Sunday, November 30, 2014

All Things TURKEY!

This Thanksgiving, as I looked around my nice warm house with the books and the coffee and the (at the moment) well behaved children, I realized something was missing. Something important. Something amazing. Something with feathers and a bright red wattle. That's right. My TURKEY! poster. It had become a sad, sad casualty of the moving process that we suffered through over a year ago. (WE suffered!?! What about the TURKEY! poster? WON'T SOMEONE THINK OF THE TURKEY! POSTERS?) And, truthfully, dudes, this amount of awesome shouldn't be kept, rolled and stored away in a dark, cold and lonely poster tube.
"Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
So, in honor of all the Thanksgiving celebrations that happened this week, including an extra 3 days off of school (Yes, over and above the traditional four day weekend the Pilgrims gave their school age children.) I finally hung the most awesome poster ever printed! In my office! Which is really just the far end of the dining room table. It adds that touch of class that'd been missing from all those formal meals we host, you know?

Now, on cold nights, cuddled up next to the fire, I like to think Benjamin Franklin is smiling down from heaven in all his turkey approval. (What-e-ver, Smithsonian. I wasn't even talking to you.)

So, this Thanksgiving? What am I thankful for?

An awesome TURKEY! poster finally displayed in all it's well earned glory.

And pie.

With ice cream on top.

And my family.

But not in that order.


Let's be honest. It all depends on how hungry I am.

But how about Jon? What's he thankful for, you ask?



Because otherwise my, one, elegant, understated, Audrey Hepburn-isc TURKEY! poster would be flanked by


like these...

that are...


Duuuude. Never mind! Audrey Hepburn was completely overrated.

I'm gonna need a bigger wall.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

All You NaNoWamO* People Are Crazy! How Do You Find The Time?

Ever wonder, just what the creative writing process looks like in the real world?

You know, by a person who actually writes.

Me too.

I mean, dude!, do they have some sort of secret system that enables them to churn out thousands of words per hour? Do they cheat and use some sort of computer program that does all the writing for them? (Yeah. You saw me. I'm totally looking at you, Daisy Meadows.) Or. You knoooow what? Maybe, it's drugs. Not like illegal drugs, people. More like those legal kind of drugs used by the government to lace all the food and coffee those Initiative army guys drank and stuff. *sniff*sniff*sip*sip* Huh. Pretty sure mine just tastes like caffeine.

(Side note: Joking about legal or illegal drugs is never funny. Because drugs are bad. Very bad. Which is why whenever I hand over my travel coffee mug for one of my kids to hold for a minute we have this conversation:
Me: (in my serious voice) Don't drop it. Don't drink it.
Them: (eye roll) I'm not going to drink it, Mommy.
Me: (eyebrow raised) Reeeally? (pause) Why not?
Which, in hindsight, is probably less a "This is your brain on drugs" talk and more of a way to make sure that with the dwindling coffee supplies in the world I'm still going to get my share. And Katie's. And Ellie's. Because good parents plan for the future.)

But now? The coffee is all gone and I'm still sitting here, looking into my computer screen, wondering, where exactly my writing process went wrong today:

Pour a cup of coffee. Open computer. Move a hairbrush, bottle of glue, six books, eight shiny rocks and one almost excavated dinosaur skeleton out of my work space on the dining room table.

Check email and various blogs. Don't reply to anything, because, you have stuff to get done!

See? Look at how much time I saved by putting all those emails off! I'm flying!

Write two sentences. Think. Realize my coffee cup is empty.

Fill coffee cup.
Note: Time includes reheating in microwave, because SOMEONE turned off the coffee pot when we all left the house for school drop off this morning. Again. Gosh. It's not like houses actually burn down from these types of appliances.

Check time. Shoot! Only, like, 35 minutes until preschool pickup! Yell, "WRITE SOMETHING!" Out loud. Because it's more motivating that way.

Writing. Realize I'm "this close" to finishing a WHOLE PARAGRAPH! Do the "I've Written A Whole Paragraph Dance". Include the jazz hands.

The call comes. I answer, because my rear doesn't fit on the tiny toilets they have at Ellie's school.

Edit half finished paragraph. Stare out window. Fall leaves are pretty....

Snap out of fall colors meditation. Realize I have less than five minutes until I have to leave and haven't eaten lunch. Run to kitchen, scoop up last week's pasta sauce with the expired corn tortillas people refuse to eat. (Even if I offer to spread Nutella on them.) Wash "lunch" down with the last of the coffee. Race out of the house.

Write the most amazing witty things! In my head. While driving. And fighting with Siri. Because she's deliberately misunderstanding me. Again. (What the heck does "NASCAR ice skates pretty messes circles around crackers hinge" mean anyway, Siri!?! Wait. No....I remember this one now. Never mind, Siri. My bad.)

Write this post. While Ellie is taking her "night night nap". (Spoiler Alert: She's really playing dress up. Upstairs. By herself. There's a skeleton involved. Because she likes skeletons. And tutus.)


Creativity. It's a hard knock life.

Personal and Private Note To Daisy Meadows: Um, Hi. Daisy Meadows? I'm sorry about that kinda whole you're not a real writer insult-ish kinda thing I kinda wrote, up there, at the top of the post. That wasn't cool. So, um, now that we're good, and, new found besties and all, do you think I could, kinda, stalk you for a bit? Just until I pick up some tips on your awesomely prolific creative process. Wait, uh, did I say stalk? No, there's a better word for that. A legal word. What is it...OH! Intern! That's right! (Mental note: interns are the legal stalkers.) Anyway, I could totally be your intern! Between the hours of 10 and noon. On Tuesday and Friday. Just, you know, think about it. Whatever you decide will be totally fine. Really. PS Your hair is pretty.

*NaNoWamO: (My) Abbreviation for National Novel Writing Month, which is in the month of November when everyone is supposed to write a 50,000 word novel. For realsie. Which is crazy, because by my math, that's like over 1,000 words a day. Do you KNOW how long it takes to count 1,000 words?

7 minutes 52 seconds.

I timed it.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Is There A Statistical Difference Between Having A +3 Alertness With A +2 Spirit Score Over A +2 Feint With Only A +3 Intelligence In Your Warrior Cat?

So. How many of you out there have kids reading this series?

Come on. Come on. Show your hands. This is the Internet, so it's not like I can actually call on you and then make you turn to your neighbor and tell them which clan: Thunder, River, Wind or Shadow, you'd be a part of if you were a character in Warriors.

Well, that I think about it, with the advancement of technology and the fact that webcams come stock with all computers nowadays, I probably can! (Quit shaking your head, Jon. They totally work like that! I. Know. I saw it on the Jetson's. So it's for realsie.)

Tell ya' what, I'll start!

If I were a character in Warriors I'd be Wind Clan! Because of their awesome windednessability*. And, obviously, the extra turbo boosts we get whenever we, um, wind...

And you guys?





OK, fine, people.

Be like that.

Don't tell me.

Also? The fact that no one engaged in conversation with me while I was talking directly into my computer does not negate my webcam/video phone theory. Jon. I'm still right. It just takes a little time to break down that third wall....

Anyway, Katie has been reading these books for a bit now, which I thought was great! I've been checking them out from the library for her, carting them around in my purse when we're out and about, and when she forgot to take one of the books up with her to bed running them upstairs for her at night. Obviously, I've been highly supportive. A wonderful mother, some might say. The height, the absolute pinnacle of awesomeness and perfection!

Well, some would say that.

Obviously, not everyone, but....

OK, maybe just me. Whatevs.

But, then, last weekend, as the wind blew the trees around and the rain lashed the windows, we all cuddled up by the fire, a huge bowl of popcorn between the four of us and Katie told us about how, at the back of her Warriors books there's this "really fun looking game!" And, before I could say "I have laundry to do" there we were, all of us playing Warriors: Adventure Game!

Because you can't say no to this face:

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE games. I mean, I've spent years hammering out a sure fire winning strategy for Go Fish! (No. I won't tell you.) I love to move pieces shaped like shoes or elephants around game boards. Spin the spinner? Heck! I'm in! But, a role-playing game? That's a complete cat of a different color.

Specifically, green and yellow.

And named Pickles Stilmeister.

But you know? Once I got over the fact that there's like, 2 billion pages of rules to be printed off the Internet in order to actually play the game at the back of Katie's book, it was pretty fun! Especially, once I realized that if I just spent a few Intelligence points during the game it was totally proper to yell out "I have 3 Smells!" any time I wanted.

As long as I politely excused myself afterwards, of course.

Wind Clan. We got skillz.

*I haven't actually read any of the books. I may not have needed to tell you that.