"The only way to become a writer is to write. Don't talk about it; glue your behind to the chair and write, at least four pages every day, even if you end up throwing them out. If you can't make the time, you aren't a writer. You have to motivate yourself; no one else can do that for you. If you can't do that, you are never going to be a writer. Write until you've finished a book, then send it out and write another one. And keep doing it until someone buys one. It's just that simple."
- Mercedes Lackey
Author of the Heralds of Valdemar books (plus many terrific others)
The Valdemar Companion: An Interview with Mercedes Lackey (p. 70)
*Bonus* On solving previously unforseen challenges: "Problems generally create books as long as you set your mind to asking questions instead of seeing blockages in the road." (p. 80)
Hi. It's been, like, three weeks since I blogged. Sorry. I could blame the bronchitis, Christmas, excessive movie watching, changeover, drugs (prescription), Christmas gift panic, RS lesson, freaky weather, New Year's, and whatever I've got that's been beating me around the ears for the last few days for the lag, but I won't. It's probably just pure laziness.
* I will be posting a Major Movie (Post-)Holiday Review blog soon.
* It's my birthday for another 65 minutes. Then can we not talk about it for at least a year? Thanks. (This will be deferred for those of you who are buying me meals in the next few days. Love ya.)
* I have decided that from now on holidays will belong to friends and family, and my birthday will belong to someplace warm. Preferably tropical, but otherwise exotic/scenic will do.
* My friends are very cool people.
* Angel Food Cake is what you get when you pour happiness in a pan and bake it.
* You'd think my family members could sing better than they can. It's OK, it was totally adorable anyway.
* I have at least one more update for my "100 Goals" list on its way.
* I have finally decided that there will be no more blind dates. I'm not at all opposed to meeting new guys, but I'm not going to expect them to pay for anything when they don't know what I do or my stance on generic ice cream.
* I'll be starting a new blog shortly: This is my year for non-fiction (rules to follow) and I'm going to document the experience separately.
*Birthday headaches suck. Birthday balloons, cakes, cards, Facebook greetings, texts, voicemails, and presents (cash and/or gift cards) do not. At all.
CLASSIC. The drama, the soapiness, the amazingly terrible hair and clothes... hello, '80's, what were we thinking?!? Can't get past the complete catchiness of the song, though - I'll always look back fondly on the summer that this song was our (unofficial) theme for Girls' Camp. True story.
Enjoy! (Oh, and I didn't realize this until the second - or third - time I watched it, but the GUY is the one wearing the brooch.)
(ETA: Go you YouTube and check out "Last Christmas" ORIGINAL or WHAM or GEORGE MICHAEL. Good times.)
And, FYI, if you've got some time to kill you can go browse around for covers of this tune - some of the videos are bizarre! And hilarious! And in some ways, even more '80's-tastic! (I KNOW - who would have thought that could even be POSSIBLE?)
Don't you just want to go put on leggings and feather your hair? I know I do. Merry Christmas!
... to blog about my first and only experience buying cigarettes. (Monday.) CREEPY. I was going to also include the story of my first and only experience buying beer.
Remind me to get on that, OK? I've got to go finish judging entries for the elementary school Reflections contest now.
In which we shall see: Absolutely no blood. Just kazoos and *drool*.
* * * * * * * * *
So, last weekend I had this blind date. The cold sore dropped far enough that my eye was no longer bloodshot and swollen shut, and careful makeup pretty much hid the rest. Already, my night was in the black. In reality, this "date" was actually an opportunity to get two of my friends to meet, but when I got tagged as a third wheel I insisted on even numbers just so I wouldn't feel so... odd. (Sorry.) I figured it would be a chance for me to practice, you know, talking to a boy, and that we'd probably spend most of the time gabbing as a group anyway. Not so much...
Gotta say, my non-date date was an AWESOME date. My two newly-met friends started talking, and MNDD immediately engaged me in conversation, neatly pairing everybody off. He was so easy to talk to, and interested and attentive, and I didn't feel anywhere near as stupid as I usually do trying to have a conversation with a guy. He's way too young for me, of course, but he was cheerful and funny and gentlemanly and cute and his story about getting arrested in Chicago and spending the night in jail is an absolute mind-blower! (So not kidding. It was AMAZING.) Later, one of my two friends told me she was sure we'd dated before, we looked so... cozy. That? Right there? Is a good date...
...in spite of Jason. Or, I suppose, Jason was the exception-spice that made the evening that much more tasty... (All right, ignore the metaphors. Go ahead.) We saw a play, then walked half a block to IHoP for hot chocolate. We were seated, asked for waters and hot chocolates, and before our server had left the table we found out his name was Jason, he'd just broken up with his fiancee, and he was willing to sing pretty much any Christmas carol we wanted - as long as it was sad and depressing. We got him started on "Blue Christmas" before he headed off to place our order, and we had our very own Elvis the rest of the evening. Nothing says "Happy Holidays" (or, "Your life isn't as bad as you think") like a depressed, bitter, singing pancake-house waiter! (How do we get that on a Christmas card?)
* * * * *
I'm still trying to find an MP3 or YouTube video to share, but in the meantime, listen for a version of "Mele Kalikimaka" with a female vocalist and a whole chorus of kazoos. It is EPIC. It's edging up my list of favorite Christmas songs, and may end somewhere next to this one:
* * * * *
Fellow Gleeks: Take a moment with me here to revisit one of the most beautiful things about a really great episode (today's) -
Have you ever seen anybody RUN like that before? *melts into a puddle of goo* Someday, I'll have a picture of that moment. And a YouTube clip to watch over and over. And computer wallpaper that plays those five seconds on a continuous loop. Merry Christmas, indeed.
(And until I get that picture/video clip/wallpaper, enjoy this placeholder from the pilot. Thank YOU, Matthew Morrison!)
Today, I woke up with my eye glued shut thanks to pus from a sty or pinkeye or something. I washed it out with the only eye drops in the house, which turned out to be allergy eye drops, and they dilated the one pupil until I could barely see.
Today, I came in to work wearing an eye patch.
Today, I nicked my wrist on a broken glass as I was unpacking a bin, and bled copiously all over the floor. Fortunately, I was wearing a sweatshirt and that soaked up a lot of the blood running down my arm. Also fortunately, I had a pile of dusty tissue paper handy (from the non-broken glasses) that I could use to try to staunch the flow (which was fortunately flowing strongly enough that I don't think I'll get an infection from the dust and dirt. Score!). Not so fortunately, I couldn't find anyone else in the building to help me. I wasn't dizzy or freaking out or anything - but when you're pressing a handful of old, blood-soaked tissue paper to a wound you can't actually see because it's on the other side of your arm and you just HOPE you're applying pressure to the right spot, you kind of want someone around for a little moral support, you know? The costume shop was completely empty, and everyone in the front office was on the phone and so couldn't come to my aid EVEN AS I WAS WAVING MY BLOODY ARM AROUND IN THE LOBBY. (That was descriptive, not British swearing.) Eventually, I got it all taken care of myself (although I had to go back to the - empty - costume shop for band-aids) and even got my sweatshirt into a load of laundry. (As soon as I started the machine, one of the costumers walked in. Oy.)
Today, I really needed cookies.
Today I burned myself with hot glue. I pulled the droplet off my hand, and it took the skin with it.
Today, I spent much of my time in the bathroom scraping mucus out of my eye and carefully dabbing Neosporin over the swelling (even though you should apparently NEVER use Neosporin that close to your eyes). Then I found out that there's a good chance the sty/pinkeye/whatever is actually a cold sore (ON MY EYE) and that thanks to the herpes virus I've had all my life, I will probably someday need cornea transplants if I don't get the shot that can (FINALLY) kill the virus. Also, Neosporin doesn't do squat for viruses. Also, if I ever need the cornea transplant I will have to pay for it myself because no insurance is going to cover it, seeing as I have had the herpes virus all my life. Plus I have a cold sore ON MY EYE and a blind date in two days. (Insert applicable joke here. Make sure it's bitter.)
Today I had leftover pasta from the Cheesecake Factory for lunch, and I did not get sick or food poisoning or anything. Who would have thought?
