This post is sooooo not as exciting as the previous post. Go read it again. I’ll wait.
I finished book 10 of the 11 today. That puts me at 3,104 pages and 15 days to read the last book.
Go read the previous post one more time. It’ll make you feel good.
I can’t stop giggling and My Honey has asked me to please stop hitting him.
I SOLD A STORY TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I received the news today on my Blackberry. I get my emails all through the day that way. Sometimes I think that it’s not good for my sanity. I checked my email approximately 16,354,808,676 since I submitted my story on Valentines Day.
Side note: how fitting is that? A romance on Valentines Day!
I work with Isabella’s husband (and Isabella, too, but she wasn’t in today) and he was standing right next to me when I read the email. He was a little alarmed when I shrieked and starting jumping around. I thrust the phone at him so he could read it. I am quite sure that he is bruised from my over exuberance.
So I called Isabella. No answer. I called Ava. No answer. I called My Honey. NO FRIGGIN ANSWER! Seriously people. AAARRRRGGGG! I called my mom and thank God (the God of call waiting) she answered the phone. I called another very good friend at my old job and she didn’t answer. It was agony.
I’m going to institue a new policy. When I call ANSWER THE FREAKING PHONE.
Anywho – I finally talked to all the important people so …..Yea for me!
Now I get to think of all kinds of exciting things like COVER ART (giggle giggle). Isabella, Ava and I are going to celebrate with cake as soon as the three of us can get into the same room together.
Rest assured, I’ll be keeping you posted with all the details and how to buy it as soon as that information is available.
I realize that there is a lot of examples of ALL CAPS here but be patient with me. I’m sure My Honey would be happy for you to come over and get hit for a while.
I think our blog might be haunted. Every once in a while it changes it’s own settings. The one that drives me the most crazy is that every so often, it decides all on its own that it no longer wants to accept comments.
ANYWAY – Isabella has fixed it yet again.
Comment away, people, so I’ll know you’re out there.
I’ve told you these pages before that My Honey is a musician. He’s very serious about it, too.
Well the kids across the street have formed a “band”.
There are two things I’d like to bring to your attention about that sentence: “the kids across the street have formed a “band”.
1) I am appalled that I have called them kids. Good lord, when did I get this old? But they are kids – all of them 16 or 17. I sincerely hope I’m not “that old lady” that lives across the street.
2) I have also referred to them as a “band”. This is using the term “band” and that they play “music” in the loosest possible interpretation of those words. It’s not for a lack of trying that their music is bad, nay terrible. Those boys are out there every damn night but there has been no improvement. God help us all – the God of earplugs and sound ordinances.
We were sitting down for dinner tonight and I opened the blind over the dining table because I like to watch the neighborhood while we eat. The weirdos from my neighborhood are a far sight less disturbing than watching my children eat. So as I ate the delicious orange chicken that my husband prepared, I begin to see the band members start to arrive. About the time the garage door opened across the street, I notice that My Honey has a very surly expression on his face.
“What’s with you?” I ask
“I just don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to put up with that,” he replies.
I look at the children. I assume that it’s some new obnoxious behavior from Sassy and The Bandit to which he is referring. It was true that neither child was sitting in their chair. It was also true that they were both singing with half masticated food in their mouths. I suspect that Sassy wasn’t using a fork either, but I couldn’t understand why all of a sudden this appalling behavior was too much to bear.
“What?” I ask.
He gestures out the window. “That. I can’t take it.” His face is deadly serious. He means it.
So I shifted my attention back to the growing crowd across the street. “Do you mean them?”
“Why? Is it because there is so many of them over there? They’re not doing anything bad.” He just glares at me and all of a sudden it dawns on me. “Oh! It’s because they’re so awful isn’t it?”
“OH MY GOD! They’re horrible.” He is startlingly serious.
“Oh come on. At least they’re not coming over here to ask you for advice. And really, it wasn’t that long ago when you were in awful teenage band.”
He’s not moving from his implacable opinion. I myself, the admitted hater of other people, surprisingly don’t have a problem with the band.
What I will have a problem with is the teenage groupies, the girls with too much makeup on and too tight pants, that will inevitably show up.
At that point, I’ll grab the garden hose.
Finished book 9. It was my day off today and since Ava stood me up for lunch (entirely not her fault by the way) I got a lot of reading done. So I’ll start book 10 tonight or tomorrow. That’s 2,831 pages read.
ALSO, just to keep you from worrying too much, I also tell you that I wrote 7 new pages yesterday. That pleases me immensely. I hate to be in a rut.
First some business and then some whining…..
I posted another article on Examiner.com. Go on and read it. I dare you.
Second, the whining (this is my favorite part).
I texted the Sisters last night and told them I was due for a little sisterly butt-kicking. I sent the text much too late for either of them to respond last night. For God’s sake (the God who invented clocks and early bed times) I sent the text at 8:58. Isabella had probably been in bed since 6:30 (I’m not kidding – she’s building a human so I’ll cut her some slack), and Ava probably turned in around 8ish simply because she’s a wimp. But, both of my sisters called this morning to find out what my problem was and to issue the appropriate amount of a$$ whooping.
My problem is that I’ve not written a real word on It’s Clearly Love’s revision for probably three weeks. THREE WEEKS!! That’s appalling. I go and stare at the computer and then I open the Internet and all is lost. My Honey assumed that all that time spent in the office was due to some outrageous word output, but no. He just wrinkled his eyebrows and looked at me when I confessed.
I told My Honey and the sisters to make me be accountable for some serious work tonight. All three are supposed to make me tell them what I accomplished in the morning, and they’ll all know if I’m lying.
But the Olympics are ooooooooooon. Deep sigh.
Finished with book 8. That’s 2,520 pages. It was alright but it frustrated me a bit. The story ended with a real eye roller which I guess isn’t the best, most glowing endorsement.
On to book 9 – it needs to be read in 10.67 days. I think I can handle that.
The picture above is of me this morning. I’m just so weary of all the young men bringing me presents every day. I had to have my maid turn them away.
My Honey, the dear man that he is, brought me the traditional Godiva chocolate for Valentine’s Day. And this made me wonder about the history of Valentine gifts – especially candy.
During the 1800’s, doctors commonly suggested that their lovelorn patients eat lots of chocolate to soothe their nerves and calm their emotions.
As an elixir for love, chocolate has been believed throughout history to bring smiles to the broken-hearted and to prompt amorous feelings in both men and women. It is believed that Madame Du Barry served it to all her suitors; Casanova consumed chocolate instead of champagne to induce
I saw it suggested that some people in other parts of the world celebrate Valentine’s day with gifts of fruit.
I’m here to tell you right now, that’s not going to work out for me.