Put on a Poncho, Play for Mosquitoes

I'm thinking in lists today.

1. This draft of major rewrites is finished and only one day behind schedule. The sex scene remains unwritten and I'll let beta readers tell me if it's necessary of it's better to let the reader fill in the hot blanks. #amwriting

2. I lied. The draft isn't finished. I must adjust the dates in the chapter headers. Dates are critical to the story. Once I've dropped in those dates, I'll email those of you who have volunteered to beta read. I've added a Work in Progress page (see tab above) with the opening of the novel so you can see if the style and genre are something you might want to beta read. I hate to give this very mainstream writing to those who expect something literary because I promise you, you'll be disappointed. The novel has maybe one or two metaphors in the entire 73k words. So if you've volunteered to beta, but find that this won't be your cup of vodka, that's cool. #amediting

3. Scott Farkus and Grover Dill remain sequestered in the garage. This causes some difficulties because the refrigerator in the kitchen isn't working properly so we've moved all the fridge stuff to the freezer side and all the freezer stuff is in the fridge in the garage. Before you go wondering how broke-ass people like us can afford two refrigerators, take note: the one in the garage belongs to our landlord.

Anyway.

Every time I have to fetch something from the freezer or the overstock in the garage fridge, Scott and Grover rush the door and suddenly it's Kitty Rodeo! Bets on how long it takes me to give up and just introduce those boys to the rest of the band?

Also, this nonsense makes it even harder to sneak the ice cream I have hidden in the back of the freezer.

Also, too, thank you, Randal, for reminding me that Toady's real name is Grover Dill. #yeehaw

4. I did not watch the Republican debate last night on Fox News, but I can tell you this: I hope to hell that Tim Pawlenty's political career is over soon. I don't know if I've ever shared this, but certain words trigger food cravings for me. I know. Weird, but there it is. So whenever Pawlenty's name is mentioned, I'm all Homer Simpson "mmmmm polenta.....aaaaaahhhh." It's kind of disturbing. I don't need this shit. Polenta is high in calories and tricked out with crazy genetic shit thanks to Monsanto's messing with corn seed.

At least if Mitt Romney wins the nomination, I won't get fatter. I'll just have to listen to MathMan call him Mitten for the next year and half. Gain more weight or be jailed because of a domestic dispute turned violent? It's a clear choice to me.

And if Michele Bachmann wins? Let's just say it will be a veritable smorgasbord of tasteless jokes chez nous. Followed by a lot of Bless her hearts because we don't want to be totally cruel. That sets a terrible example for the children. #areyoufuckingkiddingme

5. Speaking of MathMan, I can't convince him to keep a respectful distance when we're in bed, so I'm insisting that he study this. #middleagedsexcapades



6. Now I'm craving some John Stamos with a side of Bob Saget. Fucking inconvenient since the closest I'll ever get to them is watching Full House reruns as I serve Sophie her breakfast. #guiltypleasures

7. My blog stats continue to be enhanced by people doing research on Nancy Pelosi's breasts. I wish some foundation would form to help those people get to the bottom of whatever important social concern they're trying to solve. Maybe that foundation would hire me to be its CEO. #stillneedajob

8. The new Indigo Girls song Making Promises has a Monkees vibe to it. Now I'm craving Pop Tarts and Peter Tork because that's what I remember eating when I watched Monkees reruns as a child. Pop Tarts, I mean. #foodandtv

9. Someone needs to vacuum this house. Know what that leaves me craving? A maid. #suckthis

10. Your comment goes here. The best comment wins two cats (fill in with a lot of legal jargon and disclaimers.)


With all good wishes,

Lisa