Dear MS Word Grammar Police,

Thank you for being so thorough.

Truly, I never would have guess that the sentence, "I'm going to believe him" should actually be "I is going to believe him."

Obviously, my education was sorely lacking.

Sincerely,
Thumper

After a horrific drive to Borders today (saw the aftermath of one 3 car accident and three minutes later saw a Toyota Yaris--same car I drive--plow into the side rail at about 40mph...it didn't hold up very well which freaks me out just a little) I managed to finish the first draft of my current work in progress.

My first 3 books weighed in at roughly 113,000 words each and the 4th one a mere 58,000.

This one? Right now it's between 160,000 and 170,000 words. That's like, a lot.

Clearly I'll be doing a whole bunch of editing over the next few drafts. I should probably set it aside for a couple of weeks, but I don't have any other work lined up, so I may plunge back into it tonight after the Spouse Thingy leaves for work. Or I may just sit here and drool on myself. Not sure yet.

And because she asked, Yes, Charlie, this one picks up just a couple of weeks after the end of Finding Father Rabbit. You get your wish. It may suck, but you're gonna get your wish.

See what a good friend I am? I write on command.

And don't tell me trained seals work on command, too, or I'll have to hurt someone...

I am so very, very glad that I developed the habit of saving my work to a flash drive instead of just the hard drive, or today I would have lost an entire manuscript--just half a chapter to go, and this sucker is about 160,000 words at this point--when the laptop crashed.

Save, save, save, and BACK UP your data sooner rather than later...

Validation.
Told ya she wasn't asleep...
Only plus is that it seems to have worked out for the tattoo artist.

It's 95 degrees out and your child has a realistic looking life sized baby doll, which came along for the ride when you went shopping. Do you:

a) Take the doll with you when you exit the car?
b) Put the doll in the trunk?
c) Put the doll in your child's car seat, thereby causing a mass of concerned adults to swarm around your car, debating on whether to just call 911, break the window and call 911, or break the window and then beat your sorry ass when you get back, and then call 911?

If you shopped at the Nut Tree Shopping Center in Vacaville, CA today, you chose the wrong answer.

Oh, and you can thank the old lady with the walker for writing "It's a doll" on your window with lipstick. She probably saved you some serious bucks, because surely the next people passing by would have noted the same thing the first group did, and they might have chosen to beat your ass...

For when you really really really don't want your date to get away...


Available at Think Geek

Ok, you do not go in for a tattoo ON YOUR FACE and fall asleep. No freaking way. This kid got exactly what she asked for and regretted it afterward, now she's suing the tattoo artists for giving her 56 stars on her face when she only wanted three.

Kids, don't tattoo your face.

Ever.

It'll save you from crap like this...

You know you've gone too long without a blog post when you forget your password...

I am seriously blog-blocked of late. 99.9% of my writing has gone into a new manuscript, which is rapidly becoming bloated. With about 15% still to go it's already at over 130,000 words--a good 27,000 more than the final draft of Charybdis.

Much editing to do during the next few drafts...

Dear Kanye West,

Please shut up. Really. Shut the Phk up before you look even dumber than you already apper to be. Because quotes such as this

Sometimes people write novels and they just be so wordy and so self-absorbed. I am not a fan of books. I would never want a book’s autograph.

only reinforce the notion that you're a very rich, spoiled, and not terribly bright man.

Oh, and that 52 page missive loaded with your own words of wisdom, with pearls such as "I hate the word hate!" and the occasional blank page...please don't publish that. And if there's a publisher out there that would actually pay you money and then spend real cash to distribute it to the masses... Let us all pray that it's printed on toilet paper and not bound in book form.

Your fifteen minutes are up, Kanye. I appreciate your talent for hip hop, but come on. It's time to go. And on your way our, please take note that George Bush never hated black people, you are not the demigod you seem to believe, and a book can't sign a freaking autograph.

To my parents...



HAPPY 60th ANNIVERSARY!!!

These kids in the national spelling bee, they're making me feel stupid...

Sometimes California really sucks...

How spoiled am I?
The Spouse Thingy set this up for me while he was off last week:



I can work from the bedroom now, AND it's huge, so I can actually see what I'm working on. If I run MS Word at 160% view on this thing, I don't even have to squint.

When I need to, I can close the door so there's no more worrying about someone wandering through my office while I'm buried deep within a scene, because if that happened one more time...well...there might have been screaming and perhaps a little blood involved.

It's conducive to watching TV in bed together, too, in case you need to be convinced that you, too, want this sweet, sweet setup.

But I don't think the Spouse Thingy will come over and bolt it to the wall for you. Not without payment. You'd have to offer him a lot.

And you better not offer him what I did...

File under WTF?

First thought upon waking this morning:

Why are people from Canada called Canadians? Why aren't they Canadans? Because if they're Canadians, why aren't people from the U.S. called Americians?

I have no idea why my brain went there...

Do not stand in the middle of Lowe's and tell me you've got good wood, because really, sometimes I'm like 12 years old, and I will snicker inappropriately...

For some reason, we thought it would be just a spiffy idea to hit the flea market--which is on acres of blacktop--in this:




For some reason, it was not entirely pleasant.
Go figure.

Experiencing blog block...major major blog block...

They've been married 62 years; he's almost 90 years old, and this was their impromptu piano recital in the atrium of the Mayo clinic:




How cool is that?

I've been going to Border's a lot lately; for one, I just can't find a comfortable place in this little to plop down with my laptop and write, and two...I just like Border's. The new group of people behind the counter know how I like my tea now, even to the point where one will call out to the assistant manager who is back there helping "fill the cup all the way with ice, she like LOTS of ice."

That is coolness.

But today. Oh man, today the place was packed. It was raining out, and people like to sit in the coffee shop on rainy days, where they can read books for free while they much on some pretty spiffy looking scones and muffins (I assume those are filled with Evilness, so I haven't tried anything other than beverages there...) I took one of two chairs available, feeling lucky that it was near an outlet where I could plug in.

And a few minutes later a woman sat next to me, cupping her coffee in her hands. She stared out into the crowd, eyes glazed over, the look of someone who just wants to sit and be alone, yet not too alone.

This is fine; I'm not there to make friends. I'm there to make stuff up.

But this Woman...before she got there someone anointed her Queen of Flatulence, and she embraced her royal duties with gusto.

I tried to keep writing in spite of it, but between my fingers gliding over the keyboard and her dedicated attention to her Regalness, it sounded pretty much like tap tap tap =squeeeeeee= tap tap tap -phffffffft- tap tap tap... you get the picture.

I couldn't take much of it, and wound up leaving before I coughed out 3 pages and before my usual tea refill.

I have high hopes for tomorrow, because I'm pretty sure that if she's still there, she's got to have deflated by now.

OMG it's the swine flu

EVERYBODY PANIC!!!

Or not.

Remember the 70's folks.

It was OHMYGOD back then, but only ONE person (in the U.S.) died from the swine flu strain...and the vaccination killed a whole lot more.

Most people who got it were barely sick. I suspect we're all gonna be fine.

In happier thoughts, today is the Spouse Thingy's birthday! He's 48! And still older than I! Yay!

:)

Today's suckitude...Bea Arthur died. I always liked her in stuff.

Or she's going to die tomorrow. The article is dated April 26, 2009. I'm not sure I would want the advanced notice, personally.

But dang...she was funny.

Wonder what the tux kitty did that made him stay there and take it...?

Crazy Talking Cats



(found on one of the kitty blogs. It made me laugh...I don't know why..)

Quite possibly both the weirdest and funniest thing to ever happen to me...

I made a mental note of the rather large 15+ passenger van in the Wendy's parking lot, but the only thing I really thought about it was that the gas mileage on that thing had to suck. I was more focused on getting my blindingly bright jacket off and stowed under the seat of my scooter, and getting inside where there was, hopefully, air conditioning.

Already waiting in line were several people, most of whom were developmentally delayed or disabled; there was a heated discussion going on about how badly a few of them NEEDED a Frosty. I was tempted to interject that it was hot enough outside that a Frosty surely was a need and not just a want, but then one of the women--I'm guessing about 25 and with Down's Syndrome--turned and looked at me; she squealed and bolted right at me, grabbing my right arm and hugging it tight...

...whereupon she planted a big kiss right on Thumper's face.

This Thumper, BTW.

The rest of me didn't matter much at that point.

Her caregiver was mortified, and pulled her away apologetically, but it was all right. I didn't even mind the ensuing squeals and her friends pointing and practically chanting Thumper Thumper Thumper.

I admit, I ate quickly to get out of there and away from the pointing and whispers of "It's Thumper!" but it was funny.

It sure beats the rude stares and off handed "God, that's tacky" comments I sometimes hear.

Fair warning, though, if you spot me and run up and kiss my tattoo, I'll probably lay you out flat.

Thanks to the Spouse Thingy's attempt at becoming One with the back yard, he was off today, and today was the start of the Medieval & Fantasy Festival in downtown Vacaville. We had a good time at it last year and figured why not? It's not like he was on sick leave and was supposed to stay home all weekend; he's Out With Owies, and wandering around in a wheelchair is not unreasonable.

I think it was a little better last year; either there were simply not as many street performers this year, or we were there at a bad time, but we went through the whole thing in less than an hour. It was still fun, jst not quite the kicky thrill it was last year.

On the plus side, last year there was a guy who makes really nice (and high quality) Celtic jewelry, and I bought a sterling silver ring from him. I had really wanted it in gold, but couldn't justify the expense. I reasoned a ring is a ring is a ring, and went cheap.

The problem is that my body doesn't like silver. It didn't turn my finger green; instead, I often turned the ring black. Not all that attractive.

Well, this year he was there and had the ring in gold, and since it subs as my wedding ring, I justified the expense.

And this is what the Spouse Thingy gets for falling off a ladder. He gets to spend money on jewelry.

Tomorrow, I drag him to the mall.

Pray for him.

:)