Tweetgarble: everything I wanted to tweet today, but couldn't.

It has been a WEIRD day, folks. SO MANY THINGS happened that I wanted to share on twitter, but couldn't because I was stuck in the Hot Corner Grill for the duration of an interminable baseball game. Fifteen innings. We still lost. Ugh.

At any rate, here's the weird summation:

Lulu complained of feeling ill this morning. I had to get to work, and I worried about leaving a sick kid home alone. Helper Monkey was due home by 9, so if she was really sick, she could call and he'd go get her. She was, and he did. I felt like Mother of the Year.

I got to work by 8, and there were some film crews there getting shots of the stadium. I asked what they were filming, and they said they were studying broadcast journalism at Fort Meade (one was Army, the other Air Force), and were making a B roll for a class project about food service. Okey dokey. I wished them luck, and told them if they wanted to watch me count beer cups and french fry boats, they were welcome to observe the seedy underbelly of the food service industry. Heavens to Betsy, but about ten minutes later, there they were.

Before I knew what was happening, I'd been selected as the star of their film, forced to wear a microphone, and had two cameras on me for the first four innings of the game. I hope I didn't do anything inappropriate, since this video will ostensibly be viewed by other members of the U.S. Military. I honestly have no freaking idea what to make of this. It was surreal.

Me, in my classy spillproof work shirt and Mr. Microphone. Dang. I really wish I'd thrown on some lipstick. And what a great shot of my nostrils, too! Ugh.

On top of the game running 15 innings, about 5 hours, it was the last game of the homestand, which meant everything in our stand had to be disassembled, washed, and reassembled. It's...a really big job. Especially for six people. We usually have 14. So. We were there for A WHILE. Talk about dishpan hands.

I thought it would be nice to get something to cheer Lulu up, so I stopped at the grocery store. She loves blue Gatorade, so I got her some. I also got myself some gelato, because damn. My feet hurt. Which, obviously, translates to an extreme need for gelato.

When I finally dragged my carcass home, SURPRISE! Lulu was hanging out in our driveway with half the middle-schoolers in our neighborhood, having a regular little party. So much for being sick. Apparently a six hour nap and a shower is now a cure for illness so awful she had to come home from school early.

Helper Monkey agreed she looked awful this morning, so I can only assume a MIRACULOUS HEALING occurred while I was at work. At least she has some nice friends.

Helper Monkey was helpful today, and had done most of the laundry. He warned me, before I went into the bedroom, that it was awfully sparkly in there, and I thought, "OOH! DID HE CLEAN, TOO?!" Nope. Lulu accidentally knocked a jar of glitter into her laundry hamper, and when Monkey dumped it out to sort, GLITTERPOCALYPSE!

So my bedroom rug looks like a unicorn threw up all over it, but hey. Unicorns are magical.

So that brings us up to this moment. My ears are ringing, I feel dizzy and slightly sick. My feet hurt. My back is sore. I just want to curl up in a little ball and sleep for about 12 hours. I don't know if I can finish this draft tonight. I think I'm going to be kind to myself, and do it tomorrow. I'll have ALL DAY, and it's going to be Friday Write Club! Guaranteed finish tomorrow. Because other things are starting to pile up behind it (like EXCITING CP manuscripts that I can't wait to read!)

So there you go. My weird day.

Coping

Like most Americans, I've had an emotional roller coaster of a week. There's been an awful lot of awful. I've gone back and forth, through shock, mourning, anger, helplessness, fascination, rage, grief, and the occasional smile at the spirit of us as a people to keep getting back up when we get knocked down. It's been hard.

I wanted to share my love and pain for the city of Boston. My mom grew up there, and I spent summers as a child there. I have family there. I love the city. I even made it my Main Character's home.

Then there is the tragic explosion in Texas. And the failure of Congress to pass legislation to regulate the sales of firearms. And a dozen other little things, some personal and some national, that have worn on me all week, to the point where I don't know whether to shit or go bowling, as Helper Monkey likes to say.

I've decided to go bowling. Not really, but I've decided I need a brain-breather. I've also decided I won't feel guilty about not being able to handle any more news right now. I just want five minutes that isn't about a tragedy. I need to smile for a few seconds right now.

To that end, here are a few funny telling snippets from my life. Maybe they'll give you a few seconds to smile, too.

Helper Monkey and I went to the grocery store today. On the way home, we were telling bad jokes. Like, How do you recognize a dogwood tree? By its bark. *insert rimshot here* This "joke" was met with derision rather than giggles, so I moved on.

A minute or two later, I told an ACTUALLY funny joke, which cracked me up so hard it apparently drove said funny thing out of my head forever. I'll ask Helper Monkey if he remembers what it was, so I can tell y'all. Until then, you'll have to pretend to laugh at the dogwood joke. Why is it always the best lines that evaporate into mental steam the moment you decide they'd make a great tweet?

Last week, Helper Monkey and I were watching Jeopardy! (remember, it's not spelled correctly without the bang!), and were incensed that none of the contestants could name the "alliterative Mongol leader." Because there were obviously so freaking many of them! Name all the Mongol leaders you can. I'll give you five seconds, and GO!

Right? I bet you got Genghis Khan, for sure. I really do hope you also knew Kublai Khan, as well. And lookie there! Alliteration! And that exhausted my knowledge of Mongol leaders. It's not like there are a confusing jumble of popular Khans to choose from. (shakes fist at sky, "KHAAAAAAAN")

In our indignation, we invented a brother for Kublai Khan. The outcast and rather reviled Kenny Khan, purveyor of dubious-quality second-hand yurts. He offers free valet yak parking, and is happy to toast your new home purchase with a cup of koumis. (Helper Monkey's dramatization of Kenny Khan was done, for reasons unknown, in a Brooklyn accent, but it was somehow funnier that way.)

(In case you don't know, a yurt is a portable tent-like home, and koumis is a common alcoholic drink in Mongolia, made from fermented mare's milk. You're welcome.)

Also, someone should reimagine the poem "Kublai Khan" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (which is one of my favorites ever), as "Kenny Khan"

In Xanadu did Kenny Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree,
Where Ralph, the yak valet will run
through yurt-fields measureless to man
down to the Sunless C.

*I'd have to explain that the Sunless C is actually a yurt model guaranteed not to let in one bit of outside light, let alone rain water or the frigid sub-Siberian winds. It is their Number One Seller, after all! It's larger than the Sunless B, but lacks some of the luxury features of the Sunless D. Kenny's ad campaign bills it as "The Pleasure Dome of Family Yurts."

And now I've run out of smiles. If you'd like an extended distraction, please feel free to finish Kenny's story in poetry. If anyone takes me up on the challenge, I'd love to read the results.

Just remember, it's okay to want to look away for a while. We aren't obligated to torture ourselves, we aren't bad people for suffering 24-hour-news-cycle-fatigue. We all need to step away once in a while. I planned to write tonight. I think I need the distraction. I will not allow myself to feel that the rest of the world will fall apart (any more than it has already) if my eyeballs aren't glued to the news.

Untweetworthy: part the...whatever.

I know I used to number these. I should go figure out what number this one should be, but that seems like a lot of work. I'll just call it Bramlet. That way we can get to the fun a lot quicker!

* I was looking at this list of HI-larious autocorrect failures today, and was laughing so hard I had to take off my glasses, because tears were streaming down my face, and I believe at one point I drooled, and perhaps blew a snot bubble, too. Helper Monkey and Lulu made a few comments about how Mama broke her brain again. It was obscene. After five minutes, Lulu asked if I was STILL laughing, and if I was still breathing. I told her I was only on number 10 of 30, and she put in her ear buds and tried to pretend I didn't exist anymore.

* That moment, pouring the last cup of coffee, but it won't all fit in the mug, so you stand there slurping coffee as fast as you can, alternately topping off the mug and scalding your tongue, so you don't have to pour the last few tablespoons of the precious, precious coffee down the kitchen sink. Then for the rest of the day your tongue feels like it's being bitten by ants, and it's okay, because it reminds you how much you loved that coffee. And then you want more coffee. *and hooray for second POV*

* The cat is currently snoring so loud I thought there was a tv or radio on somewhere in the house. Also, he's using his back foot as a pillow. Cats.

How is that comfortable? At all?

* Speaking of the cat, he's learned a fun new game. It's called BOOBY TRAP. To play, he drags his water bowl into the middle of the floor, cleverly placing it in a direct line between the stairs and the garage door. Every time I walk through my office, I punt the bowl, nearly fall over, and slosh water everywhere. I guess this is his way of ensuring his food area is mopped on a regular basis. Either that, or he thinks it's funny to watch mommy curse and flail. Probably both.

* The school called today to tell me that they found a check in the hallway that Lulu was supposed to bring home to me today. This was a substantial check, for a girl scout cookie order. Thank commas it wasn't cash because I don't trust a middle-schooler would've turned in $144 in cash to the office. O_O

* I accidentally read the comments on this article by Margaret Cho about tattoos and body image. One ignorant and sickening comment (out of many such) suggested that tattoos are disgusting and offensive, and a blight on the landscape. S/he went on to say that they should be covered at all times, because the sight of them was so intolerable. Really. Tattoos. Let me tell ya, comment person, I've seen things in public that I was offended by, that I wish I could unsee (and I mean you, see-through-leggings-worn-as-pants-lady from the other night). I have rarely been offended or disgusted by a tattoo (other than hate-inspired ink, which I hope any of my Thoughtful Readers would be equally offended by). My tattoos are not the result of drunken escapades, nor youthful joie-de-vivre. Every one of them means something to me, and I wouldn't give a single one of them up. In fact, I have a list of MORE tattoos I plan to get as soon as I can.

P.S.: Don't read the comments. Well, you can feel free to read any comments on this here blog, because I don't stand for meanies. If you want to be a meanie, that's fine, but I will delete your trolly little behind faster than you can say antidisestablishmentarianism. And yes, I know it takes a while to say that, but it's not like I sit around all day hitting refresh on my comments page. I do have a life outside of this blog, or I'd run out of things to write about pretty quick.

* Helper Monkey told me he enjoys reading my blog, because even though he's heard most of these stories, he says I write them in a way that's different from how I relate the same facts to him in the course of everyday life. I don't know why, but this makes me deliriously happy.

* One last cat story, I promise. I use my ottoman as a desk, and it gets piled up pretty high with books, paperwork, my laptop (when it's not atop my lap), and random items like ear buds and my magic wand (because you've got to keep your magic wand close to hand). The cat seems to think he has a right to share space with all that stuff and my feet (it is an ottoman, after all). The kindle was sitting atop the pile when Mr. Stinky decided he couldn't share space with everything, and gave the pile a little nudge. Of course, it landed charger-side-down, and bent the stupid pluggydoo. Granted, kindles charge on the same plug as all the cell phones in the house, as well as everything else that uses those little mini USB cables, it it's not like I don't have a spare (or twelve). It's the principle of the thing. I am clearly doomed to live a life free of nice things.

Oh, the kindle is fine. Gary Jr. survived his 18" plummet to the wood floor just fine, unlike his older deceased brother. Thank commas for that protective case I bought for it. It seemed expensive, but in the few weeks I've had the case, I've dropped it down a flight of stairs, sat on it, and now dropped it on the floor again. So. I'd say it was well worth the money.

And I think that's more than enough for one day, don't you? I hope y'all had some fun. Tune in next time when there will be more of the same, but slightly different, because otherwise, why would you bother tuning in again? This is a no-rerun kind of blog.

Untweetworthy, Part the Fifth

It's been a while since I've done one of these, but I actually remembered a few of the anecdotes I wanted to share, and figured I'd write them down before they fall into the Black Hole of Lost Notions.

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 hips hands, I'd be eternally grateful.

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.

Nano-uary

That's right! I finally finished the Zero Draft of Black Sheep! It is done! Only a month after I promised myself it would be. The holidays mess with us all, don't they? But January got back on track in a hurry. It sort of took me by surprise.



I basically nano-ed this manuscript, only I did it in January. Nano-uary? Nanuary? Janano? I wrote about 50k in January. That's what I'm trying to say.

The completed draft is over 103k, but at least a few thousand words will fall to the editorial sword. I was just so determined to reach The End I stopped worrying about how long it was getting and just got it out.

Whatever. It's done. Now it gets to ferment in a drawer for a few weeks while I catch up on all the other things. If I have your MS for critique, and you have a shinier version, let me know. I'll be reading A LOT in the next week or so.



Thank you to everyone who offered me encouragement, and everyone who reminded me to stay off Twitter so I could finish. Thank you to all the wonderful folks who run and participate in #WriteClub, @FriNightWrites. I couldn't have done it without y'all. There's nothing better than breaking writing up into easily manageable chunks, like 30 minute word sprints, followed by a lot of sharing and cheering on Twitter. It sounds like such a simple thing, but it means the world to me, and has made all the difference in finishing this manuscript.

I had so many ideas for another Untweetworthy post in the last week, but I was too busy writing to make notes. I suppose that's Untweetworthy in itself.

So here's the best things I remember about the last week, in a video and a picture:

This is my cat's new favorite past-time, hanging from his little kitty tower, and trying to murder the dangling block with his back feet. Every time I try to take a video of it, he stops. Jerk.

Lulu drew me this picture of a Minecraft creeper in a tux. She has a pet creeper named Shrub, but he keeps blowing himself up. Like a sir.

And thus ends my update of bloggerly goodness. Thanks, y'all.