my life in an update

Well, hello there November 30th. How you doin'?

Me? I'm doin' well. Thanks for asking.

Oh..... you weren't asking? All right then............

So I finished November's goal. A day early. And I'm pretty pumped about it. I did have a moment where I thought it wasn't going to get done. It was causing me some angst and I tend to retreat when I feel angst. I was ready to walk away, hang my head and admit defeat. But then yesterday came and my main character got all sassy and she found herself in big doodoo and her dad showed up and he was real angry-like and her mom and dad had another mongo doozy of a fight and mean words were said and she and her mom moved out and her dad started drinking himself to death and this was just one chapter.

Before I knew it I had written 5600 words and.......

voila!

Just like that I am a nanowrimo champion.



I should clarify something though. I did not write an entire novel in 30 days (well 29 but that's not the point). I wrote 50,000 words (well 50,118 but again, not the point) of a novel in that time. So, it's not done yet. It's almost done. I will finish it. I need to because the end isn't done and that's the part I wanted to write from the very beginning.

People die.....shhhhhhhh. It's a secret.

Anyway, today I have to get ready for the big Cub Christmas Craft. It's going to be .......... how do you say.......challenging?

I showed you what we were going to do but I needed to give it pizzazz. You know?

And by pizzazz I mean food.

So for family home evening Monday night we made some as a family. The prototype.

The chocolates were too heavy and pulled the centre paper all which way and back again. The clothespins were falling and pulling and it was a real pinterest nightmare. So we cut the centre out of cardboard, which fixed that wagon. But then the chocolates were falling off the clothespins because, again, they are too heavy and the two sided sticky things I had were from the dollar store because stuff is cheap at the dollar store and I have a meager budget. Like really skimpy. Anyway, they weren't sticky enough. Chocolates were falling all over the floor and I would yell things like "stop falling on the floor, I'm trying to write a book over here" and "I hate you stupid cheap dollar store two-sided sticky tabs!"

They weren't sticky enough. And it was irritating unto me. Shocker.

So the man suggested hot glue but my hot glue gun was malfunctioning. So the man went to the garage and got tools and I said a quick good bye to my already not working glue gun because we all know when the man shows up with tools a inanimate object funeral is imminent.

He took that $3 glue gun apart and made that sucker work. It's a good thing the man works pro bono because there was no way the time he spent fixing that piece of poop was worth it.

Anyway, we glued them and made them strong and then I cracked open a Diet Pepsi because it really had been quite the day.



And dinner was delicious too, I might add.

And then we watched Canada's Worst Driver. Do you watch that show? It really is something to behold.

Tomorrow I reveal December's goal. I'll give you two hints:

1. It will be lovely.

2. It involves this dude.....

a random assortment of me

It's Monday. Yesterday brought a crazy wind that gave me the shakes. Natural disasters might be my biggest fear. You can't win against the wind. Unless your superpower is fighting the wind. Which mine isn't. Mine involves fighting myself, which just so happens to be a full time job. I'm too busy to fight the wind.......

I heard crazy stories yesterday about the havoc the wind was wreaking. They even closed downtown. This tree is lying on the street by my house.



Crazy!

Speaking of downtown, I took three of the kids downtown to see a show on Saturday. The man suggested I take the c-train.

"The kids would love it," he said.

"You're right," I replied. "The kids would love it."

Huh? Hello, me. Have we met?

Two of them loved it but it's me who should have known better. What do I care if the kids are having fun? I sold my sanity for six dollars and twenty five cents.



Someone got a screaming deal. Let's just say construction in the downtown core made it so we had to get off the c-train and take a shuttle and walk to where we were going. It was fine though because the Calgary Tower is real tall-like and I could see it. The problem came when we got out of the show and I didn't know how to get back to wherever it was I needed to be. I am not public transit savvy. Nor do I ever care to be.

Jack said only podunk hobos take the c-train. I chastised him, explaining the concept of public transportation. I argued, endlessly, that he was wrong. And he is wrong but he's also right.

Purell, anyone?

I only had one plan. Take the train there and then take the train home again. I did not make room for concessions.

And to make matters worse, I wore really uncomfortable walking shoes.

Anyway, we worked it out. A one hour show took 4.5 hours to accomplish. No biggie.

"Lesson learned," says my aching feet.
****************

I'm under the gun people. I have 42,708 words written in my novel. I have only three days to finish. But...... I am also in charge of the Cub Christmas Craft on Wednesday night. There are 23 cubs and this is what we're doing.



We are also gluing Kisses to the back of every number otherwise they won't make it. There has to be incentive when you are a 10 year old boy. Food.

Thank-you Pinterest. I may have caught a glimpse of your value last week.

I have some punching out little white circles to do. Like 500-ish. And also.......some writing. Last week my book made me cry. Hard.

That's a good sign, right?

the plot: wreaking havoc

This post will be point form since I need to save my really good writing for my novel. Which is crap, by the way.

These are the things I know to be true in regards to writing a book, or the first 50,000 words of a book, in 30 days:

-my head hurts. A plethora of things are to blame. Chinook, endless reading and writing at the computer, kids who interrupt every 2 seconds, men who wake me up at 5:30 am with all their bed hogging and snuggling.

-men? I mean man. Just one man. The man. He is driving me bat crap crazy. I need my own bed.

-I am capable of procrastination in the most ingenious of forms. None of which include folding the laundry.



-the kids are digging through this daily and no one is complaining. So I'm going with it. It's all clean, what's there to whine about?

-I am 37,935 words into a book with a stellar beginning and a wicked ending and nothing in between. It literally is the book that went nowhere. Fast.

-actually, really slow. Painfully slow. I'm making it up as I go so it's a lot of blah blah blah blah............

-I should have taken typing 20 and 30 in high school. Yes, mother, you told me so.

-it's hard to know if what you are writing is any good when you are the one writing it. Youknowwhatimean? I see it like a movie in my head. It's as real as if I was there. But would you see it too if you were reading it? This must be what drives writers insane.

-I'm feeling a little insane.

-I have taken jammie day to a whole new level. And what is make-up? Someone remind me please.

-bra? Bra shma.

-I have practiced the piano more this month than I have in the last 4 years combined.

-my hips get achy and I need to walk around every two hours.

-time is flying. I only have 6 days to get 12,065 words written. They literally may be "blah blah blah blah" at the rate I'm going.

-writing makes me tired. Not hot yoga tired but a kind of tired that makes me stare at my couch in the middle of the day like a long lost lover who has finally returned to me. "Come to me" it beckons from across the room. It's hair blowing in the wind. "Fabio? Is that you?"

-I am all caught up on American Horror Story. I've been watching it online because the computer is right in front of me all the time. I love that show. Plus, it has the coach's wife in it. Her hair. Oh, her hair.

-It is possible, perfectly conceivable, quite literally probable, that I am eating myself to death.

-and there isn't enough Diet Pepsi.......... or Advil Liquigels, on the planet to reduce this chaos into something comprehendible.

-if I was a writer, an actual writer, I'd be that writer you'd talk about at dinner parties. The crazy one. The one you saw at Safeway in her jammies. The one who never washes her hair. The one who lives off ichiban and Diet Pepsi. The one who drank a 36 pack in 4 days. Now that's something to talk about. The one you wouldn't let your kids talk to or touch if you met me anywhere because "she's crazy, children. Stay away." There is a level of unkempt that can only be defined with the aid of a doctor. A straight jacket kind of doctor.

-I need a schedule. And not one that has a deadline.

-I have to stop now because I could do this all day. Plus it's making me anxious. And I have a deadline.

Toodles.

if rudolph were from newfoundland

Yesterday I took part in a facebook debate between husband and wife. And really, who doesn't love to get in between a husband and wife conflict that is not their own? You can throw your opinion every which way knowing that your own personal doghouse will remain empty that night.

Love that.

The debate involves an age old song that over time may have lost some zest in terms of pronunciation.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

As it was brought to my attention, one member of the couple insisted it was pronounced doff, the L being silent.

Oh for shame!

I sang it over and over. I was convinced, and remain still, the L was, in fact, pronounced and not silent. But..... maybe I was wrong.

Enter......the 'research'.

Yes, people, I like to know when I am doing something wrong. I could be walking around, year after year, singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with an L audible to all when, in fact, the L should be silent.

We are talking first world problems here. To a spectacular degree.

So I researched it. Even more so than what was being said on facebook.

Turns out the people who thought the L was silent are all from Newfoundland.

This is neither here nor there. Well, it may be more here than there but I'm not getting into it.

This is what I discovered in my extensive research on this most important matter.

1. This most confusing and not very helpful audio.

2. And this cha cha Q&A.

Cha cha is always right, isn't it. Didn't Ellen say that once on her show?

I'm sure there is more but what I have decided is that, in the spirit of Christmas and all that is gleeful singing and joyous reindeers, people should sing it how they want.

No one can tell the difference anyway.

So....... how do you sing it?

Now that the song is conveniently stuck somewhere in your right hemisphere, or maybe your left depending on whether or not you are from Newfoundland, are you feeling hungry?

Perhaps you should whip up some of this amazing soup. You know, for the carol festival you are sponsoring in your head right now.

My friend Sara gave me the recipe and I don't know where she got it from but holy mother of soup, it is the best soup I have ever had. And I can say with pride and astonishment that every single member of my annoyingly picky family loves it. Kale and all!

Yummy Potato and Italian Sausage Soup

RECIPE INGREDIENTS:

8 to 10 medium cleaned Idaho potatoes with skin on and cubed
2 lbs of mild Italian sausage, loose or links with the skin removed
3 ribs of celery, sliced length wise then diced
2 scallions (only) diced
1 large tablespoon of chopped garlic
1 litre of half & half
10 cups of chicken broth (sometimes I add more)
1 half package of Real Bacon Bits
1 package of cleaned and dried fresh spinach or Kale
1 container of fresh grated parmesan cheese( fresh kind only)
1/2 cup of flour

Seasonings:
1 teaspoon or 2 nice shakes of red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon of paprika
1 teaspoon of sea salt



DIRECTIONS
Brown sausage meat in a large pot. Drain. Add scallions, celery, bacon and garlic. Saute for a few minutes. Then add potatoes and 8 cups of chicken broth. Add paprika and red pepper flakes. Bring to a mild boil and turn down and simmer for 45 minutes to a hour or until potatoes are fork tender. Then slowly add the spinach or kale and work into soup, and simmer a couple more minutes. Mix the flour with the remaining broth and gradually add to the pot. It will not make it thick but it will add some body to broth...and finally stir in slowly the half and half (I used 3/4 of the quart). Salt to taste. Simmer a few minutes more and serve in bowls with a nice sprinkle of the fresh parmesan cheese.

The changes I personally made to it are:
-I use both fresh kale and spinach. I chop and add the kale to it when I add the potatoes and let it simmer. It never takes 45 minutes and I think that's because I use red potatoes because they are my favourite. I add the spinach towards the end.

-I use the entire litre of half and half.

-I skip the parmesan because I'm cheap and I don't really like parmesan. But mostly because I'm cheap.

-I also cook up a whole pound of bacon and chop that up to stick in the soup because I like bigger pieces of bacon and also because it's cheaper than buying the real bacon bits. And, as I may have already mentioned, I'm kind of cheap.

I prefer frugal but.......

Whatever.

Enjoy!

waxing nostalgic

Looking at old videos and pictures of my babies is creating in me some emotion.

I am waxing nostalgic.

Nostalgic for the olden days. Not the olden days like the days of Laura Ingalls. Just the olden days of me.

The days when my babies were being born. The days where I could pull a baby to my nose anytime I wanted and breathe him in. It was a never ending inhalation around here.

November seems to be a month of babies this year. They are coming all around me. I can smell them. I haven't even met them yet and I can smell them. It is scrumptious. The nostalgia is making me yearn.

Don't get carried away. This does not mean I want another baby. I know it doesn't. I wondered for a fraction of a second myself.

What is this? I pondered to myself. Do I want another one?

And then BOOM. Reality. No way. No way do I want to that again. No way do I want to put my body through that again. And my mind.

No way.

The other night I had a dream. I guess that is what sparked this internal discussion within me. The dream must have been prompted by all the babies being born in such a short time. And also by my eternal fear that my body will fail me and one day I will wake up and discover a life within. Every woman who knows her mind is done having babies has this dream.

Right?

The dream. It's the dream where I'm ‘late’ and I say things to myself like "this can't be happening" and "what are we going to do?" All the while rubbing my belly and just knowing in that womanly way we sometimes know things that there is a life inside. The dream turns into a nightmare when my husband says really unsupportive things like "everything will be okay" and "I guess we're going to have a baby" with a super fake and painfully forced smile on his face. There are visions of stabbing him in the eye.

Is that part just me? Oh……..

I can tell you I didn't wake up feeling happy from this dream. I was panicked and worried. I checked my calendar. Then I danced a dance designed to coax the gods of womanhood. To convince them that I am not a vessel for childbearing anymore. But instead, a museum. I am a museum of awesome that has all the indicators of the amazing abilities my femininity has allowed me. I needed to convince those gods that I was not a willing participant. My body does not approve. My time is done.

It was just a dream, I told myself when I awoke. No need to panic.

It was just a dream.

The feelings this dream has invoked within me are proof enough that I am only nostalgic and not in reality missing, or wanting, or needing a baby in my life.

Maybe the waxing nostalgic comes from remembering. A remembering of a time in my life where things were hard but steady. Hard in the work of birthing babies. Steady in the struggle of raising them. My waxing might come from remembering that I did that.

Me.

I did that.

I lived it and I came out the other side.

Times are different now. New hard things, new phases of my life. Mine and my children’s. A newness that presents challenges both difficult and scary.

If I look hard enough, strain my neck, squint my eyes, I can see the other side of this.

It's real pretty.

take backsies

Remember when I trashed on twitter?



I was wrong.

I am deeply sorry.

I #heart twitter.

@Twitter be dope, yo.

Thought you should know when I admit how shamefully wrong I am.

Tweet me sometime. Maybe we could be facebook friends.

Wait....what??

I need to go to bed now.

Good night my peeps I mean, tweeps, or twits, or fb friends, or....... who are you again?

seemedly, I am fustrated........

Yesterday I wanted to blog a little sumpin' for your lovely eyes. But seeing as how I was over 6000 words behind on my book I needed to do that instead. Four day weekends with 4 kids will kill a certain momentum, youknowwhatimean? So...... I needed a day to catch up.

I almost did catch up but then, all of a sudden, I couldn't see straight anymore and I started making up words. This is when I figured that not only should I stop but I should probably not bother mashing words together on my blog either.

I started making up words. Well, it was one word and I didn't know I was making it up. I thought it was a real word but the little red line kept telling me no.

I hate it when the computer is wrong and I am right, I thought to myself. So I googled it. Nothing. So I dictionary.com'd it. No results found.

Well, what the heck??? Seemedly was surely a word. I tried hard to prove it. But to no avail. Here's the sentence I wanted to put it in:

"And seemedly more in control of his temper than I would have given him credit for."

I was perplexed. What happened to the word seemedly? Did someone remove it from the dictionary because they hate me?

Well, I never. I had to remove it from my almost New York Times Best Seller and insert seemingly instead.

Because apparently, seemingly is a real word. Seemingly. Pfft. Whatever.

Who can I email to get my word made into an official word? I want copyrights.

People use words all the time that are a total crock of madeupedness. But because they are oblivious to their own ignorance (and I mean that in the nicest possible way) they get to spew those freely out into the universe.

How is that fair?

Here are a few examples for you to consider incorporating into your everyday vocabulary. I will give you the word and then give you a highly intelligent sentence as an example.

Acrossed. As in "He was acrossed the street." Nope, sorry, not a word. Not in any context whatsoever.

Fustrated. As in "I feel fustrated when people don't speak real good. Y'know?" Come on now y'all. Come on.......

Supposably. As in "Supposably he's a Rhodes Scholar. Hmmmmm, I wonder why I'm not." Don't quote me on this but I think it supposably has something to do with the people who love you not telling you the truth. Or something like that.

Actually, I think we can blame that one on spell check since it doesn't recognize the word as being UTTERLY and ridiculously wrong!

Irregardless. As in "Irregardless of what people try and tell me I don't believe in redundancy."

Don't even get me started on the whole controversy surrounding the to/two/too epidemic and the plague what is they're/there/their. What about the fact that yesterday does not have a U in it and that definitely is spelled wrong 97% of the time. Yes it most definitely does not have an A in it.

For the love of all that is good grammar and spelling correctness someone teach the people!

So back to my point. I want seemedly to become a word. I believe it makes sense and I like the way it flows from my tongue.

I wrote this post late last night so I could post this morning and still get another 6000 word day in on my book.

I seemedly have my priorities straight.

See what I mean? It's a word.