Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday.

I got nothin’.

I have corrections to make on a novella so my agent can submit it.

I have worrying to do over the books the agent sent off to editors in NYC. A whole bunch of big editors are reading it and I have a long wait ahead of me. Oh dear. Not big like fat, big like important. Please, Important Editors, don’t think for one minute I was calling you fat. I’m sure you are ideally svelte. And smart. And you know funny, charming books when you read them. My agent is dying to hear from you. I think I might start drinking.

There are 15 days until I go on vacation and it feels like 15 months.

It’s supposed to get cold this weekend and none of my fat winter-clothes fit.

I just signed up with Pinterst. I fear that I will never get anything done ever again. I added a button (all by myself!) on the right if you want to follow me while I screw around.

Sigh. Wednesday’s are always like this.

I am easily irritated. This is a condition that all of the Sisters are subject to, and it, in itself, is an irritant.

The following is a VERY short list of stuff that bugs me.

People who ask me what I’m reading while I’m sitting in a coffee shop reading.

Morons who use a personalized license plate to state what kind of car it is, e.g. “lexus” on a Lexus.

People who are allergic to everything.

People who won’t stop talking. Ever. Even when you clearly are in no mood to listen.

Children who insist on having a home lunch but then waste it when school lunch is better that day.

Drive throughs that get your order wrong but you don’t figure it out until much too late.

Husbands who won’t let you have a puppy.

Presidential candidates who sing hymns at a press conference.

People who jack up the newspaper before you have a chance to read it.

Junk mail

The fact that my kids only got one Butterfinger in their Halloween buckets this year.

My piece of crap Samsung android phone. Absolutely the biggest piece of garbage I’ve ever had the misfortuune to own. I’ve been with Sprint FOREVER and they need to do something about this. TODAY. It’s so bad I’m even considering bailing on my contract and my service with them. Sprint should contact me RIGHT AWAY.

**This is Kelli interjecting on Amylynn’s splendid post to vent about a few things that have irritated me greatly, of late.

Following people that drive 35mph in a 55mph zone, but when you turn the corner behind them onto a road with a 35mph speed limit, they decide to go 60. Really? 

People who pick their noses at stop lights.

People who pick their noses while waiting in line at the grocery store.

The strange, smeary liquid on the conveyor belt at the grocery store that I’m supposed to place my items on. NOT.

The employees of said grocery store, who having seen me there for the past 4 years, still stop to cheerily ask me if I am finding everything ok just because they are walking by. Eight to ten times a visit. Seriously, I think they need check-out help in aisle 4, buddy.

Strangers who start off conversations with “I don’t mean to bother you…” because they clearly are. Bothering me. And finish with “but could you show me how your Kindle works? I want to get one for (insert name here) for their (birthday, easter, christmas, hanukkah, half-year birthday) gift.”  The answer is “NO! GO LOOK AT ONE FOR YOURSELF! I AM NOT AN AMAZON SALESPERSON!!”

Strangers who hover over me at Starbucks and say “Is that an iPad?”

People who don’t shower.

People who don’t shower OR brush their hair and walk around in the world expecting to be taken seriously.  

Ok, I’ll stop…Kelli, signing off…***

That is by no means a comprehensive list. This is mearly the few things that came immediately to me. What just drives you completely batty? Don’t make me add to this list.

My brother and I took a lady bug and Captain America out trick or treating tonight with a pirate and a bride. When we started the evening, Captain America was like a wild thing. He bounced from house to house, hooting and hollering like a Halloween lunatic. Seven zig zagging blocks later and the Captain had deflated. He couldn’t even carry his own bucket of candy anymore.

I egged him on, urged him forward. We were six blocks from home and there were still porch lights on. “Come on, dude. Put some effort into it.”

I remember the previous year which houses gave away the full size candy bars and shoved him up those walkways. We were almost to the house where the retired Ringling Bros clown lived – there’s no way we weren’t going there. He whined and pissed and moaned. I carried his shield and mask and eventually the candy bucket. He begged me to carry him. He wanted to go back and get the car. When I refused that he then suggested I go get our wagon and tow him from house to house. I assured him that walking was the price one paid for a bucket of candy.

Even with all the bitching, we had a good time and made a pretty good haul. There were several houses that really got into the festivities and that’s always fun. There were even a couple of zombies roaming the streets.

And Captain American kept wishing everyone Happy Hanukkah. I don’t know what that’s all about but you have to agree it was funny.

 Happy Halloween to you all, ghosts and gobblins!

I’m watching The Walking Dead even as I write this which is sure to put a person in the Halloween spirit.

Our pumpkins are carved, and no one opened a vein which I always worry about when I’m working with crazy, big knives.

Any Halloween visit that doesn’t include a trip to the ER is always a success.

We’ll all have to race home early from work since it gets dark so blessed early now.  I’m certain I can expect the nagging phone calls from Sassy to begin the minute she gets home from school.

Here’s to getting more treats than tricks

(To Suzy – 10 years today. I just can’t imagine that’s possible. Wish you were here.)

I feel like I’m cheating you, oh faithful reader, by putting up all these photos to comment on, but when I saw this on one of my favorite blogs, The Goddess Blogs. Apparently Karen Hawkins (an absolutely lovely lady) gave this to Suzanne Enoch.

I think it’s completely hysterical. 

My Honey and I are always trying Jedi mind tricks on the kids. They rarely work anymore. I sort of hate it that they’re getting smarter.

There is a book coming out that I’m very excited about. This happens to me all the time. I get almost as excited about some book releases as I do about the latest superhero movie.

Do you remember those old Mervyn’s ads where the lady is waiting outside in the dark for the store to open for a big sale. “Open open open.”

That’s me at the bookstore on Tuesdays. Tuesdays is almost always new release day. “Open open open.” Of course I can always preorder books on Amazon, but usually I buy my new releases from a brick and morter store (or adobe).  I love holding a new book in my hands. It’s such a tactile pleasure.

I also look forward to figuring out how to sneak my new purchases into the house. Some women have to sneak in new shoes. I have to figure out how to get new books in the house without My Honey seeing. I find that shoving a paperback down the back of my pants works pretty well – not so much with a hardcover copy. That takes a little more cunning. Usually a diversion is in order. He’s not falling for the old, “Look! The Goodyear blimb!” anymore. It’s really a shame.  Now I have to let the dog out the front door or run past the living room really fast, but I suspect he sees through my ruses. Sadly, I even think he was secretly relieved when Borders closed down. It was one less

Anyway the latest book I want is The 50 Funniest American Writers: An Anthology of Humor from Mark Twain to The Onion by blogger Andy Borowitz. The Huffington Post had the following from him today:

While editing my new book, The 50 Funniest American Writers: An Anthology of Humor from Mark Twain to The Onion, I made a discovery: “If Mark Twain had had Twitter, he would have been amazing at it. But he probably wouldn’t have gotten around to writing Huckleberry Finn.” The following are some of the most hilarious quotes by some of America’s funniest writers featured in my book (and they all fit perfectly into 140 characters).

This is my favorite of the quotes, maybe because of how Sassy and I are getting along this week.

I had the worst day. Just plain awful. Then I came home from work and it was worse.

It’s nights like this that makes you want to get your own apartment.

I’ve been holding on to this picture for just a day like today when there is no way a witty little bon mott is coming out of my imagination.

I read all of the Twilight books (I’ll never get that time back) and all the Anne Rice Interview books (the mystique was lost on me there, too.) Honestly, I think both of those series have WAY TOO MUCH WHINING!

Now, the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris – totally blows those other vampires out of the water.

click for a larger image

Do you remember how I’ve told you I have issues with “perfectionism-mania”? That’s a word my mother and I made up to describe the craziness that ensues when I have made up in my mind exactly what I want but, sadly, that thing doesn’t exist.

It’s why I can’t ever be Cinderella for Halloween.

Whoever drew this cartoon (the brilliant people at Shoebox) might have been listening in to a conversation in my head. I can totally see myself being completely fixated on finding something as impossible as a blow up Cthulhu.

I’m a lunatic.

I totally get it.

Ava wanted to know if I wanted my own hotel room when we were out of town or if we just wanted to bunk together. “Of course, you can have your own, but just know I’ll be over there all the time anyway.”

Of course, I picked the sleepover. It just seemed stupid not to. We’re compatible roommates.

Ava got to the hotel first on Sunday and she texted me that the room was HUGE. And when I arrived on Wednesday night I agreed. The hotel was lovely and the room was nicely decorated.

There were a few oddities, however.

“What the hell is that?” I asked pointing to the peephole in the middle of the door at about bellybutton level. There was another one at the normal height.

Later, I mentioned that the bed was really, really low to the floor.

“I know!” Ava exclaimed. “That’s what I thought.” So we lay in bed and contemplated the lowness of the bed. We finally came to the conclusion that it must be due to the Contemporary decor.

When we were down in the lobby, Ava mentioned it to the front desk. “Yeah,” the clerk informed her. “You booked a handicapped room.”

Aha!

For the rest of our stay, we kept having those “aha!” moments.

Aha! That explained the bars in the shower and around the toilet.

Aha! That explained the closet – the hanging bar was about three feet off the floor which was a problem if you had a dress.

Honestly, for as long as it took us to figure out the deal, perhaps the handicapped room isn’t really for wheelchairs but for those of us who should ride the little bus to work.

It’s still a million degrees out here in the desert regardless of the date on the calendar. While that was always lovely when Halloween came around and you didn’t have to wear a coat over your costume when you trick-or-treated, it’s not so lovely at noon on a Tuesday when you dehydrate on the way across the parking lot. It also sort of lessens the thrill of hunting for the perfect pumpkin if you get sunburned while you’re wandering around in the patch. And yet, we still found five things to amuse….

1. Yurts. The word yurt conjures up pictures of Mongolians with scraggily beards, running around in the freezing cold, wearing those yak-skin coats. This Yurt defies that stereotype. There are no descendants of Genghis Kahn charging around routing villagers near this yurt. Neiman Marcus won’t stand for that nonsense and neither do the Sisters. This little beauty is from the Neiman’s Christmas catalog and only cost 75,000. It’s filled with one of a kind feather pillows, a handcrafted crystal chandelier, and the walls are linen tapestry. It was designed with I Dream of Jeannie’s bottle in mind. Just think of the wonderful stories we could write in this luxury. When you see Santa…

2. Quitting. Do you remember that Jet Blue airline steward who famously quit his job by cussing out a customer over the PA system, triggering the emergency escape slide, grabbing a beer and leaving the plane on the tarmac? He was our hero for a while there. Well, we have a new front runner in the category of Best Way to Quit Your Job. Joey had had it with his job at a major hotel chain so when he went to quit, he brought a marching band with him. Ladies and gentle,men, that is style. The Sister’s decided when we quit Bank of No Forks, we’re going to bring KISS with us.

3. Hotel rooms. Traveling for work sucks. No doubt about it. The only plus is an expense account and a hotel room. Even though we don’t sleep really great in hotels because it’s not our own bed, there is still something wholly luxurious about sleeping in a hotel room. The sheets are soft, the pillows squishy, the towels freshly laundered. There’s cute soap and stuff in the bathroom. There are no children fighting. No dog hogging all the leg room. You can watch whatever you want on TV. It’s nice – just so long as you don’t have to do it very often. Thank you, Mr. Hyatt.

4. Gadhafi. He’s dead. The Sisters disapprove of dictatorships of any kind, unless we’re the ones doing the dictating. But, now that it’s over, what we find is the most pressing consideration is not the fate of NATO, or the Middle East, or what have you. There’s not a thing we can do about any of that. What we really want to know is, what’s gonna happen to his wardrobe? The man may have been the devil himself, but he knew how to dress. Look at these gorgeous textiles. Call us shallow if you will, and we dare say you won’t be the first, but you have to agree with us when we say – the man had style.

5. Dinner with NewMexiken. As mentioned above, we don’t like business trips, we do like hotel rooms, and we LOVE going to dinner with Amylynn’s Uncle, NewMexiKen and his lady, Donna. They took us to a charming little restaurant in Old Town. Really Old Town. The building that housed the restaurant was 305 years old. There were margaritas and much laughing and we had a fabulous time. If you must go away, make sure you do it to a place where you have charming family.