I was home with a sick kid today. It all started around 1am the night before when Sassy came into the office and heaved up her dinner and her socks. That went on for hours. At one point, when I’m certain I saw her feet come up, she turned to me and said, “Am I gonna be alright?”

Poor little pumpkin. I let her stay home from school, of course, and I was exhausted from being up all night with her, too. We never got out of our pajamas – not even when I took The Bandit to school. We watched HBO all day. And I was pleased when she kept down toast and mac & cheese. Then I made her take a nap after lunch even though she insisted she didn’t need one. Well I did, so I folded us into my big bed and we slept for another five hours.

There was one thing that happened that almost caused me to have a heart attack. I received an email out of the blue from one of the NYC editors who is reading my manuscript. She has a very distinctive name which I recognized immediately. She has my email because I met her at the Tucson Festival of Books earlier this year. We correspond several times so I am obviously still in her contact list.

I took a deep breath and clicked on the email. I was absolutely certain that the only reason she was emailing me was because she read my manuscript and loved it. What else could she possibly want?

Her email made no sense. It was theater notes about a play she’s in. I didn’t read very far because it was clearly not for me. It turns out her email when haywire and her message went out to her entire contact list.

Honestly, I don’t know if my heart could take another close call like that. It was torturous.

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.