Off for a (Working) Break

I am officially off-line for 3 day days, starting now. I HAVE to work on these edits and I spend waaay too much time goofing around. Because I also have to work the next 3 days, I plan to spend the mornings doing NOTHING but writing. I'll be back on Thankful Thursday. Hopefully I'll have something to be thankful about.



Farewell!

PS. I will be checking email but that's about it.

Big Surprise--Not

What Be Your Nerd Type? Your Result: Literature Nerd   Does sitting by a nice cozy fire, with a cup of hot tea/chocolate, and a book you can read for hours even when your eyes grow red and dry and you look sort of scary sitting there with your insomniac appearance? Then you fit this category perfectly! You love the power of the written word and it's eloquence; and you may like to read/write poetry or novels. You contribute to the smart people of today's society, however you can probably be overly-critical of works. It's okay. I understand.
Drama Nerd
Social Nerd
Artistic Nerd
Gamer/Computer Nerd
Science/Math Nerd
Musician
Anime Nerd
What Be Your Nerd Type? Quizzes for MySpace

She Did It!

Not only did my niece Leah bust her behind for years raising 3 kids by herself while working as a nurse's aide and going to nursing school full-time--she just passed her state boards with FLYING COLORS!!!


Leah, R.N.. It's official and I'm sooooo proud of her!

Oh, no, another nurse in the family? As if our dinnertime conversations aren't gross enough!

What Part of "Outline" Do I Not Understand?

Today's Horoscope: If you are working on a particular problem, you are now poised to make an intellectual breakthrough. Nevertheless, don't force a solution; just follow your feelings wherever they take you.

This "intellectual breakthrough" hopefully means I will solve the MASSIVE TIME WARP I just discovered in my ms. Was I huffing Aquanet I wrote this?

Hello? Thanksgiving only comes once a year. And as far as I know it comes before Hanukah. Who knew that STW takes place in an alternate universe? And this is only one of my time-frame f***-ups. I'm sure I have others. BIG others.

Horoscope revised: Just follow your feelings wherever they take you A FREAKING OUTLINE for once in your life!

Friday 10

1. My sister Mary's WONDERFUL WORDS about Before, After, and Somebody in Between. I especially love that she said, "Makes me feel a little blessed with my childhood and a lot more aware of how I should raise my son." Oh, and the fact that she called me brilliant. :) Thanks, Mary!

2. It's only 10 a.m. and already I ran out to take Beth to work, buy a cup of coffee, stop and get cigarettes, have my e-check done, and renew my license plates. All on 4 hrs sleep.

3. How funny that all this stuff about Michael Vick is coming out NOW--one month before I plan to start my pit bull dog story. Nancy Grace apparently disregarded my suggestion to cease and desist showing video footage of dog fights. I don't need visuals. I get it. I GET IT.

4. My sister Karen made my day by calling me up at 8:30 to sing Happy Birthday in my ear! (((HUGS)))

5. Beth also made my day with her birthday card: On the front, a few crows perched on a jungle gym. Inside, thousand of crows flying around and screeching (complete with audio!). She knows The Birds is one of my all-time favorite movies.

6. My hair is h-i-d-e-o-u-s! Tomorrow: chop-n-dye.

7. At least my skin is clear for a change. Not counting the zits, I mean...

8. I put on a couple pounds. I need to wire my jaws.

9. I'm kind of a celebrity at work. These is sooo weird! The head of the hospital sent me a congratulatory note. I had a write-up in the hospital news bulletin. People are reading! I've had nothing but good feedback. I only wish some of my coworkers worked for the School Library Journal. Or Booklist. Or Publisher's Weekly. Or...

10. Be careful what you wish for. Is a bad review better or worse than no review at all?

Thankful Thursday

I'm thankful my fingers haven't fallen off yet. I've slashed 5,000 words and I'm only a third of the way into it. A few useless scenes, but mostly I've shortened my rambling sentences and kicked out a few thousand adverbs and adjectives. I'm working on it non-stop. My laptop's ready to blow.

I'm thankful I still love the story. I'm thankful I've been able to make it so much better.

And I'm thankful PAMELA agreed to a private, secluded writers retreat of our own!







IF we can get this cabin (I'm waiting to hear back) we'll be going in the fall!

Cat Predicts Death

CAT PREDICTS PATIENTS' DEATHS



Of course if this were Max they'd be blaming him for the deaths. :o

Noisy Visitor

The screeching outside my bedroom window was driving me nuts so I finally went out and snapped a picture:



My innocuous suburban block is suddenly overridden with HAWKS!

2k7: BAD GIRLS CLUB

Congratulations to Judy Gregerson. Today is the release of her YA novel BAD GIRLS CLUB



From Judy's Website: "Destiny has a secret. She’s been told not to tell anyone what happened to her, her little sister, and her mother at Crater Lake. Or that her mother is mentally ill and hits her little sister.

"But the secret is killing her and every day she remembers the bad thing she did at Crater Lake. Her boyfriend, Joshua, and best friend, Chloe, don’t understand. When she pulls away from them, and refuses to leave the house, they don’t realize that she’s trying to fix the mistake she made. They only know that she’s slipping away.

"But trying to hold her family together doesn’t work. Destiny feels a darkness in the house and when Mom gets out of the psychiatric hospital, it takes over. First it attacks her little sister, and then it comes for her..."

I get chills just reading this. Yay, JUDY!

I Won!

Doesn't it make you nuts when you’re driving in a car listening to a radio show contest—and you KNOW the answer? And you KNOW by the time you phone in somebody else will have already answered it?

Today on WCLV (classical music) the host asked, “In the movie Steel Magnolias, what were Shelby’s wedding colors?”

I know that. I know that! Well, I know one of 'em, anyway. Bashful and...what?
"Blush" and... Damn, it starts with another B...

"Blush" and........ "Blush" and..............

?????

Crap.

Radio host: “Well, we still don’t have an answer...”

BLUSH and WHAT???

Ding, ding, ding! I dial the number, narrowly missing a curb.

“Do you know the answer the question?”

“Yes!”

“What were Shelby's colors?”

“BLUSH AND BASHFUL!”

Nate: "Only YOU would know something as lame as that!"



What did I win? Tickets to BARRYMORE! It's not Broadway, but hey! :)

Huh?

I woke up at 5:30 a.m. Lights blazing overhead. Fully clothed, sitting up, with my laptop--connected to the internet--charring my thighs. I don't even remember closing my eyes. Or what I was DOING.

Something tells me I'm not getting enough sleep. Gee, wonder why?
What's gross is: aren't people in my profession supposed to, um, shower when they get home? Like, before they even touch a single thing???

Ew, ew, ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

I hope this isn't a sign of early dementia.

I Survived Positive Saturday

Positive Energy Day was a success. I ran out of steam by 11 p.m.--but the worst I said all night was a couple of oh-craps. Fifty things ticked me off in the first two hours, so I started a list. At first I thought that'd be expending too much negative energy. Then I decided it might be good to review it later to see if these things were really THAT important.

I lost interest in the list halfway through the shift. Then I lost the list.

It was a relatively ugly night. One person (not a patient) totally pissed me off. But I kept my trap shut. How unlike me. Eight hours without bitching? Amazing!

So now the A-Team has decided to do this one Saturday a month. Strangely enough, I felt less stressed than usual. Maybe "venting" isn't always the best way to go. Who knows?


Deb Jan Elca Tange Me

A POSITIVE Saturday

The sun is out, my seratonin levels have risen, and I'm on one-big-honking-editing roll. Is it possible to become addicted to this?

"Hi, I'm Jen. I'm an editolic."

"HI, JEN!!!"

Today is officially Positive Energy Day for the A-Team. The reason behind this is that we have a tendency to bitch. No, not a tendency: a compulsion. This is what happens when you take a bunch of pre-peri-and-post menopausal chicks and throw them together under stressful circumstances. Today's ground rules:

1. No bitching about anything. Period. Co-workers. Patients. The ratty-looking environment. The ninety degree humidity. N-o-t-h-i-n-g!

2. Um, if you MUST say something negative, it must be followed up by something positive. AND it must not involve any obscenities.

Beth and I attended the IRISH CULTURAL FESTIVAL last night and fell in love with these delightful Irish faces:


Wheaton Terrier


Irish Setter


Irish Wolfhound

The setter was there to publicize a local Irish Setter rescue team. Oh. My. God. I soooooo wanted to take this beautiful old baby home with me:

Too bad Max would kill him.

BTW, Beth got bit a Persian cat at work yesterday. Thank GOD for (leftover) antiobiotics!

PRUNING

Statistics:

The first revision of STW was a whopping 107K--and that was cut BACK from my original draft.

The second revision weighed in at an even 100K.

I'm barely an eighth into it and it's already down to 97.

90K is perfectly doable. Getting it down to the 80s is a distinct possibility.

Yes, it's slooow going. But easier than I remembered.

Class of 2k7 EZINE

Read the Summer Issue of THE CLASS OF 2K7 EZINE here. Thank you to everyone who worked so hard on this issue! BTW, inside, there's a GREAT article about graphic novels by G. NERI. Neri's graphic novel Chess Rumble will be published by Lee and Lee Books this November. I was addicted to GNs when I was a kid (of course, we called them comic books then)--not the "funny" ones (tho I read those, too) but GN versions of American classics like Tom Sawyer and Little Women.

**************

OK, in other news--and I can't say much because it doesn't involve me--but I happen to know someone whose FIRST YA NOVEL was just pre-empted. Pre-empted! OMG. This is the stuff you dream of. More details to come once I'm officially permitted to flap my trap.

STW

I miscalculated the word count. Shawna's a solid 100K.

Oops. What can I say? I write big books.

If I edit 20 pages a day, I'll be done by within a month. Then that's IT. I could tweak till my dying day and still find things to change.

"If," I said. If, if, if!

Official working title: Say the Word.

Beats "Dead Lesbian Mother" which is what I've been calling it. ;)

Almost Done

OMG. I am on the last chapter of my started-out-to-be-edits-but-turned-into-another-revision.

This is sooo intense. The ending breaks my heart. *I* wrote it. How can it break my heart?

Next: one more run-through, then I'll print it out, proof-read, make corrections, and send it off to my agent. I'm giving myself ONE MORE MONTH!

I'm exhausted.

Good for the BULL!

Two brothers shishkabobbed:



All I can say is: GO-O-O-O-O-O, BULL! Get a few jabs of your own in before you are tortured and murdered.

Am I supposed to feel "sorry" for these eejits? I'm enraged that bullfighting exists in this day and age. Seriously enraged.

Source and story

Bunnymusing

I may not have a muse. But I do have a Bunnymuse. And she was thrilled to death when my authors copies arrived.




Of course she dove right into the book.




Best friend Sorcha joined her. They were riveted!




Something tells me the story wore 'em out.

Happy Birthday to Grandma Mary

happy birthday, mary!


i love you!

Thankful Thursday

I'm thankful my husband doesn't mind dwelling in a pigsty...cuz it ain't gonna change.

Son, on the other hand (picking food particles off his sock): Dirty floor, dirty floor.

Me: Is your arm broken?

I sound like my mom--except her floors were always clean. Because she made me clean them.


P.S. Yay!



The word "hell" did me in. Not bazoongas at all.

A Very Bitter Pill

An online friend of mine just got rejected by her dream agent.

She pretty much had the same experience I had a while back. An agent (not W.H.) was VERY interested in her novel. With no "promise of representation" they asked her for revisions. In my case I did one start-to-finish revision over the course of a couple of months. Yes, it was a lot work. But after completing the revisions, I sent it back and was nicely rejected. I say "nicely" because, well, they were NICE. I received a personal letter explaining why they were rejecting it—not some lame-ass form letter which is pretty much what she got.

In my friend's case, though, she and this agent went back and forth for months. MONTHS. Not weeks. Agent would give suggestions, Friend would revise and sent back, Agent would deliver specific feedback--and then she'd revise some more. Agent displayed genuine enthusiam. Agent encouraged her. Agent, frankly, spent a helluva lot of time on this.

We are always warned not to make revisions without an official offer of representation. I learned my lesson the hard way--but after the initial devastation disappointment I moved on with a better manuscript and later found an agent. I honestly hope this will be the case with my friend--but I know this isn't something she wants to hear now.

She's allowed to be sad. I think we should let her be sad for a while. To say she's “disappointed” after months and months of this is the understatement of the century. Yeah, you gotta be tough in this business, but...damn!

The question is, why do certain agents do this: work so closely with an author for months on end--multiple emails, phone calls, editorial notes, reading, changing characterizations, etc.--without a formal agreement? Agents tell us all the time they need to be IN LOVE with our stories. If they don’t love the story no matter how well it’s written, they don’t take it, right? And who wants an agent who’s only semi-enthused?

So the question is: why?

1. Because they do love the story but they think your writing sucks? Hypothetically, if your writing does suck, can the story be so riveting, so irresistible that the agent believes he/she can mold you into a much better writer?

This seems unlikely. There are plenty of good writers with irresistible stories. And this particular friend doesn't suck.

2. Because they see potential in a good but not great story and believe it can be improved, so they decide to help you improve it—and, if satisfied, take you on as a client? Or not.

This seems unlikely, too. Aren’t agents busy enough with the great stories already in hand?

3. Because it’s a slow time of year and they’re twiddling their thumbs?

*I* have no idea. Anyone else care to guess?

Bummer

Max choked on a hot dog the other night. He swiped it off a plate in his familiar Helen Keller imitation. Beth had to stick her fingers in his mouth and literally drag it out of his throat. She still has her fingers.

I can't believe I said this to her. But I said, "Next time let him choke."

I'm still not sure if I meant that or not.

He's almost 17 with a serious thyroid tumor. He's stopped grooming himself. His belly fur is matted. I tried, gently, to brush him and he nearly took off my hand. His eyes are so hollow you can almost see his sinuses. He's skeletal. He's arthritic. NOT too arthritic, however, to climb onto the kitchen table and help himself to a bag of cheesey poofs. He opens the bag himself. Neatly, I might add.



I know I say this every few months (and he fools me every time) but the end is near. I think about taking him to the vet to do the dirty deed, but he goes berserk there. I'm not exaggerating. I'm talking about serious violence! He roars, claws, bites, spits, thrashes, and urinates. Tranking him only makes this worse. I don't want his last moments on earth to be spent in raging terror. Which, come to think of it, would be the case if she had let him choke. So I'm happy she didn't.

OK, that's depressing. Shutting about now about poor Max.

"Blood Brothers" Released!

Introducing:
BLOOD BROTHERS by S.A. Harazin--the newest release from the the CLASS OF 2K7!



Amazon: "Without his job at the hospital, Clay would be lost. The hard work, the struggles of the patients, the drama in the ERÑit makes his days worth something, and gives focus to his dream of someday becoming a doctor. Clay can't afford to go away to college like the rest of his graduating senior class, but what other 17-year-old has delivered a baby or helped save a life?

"Still, Clay wishes his life could be more like his best friend Joey's...a great family, a good college waiting for him at the end of the summer, money, a car. Clay has to bike everywhere, and the miles are starting to wear him down.

"But Joey's golden future shatters one day when he overdoses at a party. Now he's clinging to life at the hospital where Clay works, and Clay may even be implicated in Joey's injuries. Tension and emotion rise as those who love Joey gather and wait. Clay will do whatever he can to find out what happened at the party, and to help Joey recover. But to survive this ordeal Clay must draw on a strength he never knew he had."

Congratulations, Shirley!

Check out S. A. Harazin's Website

Jen's Table: A Warning

At Borders the other day, someone had nerve enough to sit at MY table.

Yes, "my" table. Mine, mine, mine!

This is a south-facing table. It's a well-known-sort-of-probably-true-fact that a south-facing table is good for the muse, not that I have one. If I did, though, she'd prefer me to face south. It's a double table, in the corner, right next to an outlet. Considering the fact that there are only 4 or 5 outlets in the place--and 2 are nowhere near the tables--this is a very good thing. It's also away from the door, meaning I won't freeze in the winter.

People often circle this table like a flock of ravenous vultures. Waiting...lurking...watching...licking their chops... I do the same thing. I freely admit it.

Each and every time that inconsiderate table-thief got up for a refill, pawed through his stuff (oooh, a Blackberry? Impressive!) or scratched his ass, I'm like: Is he leaving?? Is he leaving??

He didn't have a laptop. He was reading a BOOK. Now if it had been my book he was reading I might be more forgiving. I mean, look, dude, you can sit anywhere in the room, like over there...or over there... Yet he insisted on hogging my table, flipping through his book, sucking down a sissy latte, oblivious to my death rays.

For future reference, here's a picture of My Table:



Observe it. Commit it to memory. And in the future if you know I'm coming, do not sit at this table! Even if you don't know I'm coming, do not sit at this table because I might show up.

I need that outlet!

Hmmm...

Today's Horoscope: Your real growth these days is taking place deep within your subconscious mind and others probably won't even have a clue as to what you are processing. Nevertheless, this is a crucial time, for you are reconsidering basic assumptions that you may have taken for granted. You have come to the end of a road; be prepared to start on a new path in the days to come.

Maybe a new path to the nearest Botox clinic?

1977


2007

My Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom is: Ron Weasley chokes to death on a hot dog in the Forbidden Forest Get your Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom

A Very Long History of a Very Long Agent Hunt

I was asked on another forum how I got my agent so I thought I’d post it here as well:

2003: The novel is "finished" (I use the term loosely) and ready to go, but have NO IDEA where to start. No clue how to submit, the book's is waaaay too long, and I didn’t even "get" that it was really YA. I’m not internet savvy, I know no other writers, and I do very little research. I shot-gun agents straight out of Writers Market, maybe 5-10 at a time. I wait a few months till I get all the responses, then try again with another few queries. I get a couple of requests for partials and maybe one full. The partials are reject. The full is sent unopened because the manuscript's fricking HUGE. I even query a very well-known scam artist (no, not NYLA) who kindly refers me to an editor with the promise of looking at it again. I'm green, but not stoooopid. I spend a fortune on return postage because I’m worried someone might steal it, ha-ha-ha, as if. Hello? Like they can’t Xerox it first and THEN send it back? A total waste of money.

All of my rejections are form letters.

2004: I wise up. I discover the internet. I discover writers conferences. I talk to people online. I join a crit group. I drastically slash the word count. I learn more about the YA market. I thank God I didn’t send out 300 queries the previous year. I revise my ms. I revise my query letter and start sending it out again--VERY selectively--to a few YA agents at a time, still from Writers Market (I hadn’t heard about AgentQuery but I did learn to research these people first). Post office dude and I are on first name terms. He cringes when he sees me. I spend more time watching the mailbox than I do watching TV. I get a couple requests for partials. No dice. More rejections arrive, but of a more personal nature. Amazingly I get a request for a full from Writers House, woo-hoo! They LIKE it, but... Per the agent's request I excitedly revise the whole shebang. I resubmit. only to be rejected again.

In spite of feeling somewhat validated by that experience (hey, someone was interested enough to put in all that time) I lapse into a major snit. Merry Christmas.

2005: I decide, ok, this is my LAST CHANCE. If I don’t find an agent this year I’ll either start querying publishers (ha, good luck--I'd still be in the slush pile) or throw in the towel. Throwing in the towel sounds pretty damn good right about now. I’m tired of the whole thing. I pitch my copy of Writers Market, but I do forgive Writers House: thanks to them, I have a much stronger--and shorter-- manuscript.

Someone suggests looking at acknowledgement pages for specific agents' names. I spend hours in the library and bookstore doing exactly that. In one YA book I find the name of an agent at ICM.

This is how clueless I still am: With all the research I’ve done, I never heard of ICM. I check their website; you can’t really get into it, plus it says they take clients by referral only. This agent is big-time. The agency is BIG TIME. I’ve already been rejected by the smaller joints, so I doubt I stand a chance, but...

Screw it, I say. I query them anyway. I also send out 19 others and start a blog to track my progress. I decide this is IT. My nerves can’t take much more. In the meantime I've start a GREAT ghost story, lol.

Soon I get an email from Tina saying that the agent I queried passed my query onto HER (they really do that?). Could I mail her a partial? Gee, lemme think, lol. I'm still not hopeful because I’ve been through this a thousand times. And there's always my ghost story...assuming I finish it one of these decades.

A miracle happens. Suddenly I get requests for fulls and partials from several major agencies. And within the same freaking week Tina writes back, says she loooved my pages, could I send the whole thing? One catch: she only reads on an exclusive basis.

Now I freak out. Everyone tells me: do NOT give an exclusive, oh, no, no, no! Do I give her the exclusive and ignore the others—including Charlotte Sheedy and Evan Marshall???

But I think, wait, Tina already READ my work! The others hadn’t. And I highly doubt Charlotte and Evan are waiting with bated breath.

I ask for a time frame. Three weeks, she says. So I blow off the others (though I later sent them thank you notes) –and three weeks later Tina calls to say: “I LOVE your book and I’d like to represent you.”

I thank her politely, chat for a few minutes.

Then hang up the phone and SCREAM! :)

The PENGUINS Have Landed!

CONGRATULATIONS to Greg R. Fishbone--esteemed prez of --and his new MG novel THE PENQUINS OF DOOM...From the Desk of Septina Nash:


From Septina herself:

Dear Reader,
In order to make this book I had to escape from a mad scientist, adopt a trio of wild penguins, become an Olympic freestyle skateboarder, collect a whole bunch of empty yogurt containers, and find my missing tripletsister. In order to enjoy it, all you have to do is read every page. Thanks for doing your part!
Sincerely,
Septina Nash, Main Character

A huge congratualtions to Greg--and Septina!--and MANY, MANY THANKS for helping to make the CLASS OF 2k7 a success. SMOOOOCH!

Ba-ZOOOOOONGAS!

BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS. BAZOONGAS.
Don't mind me. I'm just trying to boost my blog rating closer to PG-13.
BAZOONGAS BANNED BY CANADIAN LIBRARY

Rejections, rejections (naughty word warning)

Ha, are you a wee bit tempted to RESPOND to your latest crummy rejection? Unless you have virgin ears, turn on your sound. Cartoon lips are, like, impossible to read.
--swiped from a private forum I belong to after it was swiped from another private forum somebody else belongs to. :D

TWO New 2k7 BOOK RELEASES

The Lastest New Releases from the CLASS OF 2k7!

Introducing Ann Dee Ellis's YA novel THIS IS WHAT I DID:



Amazon: "Imagine if you had witnessed something horrific. Imagine if it had happened to your friend. And imagine if you hadn't done anything to help. That's what it's like to be Logan, an utterly frank, slightly awkward, and extremely loveable outcast enmeshed in a mysterious psychological drama. This story allows readers to piece together the sequence of events that has changed his life and changed his perspective on what it means to be a good friend and what it means to be a good person... This is What I Did: is a powerful read with clever touches, such as palindrome notes, strewn throughout the story and incorporated into the unique design of the book."

And also introducing REVENGE OF THE HOMECOMING QUEEN by Stephanie Hale:



Amazon: "All that matters is what's inside...as long as there's a tiara on the outside. The flawless Aspen Brooks was born to be Homecoming Queen. Naturally she's dating the most popular guy in school, and she's blessed with stunning good looks, excellent style, and mega brains. She's got the crown in the bag. So why is the tiara being placed on the skanky head of cheerleader Angel Ives? The confusion only grows after ultra-dork Rand Bachrach is crowned king. To Aspen's shock and horror, Angel actually accuses her of being behind this. Whatevs!

"But then something goes terribly, terribly wrong. Strange things start happening--even stranger than Angel beating Aspen. Now someone's leaving her threatening messages and slashing her tires. She's sure it's that beyotch Angel doing these things. And if Angel wants war, by Dooney & Bourke she'll get one."


Many congrats to Ann Dee and Stephanie!!! :) :) :)

Beauty Shop Interview and Two GORGEOUS Men

For anyone who missed it, here is my Beauty Shop Interview with fellow 2k7er Laura Bowers, author of of the fabulous BEAUTY SHOP FOR RENT.

Thank you, Laura. NO MORE PERMS FOR ME! That one literally ATE my hair. My roots dissolved. I'm kind of glad I don't have a scanner because I'd be waaaay too tempted to post a picture of that disaster. Ugh.

But I think I'm hooked on manicures.

And--I'm so very, very grateful the Concert for Diana went off without incident in London yesterday, that everyone stayed SAFE and had a wonderful time. Wouldn't Diana be proud of these two amazing young men??


Media Image

I wish I could've worked this concert into my busy schedule, sigh. :) :) :) And I'm still trying to figure out how to hook Beth up with Harry.

Zzzzz....

Well, I revised for straight 7 hrs. Shawna drank a bottle of wine, punched a boy in the nose, kissed her best friend on the lips, and ran over a raccoon.

Shawna's not gay. Shawna's...confused. And a very bad driver.

I'm exhausted. Good-night!

Sunday

My last day of freedom and what have I done today so far?

1. Did not write.

2. Drank coffee.

3. Grocery shopped. Ohhhhhhh GAWD how I despise that chore!!! And I went to the "good" store too which means nobody pissed me off--except for the fact they didn't put my milk in bags and I was too busy unloading to notice. WTF? Yes, that's what I like--four gallons of 2% bumping around in a filthy trunk so I can take them home and stick them in my fridge with the rest of the food. GROSS. It should be PRESUMED that normal hygienically-conscious people prefer their milk in bags.

4. Did not write.

5. Drank coffee.

6. Wrote this.

7. Now I am going to "prepare a meal" for my family--stuffed cabbage, ready-to-go--so somebody can throw it in the oven and *I* won't have to rush home from Borders to slave over a stove.

8. Then I will write. After I drink some more coffee.