Saturday, January 31, 2009

My Mom

Tell me that my mom isn't hot? Okay, actually, don't tell me that. I was just thinking today as I was talking to her, 'Mom, you are a babe. And by the way, I love your sweater, can I have it?' Okay that last sentence is of no relevance (and it is not the sweater shown in this pic) but man it was cute (I am actually devising ways in which I can acquire it. The first being to write a flattering post on my blog about my mom). So anyway, my mom who is...well, I better not tell you her age or I might not live to write another post (and I definitely won't get the sweater). But let's just say she is old enough to have three of her five children 30 years of age or older (ha ha, bro, you turn thirty tomorrow). She is also old enough to have eleven grandchildren. Anyway, I just have to say that I am enjoying my genes. If I look like that in 25 years, I will be so happy. (Now give me your sweater! what? huh?)

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Check it out.

So, really, I know I've been sporadic lately, and haven't been as diligent about leaving my sometimes clever (but mostly lame) comments on all of your wonderful blogs. And I'm sorry, I'll be better, I promise. It's just I've been busy. If you're interested to see what I've been working on, check it out here.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

I Know, Gross

We are having major toilet issues in this house. The toilet issues (I know you're dying to hear about them) consist of multiple clogged toilets at any given time. It took me a while to realize what was going on. First, I got after the girls.

"Stop using so much toilet paper," I insisted.

Next, I started blaming our house (like it had any say in the matter) and anyone directly related to the building of it. "I swear, they just don't make houses like they used to," I observed the other day, as though I were some 90 year old woman who had witnessed the time when they did make houses like they used to (however that was).

Even after my post the other day about how my two year old could now open doors, it didn't occur to me that the door opening and toilet problems were correlated. It didn't occur to me, until yesterday, when I walked in on my son flushing a small bottle of air freshener down the toilet with a giddy laugh. I saved it just in time (I know, gross).

Great. What else has he flushed down there? (As long as my flash drive [oh, and my wedding ring] are in plain sight, I think I'll be okay) Today I found a dice sitting at the bottom of another toilet. Sigh. I guess it's time for those child proof door handles that are impossibly hard for adults to open (well at least this adult. I'm sure my son will actually figure out how to open them faster than I will).

Saturday, January 24, 2009


One fine afternoon, two friends and I went to Pier One to buy an easel. We roamed the store without much luck and then came upon a very friendly worker.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for an easel."

"Oh, sure, let me show you where they are." He led us to a cabinet and pulled out two sizes to choose from. One was too small and one was too big. (And one was just right. No, that's not true. They didn't have the size I wanted, grrr)

He was holding them up for me to inspect and I realized he was waiting for a reaction or for me to pick one. I don't know, he was waiting for something. That's when the word came flying out of my mouth and I didn't know what I was saying until it was too late to pull it back or stop it. "Coolio."

He raised one eyebrow.

I, feeling a little bit lame, decided to continue humiliating myself by proclaiming, "Uh, I didn't mean to say that."

That's when he laughed and said, "Coolio is actually my word. I use it all the time." (yeah right)

I grabbed the closest easel and took it to the register. On my way out the door, he called out, "Have a coolio day." (see, I knew he had never used that word before)

And that is the story of the day (I wish I could say the last day) I said the word "coolio" to a random stranger.

I loved everyone's comments yesterday. I'm glad I'm not the only one with quirks.

Friday, January 23, 2009

What is my problem, people?

Okay, I have developed an especially obnoxious habit that I am trying my hardest to break. And that is, anytime I am around more than one person, I take to using the word "people" after (or before or in the middle of) nearly all statements. For example, I might say, "People, tell me that isn't rude?" Or, "Here's the thing, people, I am a huge dork for doing this."

Yes. I know. Annoying. Help me. Is there a pill for this? Because every time I say it I feel like I have suddenly turned my statement into a rallying cry. Like, "Am I right, people, come on! Let's go save the universe!" Or worse, I feel like the gum-flapping, arrogant jerk from the office (not the TV show, in case you were wondering which character that was. I just mean the local jerk in your average office. They all have them, right? They come standard with every office, don't they?) Seriously, what is my problem, people? And where did this annoying habit come from? I will blame all of you to make myself feel better. When I find out the real reason and/or cure myself of this horrible habit, I'll let you know. For now, I will try my hardest to only talk to one person at a time, thus avoiding the temptation to overly use the word.

I guess it's a little better than my old use of the word "peeps" to random strangers. For example, the time we went to the midnight release of a certain book and on my way out the door, I said (much to my own horror), in a very loud voice, "Thanks, see ya'll later, peeps." I really did. My sister still makes fun of me and my good friend, Nicki, bought me a shirt that says, "Where my peeps at?" to make sure that I don't live this down. (It wasn't the only time I did it, btw. If it had been the shirt and the mocking might not have been justified. But they were. Unfortunately.)

Now, don't get me wrong. Some people can pull this word off. Those same people, are a lot cooler than I am.

Oh, this reminds me of another time that I used the word "coolio" to a guy in Pier One. I will tell that embarrassing story tomorrow.

Are there any habits you have that you wish you could eradicate from your life?

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

I've Missed You, T.V.

I rarely watch T.V. anymore. It's not that I don't want to. I love to be entertained. Really, I do. But these days, with the constant programming going on in my head, I would rather spout my own stories (thus helping me achieve my ultimate goal of becoming the most narcissistic person I know) than watch stories on television. There is one show however, that always manages to pull me away from the inner workings of my mind and back to the long neglected spot on the couch. That show is American Idol. Perhaps it is my love of music, perhaps I secretly have a thing for Simon, perhaps I enjoy seeing new talent discovered and the raw emotion it creates in hopeful future stars. I admit, it is all of those things. But I must confess to one more...I am drawn to American Idol because I love to laugh. I LOVE to laugh. And, boy, do I! Especially during these first few weeks. I want to personally thank all the American Idol contestants who make complete and total fools of themselves purely for my entertainment. I know most of them do it just to get on television and are fully aware of the obvious fact that they can't sing. I'm okay with this knowledge. I'm perfectly fine with it as long as they can make me laugh. So please, don't let the fact that the whole world will mock you for days on end stop you. The more tone deaf the better, I say. Sing, people, sing (preferably on television so that I can laugh at you).

Yes, Simon, that's how I feel and I love it!

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Dreaded Day...

...has finally arrived. The day where my two-year-old son figured out how to open doors. Gone is the day that I can save the poor fish (and the various stuffed animals/webkins who didn't ask to go swimming) in my daughter's room from torment by just shutting the bedroom door. Gone is the day that I can shut the bathroom door and save toothbrushes from ending up in the toilet. Gone is the day that I can shut my bedroom door and leave my computer open for one second while I run and answer the phone. (Have I ever mentioned that my son can pop off all the keys on a laptop faster than I can answer the phone and tell a person that I better go because I think I hear my son giggling--yeah, it's quite a talent. It's also a good test for me to figure out if I know how all the letters are supposed to be arranged on a keyboard. Sigh.) Yesterday was freedom. Today is chaos.

But in good news, I named my book (thanks Jenni)--Captivated (I love it). And I now know how it is going to end. Phew. I was getting worried.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

My Amazing Husband

Okay, since it's the weekend, I thought this might be a good time to do this tag. All about my husband. I was tagged by my friend Annette (who I've known since the 3rd grade). I know this is my writing blog. And I know that I have promised my extended family/friends who really don't care to read how crazy I am (because they already know), that I would start a family blog. I haven't done this yet, so I will post this tag here. I'm supposed to do 5 things in 6 areas. But, because that is 30 things and Jared would kill me (he's super private/shy), I will write 6 things about my wonderful husband.

*He is 6'8", which brings to mind two thoughts. One, every new person he meets (I was guilty as well) asks him how tall he is and if he plays basketball. And a few people ask him how the view or weather is up there. Yeah, it gets old. (BTW, yes, he played ball in college and the weather and view up there is lot better than the weather/view anywhere else, because he has it all to himself) Two, when he first met me, he told me he was 6'9" (his height w/b-ball shoes on)--I'm so sure. If I knew he was only 6'8", I don't know that I would have married him.

*He's a stock broker and likes to read super boring finance books. Like seriously enjoys reading them. Bleck. I fall asleep just reading their titles. But his all time favorite book (going back to his teenage years) is: Time of the Twins by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (When we first got married it was one of my requirements to read this book and I [should I admit this] actually enjoyed it).

*He draws really well, but won't admit it.

*He's super funny, but the funny thing is that his sense of humor is so dry that, true story, one of my friends after a year of knowing me (a year!) finally looked at me and said, your husband is hilarious. I was like, uh, yeah, I know. And she said, Yeah, it took me until now to realize that.

*He is the best husband ever and has fully supported me this last year when I turned into a recluse and started writing like crazy.

*He is the best dad ever as voted by our four children, and me. And if anyone saw my post about my daughter announcing that she loves her daddy more than her mommy, then you understand this statement is so true.

Oh, and if you feel like bragging about how amazing your husband is then consider yourself tagged.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Quote of the Week

"Fantasy's hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it." Lloyd Alexander

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Sandwich You Need to Say

It is often the case that while listening to songs, we hear (and subsequently sing) the wrong lyrics. Okay, well, I shouldn't speak for all of you. I guess what I should really say is, it is often the case that I completely screw up the lyrics to almost every song I sing. My children do this as well. Their latest one: "Sandwich You Need to Say" by John Mayer.

"Mom, what does the sandwich need to say?" my daughter asked me today.

I find this specific example of misunderstood lyrics especially ironic, because his song is all about saying what you need to say. And of course since I relate everything back to writing it got me to thinking about books and how many times people might misunderstand our character's intentions or motivations. I often feel very tempted to spell it out for the reader, but then I remind myself that everybody is going to bring their own experiences and emotions with them when they read and that everyone will probably relate to my characters differently. It's all about letting my characters be who they are and hoping that people don't think they are saying "sandwich" when they are really trying to say "say what".

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


After school today my five year old daughter said, "Oh, Mom, thanks for the fruit snacks you put in my backpack. They were gross-good." (FYI, they were the yogurt-covered ones)

I said, "Huh? Gross-good. What's that mean?" Of course, thinking the whole time that it was some new-fangled word for totally delicious.

"You know, mostly good, but a little bit gross," she said.

Okay, great.

I've decided right now my WIP is gross-good. I like most of it, but there are a few parts that are giving me a major headache. *Sigh* Back to work.

Sunday, January 11, 2009


It's interesting to me, the measurement of time. It's the year 2009 now. The world measures time based on the birth of Christ. Of course, I do as well, but I also measure time more personally, like by how many years I've been married, or by how old my firstborn is. More recently I measure time based on my father's death. I'll think things like, was that before dad died, or after.

My five year old daughter has her own personal time measurement system as well. It is based on the last time she threw up. Yes, really, it is. This morning she said, "Mom, remember when we went to the Cabin? You know, Mom, like way before I threw up in my bed." Before this it was when she threw up in her car seat. "Mom, remember when we went to the park? It was around the time I threw up in my car seat after ballet." It makes me laugh. I wonder why her mind chooses these points of reference from which to draw. Oh well, we all have events in our lives from which to measure the passing of time by. I guess she's chosen hers.

Friday, January 9, 2009


Okay for those of you who've read my facebook "25 Things About Me," might recall number 24 which is: "I love to sing really loud when I'm alone (and I'm really bad at it). I have a story that goes along with this.

So one day (about 5 years ago) I was driving (alone) to, well does it really matter where I was driving (I don't remember)? Anyway, it was around Christmas time and I decided to give myself my own personal Christmas concert starring me, of course. The highlight of the performance: Oh Holy Night was sung at the top of my lungs. Well, I was getting near the end of the song, you know the climax, and I pulled up to a stoplight. Now this was a two lane road so nobody was beside me, thank goodness. But I didn't even think twice about the car in front of me. I mean, he was in front of me, minding his own business. Well this was an extra long light, so I was able to finish my song and start thinking about next song I was going to grace myself with, when (yes there's a when) the man in front of me turned all the way around in his seat and applauded. He had this extra smug grin on his face too. 'Man, how wide was my mouth open when I was singing?' I began to wonder as I slunk a couple inches down in my seat from shame. There is a reason why I sing when I'm all alone, good thing he couldn't hear me too (do you think he heard me????).

Man, I'm a dork. Better stick with the shower for all future concerts.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Little Boys

I had three girls first so when my son came along it was a whole new ball game for me. I mean, I thought I had this parenting thing down, I've been doing it for ten years, for heaven's sake. But boys are just different, aren't they?

My two year old son has a fascination with his nose. Not just pointing to his own or other people's (like all my daughters did at his age). No, he likes to stick things up it. Whatever really. If he has it in his hand, his little boy brain thinks, "hmm, maybe I should see if this fits up my nose." Crayons, pencils, his fingers, food, really, whatever.

So the other day he's in his high chair and I'm cleaning (I know, miracle). He starts saying, "Mom, look. Mo-om. Mom." Finally, I look up and he has the tail of his toy dinosaur shoved up his nose.

"Gross," I say. He giggles, thinking he is the funniest kid in the world (he is).

I'm scared for the day that something gets stuck up there. (Now, I'm sure some of you have had daughters that stuck things up their noses, but none of mine ever did. So this is truly a scary thought for me, the day I have to go to the doctor because my son stuck a barbie shoe up his nose or something. Yikes!)

Monday, January 5, 2009

Ice What?

So Sunday my family came over for dinner. My brother in law (who likes to incessantly pick on me by finding out what projects I am working on and then proceed to harass me about them [you know it's true, Kevin] for weeks on end) asked me what my current WIP is about. I told him (because I am a stubborn, mean, sister in law) that he didn't get to know. But he knew the title from my site *sigh* so he proceeded to spend the next half hour trying to guess. These were his theories for Ice Queen:

*An ice skater who works hard to win the gold and finds the love of her life in the process. (Uh no, I think that's called Ice Princess and Disney already made that one)

*The Queen of England wants to have her body cryogenically frozen, sent out to space (I'm not sure why space had anything to do with it), and then brought back in X amount of years to continue her reign.

*The women's Jamaican bobsled team almost wins the gold medal, but instead wins our hearts. (Cool Runnings 2?)

*A boy with a bad accent who asks for ice cream is misunderstood as asking for ice queen. (btw, this theory launched into a big ol' story on somebody my sister knows who can't pronounce his own name right, so is constantly asked to repeat himself--Cowin? No Collin. Cowin? Ugh. It was a pretty funny story)

*An ice age comes, freezing half the world and a young woman arises as the queen of the survivors.

Were there more, Kevin? I try to block out most of your taunting, so I don't remember. Anybody else have theories they want to throw out there? So far, he's not even close to being right (thank goodness).

Friday, January 2, 2009


Different thoughts I've had today:

-How can I live another minute unless the laundry, which has been in the hall for a week, has been washed, folded, and put away?

-We should have people over tonight to play Guitar Hero 4.

-I better clean my house before my friends come over.

-I really want to read a certain book I have in my email box.

-I bet my blogger friends are dying to read a post on my blog today. (I mean, I honestly don't know how they lived without me yesterday). :)

-I should just write two pages of my WIP.

-I better make sure I haven't gotten an email in the last two minutes.

-Ooh, I need to watch the new Wolverine movie trailer that's out now. *watches it* It's going to be awesome!

The things I do to avoid editing. *sigh* Back to work. SAVE ME!