Cleanse. Ha!

Well, I bought the fiber drink and supplements. I waited a week so I had time to do this ten day cleanse. IToday was the designated day. Actually yesterday was, but I kept falling asleep and couldn't get to the grocery store until 7:00pm. I started out the day great and by this evening decided I just really want to eat. I love food. I love creating yummy meals. I love chocolate cupcakes for dessert. This cleanse thing is sooo hard. I can't go cold turkey. Maybe if I eat right during the day, I can eat yummy for dinner and go to bed happy. Am I even cut out to do things in life that take discipline? And no breaks in between, but straight out discipline. Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, doing something I am not too fond of doing? I can't even keep a blog daily and I like writing. If at first you don't succeed...try again in a week?

NaNoWriMo Three Times a Charm?

I signed up for NaNoWriMo again. National Novel Writing Month. I only wrote 300 words last year. The goal behind the program is to write 50,000 words from November 1st through November 30th. Since I have never been good at this, I made a personal goal of 10,000 words. So far I wrote two paragraphs last Tuesday. I am not disciplined enough. I found the start of my sequel so I have cheated and updated my NaNo status tonight to 1875 words. So that is a bit of a good start. We shall see if I have what it takes. If three times really is a charm.

Last Minute Decisions

Sigh. It figures. I have to go to bed tonight knowing that the first website I ever created has a picture of a woman bowling on it. My website is not about bowling. It is about my books. I am finally an author and people will think I am a professional bowler. Great. That's what I get for deciding at 8:45pm on a Sunday night to sit down and create a website. I had all weekend. I waited til it is time to go to bed before I have to get up early and go to work. (Not at a bowling alley.) I know nothing about computers or web design. I am so clueless and then add the extra pressure of cat who never meows deciding that now he will meow until I get up and play mice with him, which only makes the evening later and makes me pick the bowling alley design.  I tried to change it but it didn't save. Feel free to check out my new bowling website at http://www.victorialthurman.com/. Instead of "Come Fly with Me" my theme can be "come bowl with me." Good night.

Anymore Room in the World?

It is hard to say if this is just me, as I only know my own thoughts and sometimes they are very loud and may drown out someone else's, but I seem to have a lot of strange notions about the world and my place in it. About twelve years ago I began to see my first big dream possibly becoming a reality. (Don't let me bore you if you already know the story, just skip on down to the new part.) I wanted to move to Colorado. When I was growing up I wanted to go there so badly I could taste it. Almost every calendar I chose for myself was of scenes dipicting America's landscape and I would wear out the crease on the pictures of Colorado. I bought a coffee table book, when I was in college and had no coffee table to place it on, of America. The oversized heavy book would fall open to the Colorado pages. I knew in my heart I had to go there, but not just visit, I wanted my address to read, Any City in COLORADO.

I got a job in Atlanta with a computer company who had an office in Denver. My first day on the job, as a temp, I knew I had to become a permanent employee with this company so I could be transferred to Colorado. My permanent position was supposed to come four weeks after I started, but it turned into five months. I never doubted that I would have the permanent position in Atlanta and I continued to dream and make plans for my move, even though I could not imagine what job I would get, as I only knew how to be an admin. I couldn't imagine the admin there ever giving up her job. Then I began to doubt, seeing myself as small and insignificant compared to the big, busy world full of so many people, would there be room for me in Colorado? Would someone meet me at the state line and tell me NO VACANCIES? Maybe people would think I didn't belong there, this was their territory and I had no business, with as little experience I had in the world, to think I could just move there and set up camp by myself without any other reason to be there except I wanted to be there. I used to worry about that like it was a real possibilty. I know that sounds weird, but that was how I thought. I remember I freaked out before college graduation thinking when I walked up on that stage to receive my diploma, that the president would make me take a test and turn me away if I answered any question wrong. I didn't believe I knew enough to have earned that diploma. I didn't feel I knew enough to start a journey on my own in the world and I thought the world knew it. So five months after I began to work for that company in Atlanta, I found out the admin in the Colorado office was moving and I couldn't believe it my dream was coming true. I knew there had to be room for me. I'd just have to trust that there would be room for me. Seven months later on my thirtieth birthday I found my new apartment in Lakewood and I lived in Colorado for eight years and I learned my fear had been so silly.

For a couple of years now I have revisited that same silly fear, knowing full well this time, how silly it is, but never-the-less, here I have been eating meals with it and sleeping beside it at night. I believed the rejection letters I received and I did not make any further effort to send my manuscript out again. I felt I needed to make changes to conform it to today's most competitive markets. It sat in my room for four more years. Then this summer, I thought, why am I believing them? Did I not learn anything from moving to Colorado? In my silly mixed up notions, I had subconciously been waiting for a man to come into my life and we would get married and move to Colorado and live happily ever after. But waiting for something to happen on someone else's terms can be a long wait. If I wanted something to happen, I had to start it on my own. So this summer, I took a leap of faith and decided to self-publish my book.

The Dating Dilemmas of Delilah Dunnfield is the title of my book. Delilah is a woman who is looking for a man and finds herself instead. The cover design is in its second revision and I just received the manscript back two days ago with their revisions. The editor gave me a little review and said my book is "funny, touching, and inspiring." She gave me hope that there is room in this world for me and my books. I love my friends and family so much and appreciate their encouragement that got me this far, but sometimes it is the stranger who can break through a wall of doubt.

Blogging

Cover via Amazon

Hello again. I think I may be the worst blogger. I think I may benefit from reading Blogging for Dummies. I think I may be bad at this because well, of course one, I have not set aside time each day to write. The number one thing a writer should do is...write. There's a concept. But I think also, it may help to have an idea, or a centralized theme. I think I have exhausted my Edward theme. That wasn't planned by the way. That just happened. I am hearing a voice in my head telling me, "Don't let life happen to you. Make life happen for you." I'm creative, I should be able to think of something, right? I am good at projects. I am kind of lost without them- I just kind of wander around aimlessly. I am an artist, but I never sketch. I do projects. Paint a canvas, paint a stool, etc. I used to write in a journal every day, starting when I was thirteen. But then in my twenties, I got depressed and decided I didn't even want to relive what happened. I stopped journaling. I started writing a novel. A project. One that took me ten years to complete. If you ask me though, it is still not quite complete. It needs some revision. I hear a lot of authors had a "practice" novel. One that at the time they wrote it - they thought it was great. But then after they wrote a second one, it turns out their opinion changed. The first one was only practice. So I am moving on from that ten year project and am working on another one. I got the title in 2004. Does that mean this is another ten year project? I did not start writing it until last year. I have a long ways to go. But since I do not want to write my novel on my blog...I decided I will work my way through writing books. I have heard for years, if you want to be a writer, then you must read Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird. I purchased a copy of it years ago. Have I broken-in the spine yet? No.

Last year I turned 40 and decided to spend my fortieth year doing things I have never done before. Not really a 'bucket list', but if something comes up, I promise myself not to turn down an opportunity. I rode a Ferris wheel the first time ever in my 39th year, but I think that was the only thing I could claim as a first. This year, I ate a raw oyster. (It also helped that I was rewarded $20 for doing it.) I took a boot camp class and lost 10 pounds. Goodness, I know there was more to it than eating an oyster and sweating myself into my first bladder infection. When I think of the others I will let you know. Anyway...my point is that I will read Anne Lamott's book and then I will read another writing book, etc.

I went to a concert! I saw The GooGoo Dolls last fall. My first real in this day and age concert. I don't count going to see "Earth, Wind, and Fire" in 2000 a real concert because they are an oldies band.

I will try to be here at least once a week blogging about my thoughts on writing and the books I am reading. Maybe you'll be here too?

Good night.

Vampire Diaries Theme Night

I missed the whole first season of "The Vampire Diaries" last year, because I didn't get the channel.  However, my friend who lived across the river watched it and always talked about it. She invited me over for the premiere, as I now live across the river too.  When we saw the theme for the next week, Carnival, we decided to do a theme night every Thursday.  I'll change her name to protect the innocent, now I can't think of a name, hold on, I'll call and ask her what it should be... okay! Bambi made pizza and I brought cotton candy and hellium balloons for the four of us. (Her two teenagers daughters carve out every Thursday to spend with me and their mom.) The next week was when the wolves were introduced, so I bought buttons that said things like "Wolf Girl." My memory is fading and I can't remember what Bambi made for dinner, but she gave each of us Vampire Blood hand sanitizer. The next week was doubles, so we had double decker sandwiches and I brought 4 headbands, two had devil horns and two had cat ears and we each wore one. The next week was the past, Bambi made up stories giving each of us a past life and we read them aloud at the dinner table.  The next week was a repeat, I believe that was the night we had breakfast- as in a repeat of the past meal. So good! I brought maple syrup for Bambi's pancakes. We watched a movie instead of the show.  Last week we decided the theme would be moonstone. None of us could think of anything to bring, (unless we bought expensive moonstone rings) so I looked online and found a restaurant in California called Moonstone and they served Moonstone Clam Chowder.  So I made clam chowder, except Bambi and her girls were driving in from a vacation and got stuck in traffic. A neighbor let me in the house and I started dinner. I watched the first twenty minutes of the show alone, except for their dog Coco, who loves to jump on me.  Finally they arrived. We ate Moonpies for dessert. 

I know this is a lame ending, but I need to get ready for the Masquerade Ball tonight and I have nothing to wear! (Vampire Diary theme tonight.)

Edward's Return

Last Thursday I was invited to a Chamber of Commerce Mixer on the roof of our parking garage. The hotel next door was providing the hors d'oeuvres.  I did not have long to spend as I was on my way to a friend's house for another Vampire Diary night. (I'm really not into vampires.) I arrived on the rooftop at 5:20pm because I had to work late.  I found the person who extended the invitation to me (none other than my friend The Mayor of East Ridge) and he insisted I go help myself to some snacks. I came to an abrupt halt when I saw "Edward" standing before me. He was wearing madras shorts with brown Nikes, tennis socks and a blue short sleeved button down shirt- untucked and wrinkled. He topped it off with Ray-Bans. I followed along behind him and watched him load his little 6" paper plate up with cheese cubes and little sandwiches. I waited for him to leave the sandwich plate, he was talking to the hostess. He looked up at me startled I was there (though not because he recognized me as his almost stalker) and said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and smiled. I smiled back and said, "That's okay." I wanted to ask where he was working now, but as that is the type of question a stalker would ask, I refrained. And now I feel I have been exonerated from appearing like a stalker. I'm free!!! I smiled all the way home.  As also, I snickered a little too at the memory of 'Edward' in shorts. He looked more like a cross between Edward and Macaulay Culkin.

Doubt is a Dirty Word

I didn't write any of my story last weekend. I didn't write all week. I looked at a couple of my research books, but only to see when they were due back at the library. (This Saturday.)  I was given a chance at some real help from a woman who writes and edits books out in California. So grateful and extremely excited, I busted out plots, a summary and a tag line. When I got to the part of the outline that required me to write what happens in each chapter, I wrote a tiny sketch of the first four, not even sure those would be the first four chapters.  Then I froze up and now here I am. I gave myself ten days to get this done. If I want to be finished with my book before next spring, I need to get on it right? But I am in doubt that I am any good at this.  I doubt that my characters will be strong. I doubt the plot. The funny thing about doubt is that you can't just (well, I can't anyway) doubt one thing, eventually it all breaks down and you end up even doubting your existance.

Ever since I could put sentences together I have been writing stories or volumes of journals, an endless sea of letters to friends and family.  I have enough practice under my belt.  I know what I like to read. I know the difference between good and bad writing. Why would I write badly if I know the difference? I won a writing contest that involved publishers and screenwriters judging the stories. I know deep in my soul, I'm onto something here. My success seems to always stop at second best. Why am I afraid to try for first place? What could happen that would be so bad? Why am I afraid to write on this blog every day? Afraid you can't relate? You'll be bored? You wouldn't be coming back, I think, if I bored you by now. My love for writing is just an example of anyone's dream. I could be writing about becoming a chef. It's all the same. Insert your dream here.

Yesterday I went a-wandering. (as the song goes) and I found myself at the discount bookstore. I wandered over to the writers help section. One book caught my eye. The Fire in Fiction. It was only after my interest in the book that I noticed the author's name. Donald Maass. I knew it was a sign my wandering wasn't just an accident. Do you know that one of the prizes at that writing contest (back in Colorado in 2005) was to have Donald Maass take a look at your book and provide you with helpful feedback? He has a literary agency in New York. I didn't win his prize, but I'll never forget his name. It was like he was the prize to strive for; his was the top prize of the evening. So I began reading some of the book last night. I skipped around and found the reason why I was lead to that wonderful book.

The story I am working on now is so close to my heart. I have been hiding it in there for years. Doubting I could justify my feelings or portray them accurately. Doubting anyone would believe it or care. Then I read this paragraph from Mr. Maass' book: 

Think about it. Hackneyed plots and stereotypical characters don't work. We brush them off. Stories that stretch our minds and charaters who challenge our view of ourselves...ah, those are the ones we remember. They are the stuff of which classics are made. So start by making sure that you put yourself into your novel: your views, your hurts, your questions, your convictions, your crazy-weird take on it all. Give all that to your characters or simply give it to yourself when you write. You've kept it inside for too long. It is time to let it out and to let it make a noise.

What is the truth that you most wish the rest of us would see? That is the purpose of your novel. That is your message. I wish more manuscripts had them. A great many do not.

Having something to say or something you wish us to experience, is what gives your novel its power. Identify it. Make it loud. Do not be afraid of what's burning in your heart. When it comes through on the page, you will be a true storyteller.

When I read that, I wanted to leap for joy. I am those thoughts. I am that writer. I just have never written that story on paper. But that is what I am doing now. I can do this. I know I can because it is me. I never tried before, because I was never good at making a loud noise in front of others. If backed into a corner I'm sure I made noise, but I don't remember ever volunteering a real glimpse into my heart and soul. Maybe bits and pieces, but nothing loud enough that anyone would take notice. I keep saying over and over. I want to be noticed. I want to be someone in the world. I want to leave my mark upon it; something that says Victoria Thurman did exist here. Now is my time.

I will come back to these words when I doubt myself. This is not an untangible goal, writing a good story, because it is already inside of me. I need to just feel that freedom to let it go.

A Project Larger Than Life & Edward

Forget that fake Edward at the hotel next door to my work.  The REAL Edward stayed at the Read House in downtown Chattanooga, TN over the weekend, 4 blocks down from my work.  Of course I went to visit the set of "Water for Elephants." 

I want to know what's like a real movie set. I had happened to have the day off, so on July 30th and drove down to the location site of the house where they would be filming. I parked way back from the property but there were cars all the way up to the gate. There were quite a few people, but at the most fifty. Well, we waited. The security guard told us Rob was on his way and would be there soon.
I ran back to my car to get something and met three girls. They called out to me and asked if Rob had been by yet. I said as I walked back from my car, "No." Then they said, "Yes, he did. We were right behind him." I stopped and said, "What?" I was whispering. They didn't want anyone else to know. So they told me the whole deal. I said, "I'm gonna hang with y'all." :) So this is what they did. They followed his car all the way to the location. They drove straight past all of us, past the house to a site that was well lit across from the catering area.
So by this time we were back at the gate with all the people who were still waiting, but we walked down toward the catering tent. Then security came and told all of us we had to get in our cars and leave right now. Here came the black SUV. This time I knew Rob was in it. And, I didn't smile. I was deflated by then and it didn't occur to me that he could see me even if I couldn't see him.

Their car turned in the gate to the house and when we walked by a movie lady was trying to get us to leave. She said, "He appreciates you being here, but he has to work."

Then someone said they were filming the scene at sunrise, so they needed to get started. I thought holy cow, I don't want to ruin the movie. Sunrise doesn't last that long. I hope they got the shot. Also, by 6:50am on my way home- I saw the sun. It was round and orange, red, pink and brillant- it was an amazing sun. I really hope they captured it. They shot another scene on the railroad tracks at the TN Valley Railroad Museum. 

Even though I feel disappointed that I did not go back to watch filming.  I hope Rob has a good time in Chattanooga. The newspaper this morning reported that he loves it here in Chattanooga and thinks its awesome.

I went to find the train instead of going back to the house on Friday and got a picture.  I am going to frame it and hang it above my writing area to remind me of the power of the pen (or keyboard).  One woman wrote that story and out of her story became this movie that affected and involved so many people's lives.  It was a project larger than herself and that is what I would like to be a part of someday. 

I wrote three more pages yesterday and began some research for my latest project.  It all begins with one woman and a story.

Fixing To Write

I'm fixing to play mice with Bell so he can run off some energy and know I'm not neglecting him.  I'm fixing to then close him out of my brand new writing room.  I'm fixing to write a blog for the first time in months.  I'm fixing to ... well...I don't know.  Maybe it's too soon to start writing a blog.  Do I even have anything worth saying?

I set up a new design on my blog to give my new entries a bit a flair.  So when I start writing blogs (hopefully) this week, it will be fun to visit my site. 

I am fixing to log off and write a novel.  A short story.  A letter?  Maybe...after I answer the phone.

Thank you for coming to visit me.  I promise not to be boring the nexrt time you chose my site. :)

The Melting Pot

There's the Melting Pot and then there's the melting pot. We are waiting for pizza in the crisp cold breeze that is blowing through our open window. Brrr! Cold is hardly what was happening in the kitchen a half hour ago. The silvery orange glow of several blobs of...is that metal?...greeted me when I went back in the kitchen to check on the steamed corn on the cob. If only I had learned the first time I melted a pot, that you should never caddy corner a pot lid when steaming vegetables on Hi heat. Yes, this is the second pot I have melted. Come to my house if you are in the mood for the melting pot. I can provide it with all the smoke and whistles.

The Mouse's Cat

I grew up around cats. Cats everywhere. Cats cats cats. So many that when I moved away on my own I would think I saw shadows of cats circling me, hiding behind my furniture... mocking me. I did not take to cats the way everyone else in my family did. If one jumped on my bed while I was asleep, I would push them off. If one was in my seat I would say, "Move, cat." I never had to feed them, because I never pet them. Once, one of our cats was dying and I felt bad for her and went to pet her. She was too weak to move, or I'm sure she would have walked away. Instead she looked at me like I was the Grim Reaper, probably thinking, "Now I know I'm dying if she is coming to pet me." Me and cats were like oil and water.

I liked mice, not real mice, of course, but cute cuddly stuffed mice. I collected them and my family's nick name for me is Mouse. Mice are rather nice.

That brings us to the present. It was a dark and wintry night, and day, and another night and another day. Freezing temperatures, even snow in the South. No person or pets should have been be out in that cold cold weather and yet every night for a couple of weeks, my sister and I heard the cries of a cold, lonely cat outside our window. It wasn't my cat. It wasn't my responsibilty. The old me, the "Move, cat" me didn't really pay attention and then...the cat's persistence began to break through my cold mouse-loving exterier. Mew. Mew. Mew. I heard her cries at 11pm when I went to bed, at 2:30am when I got up for some water, again at 4:30 when I got up for the bathroom. And on into the next day. Mew.

The next night was a dark and stormy night. The world was getting soaked with rain. The world was shivering cold, too. And from my warm bed at 11:30pm that night, the cat broke through. The thought came in so real it scared me. I was getting involved with the neighbor's irresponsibility. I was going to take a stand. Kathryn went outside and brought the cat in for me and I raced her upstairs and closed my bedroom door. (We have living with us the world's loudest dog, who LOVEs to chase this poor cat.) She was soaked and muddy and freezing. I was only going to keep her one night and let her back out, but the more I learned from Kathryn about the situation of the cat-- she had been inside the neighbor's apartment all summer and then when it got cold they left her outside all the time.

Well, I kept her. I name her Bell because she had a collar with one jingle bell on it.

I will write more of my adventures with Bell in blogs to come. I have neglected my blog, because I have been trying to come home and play with Bell. My computer is not in the same room. I'm glad to be back for a moment. Hope to see you soon.

Crazy Sheila

They call her Crazy Sheila. When she was fourteen she got on a bus in Denver and rode to Provo, Utah because she had read that Donny Osmond and his family had a compound there. She was determined to find him and tell him that he got engaged to young, that he should wait for her. She found it, but he and his family were not there. She only had $13, so she had to go back to the bus station to catch a bus home. Only there was an 18 hour wait, during which time the police had been called. Her family was looking for her. They thought she had been staying at her grandmother's for Christmas. It turned out her grandmother had taken her to the bus stop to catch a bus for another town in Utah, where her aunt and uncle lived. But Crazy Sheila went in search of her idol and not her relatives. Needless to say she got in a lot of trouble for this for years to come. Today she is 46 and has never been married. She has never met Donny, but said she guesses she is still waiting for him.

I heard about Crazy Sheila on the Dom and Jane morning radio show out of Denver. She called in for the last caller of the day segment. She said she had been trying to call them since December 9th--Donny Osmond's 50th birthday, but could never get through. Each day they pick a winner for the best last call and Crazy Sheila won on that day, three days ago. It just so happened that in her prize pack was a pair of binnoculars, which could aid in her further stalking Donny.

I was so happy to know Crazy Sheila's story. A little crazier than my own. Whew.

Life's Little Surprises

This was a headline on CNN today and I almost fainted. ;) I didn't know I got the part!
"Pattinson and Thurman to Co-star in Sexy Bel-Ami".

Just Say Something Dammit!

I hate to leave my last blog up for so long, but I have no humorous little stories to add. Just trying to recoup from being sick so long. Yesterday I slept almost all day long. Today I am reading a very fun book. I just wrote an e-mail to the author and added her to the blogs I follow. Her name is Jennifer Ashley. The book is called "Confessions of a Lingerie Addict." Hardly me, but the book is so much fun! So I am off to continue my read.

"Wildflower"

In college I video-taped the Lifetime movie "Wildflower" starring Patricia Arquette, who plays 'Alice' and William McNamara who plays 'Sammy'. It is based on the novel "Alice" by Sara Flannigan. I have a copy of this novel and it is one of my very favorites. It is about an abused teenage girl who lives in a shed and has had little or no education and no friends. Two young neighbors (Sammy and Ellie) discover her and befriend her. I have watched the movie enough (I own the DVD now) to have memorized the lines and how they are said too. One of the lines I picked up and often say to myself is "Goodbye, Sammy." Alice is trying to forget Sammy, whom she loves, but whom deeply hurt her. Alice is hard of hearing so when she talks she often pronounces words as if she had a perpetual cold, so when she says Sammy, it comes across almost as Tammy. (BTW, I think Patricia Arquette did a wonderful job in this role.) She says, "Good bye, Tam-MEE!" with much finality that I started saying it for all the things I wish to never experience again.

I do not like New Year's Eve. It is too sad with all the looking back on the past year's transgressions. The new year will come whether I have a say in it or not, so I don't mind just going to bed early. However, I hate being left out of things, so I usually stay up to be a part of something the whole world is sharing in. But this year, I am just going to lie in bed and hopefully not cough all night from this horrible sinus infection I caught for the second time this month. I am going to watch movies.

And to 2009, a year that caused me pain, I say "Good bye, Tam-mee!"

I welcome in 2010 and hope to make myself better in this year, so when things I can't control take me by surprise, I will be in a better place to accept them.

Goodnight. Happy New Year!

The Hotel Next Door Comes to 401 Chestnut

Well, it has come full circle. So I was sitting in my freezing cold cozy little office minding my own business, when in walked two women from the hotel next door. They were out delivering invitations for a wine tasting on Tuesday. One of the women kept smiling at me like a goon. I kept glancing over at her thinking she looked familiar. But no, I don’t think I ever saw her before, however, her long curly hair kept haunting me until it hit me like a lightening bolt—she was the hostess who went into the kitchen and told “Edward” “Victoria says hi!” She’s the cause of my mortification over the past two months. Okay, maybe that’s not fair. I’m the cause of it, but she aided and abetted. When they left, I looked at the flyer and for 30 seconds I considered going to the soiree. But then thought, why would I pay $10 to attend a wine tasting when I don’t like the way wine tastes? And maybe “Edward” would be there, (it would be dark and they may let him out of the basement where I believe he has been hiding with all the other local vampires), but the more I think of it, uck, its just another occasion for me to embarrass myself. And I’ve also decided, its no fun anymore. The thrill is gone. I mean, I’ll still write posts if anything interesting comes up, but other than that—who needs it, right?

Lunch Next Door

I know some of you (probably Dad) are tired of hearing about “Edward” and some of you may find it the topic that brings you back to check my posts, and some of you may not care either way, but only see it as pathetic. Well, it is what it is. So today Angela and I went to graze at the buffet and scout out the help at the hotel next door. No sign of “Edward.” By dessert I decided to just throw in the towel and I asked our server if Hollywood discovered our “Edward” (only I used his real name) – did he not work there any more? She didn’t understand who I was talking about and asked which one? There was more than one?? No no, we said, the one who looks like “Edward” from “Twilight.” “Who?” she asked. Whoa…she doesn’t know?! Then it clicked and she said, “Oh you mean So and So the Assistant General Manager?” I said, “He’s a general manager?! Did he graduate college? He looks so young!” She just laughed. I felt like grabbing her shoulders and shaking her and saying, “I want answers!” But of course, I am too non-stalkerish and don’t believe in violence. So I smiled sweetly. She said, “He still works here. I saw him yesterday.” I said, “Please don’t tell anyone I asked.” She smiled, “Oh no, I won’t.” I can guarantee she did as soon as we left, though. Wouldn’t you? Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? Guess I won’t be going back for another two months. Three. Okay, maybe I’ll be back next week….it’s a really good lunch buffet.

God's Creatures, the US Mail, Hollywood: Another Monday

I know not to start re-reading one of the books from the "Twilight Saga," but I needed to re-read "New Moon" before the movie comes out. I stayed up too late last night reading. (I finished it today at lunch so unless I start"Eclipse" tonight, I should be able to get to sleep early.) So of course, when the alarm went off at 6:30am, I pushed it back another half hour. ZZZzzzz. Which only left me a half hour to get ready in, which is almost impossible with my hair. But I got up and dragged myself in the bathroom, used it, brushed my teeth, got in the shower, washed my hair-- you get the picture. I was drying off when I noticed a black blur moving slowly on the wall. (I didn't have my glasses on.) I got closer to see if I was hallucinating. OH NO I WASN'T! One of the nastiest of God's creatures ever to walk the earth was walking the edge of my mirror like it was walking the ridge pole of a roof. I started screaming and had to leave the room before I fainted, where if I had fainted in the bathroom that nasty roach would have had a chance to crawl across me and my subconcious would know this was happening and just throw me into a coma where I would remain for hundreds of years and by then would wake to an earth only inhabited by roaches, wherein I would just have to kill myself. I shudder to think. So instead I sat on my bed to freak out a bit before I went back to kill it with my shoe. By the time I got back, it had made its way to the corner of my counter and that's where I smashed it. Never do that. It was disgusting. I could only stomach cleaning up part of it. I had to finish getting ready at work, because my half hour was up. When I got home I paid my sister $10 to clean up the rest of the remains.

While at work, our mail carrier, who always rings the damn doorbell, even though we have a glass door and she can see plain as day that I am sitting right there ready to let her in if only she would turn her head just a wee bit to the right and open her eyes and wait a second, left behind two stacks of our catalog mailouts. (I was at lunch.) Its that whole opening your eyes thing that I think she has a problem with. Anyway, I had to call the US Post Office to make a complaint and get her butt back there. Only you can't call the post office down the street, oh no, they keep that phone number in a safe deposit box at the bank. I had to call the 1-800 #, where I got stuck in Automated Operator Option Land. I finally just said, "Speak to a customer representative." Wherein the automated voice said, "You said speak to a customer representative, but we need to know what you are going to ask. You can say things like, look up a zipcode, or..." I cut it off and said firmly, "Okay, look for a zipcode." "Okay, you said, look up a zipcode. What city do you need the zipcode for?" "I DON'T WANT A ZIPCODE!" "It sounded like you said Duluth, Minnesota. Is this correct?" "NOOOO! Speak to a representative!" "Hold on a moment while I get a customer service representative for you." "Thank you!!" Grrrr. So then I spoke to someone who had to patch me through to the complaints department, who acted like why am I calling them, I should be calling the post office down the street. He gave me the number. I framed it.

Just one more thing and then I need to go further clean the bathroom. (With inflation as it is these days, $10 would only get the roach off the floor.)

I think Hollywood has discovered "Edward" and whisked him away from a mundane job at the hotel next door. Two weeks (and the two different times I sneaked over to eat lunch) and no sign of Edward. Unless he saw me coming and hid in the back. But no one else has seen him either. Good luck "Edward." Break a leg! (Watch out for stalkers.)

(This just in. Our apartments have cut the water off. Again. Perfect way to end a Monday.)

NaNoWriMo Day 1 and 2

The National Month of Writing began yesterday and I celebrated by writing 1738 words toward my 50,000 word goal. I need to be writing 1667 a day to make the 50,000 mark by the end of November. Hmmm...today did not go so well. I am quickly doing the math in head to figure out if I can make it up if I skip today and Friday? I don't know. But I'll have to figure it out. I wrote 1738 words in two hours, so I should be able to catch up. I just feel bad that I came out of the gate full speed ahead and then fizzled out on the second day.

I'll keep you posted. Hey- can this count? I know, I know...but it was worth a shot. Wish me luck tomorrow. My Goal is 2500. YIKES.