We only had one night on the Orient Express. You could go longer. You could start in Rome and have two nights on the train (and if I could do this again, and had much more money, this would be it.) Read more
Mom just brought me a chewable calcium supplement. Two, actually. “One for later,” she said, because Jason told her that Dr. Oz said somewhere that we can only absorb so much calcium at one time, so we need to take it in two doses. I am terrible at remembering to take vitamins, but I’m even more terrible at them ever since Jason began a sentence (with only the best of intentions) with, “You know, in terms of calcium, once a woman reaches thirty-five…” I hit mute, rewind, delete, deny.
I kind of walk around all day right now with this low-level, stomach-knot anxiety. Part of it must come from me being unable to do anything that feels like actual exercise. I can’t skate, I can’t go for a run, I can’t even go for a twenty-minute walk without regretting it later. So I sit. I sit and wait. I wait for word on the upfronts. Any minute now we find out the fate of Romantically Challenged. I’m under contract there, which means I can only do so much alternate planning in case the show goes from hiatus to cancelled. With the publication of Going in Circles I am finished with my contract, and I’m now writing chapters that will end up in a book proposal. I’ve also written up a pitch for an hour-long tv show based on a novel I love, love, love, but I’m waiting on notes from my agent… who is busy with upfronts. I meet tomorrow with the studio I’m creating a half-hour pitch with this development season, which means I’m waiting to find out what project I’ll ultimately be pitching with them. I’m waiting on responses for a few other possibles here and there. All good things, if only a “YES” would come back. I’m waiting. I’m writing. I’m waiting. And I’m closely monitoring my dwindling savings account. Read more
Amazon has added a brand new evil feature.
Now you can find out how many letters, words and characters are in the pages of Why Girls Are Weird. You can find out how many “complex words” I used (6%). You can find out what grade education is needed to understand the book (4.8). Sorry, third graders! Read more
In the corner of this condo, by the couches, we have found wireless.
I do not recommend trying to carry a stack of wood and two bags of groceries five blocks, in the snow, in the dark, by yourself. What seemed like a good idea last night became one of the dumbest things I’ve ever attempted. It took twice as long to walk home, as I kept having to stop, put everything down, gain my breath again, and then try to carry all of those things — in gloves — while walking on an icy street. I am dumb. I’ve also never really experienced life with snow. Read more
Taylor is a weird cat. Always has been. He’s strangely anti-social, but then will hang out in a room and stare at everyone. He likes to eat carpeting, wool, and thick blanketing. He doesn’t like to eat food if someone’s watching him. He waits until everyone goes to bed before settling into his bowl. I’m used to all of this as part of Taylor’s weird way of life.
I burned my arm making dinner last night. Just a small burn, one I’ll be able to cover up with makeup, but I knew it was going to happen. I’ve smacked my hands into just about everything over the past couple of days, and now two of my knuckles are skinned, including my left ringfinger. Yay, pictures.
I’m making the table cards while stee is creating a wedding rehearsal worksheet on what appears to be Photoshop. My mom is currently sitting in a car downtown in the rain, waiting for AAA to come fix the flat tire on her rental, wondering if she actually has to pay the parking ticket she just received. Read more
I don’t imagine I’ll have that much time to update here over the next week. People start arriving as early as tonight. So if I don’t check in again, here’s my year-end wrap-up:
pamie.com is thrilled to be a part of Virtual Book Tour once again. This time it’s Jennifer Traig’s hilarious Devil in the Details : Scenes From an Obsessive Girlhood. She promises me that the copy of the book I received had a binding issue, and wasn’t intentionally off-center by one centimeter. The three borderline obsessive-compulsives who tried to fix the book before a recent Writers Guild screening of Closer do not believe her. In fact, our discussion of how her publishing company was genius to make a book about obsessive-compulsive disorder have a small, irritating, disorderly flaw garnered the attention of more than one audience member sitting near us. In fact-in fact, the book held the attention of more than one Guild member much longer than Julia Roberts could. Apparently writers like things to be orderly, and Jennifer’s book was calling to us, asking to be fixed, begging to be righted, to be held and taken care of. Read more
You don’t have to check the time of this post. I’ll tell you. It’s four in the morning.
I’ve learned an important lesson. When you decide to drink more Diet Coke than you have in about a year, it’s best not to do it at eleven at night. I’ve been trying to fall asleep for over four hours. Read more
I’m trying to work on a novella to meet my deadline (More info when available, but the anthology should be hitting bookshelves this June!) and decided listening to the new Bjork album for the first time would get me in the right mood to type up edits and rework certain paragraphs.
Track Three has me terrified that someone is sneaking up behind me with a knife. Read more