36 Years of Wisdom...Sorta

Tomorrow I turn thirty-six years old. Wow. I could be termed in my 'late thirties' although I'll hang out in the mid-thirties for another couple of years.  I think I've stated before that I don't mind aging. I mean, I don't like to LOOK old, but I'm happy with how I look so that isn't an issue and I still feel like I'm catching up with myself due to the fact that I have simply always felt old. The whole process is helped by the fact that there is no one time in my life I can look back on and say "Gosh, I wish I were able to do that again." Maybe a day here and there, but I can't think of a single block of time (meaning months) that I want to repeat. However, I'm a firm believer in age equating with wisdom and therefore I get smarter every year! And, seeing as how I am so very wise I am going to impart 36 of my best advice:

1--Do not leave laundry in the washer for a week.
2--Peanut Butter should have child proof lids.
3--I will always hate my hair no matter how good I think it looks that particular day.
4--You can learn from your mistakes or make them again--you choose.
5--Most talents are discovered after the age of 20.
6--Everyone has demons.
7--Some people's demons hate you.
8--People with demons who hate you are better avoided.
9--Prayer is your opportunity to try to help people with demons who hate you and are better avoided.
10--My demons hate some people and have caused them lots of pain.
11--Sometimes it feels impossible to make things better.
12--Prayer is good.
13--Cheesecake is also good.
14--Prayer and cheesecake together is practically celestial.
15--Philosophies are much easier to think about then to execute.
16--Most of my philosopies rise up to bite me in the butt.
17--Some people just are not happy for other people's success.
18--Kids really do come with their own personalities.
19--Sometimes complaining about something really does make you feel better.
20--There is no sin in leaving the kids home when you go on couple vacations.
21--The future is far more interesting than the past.
22--Family is awesome, but just because they are family doesn't mean that their demons don't hate you.
23--It is possible to love someone and yet want nothing to do with them. Healthy sometimes even.
24--Time really does move faster as you get older.
25--Metabolisms really do slow down as you get older.
26--Typically it's easier to remember the stupid things you do than the cool stuff.
27--Didactic ponification is of the gods.
28--For every person who's impressed when you use big words there's someone else rolling their eyes.
29--Forgiveness doesn't really make sense until someone forgives you when they didn't have to.
30--Looking for ways to deal with your own demons is a worthy pursuit that might take a lifetime.
31--Parenthood is a priceless look into the heart of God.
32--There will always be someone smarter, prettier, funnier, more talented, and more generous than you.
33--Just because someone else might be better, doesn't mean that YOU won't be a better self for working toward the same goal.
34--Nothing feels as good as being kind.
35--It's fun to be a girl.
36--Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people but good things also happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people and there really isn't anyone out to get us, just trying to teach us a thing or twelve.

Thanks for all the birthday wishes, it's been a long, somewhat dreadful, insecure, whirlwind, and yet essentially good year. :-)

Another Question: Why do I hate holidays? Alisha

Why is it that you are a scrooge about the holidays? (asked with a smile) I'm trying to remember a holiday that you didn't comment about looking forward to being over. :) 

 There is a short answer and a long answer to this question:

Short: I'm not a fun person.

Long:

Holidays, for the most part, are a bother for me. I like the family part, I like the days off part, and I like the opportunity to reflect on the focus of that holiday. All that's good and if that was all the holidays were, I would be as Bob Cratchit as the rest of all y'all. However, that seems to comprise about, oh, 5% of any given holiday. The rest of it is crap. 

Crap as in:

Decorations: Cost a lot of money, clutter up my house, take up space to store for the other 11 months of the year, break, don't match each other let alone my regular home decor, and are never quite right. They go out of style, they displace other things I would prefer to look at, and, let's face it, most of them are cheesy. I mean, really, how many black cat candle holders do you need? And would any of us CHOOSE to decorate our living room with fat men and snowflakes full time. No. If we WANTED to decorate our house that way, we would do it year round. So why bother with it for one month? And I don't even mind the basic decorating, like a christmas tree. Christmas trees are awesome. Unless they are real. They they are a nasty mess. But you can't JUST do a Christmas tree. You have to have stockings and froo-froo stuff all over the place. My living room ends up looking like a garage sale, and yet many of the things I put up have some sentimental meaning, so then I feel guilty for making squinty eyes at them all the time.

Money: Some of you don't believe me when I say this, but I am cheap. Yes, I will spend money on things, but I prefer to spend as little as possible on things that matter. Every time I go to pick out a gift for someone else I wonder if this will be important to them, or if it will end up at DI next summer. This holds for any holiday, not just Christmas. I work very hard to get the 'perfect' gift, but in all my years I think I've managed to do that, like, twice. So, I always feel like I'm wasting my money. And then, after the holiday passes, I'm certain that I should have gotten them THIS instead of THAT and if I were just a more in tune I'd have gotten it write the first time. There's also money on food, dishes, postage, all those things that add up quickly and manage to suck the fun out of most holidays for me. I have a budget, and it always gets blown when a holiday comes up, and I have to spend the next month recovering, which is why we have cheap dog food. Sorry Tex.

Pictures: I hate taking pictures. I really do. I love having them, but I hate taking them because in order to take the pictures, you have to step out of the moment. Rather than watch my child blow out candles, I'm taking shots, then going through them to delete the ones that don't work. If there are several people we want recorded, I will inevitably leave someone out. Then there's the added frustration of feeling like I'm making myself the center of attention. Everyone notices the person taking pictures, and either tries to look cute, or tries to avoid them. I would like to just enjoy the moment and not worry about preserving it, or worry about what my hair looks like, or how clean my kitchen is. Every holiday, however, it is requisite that the pictures get taken and since no one else thinks of doing it, I either step out of the moment and feel awkward and do it, or I don't do it and then regret having not captured the moment. It's yet one more source of stress.

Distraction: Probably the biggest reason I dislike all of the above entitles aspects of the holidays is that I do not have the attention span to give these things the time they need, and still get the 'point' of the holiday. Halloween should be a fun time with my kids where we read spooky stories, dress up and eat candy. Instead all the decorations, picture taking, and money take away from that for me to the point where I just want it over with. Same with Christmas, Easter, and the 4th of July. They are just too busy and after all the prep and planning are done, I'm burnt out. Again, I still enjoy the family time and I try to let myself remember the point of it all, but more often than not at the end of that day I'm so very glad it's over.

Perfectionism: I like things to be just right, and nothing ever is. For each holiday I tend to build up how I want things to be; the traditions I'd like to start, the closeness I'd like to have, the peace I'd like to feel. But the irony is I'm not very good at being in the moment, I'm usually thinking ahead (or taking pictures) and so I end up regretting how I spent my time, wishing I'd done better. I agree it's dumb and with this amazing insight I have, I should fix it. But I don't know how to do that, so I just keep trying a little at a time.

All that said, I do enjoy the actual holiday itself. I like to give gifts (and getting gifts doesn't suck either), I love seeing the kids light up with all the fun holiday stuff, I like fireworks (kinda), and New Year's kisses. I love the food and playing games. Those things are awesome and I do realize that without all the other crap, I wouldn't get those moments. So, for that reason, I guess it's all worth it, but the annoyances are still there, taunting me every few months. 

Won't I be a fun Grandma?

My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. It's all about food and hanging out with friends and family. Not much wrangling and decoration expectations. I wish they were all like that.

And, to be just a little more obnoxious, one of my favoritest things about Christmas are the cards. Both giving and receiving them. It makes no sense since they are a lot of work and quite a fair amount of money, but I love em and Lee and I fight about how long I can keep them up on the wall. So far I've got him convinced that taking them down before Valentine's Day is a sin.

So, Alisha, aren't you glad you asked? I bet you can't wait to spend a holiday with me now, can you :-)

  

CUT!

I posted an update to my status on facebook that I'd managed to farm out three of my four children (and the one that stayed home is pretty danged independent) and so I had 3 days to write and clean. My super-cool facebook friends all told me forget the cleaning and go write!

But I didn't want to write, and you wanna know why?

Cause I just cut 12,349 words! That's why.

Seeing as how I'm an accountant these days I thought I'd run the numbers--35.4% of what I had written to date is now in my cuts folder. That leaves me with 22, 543 which is only 25% of my goal of 90,000 words.

See, the heartache comes from the fact that I knew what I'd written wasn't really working, which is one reason why I'd been avoiding the writing. But when I'm down 3 kids and a husband, and before the husband leaves I ask that husband for a blessing so I can use my time well; I have to write. And unfortunately for me, HAVING to write, means I HAD to cut. And it hurts, damnit.

I was supposed to have this book done by August 1st. It's very hard to adjust that deadline in my mind without feeling as though I'm failing my publisher and my readers and myself. But it was my own deadline and, ironically, I know that not cutting it means I can't move forward, because I try too hard to make what doesn't work, work and that is almost equally discouraging. Ya know?

Kinda like yesturday. The kids are gone, and I know it's the Sabbath and all, but I started to clean my daughter's room. I really only wanted to confirmation that yes, the closet was still there. Within 2 hours I had 2 full size garbage sacks (full of polly pocket clothes and barbie shoes I feel no guilt over discarding) in my garbage can, a bag of clothes for her cousin and 2 boxes and 2 bags of stuff for DI. She has a month to remember specific items in the DI stuff that I will then return to her, but after a month, if she can't remember it, it's gone. It was extreme, yes, and I should have waited until today, but it was also impossible for me to clean without CUTTING. Otherwise the room would never have been clean--there was too much stuff.

And cutting the 12,349 had to be done as well. I know it did, but it's still hard to see my page count dwindle.

I'm getting my hair cut on Thursday. It's time. I love it long, but then there are times I just don't. My ends are thin, it sticks to me when I'm working outside and I just need a little style--so I'm going under the knife. It won't be fun, and I might just cry, and yet I know it's a good thing and feel a glimmer of excitement at the idea of change!

I need to feel that same glimmer of excitement about cutting my story--because I cut it, that means I can have a healthier head of words, right? And it means that I won't have junk spilling through the doorway, right? And this sick feeling in my stomach will go away, right?

Oh, I really, really hope so.

Yes, We're Related, Why do You Ask?

Jeanie (age 14+)

"Hey Mom, you know that song that goes Every Rose Has it's Thorn, what's it called?"


Lou-Lou (age 13)

"It's a fact, Little Man, kinda like how it's a fact you've got twenty fingers, ya know? Wait . . ."


Little Man (age 10)

"Claudia (the piano teacher) said I did so good on my songs you should buy me a treat."

"I did buy you a treat," I say.

"You did! What is it?"

"Cough syrup."

"That's aweso---hey, wait a minute!"

KB (age 7)

*We were playing a game where you draw a card that gives you a category and you try to come up with things that fit that category. Since she's only 7, she just helps me. The category was "Words you use in place of swear words."

"Oh, I get it," KB says. "Like . . ." She whispers the word in my ear.

"Um, actually, that's a real swear word, sweetie."

It's just nice now and then to get the validation that, yep, their mine and we're all in good company.

Thanks everyone for sharing in my excitement of the DB list, it was so great to share it with friends and get such fabulous feedback. Also, a couple weeks ago I was interviewed by Wendy at Author Beginnings a fun new blog all about how writer's got started. If you want to know where my life as a writer began, click HERE to check it out.

My Issues

First--thank you to everyone that came out or offered 'wish I were there' vibes for the signing last night. I appreciate it. I loved visiting with everyone that came--it really is a fun moment to have your friends around you and saying how cute the cover is and how excited they are to read it. I have the best support!

Now, back to my issues.

Because so many of my books deal with contemporary issues, people sometimes think that I have dealt with some of those particular challenges in my own life. Thankfully, no. That's not to say that I don't love a couple addicts, that there isn't mental illness in my family tree, or that I'm always nice to my husband--but overall, no, I've never been sexually abused, addicted to pain pills, married for convenience, had my identity stolen or my daughter kidnapped. I've never been divorced, or held at gun point or so sick with my pregnancy that I might die. But that's not to say I don't have issues.

One of them has reared it's ugly head today and I am trying very hard to stay calm, filling myself with positive affirmations, and keeping things in perspective.

Alas, I might lose the battle.

So, here's the thing. A couple weeks ago, Northern Utah (where I live) got drenched with rain. We already had a bunch of snow on the ground and then it rained for almost 3 full days, turning us into a cold soggy mess. But, a mess that stayed outside so it was okay. A week later I went into our spare bedroom downstairs and found the carpet was wet. Apparently, the rain gutter had been draining into the window well of that room during all that rain, and the water had come through the window, drenching the floor. We called a disaster clean up place who sucked out the water, pulled back the carpet, and put blowers on it all to dry it out. That's all good--well, okay, it's not GOOD as in wonderful, but I can handle minor household disasters like that from time to time. It's good for my blood pressure to spike under the "This is so not fair!" dramas of such things. I can handle it and move on. The plan was to dry it all out, replace the sheet rock affected, and then re-stretch the carpet.

And then Lee says "Maybe we should just replace the carpet."
"In the whole basement?" I ask, wondering where he came up with five thousand dollars.
"No, just that room."
My mouth goes dry and I clench my teeth. "We can't do that," I say.
"Sure we can, that carpet is crap anyway."
"Yes, and if you put good carpet in one room, the rest of the basement will look even crappier."
"No, it won't."
"Yes, it will! You know how I feel about floor covering, Lee, don't push me."

See, I believe all floor coverings should be the same. Since carpet is impractical in kitchens and bathrooms, I've accepted that it's usually necessary to have two types of floor covering in a house--but they should all match and all the carpet should be the same and all the tile or linoleum or hard wood should be the same--and only one of those options! Yes, the basement carpet is really lousy--but it matches! It's hard enough for me to accept that upstairs and downstairs doesn't have the same carpet, that we have TWO types of tile, and that we, gulp, re-carpeted the living room a few years ago because off white right off the kitchen is just no good. Luckily, the new carpet only touches tile, but just because it's not as bad as it could be doesn't make it right!



Do you see it? Three types of floor covering in four square feet. I know, it's horrible, isn't it?




Here is the current carpet in the basement--it's a commercial grade, very tight Berber.



The seams are coming apart, there are a few spots that are totally unraveling but I prefer it to the nauseating aspect of carpet clash--you know, where two different types of carpet touch each other. Shudder. I just hate that. I mean, I really, really hate it.

And yet, I might not have any choice--Lee's afraid the carpet won't be salvageable after we finish the repairs. So I must pull on the fortitude inspired in me through my faithful ancestors, I must absorb into my soul that life will go on. I'm sure I'll grow from the suffering, but that doesn't mean I'll like it.

And so, you can see why, when it comes to fiction, I choose those things that are detached from my personal pain. Sadly, there are some things, such as carpet clashes, that I hit a little too close to home to write a story about. Every author has to draw the line somewhere.

Howling at the Moon

I love sleep--really, really love it. I need about 7 hours a night to function well and I reward myself with naps when I can--which isn't very often. Sunday afternoon is nap time and we are as religious about it as we are with going to church. There is no doubt that my best days follow a good night's sleep. It's important to me.

Well, I'm having a hard time sleeping this week. It's like I'm just not really sleeping--I'm in this hovery dream state where I'm annoyed with myself because I know I'm not getting rest, but I'm watching this weird thing play out. But it's been three or four nights and I'm tired dangit!

I think it might have something to do with the full moon--I noticed in November that I had a hard time sleeping during the full moon and now I'm having a hard time again which gives me permission to obsess. Stay with me here;

I worked as a night-shift CNA in high-school and through the old folks I took care of I learned a great respect for rhythm--rhythm of the daily routine, rhythm of the human body, and rhythms of the world at large. There was a disorder called Sundowners, where Granny and Gramps who were sweet and wonderful during the day, would literally go crazy when the sun went down. I didn't beleive it till I saw it--and holy schmokes was it scary. Not all old people were affected, but probably 30% of the people in my nursing home were thrown off by some version of Sundowners. Most just got confused, but there were a couple that became freaking ax murderers (especially the guy that really had been an ax murderer). On regular nights it was annoying, but during the full moon things were just bonkers. We CNAs would check the schedule at the first of the month to see who was scheduled to work the Alzhiemer's unit over the full moon--we deserved time and a half, but never got it. It would build in the days before the moon was full, then explode that night.

So, I'm thinking that might be what I have--except that would mean I should be sane come morning.

So maybe I'm watching too much TV--I really, really, really like TV and become really sucked in these last few weeks. I spent three days watching extreme wieght loss stories--fascinating. Today, I'm watching back to back Presley Biography's and all I gotta say is, what the *#$% were Priscilla's parent's thinking. They really thought their 17 year old daughter that had been in love with Elvis for three years stayed at the next door neighbor's house when she visted him in LA? Duh. Anyway, when I try to sleep all the stuff I've watched on TV is blurring toghther with holiday things that really happened. I don't like it. I'm tired and cranky. And lest you think my house is in shambles and my WIP is covered in cobwebs--I'm a master at using commercials to my advantage and I write while I watch TV. But it might not be healthy.

I can't take Nyquil. The last time I did, I was awake for the next 18 hours. I'm really funny with medications--they don't affect me the way the label says. Basically I stick to anything Tylenol, but I take half the dose. So Tylenol PM is a good thing, but I don't want to take that every night for the rest of my life.

So, people, help me out here. I wanna good night sleep tonight and I'm running out of ideas, but the moon is waning now (I think--it's hard to see with the clouds that keep snowing)

Let Me Define This For You . . .

So, a couple months ago I noticed a somewhat disturbing thing--the word verification when commenting on blogger-blogs were beginning to sound like real words! I know, weird huh?

I've been blogging for a few years now and I had grown accustomed to word verifications that weren't words at all--"words" like llprimee and rtrpphl. I must admit that I worry my ability to now decipher some of these words is sign of some kind of mental failing on my part--making sense of nonsensical things--but then I wonder if the opposite is true instead. PERHAPS this is a sign of increased brilliance on my part! If that's the case, then the rest of you need my help to decipher what these new words mean.

So, while in Las Vegas with my family (another post for another day) I wrote down the word verifications I had on several blogs I left comments for and I will not proceed to define these words for you.

Donity--Term used to describe the bathroom. (say the following with an English accent) "I'll have me another pint when I get back from the donity"

Abloatic--The feeling one feels on New Year's morning after spending six hours eating copulous amounts of junkfood rich in transfats. "Roll me out to the car, Ma, I'm too abloatic to walk there on my own today."

Frousi--A derogotory term used to refer to young Austrian women with questionable moral characters--combination of the words frauline and hussy. "Oh, that Marta is such a frousi."

Mendstom--Actual name of the boogie man, but not used very often due to the non-frightening nature of it. "

Comenti--Title given to blog commenters that never leave comments comprised of more than 3 words such as "Good one!" or "Ha, Ha" or "You go girl-fren."--"I guess I shouldn't feel so bad, every blog has a comenti or two."

Panslo--Code word used by mothers when they accidentally turn off the burner while cooking dinner--"Dinner will take a little longer, kids, the chicken was a little panslo."

Gurga--They kind of guy that likes to date a frousi. "Oh, looks like Marta found herself a Gurga."

Glycaliz--A condition often associated with to much blog reading. "Dad, mom's looking a little glycaliz--should we shut off the breaker again?"

So there you have it--now don't you feel smarter?

Wacky, Wild Seven Meme

I was tagged last week by Wendy at wendwords.blogspot.com and then by Stacy at stayinalivewithstacy.blogspot.com and so I figured I better answer. However, I would like to point out that if these 7 do not whet your appetite you can read up on my other tags here and here and here and here and here and here.

I'm not sure I have room for 7 more things about me, I'm not really all that interesting, but I will try and keep all y'all awake. I'm sure I've mentioned some of these before, so sorry, but like I said I'm not that interesting.

1) I gave birth to my 2nd child in the bathtub. Babies won't breath until their faces hit air, so the midwife held her under the water while my husband and mother ran around crazy for a towel and a suction thing. It was so weird to see this baby just looking up at me from the bottom of the tub. It was not supposed to happen this way, but it was AWESOME. I was up and ready to go home a few hours later, the baby was great, I was great and highly recommend it if you're state allows planned underwater births.

2) My husband a few years back was looking to shoot a commercial for his business and he interviewed a small film company. They agreed to work on it together and then the guy said he'd call my husband when he was ready to start--he had this independent film he was working on and taking to some film festival over the next couple months. We never heard from him again but saw his name in the credits for Napoleon Dynamite a year or so later.

3) After reading Earning Eternity, people have asked me if I've really been bungee jumping. Yes, in fact I have. It was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.

4) At the age of 18 I drove to Phoenix with a friend to go to a Bruce Springsteen concert. My friend left $160 under her pillow at the motel in Flagstaff and we didn't realize it until we got to Phoenix. We were both ready to throw up and called the motel in a panic. The housekeeper hadn't shown up that day so the owner had cleaned the rooms herself and found the money. We picked it up on our way back through. Neither of us had a credit card or checkbook, I'm not sure how we'd have made it home if she hadn't been such an honest person since our parents hadn't wanted us to go in the first place.

5) At that same hotel, the morning we had checked out, I reached into my bag to pull out an elastic for my hair. I was rolling the elastic in my fingers when I looked down and found I was holding the biggest wolf spider I've ever seen by the leg. Honestly, I think my heart stopped beating and I was so freaked out I couldn't even scream. I still get sick just thinking about it.

6) When I was 11 I had a blood disease called Immunethrombocytopeniapurpura, it's a shortage of platelets and I had to go on Prednisone (sp) which made me gain 40 pounds. I only weigh about 5 pounds more now than I did back then. I only wish I could lose weight that fast, I think I was back to 80 pounds in six weeks once I stopped the meds.

7) When I was five I learned that when I grew up and got married, my name would change. I was ecstatic since Josephine was the most horrible name in the whole world. I wanted to change my name to Penny and decided right then to get married as soon as I could. I was rather devastated when I realized it didn't quite work that way.

So, who to tag.....

Crystal (my sister in law)
Alisha (my good friend that I miss since she moved away from me)
Karlene (cause I like learning stuff about her)
Stephanie Humphries (cause I asked her some questions I want answered!)
Don (cause his life is intriguing to me)
Jenna (same reason as Don)
Marcia Mickelson (cause I've enjoyed getting to know her and would like some more)

Middle Name Meme

Annette tagged me for the middle name meme, so here we go. My middle name is Snow. Because most y’all are Mormons, you probably already assume it’s because I’m related to the famous Snows of Church History lore (Erastus Snow to be exact. His cousins, Lorenzo and Eliza are more commonly known). I once fantasized that my parents chose Snow because they were wigged out hippies determined to raise me with a love of all things free and natural. Not so. My mom was a Snow and all but 3 of my siblings have Snow as their middle name. No creativity at all.


S—It’s a really bad sign when the very first letter stumps me. Sweet (Julie, stop laughing!) Snotty (someone please start laughing?) Sarcastic—ah, that’s it. Sarcastic works.

N—Nerdy. But not in the cool “Let’s ask Josi, she’ll know” kind of way, more in the “Did you see what she was wearing?” kind of way. I’ve never been the cool kid, the one that got asked to the dance, or even the teacher every kid wanted to have in Sunday school. I tell jokes people don’t understand, say things I shouldn’t, laugh when its not funny, and get things stuck in my teeth. I think I’ve had less than 2 dozen days in my whole life where I felt like I was wearing the right thing. Oh well, me and the guy I’m sleeping with don’t mind too much and my kids don’t know the difference since I’m the only mother they’ve ever had. What do I care what other people think? If only I were nerdy enough that not caring was an option.

O—Overwhelmed. There is so much in life to do, to learn, to write, to read, to accomplish, to discover, to experience, and to watch. I have not yet learned to take things slow, do one thing at a time, and so I spend most of my life completely overwhelmed. I often tell my husband I’ve run out of room in my brain, I can’t hold anything else. And then I see a flier for Jazzercise and I’m juggling my calendar again.

W—W? What can I do that starts with W? Wonderful is out. So it Wholesome. Weird works, but honestly—have you met my friends? They have the corner market on Weird ☺. I’d like to use Wise, but I had a friend in high-school that was struck by lightening and he said it really hurt. Hmmmm. Whiney might be the best I can do. I love to whine, I’m actually trying to make it a nationally recognized sport. I’m going for the gold.

I’m tagging Ajoy (since she’s forgiven me for being negative toward her friend Stephanie Meyers) and Carole Thayne Warburton, my paradisiacaly glorious friend who has greatly blessed my life.

Not everyone loves Harry Potter

A couple weeks ago my husband and I found ourselves with only one child at home. The oldest was at girl's camp, #2 and #4 were farmed out to some cousins. I thought it would be great to have an evening with just #3, and since I'd been dying to see HP5 for a second time, and #3 was dying to see if for the first time, it was a no brainer. We went to dinner first, then went to the movie. About half way through the movie--when I was enraptured--my husband leaned over to me and said "I'd rather be in a two and half hour sacrament meeting than here"

Then the other night we were watching TV and Larry King was interviewing one of the Spice Girls who just had Eddie Murphy's baby, before marrying someone else, oh and Eddie's married too I guess. Anyway, I commented how there had been a lot about the Spice Girls lately, specifically how Posh Spice was making the news as some soccer guy's wife.

"Some Soccer guy?" my husband said in abject disappointment. "Some Soccer guy? You mean Beckham, who is probably the most famous athlete in the entire world?"

"Hey, " I said in defense. "I don't follow soccer any more than you follow books. You probably don't even know who JK Rowling is."

"Sure I do, she's the lady that wrote about that stupid magic kid with the lame glasses."

I don't know how it happened, really. How is it that I've neglected his cognitive development to the point that he can call Harry Potter the stupid magic kid with the lame glasses. Somewhere along the way, despite my great love for this man, I have failed him. Woe is me.

Quirky, Quirk, Quirk

Everyone talks about writers being eccentric and quirky, right? Well, I'm a writer and I'm not quirky. I'm a very very very very very very very normal individual.

So, knowing how normal I am, I don't know where those funky writers-are-weird rumors come from, hence I've developed the theory that it's just what un-creative people say. Kind of like those girls in high-school mom said only talked badly about people to make themselves feel better. However, I have to admit that I do know of some writers that are down right weird, but in the spirit of 'saying something nice' we'll use the word quirky. For example:

Julie Wright checks her word count every few paragraphs and hits save after EVERY sentence. She says she's a paranoid obsessive compulsive--do we want to raise an argument to that? She's also worn only one color of lipstick for the last ten years. AND, she's blown up a computer. She has a weird electrical thing going on and has a bit of a current running through her. She's always shocking people--not by what she says, but the shock you used to give when you'd shuffled your feed on the carpet. If she wears her hair down, it starts floating like when you put your hand on that electro-ball thing in science class. I kid you not.

Steven King "I have a glass of water or I have a cup of tea. I have my vitamin pill, I have my music; I have my same seat; and the papers are all arranged in the same places." And yes, he's the guy that wrote The Shining. "All work and no play makes Jack (ur, Steven) a dull boy."

Heather Moore (H.B. Moore from my pen name blog) will turn off the lights if she has a chunk of time to write, she's also been known to close her eyes and type. She didn't give me a reason for this but I wonder if it's like those times as a child when you would cover your eyes and think no one could see you. If only it were that easy...

Hans Christian Andersen put a sign next to his bed that read “I am not really dead.” And I have to wonder, was it the ugly duckling or Little Mermaid that knocked his rocker over?

Jeff Savage...oh where to start. For firsts, he LIKES Disneyland, secondly, he met his wife with a bag over his head. That explains a lot. And he didn't get back to me with his quirks so I think whatever his quirks are have to do with tomato soup and Peter, Paul, and Mary. He's welcome to correct me in the comments trail.

Annette Lyon, who has all kinds of education and credentials freezes when someone is looking over her shoulder. Doesn't matter who, she can't physically write if someone is reading as she goes. She also names rocks.

Charles Dickens walked twenty to thirty miles a day. He also placed objects on his desk in exactly the same position, always set his bed in north/south directions, and touched certain objects three times for luck--quite frankly, having read a little Dickens, this does not surprise me.

Rachel Nunes Always signs books in black or gold ink, never never never blue because she doesn't like the way it looks in books. She also has a nervous reaction to people that misuse lay/lie and she will correct you (I know this because I don't know the difference between lying on a test and laying under a bus:-) And whenver she's on TV, she wears red.

Stephanie Black is also a closet book whisperer. She whispers while she writes and her face begins to contort into her 'writer's face'. I wonder if this is like when the dog bares his teeth in order to get you to BACK OFF. I might need to look into this one.

Carole Thayne always wears socks when she writes. Warm feet, warm fingers perhaps.

And me? I told you, I don't have any. I'm a very very very very very very very normal person. Good thing too, someone's got to throw off the curve.

Are you a quirker? Or is it time to make good on the blackmail material you have on someone else? I'm all ears (or eyes since it's a blog and all)

(Portions of this blog gleaned from Judy Reeves)