Today I...

You know that scene in the old "Superman" movie, where Superman (a la Christopher Reeve) circles the earth at hyperspeed? Today that was me, chasing my toddler.

It was a fun day because my mom is here visiting. She has been serving as my writing consultant--which I am sure she did not bargain for--and while driving home from the bookstore this evening, she helped me considerably with my opening scene. Between children bickering, me threatening them and aforementioned toddler throwing items all around the car, my mom got me over my mental block on how to write the dialogue for this scene! 

I hope.

It really helps to have someone in the house who watches Jane Austen movies. 

I think I need to get a scheduled rotation going of live-in consultants. People (females only, please) who will let me talk through scenes and plot and characters and brainstorm with me. My mom leaves Saturday; who wants to be penciled in for the 2nd week in March? Anyone? Anyone? ...

Bueller? 

Here is a view from my chair, where I am sitting right now.  Please note the following details: 
  1) the all-important magic yellow Diet Coke cup, given 
      to me by my neighbor & friend Christine. It is one of
      the items I will grab on my way out the door if ever we 
      have a house fire. 
          (Christine, if you're reading this, thank you from the 
                 bottom of my caffeine-addicted heart. Stay gold.)

  2) my midnight snack of brie and baguette. Why can I not
      crave something healthy & good for me, like tofu? 
     
   3) a new book I hauled home from the bookstore, hugging it
      like a little girl with her teddy bear. 

  4) the bowl behind my monitor from last night's midnight 
      snack of tofu. Mint chip ice cream-flavored tofu.  

I have been re-working my opening scene and currently have three versions. 
  Version 1
  Scene opens with heroine spying at library keyhole and 
  gets caught.

  Version 2
  Scene opens with heroine running down the stairs, racing
  to reach the library before her brother & the hated Lord 
  Markston (yes I changed his name & will probably change it again) come in the 
  front door. 


  Version 3
  Scene opens with heroine already sitting in a chair before 
  the fire, smug that for once she is there first and plans to 
  give him a piece of her mind for leading her brother astray
  with his dastardly dastard-ness. But politely.  Mustn't
  allow the social graces to lapse of course, even when 
  telling off your nemesis. I think it has something to do with
  wearing a corset. 


Without knowing much detail (I'm too lazy tonight to give back story), which version do you prefer? 


And here's to hoping that my Big Yellow Cup of diet coke doesn't keep me up until 3am.

Friday Funny

I love this today!

Chapter One

...in which our heroine lands herself in

a very indelicate position.

“This is entirely beneath me,” Charlotte muttered under her breath as she lowered herself to her knees. One should never be on all fours if one was angry. It felt wrong to be in the position of a supplicant when what she really wanted to do was blow through that door and smash a plate over the head of one insufferable Lord Durham.

     “Where is the blasted man?” she muttered again as she strained her eye to catch a glimpse of the scene inside.  A short burst of laughter, deep and masculine, came from stage right, out of peeping range. Ah. They were in front of the fire, then. She gritted her teeth. This made the third consecutive week that her brother had returned home from his Wednesday meeting with that scoundrel. 
     “We’ll just retire for a game of backgammon and to have a tot,” Lord Durham had said in a deceptively bland tone tonight as he had shut her library doors—hers!—in her face. “Manly things, you understand.” She rolled her eyes. Yes, so very manly. As if anyone could envision the infamous Lord Durham having a "tot" of spirits. Tots were for elderly aunties. That odious man was sure to swig straight from the bottle. 

[Charlotte's Mayfair townhouse]

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is, blogsters! 

A wee preview of The Book. 

Thoughts? 

Critiques, if you please!

It's 2011 and I:
 * am writing a book (halfway done!)
 * have started wogging again (not quite running yet)
 * chose my word for the year. "Unstoppable."
 * try not to curl into the fetal position every night after a 
    long day with a busy toddler
 * challenge myself to blog every day
 * need a night out. Tonight. (any takers? females only, please.)


 * This makes me happy. 

Fa La La La La...Fell into the Toilet

I am happy to report that the stuffing of the fourth grade take-home folders yesterday was uneventful. I pulled it off without a hitch, due largely (totally) to the fact that the toddler stayed home and, instead of wreaking havoc upon the 4th graders, wreaked havoc in his natural habitat.


December has been a flurry of activity and mishaps. Treat making, house decorating, advent activity-ing, gingerbread cookie-ing, hand slicing, burning hot melted chocolate in aforementioned wound...


(yes. I spilled 3,000 degree chocolate over the cut on my sliced-up finger. It was like a twisted Freddie Kreuger Hallmark Movie.)


...errand running, to-and-from Idaho road-tripping, Christmas cards in the Costco shopping cart leaving, English toffee making, sick children nursing, in-laws for a week visiting, basketball game-ing, guitar lesson-ing, Chili's Night with friends celebrating, boys haircutting, Christmas plays at school watching, visiting teaching, birthday partying, game nighting, HOUSE CLEANING (which lasted for 2.5 seconds), list-making, freezer dinner flurrying (I made 10 dinners and stocked my freezer), present wrapping, almost-getting-my-power-shut-off panicking, card addressing (someone turned my cards into the Costco info desk when they found them abandoned in a cart), phone in toilet dropping (Jack strikes again)....


...lots of that kind of stuff.


Sadly, I do not have any photos to add to this documentation because I take pictures with my phone. 


The same phone that was kerplunked into the toilet by my toddler. 


The same toddler that is now for sale. 

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

Every Monday morning I show up bright and early (9:20am), dressed to impress and cheery as can be (sweaty running clothes and slightly groggy) to do the Monday Folders for Isabelle’s class at school. It is my job to stuff the childrens’ folders with approximately 217 papers each…sign-ups for the school play, classroom weekly newsletter, PTA reminders, and the like.

This is a great gig because for 30 short minutes I can monitor Isabelle’s behavior, get a read on her social skills, shoot the occasional evil eye at the classroom bully and eavesdrop on the teacher.

Yesterday, for the first time, I took the toddler. 

Yesterday was not a great gig.

I thought surely Jack would sit in the reading corner, happy to experience a bean bag for the first time, read a book and watch the students. He did! For about three minutes, until he spotted Isabelle. Evidently, Jack did not understand this is where his big sister disappears to every day.

         “Sis!” he shouted happily, and ran to her desk.  He wanted to sit on her lap, explore the wonders of her (messy) desk and chill with the boys on either side of her.

Pretending to be invisible—which I was not...all 24 kids were highly amused—I patiently dragged him back to the beanbag and plopped several engaging books in his lap.

Jack again escaped to her desk, I pulled him away, got 2 papers inserted into folders, Jack escaped again, I pulled him back…you get the picture.

Finally, he pretended to just stay on the beanbag. Until I turned my back and was lulled into complacency, stuffing maybe a grand total of 3 folders. Then he quietly got off the beanbag, sneaked around behind me THE LONG WAY, behind the teacher’s desk, and then ran full speed to Isabelle—watched by 24 children with bated breath.

         “Sis!” he called, “Hewwp!” (help) The class erupted in laughter—of the Little Rascals variety. (someone please tell me you know what I mean by that.)

Meanwhile, I was DRESSED IN LAYERS. And I had forgotten that the school keeps the thermostat at what surely must be 940 degrees. We were providing quite the entertainment—and I was getting sweatier by the moment. Steam was coming off my head, from heat and toddler-induced grizzlement.

Somehow all the folders got stuffed, while I was trying unsuccessfully to stifle my exasperation, and I sped over to the cubbies to throw all the folders into the kids’ respective slots and get the crap out of there. 

It was at this point that Jack discovered the recess bin. The bin that holds all the 4-square balls. The balls that bounce really high. And make a loud, echo-y “BOING!” noise.

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”         

“BOING!”

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”

Seriously, no less than six balls were sent bouncing in quick succession all over the classroom like pinballs. With ensuing Little Rascals laughter.

I tossed the few remaining folders on the teacher’s desk and got the heck out of there. Straight to McDonald’s, where Jack got an ice cream (don’t judge my negative reinforcement) and I downed a XL Diet Coke in 37 seconds flat.

And my final thought is this: Good thing Isabelle's class had a substitute that day. 

My new BFF this week.