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If a genie gave me three wishes, my first wish would be for the ability to change my surroundings at will. Poor Will, he'd never know what hit him.....
Everybody has emotional baggage, and lord knows mine isn't light....but at least it has wheels......
I now have proof positive that I sleep on my right and left sides equally during the night. I went to bed with my hair wet last night and woke up looking JUST like a kewpie doll......
I have to color coordinate Legos when I'm making a building. Otherwise the universe explodes....
My daughter emailed me a translation of the bible done by lol cats. The scary thing is I'm seriously considering opening the file......
I'm a bit worried about the fevered part of my brain that a story just came from. So, I've given it some lovely hot cocoa and it's having a nice quiet lie down......
Found out at a party: When you're looking for an upbeat answer to one of life's questions......you don't want to ask a room full of mystery writers "What's the worst that could happen?"
I mistakenly used the word "celebrity" when I meant "luminary" while describing a writer friend the other day.....I realized afterwards that while the word luminary can make you feel exalted, like a star in the sky.....the word celebrity can make you feel like you need to buy a small dog and then go get something waxed.......
I dream in Technicolor..... and I used to dream in Dolby Sound...but I had to stop because I couldn't afford the licensing agreement....
It's 6:45 am and I already swallowed a bug......wonder how that will sway the day?
Hey I hit 42k on my WIP and my headache got better! Maybe the headache was just a manifestation of the alien storyline trying to get out all along......plus now I have these really cool tentacles over my eyebrows.
After writing for four hours straight I looked up at the clock and I swear a voice in my head that I'm not sure was mine said.......I wish I had a cabana boy.....I could really go for some peeled grapes right about now......
My mind is currently a twisting dark miasma of alien activity....I just told a friend who remarked on my sudden word count jump that once I let my characters loose on the planet surface that the story really went wild.....he replied that that's what happens to him every time he visits a new planet.....about an hour later I thought huh......I guess I should find out if he has a belly button.
This will make sense to no one but Judy.....sex appeal and broccoli...two things that can NOT be denied.
My two favorite subject lines for November so far.....My eyeball isn't going to explode or anything, and I salivate at the sight of mittens.....
When you write something for a new character that's so hot that your heart pounds while you're doing it and you have to take a break for a minute to slow things down.....[cause you just met him and you're not that kind of girl]......you just might be on to something.....
You don't have to be tortured to write......but it makes your bio a lot more interesting.....
[I've heard of this, but I never thought it would happen to me] Instead of working on my current project.....I just spent five fascinating minutes watching a biography channel special on Tony Danza ......it's very possible that at this late stage in my life I've discovered the concept of procrastination......
New Novel idea.....Title: Blind and Bruised......Concept: A young girl wakes to find that she can fly. But only with her eyes shut. And only at a height of 25 feet .......I'm thinking that there would be one or two obstacles for her to overcome.....
I need to find the adjustment knob that sets my "yes, ask me out" vibe to a more specific age range. Yesterday in a two hour period I had a 23 year old and a 72 year old ask me out. A friend suggested that it's my sunny disposition that attracts such a varied age group ....but then he added that it could be because I smell just like freshly baked cookies.....
Hold music that is both slightly off station and some kind of generic calypso is probably a clear sign from the universe that I need to simply accept the ridiculous service fee and move on with my life.
The twitter conundrum for me: Yes, with twitter more people are able to laugh at my stuff, but if I stopped to tweet every time I thought of something funny I'd never get anything done. Vader's plan to take over our lives is working. Once he joins forces with HULU we're doomed.
Today while brainstorming money making ideas the random thought that flitted through my brain was ...if I was a guy I could sell my sperm....
Most days I feel like there is a meteor headed toward my house and the words, much like rats fleeing a sinking ship, have to get themselves onto the page before the impact. Then there are days where there are no words at all. On those days I go to the park and hug trees. It's a win/win situation.
I invented a new kind of decoder ring. It's especially for writers. It emits a strobe light in the presence of typos and a low pitched whine in the presence of critics. The problem? The damn thing goes off pretty much all of the time and people just smash it with something heavy after a couple of hours. *sigh*
Ok, so after taking a fabulous class I can juggle two balls. I'll let you know when I get to three......or you could just keep your tv on....I'm pretty sure they'll interrupt your regularly scheduled program with a bulletin....
Sometimes I tip my head to the side and hop on one foot to clear out the old trivia in my brain. It's a lot like sending things to the recycle bin on your desktop only without the cool crunching sound.
I have to go to the store. # of times you can reuse a tea bag? 6..... well.... ok..... 5....that last cup was really only hot sugar water.
My dream is to be welcomed with open arms by people who love and accept me for who I really am. Maybe I'll join the circus......
One of the advantages of living in this day and age is that you can get after factory parts at fairly reasonable prices. I recently had an anti-blurt button installed. First dates and interviews go a LOT smoother now......
I accidentally sent an email response to the wrong friend. I was just glad that it was the one about making an interesting song lyric from the subject lines in my inbox......and not the one right before that ......
With no sucky days....life would be monotonously good.
Why does Monday have such POWER over people? I'm thinking of asking Lauren to draw Monday as a supervillian so I can pitch the idea to Marvel comics. It just stands to reason that Monday would be a character that people would love to hate......so many people say things like Monday has no power over me! or I totally kicked Monday's ass!
He would of course have to have a blue uniform.
Blue Monday... blue day......and he'll never see things your way......[with apologies to Fats Domino, Foreigner and of course Lauren]
I enjoy interesting email subject lines. My favorite for October was "a gross and circular argument." That would be a great name for a garage band.
I'm thinking of writing a country song. I have two lines so far. I wish I had someone to touch me and I wish I liked whiskey. If I combine them I could have the chorus be If I liked whiskey it would be much easier to lower my standards and find someone to touch me.......... It still needs some work.
My friend Cat lives in New Zealand. She's sixteen hours ahead of me. Which means she lives in the future. I'm going to ask her to start picking my lottery numbers.
I gave up sarcasm for my last birthday. After a while it simply became too demanding ..... and quite frankly just cost too much to feed and dress.
I wrote 2,600 words in two hours today. The smell of the pasta I made for lunch [tomatoes, garlic and chicken broth] almost overpowers the smell of burning hair from my brain being on fire.
When you're paid to do something you're a professional.
When you do it for fun you're an amateur.
When you're paid to do something that you'd do for fun anyway, isn't that the best of both worlds?
Well, unless you're a hooker.
The other day I was bored. I'm NEVER bored. I was pretty sure it was the first sign of the apocalypse......
I like to go through life leaving a little sparkly trail of joy.....just like tinkerbell.
Simple formula for dealing with Cleveland weather while walking in the park. If it's cold, add clothes, if it's hot, remove clothes, if it's raining, add umbrella. If umbrella turns inside out in February during carwash style rain two miles out from your car, walk along pretending it's not raining. For maximum enjoyment of carwash style rain, add smiling and parade waving at passing cars.
I love having a skeleton. I tried going without, but I didn't like just puddling on the ground.
You know those locks for ignitions with breathalyzers attached? I think I need one for my keyboard that measures low blood sugar. I was apparently in need of cookies when I commented on a friend's blog that I sometimes do yoga naked. It's true, but he didn't need to know it....and well, I guess neither did you guys....
I do have a dark side. A deep down, dark, bloody-clawed, dribbly-fanged dark side. I keep it locked in my sock drawer.
My legs are so white that when I go outside in shorts, if people look directly at them they burst into flames.
Something about my face makes people tell me what is uppermost on their mind. Yesterday? A ninety year old man described to me in detail how he had spent his morning. I now know how to make a mailbox look like new again with a little windex and an old tee shirt. It was VERY MacGyver.
I know that these ( ) are what you put around asides and parenthetical thoughts and that these [ ] are what you put around asides inside of these ( ). I just like the way these [ ] look.
Sometimes the things I write are as real as the things I live. Sometimes they are the same things, thinly disguised.
I love that goosebumpy/shivery feeling you get from music or men. Either way. But you don't have to pick up the dirty socks that music leaves laying around.
Has no one else experienced a toddler being magnetically attracted to their legs? No one? It wasn't even my toddler.
And he couldn't even reach to my knees with his chubby little hands. It was at a petting zoo. I knew that it was a petting zoo going in, but I didn't know that my legs were going to volunteer.
It's nice when a friend cares enough about you to be petty on your behalf. Not necessarily good karma for them, but nice for you all the same.
I want to learn to play the guitar.
I want to learn to levitate.
I want to learn to juggle.
Not necessarily in that order.
Live long and prosper...I'm doing the hand thing, you just can't see it.
When you knife some margarine onto a hot baked potato and it looks just like an angel in profile with one outstretched wing…..and it melts before you get back from the bedroom with your camera…..which of those things is the sign you were supposed to receive?
If Julia Roberts and Melissa Gilbert had a love child you'd get me. Freckly, fair skinned girl next door....but with LEGS.
I'm not going to riff on Jesus....I like Jesus...and Buddha...he's cool. In fact, I like to think that had the two met they would have sat down for a nice chat and some pie.....lots of pie.
Judy and I are making this tee shirt. "Sadistic Dentists..why you have 70's soft rock in your head late at night..." [you have to picture the graphic]...patient out like a light in the chair, dentist hovering over a bowl of metal fillings still in their liquid state, tiny chips of music being inserted into said liquid...then the drilling.....bwaaahaahhaaa
When you email your deepest darkest secrets to someone, it's a lot like those conversations you have late at night when you're sleepy, the lights are off, and your inhibitions are down. It's cathartic. But then in the morning you really hope that the other person doesn't work for the inquirer.
Smiley faces often show up in my chocolate milk.
Apparently, discussing the size of a giraffe's penis will drive traffic to your web site....
Everything I see, touch, smell, taste and hear eventually makes its way into my writing somewhere. I'm just glad that my brain never runs out of idea index cards. Oh, sometimes one of my ideas gets mangled when I leave it in the metaphorical pocket of my jeans and it goes through the washer. I see that as an opportunity. I work to make it stronger when I unroll the soggy little mess.
I had a widget once (say that three times fast) It was a razor blade with a handle on it. I used it to scrape things off of other things.
Why do my fingers sometimes smell like celery even though the last time I HAD celery was 1987?
I write serious dark literary fiction, young adult fiction and funny sexy mysteries. I love to write. I love to read. I love spending time with people.
When I'm not writing for myself, ghostwriting and editing for other people I teach pain management and walk in the park a lot.