eight words are all that I can muster.

I am an author.

This morning, November 30, the last day of National Novel Writing Month, I submitted my novel, verified my word count, and became a winner at 12:45 am.

43160

I may not finish tonight, but I am finishing for sure by midnight tomorrow. I'm still going strong.
My latest stroke of genius:
A dog named Mary, Queen of Scots.

I should make it run away so that the owner can cry out,"Here, Mary Queen of Scots! Here, mary Queen of Scots! Here, Mary, Queen of Scots!"

Adjectives. Pretty much all I can think of.

I went on an unplanned noveling hiatus over the past 6 days. I couldn't concentrate because Gus was gone, then there was Thanksgiving, then there was the unplanned, "Hey kids, wouldn't it be fun to spend the day at Aunt Kaycee's?" "You don't mind, do you, Kace?" day.
(never before have I typed out the shortened version of my name. My nickname's nickname.)

So I have 35,000 words written, 15,000 to go, and about 50 hours to do it. My plan is to wrap up the meat of the book in about 7,000 words or so, then go back and fill in details and whatnot.
A blue lamp (2 words) will become a lovely blue turn-of-the century lamp with a hand beaded silk shade. (10 words!)

wish me luck.

Black Friday

According to Portland news, shoppers lined up outside Toys R Us spat on each other for cutting in line last night. I wonder what they were lined up for and how much they thought they were saving. I suspect Elmo was involved.

I've got no use for shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. If things I wanted were on sale, it would be a different story, but I don't need a new TV or digital camera.
Well, actually, I do want a new digital camera, but the kind I want never goes on sale, I've learned. I guess I want the ipod of cameras.

I hope people buy a lot of crap- I really want the economy to recover- but I'm not contributing.

Thanksgiving

Of course, I am thankful that Gus is home, safe and sound. And, my family and all that. But there are some other things I am grateful for, as well.

For instance, I am thankful for my incredibly reliable car. My It's got 199,980 miles on it right now, so the next time I drive it we will likely hit the big deuce.

I am thankful for my job, and that I never think about work when I am " off the clock"

I am thankful for my memory foam mattress topper. It makes my bed so comfortable.

I am thankful that I don't have leprosy, because that would really suck.

I am thankful that I am properly potty-trained. I don't know if I ever said thanks to my mom for that, but I really appreciate it now, especially since I hate doing laundry. Way to go, mom!

A crazy day

I know that there is a lot of contention about the definition of "ironic."
I don't think Alanis Morisette had it quite right- it isn't ironic that it rains on your wedding day. I think, however, that as I struggle to come up with a plot for a fiction novel, these real-life events have happened in my life:

*Saturday, middle of the night- dog runs away.
*Sunday, I call police to report lost dog. I talk to Allison, a helpful dispatcher, who takes my report.
* Sunday- My husband's grandmother steps off a curb and falls face down into Highway 99, blacking both her eyes. She is on blood thinners, so she is a bloody mess.
*Monday, pre-dawn- Allison, the police dispatcher, calls me from her personal cell phone. She had been walking her dog and spotted Gus. She and I tried to coax him out of his lost-dog psychosis, but the crazy was strong in Gus. Allison called Darla, the dog catcher, who only scared Gus worse. He bolted.
spent the rest of Monday searching, searching.
We were planning on going to my Mom 's for a couple days pre-Thanksgiving, and then spending Thursday and Friday with Spencer's family. If Gus was still loose, we couldn't leave town.
* Tuesday, I get up before dawn, and head to where Allison and I had seen Gus the previous day. No sign of him. I was beginning to feel discouraged.
* Tuesday, about 1:00, a lady calls to say she and her mother had sighted Gus laying in a field. The lady was the mayor. So, Spencer and I head to the field, meet the mayor and ask Gus if he would like a ride home. At first, he says no thanks, I would like to go for a 2 mile jog. But then, he got tangled up in some blackberry briars. At that point, Spencer could get close enough for Gus to see through his panic... Gus recognized him and nearly knocked him over when he charged toward him. So that was good. Dog, home. Thanks to the mayor!
* So, now we need to get packed and ready to go to Naselle. Okay, check.
* We get on the freeway, and Spencer calls his mom's house to see if there is anything we can bring for Thanksgiving. This is kind of a formality, as we won't be home Wednseday to cook or go to the store. Maybe we can bring pop or something.
* But. Spencer's mom is on her way to the hospital with his adopted autistic 15 year-old brother,
who was walking to the library, when he saw an empty pop can across the street. Knowing that he could take the can to the store and trade it for a nickel, he (you know what's coming) darted out in front of an oncoming car and got hit. Thank God he only has a broken leg. He needs surgery, and he may be in the hospital until Thursday. So Surprise! Thanksgiving is at Spencer's moms, but I am cooking. Oh, and we aren't going to Naselle.

I'm kinda wishing I got my swine flu shot.

8 things to do when your dog is missing

Look at the great pyrenees puppies. None of them are as cute as Gus was.
Here are 8 things to do when your dog hits the streets.

1. Put an ad on craigslist. It's quick, free, and people see it.

2. Get in the car and drive in progressively larger concentric circles around your home for about 5 hours. You won't find your dog this way, but it's better than sitting home.

3. Call the police, or animal control agency in your area. When asked if your dog is licensed, say "No." like it's a ridiculous question. The cops love that.

4. Call the shelters. These folks are dog and cat experts. The guy who asks if your great pyrenees is black is probably new.

5. Get back in the car and return to places that your dog has been spotted, over and over. Stray dogs are known for just chillin' in one area.

6. Ask everyone you see on the street if they have seen your lost puppy. Especially little kids.

7. use your "down time" between walks, drives and bike rides to relax, and plan a "Welcome Home!" party for your pooch.

8. lolcats.

Things I learned this week- Gus the Wander Dog edition

Well I did not make it to Newport. Spencer woke me up at 4 am to tell me that Gus was in the wind. He doesn't like thunderstorms, and he apparently busted through our gate and took off sometime last night. Curiously, Murphy stayed. I don't think they have been apart for more than the length of a bath for the past 9 or 10 years. I can see that Murphy is heartbroken, I can only imagine how Gus must be panicking.
I drove around for about 8 hours... but now, where else can I go? Now, we have to wait. Polica are called, shelters are called, signs are up, Craig has listed.
So the mostimportant thing I learned is that we need a better latch on the gate. Here is what else I learned.

* I had pad thai, not from a box. It was delicious! Better than out of the box.

* I learned that I want a Scottish Fold cat. This has nothing to do with Gus being gone. Because, holy moly those are cute cats.

* I learned that my daughter needs extensive orthodontics and surgery. Six grand for the braces and then I don't even want to guess what portion my insurance won't cover for jaw surgery. Wabi Sabi....

purls of wisdom

Today was a day of maternal excellence. I dropped Madison off in Salem for the afternoon for a girl scout event, where someone else taught her to knit. No tears, no frustration... only success.
I went to Portland, where I had a really nice lunch with my girlfriends, and I realized, after I was heading back home, that I really miss them. They don't have mental problems. They don't try my patience, at all.

Fantastic day.
Tomorrow, Madison and I head to Newport for the all-day write in at the aquarium. It is unlikely that I will finish my novel as I had hoped. My new goal is to just have a nice day.

What a dickhead.

from The Smoking Gun weekly mugshot roundup. I can't really add much.

There are some things you just shouldn't google.

Case in point: The above image was on the first page of results in a google image search for "Safe Search"

I don't know what the hell that has to do with safe search.

I've devised a plan to kill my character. But my problem is that I don't know that much about the ins and outs of death, unless it occurs at a nursing home. I am scared to google it, because not long ago, I tried to google....oh I can't even remember what I was looking for now, but I remember that it was an innocuous term that resulted in lots of un-pixelated photos of Daniel Pearl's head in his executioner's hand.
It scarred me. I never intended to write about death, so I am either going to just make up shit that sounds right, or gloss over it- like, "Then, he died."

I am looking forward to being done... just a few more days.

I discover a prejudice or two

Today I discovered that I am prejudiced against Mary Kay Ladies. I was trying to think of a spiteful, terrible, lonely, two-faced woman. What would she do for a living? Sell Mary Kay!
I don't know why I feel this way about Mary Kay ladies. I like Mary Kay products. I don't have anything against home-based multi-level marketing companies like Scentsy, Pampered Chef, Tupperware...In fact, I go out of my way to support the women who sell these things. I once was an Avon lady, and that was a good experience- I don't do it anymore because I don't like to sell things... but I sure like to buy things! And with Avon, the only up-front cost is $10.oo. You don't even pay for your product until 2 weeks after you get it.
But, I don't think it's the Avon vs. MaryKay thing that taints my perception of Mary Kay ladies. I think it's Mary Kay Ladies.
I spent some time researching MK this afternoon (for my novel) and there are some really sad stories out there. Directors are expected to buy a Director's Suit every year, for about $400.00. And they are ugly suits. Women are pressured to quit their day jobs- "You have to show up to go up" is a common Mary Kay saying.
I am sure there are good, honest women out there, selling makeup and working hard. But more often , I hear about women who put thousands of dollars of product on their credit cards in order to move up to the next Super Pearl of Love and Understanding Level.
But I digress.
The point is, that I have this prejudice inside me.
Such a journey of self-discovery this noveling has become.

Help Wanted

I am over halfway done with my novel, and it is coming along okay. I sort of wrote myself into a corner a couple days ago- one of my characters made a completely unauthorized bonehead move that sort of stopped my plot in my tracks. I've got the story moving in another direction now, and I still think I will win NaNoWriMo. Here is your chance to get your name on the acknowledgment page!

*Please tell me a little bit about something you have donated to charity. Why did you give it away? Who did you think would buy it?

* Have you ever scored at the thrifter? Tell me about it.

* I think I may need to kill off a character, suddenly. Any great ways to go?

Thanks!

8 things about quitting smoking

Wednesday is a big day here, two CBL readers celebrate birthdays, and it will be the 365th day in a row that I haven't smoked. Here are some thoughts about that:

* I wish there were magic cigarettes, I know I have said this before, that I could smoke only once in a while. I think I would probably go through 3 or 4 of these a month.

* I've gained about 15 pounds in a year. I don't think they are the most attractive pounds, either. seven or eight of them are on my face.

* I haven't been sick in a year.

* I love that I don't have to go outside in the cold and wet.

* I love that I can go places overnight and not have to worry about how I am going to smoke.

* At the conservative estimated price of $4.50 per pack ( I see that they are now over $5!) I have saved $1642.50. I don't know where the hell that money is, though. Perhaps I ate it.

* Food doesn't taste any better. That's a lie. It's just that how do you know when to stop eating if you can't have a cigarette afterward?

* Quitting smoking is, I think, the hardest thing I have ever done, and the thing I am most proud of. I recommend it. But also, on the other hand, I don't want to be preachy. I'm not anti- smoking. I still inhale extra-deeply as I walk past smokers.

Things I learned this week: Teen Retreat edition

This was another fun weekend. It started Friday, when I took Madison and another girl from our troop to a camp near Portland for a Girl Scout older girl retreat. Madison met up with a friend she had made at Summer camp- the three of them are pictured above. Then, on Saturday, we hurried home because Spencer had won tickets to the Ducks game. He had two tickets, so he took Madison. I went along for the ride, and killed three or four hours in Eugene on a Saturday night while they watched the game. Here's what I learned:

* I learned that things turn out okay if I sit down and get out of the way. The retreat was a girl-planned, girl led activity. Basically, the adults were chauffeurs. I showed up, was shown a seat close to the fire, and watched the girls have a great time. They even did the meals themselves. I wish that the girls would have learned that you can't quiet a group by yelling for them to be quiet. The weekend was successful and fun for the girls, but damn, the noise that 25 excited girls can make in a one-room lodge is sometimes painful.

* I learned how to play Apples to Apples. We were asked to bring board games, so I brought Apples to Apples, which has been stored, unopened, in our game closet since either last Christmas or the one before it. My family loves games, we bring them to lots of family functions. So, we get games as gifts. And it never fails that we get a game for four or more players every year. They sure look fun.
Anyway, I brought Apples to Apples to the retreat, and the girls taught me how to play. It couldn't be simpler, and it is fun and funny.

* I learned that Autzen stadium really is incredibly loud. I was inside Trader Joe's, a good half mile away from the stadium as the crow flies, and I could hear the crowd. Inside the store!

* I learned that when the inside of your car is clean, it seems to run better.

* I learned that if it weren't for write-ins, it would be harder to make any progress on my novel. Writing at home is difficult at times, but at the write-ins, not writing is hard. I'm afraid to stop clicking the keys for too long. There is peer pressure.

Another failure.

Tonight, Omega Mu hosted a party for women whose husbands (grammar bad) are deployed overseas. The object of the party was to thank them for their sacrifice.
The party was held at a local salon, where 6 stylists stayed late to offer free services. Free haircuts, free haistyles, free makeup, free brow wax.
One of the wives is a scentsy dealer, she came to set up her wares to sell. We had a Pure Romance consultant. We had wine and food.
We were told that emails went out to over 100 women, inviting them.
But no one came.

See what happens when you try to do something nice?

A couple of us ended up paying for haircuts, so the stylists weren't waiting around for nothing. We bought some scentsy stuff and some pure romance stuff and we drank some wine... but still.
disappointing.

Also, I totally blogged yesterday. I guess I just forgot to hit publish.

Worst. Euphemisim. Ever.

What did your mom call your rear end when you were little? Rear end? Bottom?
My Grandma Kay called it a "fanny", which always made me giggle because she had a friend named Fanny.
Some parents just call it a butt. We always thought that was crude.
I've heard "patoot" or "patooty", I think those are too cutesy.

My mother, however, had the absolute worst name for my baby bottom.
poopy.
"Sit on your poopy!" She would always yell. She never asked me politely to sit on my poopy. Sometimes, in church, she would hiss it loudly.
And so I spent the first 5 or 6 years of my life thinking that everyone called it their poopy. And boy did I get a whole bunch of kindergarten guff the first time I told some smartass kid to kiss my poopy.

My Christmas Problem

I realized a few days ago that Christmas is not far away. By the time National Novel Writing Month ends, it will be December. And December means Christmas.

I have some problems with Christmas. One of those problems is bad gifts.
I am afraid to give bad gifts. I really want everyone to really like what I give them. But I also want to give hand-made gifts, even if they aren't hand-made by me. I love Etsy for Christmas.
But what do you give a 14 year old boy? Etsy is lacking in that department. I guess cash. But giving cash seems like admitting you have absolutely no imagination.
Also, I will say it here: I get a little pissed off when I get crappy gifts. If that makes me sound like a spoiled bitch, so be it. But note I did not say inexpensive gifts.
I just wonder, dear bad gift-giver: When you were in Wal*Mart with your Christmas list, made of names in one column and amount to spend in the opposite column, what was it about the pre-boxed and wrapped snowflake-print polarfleece hat/scarf/ mitten set that made you think of me? Why not the Ex-cla-MA-t!on gift pack?

8 things I did not expect about writing my novel

1. One of my characters is going to become a carny. He has been looking for a job, and thanks to Jeremy's facebook post about carnies, he found the perfect occupation.

2. One of my characters is a cross-dresser.

3. So far, nearly 20,000 words in, it is a lot easier than I had imagined.

4. It is also fun. It's like reading a book, only it's the best Choose Your Own Adventure book ever.

5. I thought I would be able to make room in my consciousness for my story to unfold and still maintain my blog. I was wrong. The story pretty much takes up everything.

6. I put a real-life story from the newspaper into my story. Like Law and Order, ripped from the headlines.

7. Even though it is going well and it is fun, I am starting to think it isn't super-awesome.

8. One of my characters lives in a yurt. By choice!

Things I learned this week: 18,000 words edition

So I am 18,000 words into my novel when I learn a thing that makes kind of a huge difference- one of my characters is on methadone to treat his meth addiction. Only, what I learned is that methadone doesn't help with meth addiction. So now my character is lying about his drug of choice. What a shifty loser, still in denial.

I also learned that Mennonites do not take oaths. They figure that since God told them to always tell the truth, it doesn't make sense to take an oath to be more truthful at some times than others.

I learned that bees do pee, but they don't like to do it in the hive. They like to do it in my eye.

I learned that crossdressers refer to being dressed as their biological gender as being "in drab."

I learned that the clothes that are donated to Goodwill, but not sold on the sales floor because they are outdated/soiled/ripped are baled together and sold by the unit to wholesalers, who ship them to third world countries, where they are sold. Not given away.

Marching Band competition

Tonight, Madison and I went to Reser Stadium to watch a high school marching band competition. Madison gets points for band by attending musical performances.
We sat through 4 hours of high school marching bands in the cold, on bleachers. Mercifully, it did not rain.
I like marching bands. My high school did not have one, and neither did any of the other schools in our league, so I don't know a lot about what to expect from a high school marching band.
They all sounded good.
I just don't get all the flag twirlers and dancers and rifle throwers. watching some of the bands was like watching a three-ring circus- I wasn't sure where to look, there was so much going on.
I guess that must be a good thing, because the top two bands had a lot of diversions.

Then, the OSU marching band played. They did their halftime show from last weekend- a medley of the Time Warp, Highway to Hell, and Thriller.
They didn't do the Time Warp dance, but their flag twirlers did. The whole band, save for the drum line and the sousaphones, did the Thriller dance. And it was awesome. Worth the 4 hour wait.

Moove over Grooler, meet the Hawaii Chair.

So I am trying to think of things that people give to the thrift store. Clothes, books... old exercise equipment.

Google led me to the Hawaii Chair. Ellen Degeneres has known about the Hawaii Chair for years, so I guess this is nothing new, but today was the first I had heard of a chair with a motorized oscillating seat.

Click Here to see.

Sometimes

Sometimes, people who are given a little bit of power abuse it. They lose sight of the big picture and focus on the pixels. No one cares about pixels. The pixels are just dots.

EDIT: and sometimes, I make stupid posts. Like this one. It irritates me when people don't come out and say what they are trying to say, so I'll say it.
My cousin's English teacher marked her WAY down on a good paper because the computer formatting wasn't correct.
It's not a formatting class, it's a COMPOSITION class. And the composition was good.

Sometimes, life isn't fair, I guess.

Six or seven hours we will never get back.

Soul Pancake asks; What are three movies you wish you had never seen?

Spencer says:
Bridge to Terabithia- because we saw the movie before we read the book. We were not prepared.

The Go-Getter- It's nothing againsZooey Deschanel, who also has a role in Bridge to Terabithia. He just did not like this movie.

The Dark Crystal- Because he had to take his younger brother to see it in the theater.

My three:
I have to agree with Bridge to Terabithia

There will be Blood- I kept waiting for Daniel Plainview to redeem himself.

SuperSize Me- because I thought the movie was contrived. I liked the idea, though. I love a social experiment.


Novel update:
13,948 words. I'm pretty happy with a couple characters. Also, over 1/4 done!

I'm a stranger in a strange land.

My novel is really coming along. Over 9000 words! My goal is to finish on the 22nd in Newport, be done with it for Thanksgiving.

It is set in Albany, in the present, which poses a small problem- I don't know that much about the town I live in. I have used Google a lot today to discover the seedy underbelly of Albany, Oregon.

One of the thrift stores in town is run by a family who started their own church about 40 years ago. They also have rooms for rent for the homeless. I read tales of the family taking half of the residents' food stamps for rent. They would go shopping with the benefit cards and come home with two separate grocery orders, one for the family and one for the residents- steak in the freezer for the family, watery chicken soup for residents.
Sour grapes? Maybe. But an interesting story. The brother and sister who run the mission have been married more than 5 times each, according to anectodal internet evidence. The sister performs the weddings, since she is an ordained minister in her own church.
There have been two suspicious fires at buildings the mission owns, and insurance was collected.

Intrigue! In Albany!

I don't know if any of this will find its way into my novel, but it wouldn't surprise me. It's awfully juicy.

Eight things about the first two days of NaNoWriMo

* First of all, I have been surprised at how easily the words flow from my mind to my keyboard. I have sat with hands curled above the keys for twenty minutes, waiting for inspiration to strike, when blogging- before giving up and writing a haiku. Noveling is fun!

* If you work with more than one computer, you need dropbox. It's a free data hosting service that stores your files and lets you access them from any computer. If both of your computers are hooked to the internet at the same time, files saved to your dropbox will update in real time. This has been very helpful over the past few days, and I am sure it will come in handy over the next 28.

* Mennonites won't take oaths, because to them, an oath is a promise to tell the truth, which implies that a person isn't bound to be honest without an oath. Intriguing.

* I like writing at write-ins. Tomorrow there will be one in Albany, as opposed to Corvallis, where there was one tongiht that I skipped. I'm looking forward to going tomorrow. I like the cameraderie.

* There is a state-wide write-in scheduled for the 22nd at the aquarium in Newport, and I want to go. I would like to finish my novel there.

* I think that one of the reasons I am doing so well (I have over 5,000 words already, the challenge is to write 50,000) is that I have learned to just get words on the screen. When I blog, sometimes, my aim is just to get something typed so I can hit the publish button and get to bed. I rarely proofread or edit. I think this skill (or non-skill) helps me. After all, I am not aiming to write a finished product here, I am aiming for a "shitty first draft" (thanks to Anne Lamont, author of Word by Word, for permission to write the SFD)

* It is surprisingly exhilirating to create.

* I must apologize in advance that for the next month, my blog is my red-headed stepchild. Anything remotely interesting I come across is going into the book.

Things I learned this week- 3419 words down edition!

This week, I went on a learning spree! Here's what I learned:

*I learned that bees pee. Or at least that is what I think I learned. Perhaps a devoted CBL reader who has knowledge of such things would correct me if I am wrong. Or perhaps she won't, if it is grosser than pee.

*I learned that in Canada, you have to rent your shopping cart for a dollar, similar to the way we rent luggage carts at the airport here in the U.S.

* I learned that even if your porch light is off and you have no Jack O Lantern, children will come to your door at 9:30 on Halloween.

* I learned that those kids can't tell the difference between candy bought this year at the store and candy collected last year by my daughter.

* I learned who Madame Defarge was. There was an hour or so when I thought I would be her for Halloween.

* I learned a whole lot about the history of wool felting. It goes back to the Neanderthals! To think, men were shrinking their wives woolen sweaters in the washing machine all those years ago.

* I learned that Ikea has a terrific breakfast. Spencer's flight was delayed about an hour and a half, so Madison and I decided to kill some time at Ikea. When we got there at 9:30, the store wasn't open, but the cafe was. I ordered the Swedish panckaes and Madison ordered bacon, eggs, french toast and potatoes. Each of our breakfasts cost $1.99, and drinks were 99 cents more. Not only was our meal cheap, it was really good. The coffee was really, really good.

Today, I went to a write-in for NaNoWriMo. We met at a cafe in Corvallis, and then moved to a bookstore a couple hours later. I was worried that it would be difficult to just write with a bunch of other people around, but it was actually quite easy. The first chapter of my book just spilled out of me. I had a great day and writing was a lot of fun, and I can't wait to write more tomorrow!