice and updates. I'm stuck at the half way point in this book, and have been for a week. It's making me insane. And this is just the first draft!

I put it on hold for a week to do revisions on the first novel, and was relieved for the chance to step away for a while. Now that I don't have an editing project to focus on, I'm taking on other work in order to have a legitimate excuse not to work on it. Either something is inherently wrong with the story, or I'm flummoxed as to how to get from point a to point b. I know there's a way, but the tone and setup of this novel is so completely different from the first two, I just don't know how to proceed. The first novel is a pretty straightforward paranormal thriller/serial killer hunt. The second is a weird romp through fairyland and the underworld chasing down escaped demons. Lots of action, go go go stuff.

This novel is a kidnapping case, and the stakes are pretty high--a lot higher than any of the characters realize yet. And for some reason I can't translate that to paper. And in the next scene, one of the bad guys, who isn't actually all that bad... well, let's just say it's bad. I've been putting off writing that scene for about two weeks. I know it has to be written, but it's just a horrible scene. Something my characters are going to regret. And it must happen. But Idonwanna write it!

So on that note, I'm going to go TRY to write that horrible scene. I have to at least try. Or what good am I? I may as well throw in the towel on ever publishing anything if I'm not willing to force myself to write something uncomfortable. Something I really, truly don't want to write.

The work I'll actually get paid for will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm putting on my writer hat. And on that note, Profile Found.

I am writing.

Today's Bad Thing in my head: Migraine

Oh, the agony. I overslept the alarm this morning, and that usually only means one thing: I'm not well. Within fifteen minutes of waking up, I knew what was wrong. I had a migraine (and still have it). I get two varieties of migraine, either pure pain or mostly aura. This one was almost entirely aura. The pain goes in and out, but my vision has been wonky all day (seeing spots and lights where there aren't any, things going in and out of focus), I've been sick to my stomach, had ringing in my ears, and I've been generally exhausted. I'd much rather have a straight pain headache. At least I could take some Advil and be done with it.

Even with all this, I still managed to write today, which is amazing. Not a lot, and I'm still at it, but something.

Bright spots to the day (other than the imaginary ones floating inside my eyeballs):

Lulu had a homework assignment for English class that I found particularly interesting. Her class is reading the novel "Homecoming", and one of the questions on the worksheet she was given by the teacher asks for a three sentence synopsis of the entire novel. I found her at the downstairs computer puzzling over what the heck to write. She held up the book so I could see how long it is, and whined, "I have to sum up this huge book in only THREE SENTENCES!"

I laughed, and told her I understood her pain. I explained query writing to her, and gave her some pointers. She found them helpful enough to get the assignment done, at least.

Tomorrow night Helper Monkey and I are finally going to see the Avengers. I'm so excited about this, I can't stand it. Lulu is going to a camping weekend with the girl scouts. Frederick County canceled school Friday because of the G8 summit at Camp David. Apparently they think traffic will be bad enough around the summit that school buses will have a hard time getting kids to and from school in a timely manner. I sincerely hope not, but the roads in that part of the county aren't designed for traffic. It is in the middle of a National Park, after all. Not to mention the fact that the Frederick Airpark is supposed to be so crowded with incoming flights that we've been warned to avoid the area all around the place this weekend, if we can help it. Which I can't, since I live like two miles from it. Harumph...

The Gaithersburg Book Festival is this Saturday, and I'm looking forward to that, as well. I need some new books, and there are a lot of interesting authors speaking and signing books. I'm particularly looking forward to hearing Steve Ulfelder and Jenny Lawson (a.k.a. The Bloggess). I plan to wear a hat with a taxidermied bird on it. She'll appreciate the effort.

White = raspberry, yellow = honeysuckle.  mmmmmmm.

So since I'm so full of win for the next few days, I apologize in advance if this blog slides into the dustheap. I'll do my best, but....yep already too distracted. Please enjoy this photograph of the raspberry bushes and honeysuckle blooms by my back porch. Try to imagine the delicious aroma, and the abundance of berries we'll have in a month or so.

Game Night

All this week, for some inexplicable reason, Lulu has decided that the half hour after dinner is game time. We've played Uno, Po-Ke-No (my copy of which is older than I am), and tonight I taught her how to play Scrabble. Her comment on finishing her first game of Scrabble: "It takes a really long time to play."

Since we now have a deck of playing cards in residence on our dining room table, I sat down before dinner tonight and dealt a hand of solitaire. Helper Monkey was over on the couch watching the news, glanced over at me, and asked what I was doing.

Me: "Playing solitaire."

Helper Monkey: "Don't you need your cell phone for that?"

Me: "No. I'm playing the old-fashioned way."

Five minutes later, Lulu walks in.

Lulu: "What are you doing?"

Me: "Playing solitaire. Doesn't anyone remember how to do this with actual cards?"

Helper Monkey plays solitaire on his phone all the time. I never do. I'm not even sure I have it installed on my phone. For some reason, I burned myself out on it years ago. I only play if I have real cards.

And I'm glad Lulu wants to play first world games every night. I think we're going for Yahtzee next. I enjoy playing any game that requires you to shout once in a while. I am a natural born shouter, and I'm usually encouraged to tone it down. Anyone know any other games that require loud outbursts? I'd love to know. I'd win those games every time. Or any games that are appropriate for an almost 12-year-old. I'm open to suggestions.

I was preparing to go outside with the laptop to write. It's gorgeous out, and I wanted to take advantage of the great weather. The neighbors stole my idea, though, and have already begun an outdoor hoedown, with a guitar player, a singer, and (gulp) a banjo player. Luckily they haven't played Dueling Banjos yet. I've locked the doors just in case. I think I'll write inside tonight, instead of out in the dark, in the woods, alone, with the banjos...

I bet you can squeal like a pig. Weeeeeeee! *shiver*

Now I bet I won't sleep well tonight, either.

Words: 46,805
Pages: 154

Coffee fixes everything.

Well, coffee certainly fixed my sagging mental capabilities when I dumped Coke and Dr. Pepper as two of my main food groups. So, I guess everything else that got better in the last 48 hours can be indirectly credited to the influence of a good cup (read: pot) of coffee.

What's the most interesting thing to happen in the last few days? Something I'm not allowed to talk about. Sorry folks. Nothing writing related, but I promised to button my lip, so I'll shut up now.

Second most interesting? Finding out I correctly diagnosed the problem with the Helper Monkey's Jeep. I am now renaming myself Grease Monkey. Helper Monkey SWORE he thought the problem was in the exhaust system, and I swore up and down it was a spark plug misfiring. Of course, when plugged into the diagnostic machine at AutoZone, it spat out a cylinder 4 misfire code. Which means I WAS RIGHT! :)

So there. This is why I never get taken advantage of at car repair places. And why the Helper Monkey makes me take both cars in for repairs. You can't fool me. I know engines better than some mechanics I've met. So when my writing career fails to materialize, I think I'll go into automotive repair. Now I just have to find a few hours in which to give the Jeep its tune up. Oh, and buy spark plugs and wires. Gah! Too much busy!

I actually wrote for several hours last night, which is a vast improvement over the complete wasteland my WIP is becoming. Last time I opened it up, a few tumbleweeds rolled out. So now, I have 30 minutes to write before I have to think about dinner, and then another few hours to work again tonight. Busy busy busy...

At least the baseball game I was scheduled to work tonight is getting rained out. I'll get back on track someday. I swear I will. *boohooing over lack of writing time*

Words: 41,435
Pages: 137

This Week versus Last Week

Last week was a real doozy.  The only day in my schedule book that wasn't blackened with "to do" items was Monday. And Monday was just Monday, so it was bad enough on its own without getting bogged down with anything else. Needless to say, my writing suffered last week.

Every time I sat down to write, I had to go back and try to remember what the hell I was writing about. Scatterbrained. Addlepated. I ended up wasting a lot of time going over the disjointed few pages I managed to hack out in a futile attempt to make them work. By the time I caught up and felt ready to dive in again, it was time to rush off somewhere else. I nearly cried several times. I did engage in a little primal scream therapy, with mixed results. It frightened the cat, which was good for a laugh, at least.

I also had the stupid idea, in the midst of the cuckoo schedule, to cut back on the amount of soda I was consuming. I was feeling mighty unhealthy about my diet, since I had several meals at the ball park (one of which consisted entirely of hot dog products), and I was coming to rely too heavily on my souvenir-sized drink servings. That, and I couldn't button the black shorts I wear to work at the games.

At first, I tried to go cold turkey from the caffeine. The first day, I couldn't remember why I had a headache, why I felt so damned tired, and why I was so fuzzy and unable to concentrate. After a few cups of coffee, when I started feeling better, I attributed my precipitous drop in IQ to caffeine withdrawal. It got easier to cut out the sodas if I dramatically increased my coffee and tea consumption. Problem solved. Though I'm not sure it's really any healthier to suck down coffee like it's going out of style, at least it's not full of sugar and calories like the Cokes and Dr. Pepper I was formerly addicted to.

So that was last week. This week, there are only two things in my schedule book so far. Thursday, we're going out to dinner, since my birthday is Friday. Going out to dinner on Mother's Day weekend is against the rules around here. At least my birthday doesn't fall on Mother's Day itself this year. That really sucks. So we're trying to find an Indian or Thai restaurant somewhere within twenty miles of our house that's worthy of Birthday Dinner status. Friday, my actual birthday, we have our final Girl Scout meeting of the year, and it's actually going to be a ton of fun. It's more of a party/fun time for the girls, at a local warehouse that's filled with moon bounce contraptions. And yes, the adults get to bounce, too. So I'm making the Helper Monkey come with us. Birthday privilege.

And I forgot to mention today's events (but since I have a Moleskine planner, which counts Monday as the first day of the week, today is still technically "last week." Now I've hurt my brain thinking about that.) I have to buy groceries, since we've eaten nearly every edible item in the house while I ran around last week. Lets put it this way: I had Cheerios for dinner THREE TIMES last week. Before we hit the grocery store, we're going to a scavenger hunt competition at a local mall. It should be fun. I'll probably get suckered into buying ice cream or a pretzel, but I won't complain.

The rest of the week will be devoted to a research project, and writing. Finally, blissfully writing.

On the up side, Lulu had her chorus concert last night. The thing ran more than THREE HOURS!!! It was a little excessive, if you ask me, but luckily they saved the most interesting, audience pleasing songs for the end. Choral music, in my mind, was not designed for interminable concerts. I'd rather have watched three Broadway shows back to back, but I had to be there. Not only was my kid singing (and she did a brilliant job, by the way), but I was on the Puke Crew. It sounds more disgusting than it was. If they had a medical emergency, I had to be ready to assist the sick child. I crossed my fingers that no one actually got sick, and apparently that worked. I got a front-row seat out of the deal, and had a primo viewing spot for the show.

Glad I snapped a picture of the ticket, because they confiscated them at the door! Yay, Electronic Scrapbook!

On the even upper side, Lulu has decided that next year she wants to take a musical theater class, instead of just a singing class. This bodes well for next year's end-of-year concert show, at least.

All this being said, what have I done with my free morning thus far? Ha! I slept until 9:30, had M&M's and coffee for breakfast, and caught up on bloggy things. Perfect Sunday morning (other than the fact I haven't even glanced at the WIP yet). Now I'm grabbing my pickaxe, and heading out to the word mines.

Sigh...but amazing nonetheless.

Well, Janet Reid announced the winner of the Liz Norris Pay It Forward Debut Novel Contest today, and it wasn't me. But I could have told you that days ago. In fact, I had the winner picked since the day before I announced my finalist status. She was finalist #3, and was revealed the day before I was. When I read her entry, I basically knew I didn't have a chance to win. Congrats to Cassie Marshall on winning, and getting to go to New York for the Backspace conference! My personal seething jealousy aside, I'm confident her novel, "The Stars Fell Sideways" will be on bookstore shelves in the very near future!

So, what am I doing now that I don't have to pack and plan for a trip to New York? Querying. When I took a break to revise my first novel back in early March, I stopped querying. I resumed for a few days around the time I entered the Liz Norris contest, but stopped again when I was (miraculously!) chosen a finalist. I figured, what the heck, I've got a 1 in 9 shot of winning now, so I'll wait and polish that query again before I head back into the land of writer torture (a.k.a. querying agents).

I spent the entire day today dusting off my agent research, finalizing my query, and compiling emails to half a dozen agents. Knock on wood one of them works! It really is a time drag, but I needed a day off from my WIP. I'm entering the Great Boggy Middle of the novel now, and it's perilous trying to navigate my way through those treacherous swamps. False plot lines threaten to lure me off the trail, while here and there I see a glimmer of light through the trees and hope to dog I'm still walking in the right direction.

The Helper Monkey is about a third of the way through Devil May Care, and so far he likes it even better than Dragon Hunter. And I planned to change the name of Dragon Hunter to Running Down the Dragon, but since I'm claiming "Finalist" status in the Liz Norris contest on my queries, I thought it best to hold on to the original title for a while. At least until an agent requests more material. At that point, I think I will let them know I changed the working title. Just in case any of them ask Janet Reid about my entry in her contest, it would be bad if they used the new title, and Janet told them she never heard of it, and I must be some crackpot. :) So, for now, sticking with the old title, even though I've lost all my love for it.

And I finally found an image that remotely looks like my dragons. Although all the dragons in my novel are black. Whatever. These are the closest things I've been able to find that fit my mental picture of my imaginary friends. Hopefully this helps anyone who read my query clarify what I mean by dragons. Minus the weird otherworldly backdrop. My main dragon lives in Boston, for crying out loud! :)

Thanks again, everyone. Especially Janet Reid, Liz Norris, and everyone involved in the contest. It was a fantastic trip, and I'm grateful to have been introduced to so many wonderful people along the way, even if we're only friends online for now. Someday we'll all be published, and meet regularly at events and conferences, and have yet another great story to tell.

The Progress-o-Meter is kind of stuck lately, but here it is, anyway. I plan to write some tonight. Hopefully. We'll see. Still recovering from the craziness.

Words: 31,473
Pages: 103