...not to have resolutions this year, only solutions.

Of course, that makes it sound like there's only one right answer out there for whatever is bothering me or needs fixin'. But that's not the case.

Goals, old and new
As part of my new year festivities, I decided to take a look back at the goals I've set for myself over the years and evaluated the success I've achieved. Overall, I did well. Things got crossed off, tossed, improved and, sadly, completely abandoned after I decided I'd completed it.

And for some stuff, that's okay. For other goals, however, you need to pay some attention to them or they won't survive, or grow into something biggah and bettah.

Too many plates, not enough cutlery
Although you can probably tell from my utter lack of blog posts, I must admit that the latter half of 2011 had me spinning too many plates at once. Personally and professionally. Yes, I'd taken care to not sign up for too much, or agree to do things I had no interest in doing, but life, like a cat, isn't always content sleeping in a sunbeam. Sometimes stuff happens that we have to find a way to work around.

Time is another four letter word
And the huge workaround for me is time management (says the woman writing this post at an ungodly hour on New Year's Day). My ability to do five million things at the speed of light has abandoned me, along with the unfortunate hair colour choices I made back in the '80s. And that's OK. There are plenty of other people out there who can take on that challenge, whether they're armed with a case of Red Bull or not.

What I can do, however, is take a good look at my schedule and ensure that I get some time in for things that I truly enjoy. Good times with family, friends and the kitten of mass destruction. Reading. Really bad TV. And maybe, just maybe, that endorphin rush I used to get while doing that dreaded thing called exercise.

Le sigh.

Why the sudden navel gazing and sense of dissatisfaction? 'Tis the season. ;)

A new reality
A new year, to a lot of people, means a new start. For me, I'd like to look at it as a new reality.

Maybe relying on a Magic 8 ball to make my decisions isn't the best way to approach things. Go figure.

So my plan is to land here once in a while to share ideas and make note of my progress. Where this will all lead, who knows, but I hope to have fun along the way. And I hope you will too.

May 2012 be a blast for us all!

Labels: adventures, blahs, goals, ideas

Seriously. I was explaining the plot of Source Code to my husband this evening and, next thing I know, I'm sobbing.

Yeah, it's supposed to be an action movie, right? Kind of, but not so much. I'll leave you to discover that on your own.

Seeing the movie isn't what's making me feel like an April Fool. It's all the times I've consulted the Mystical Smoking Head of Bob regarding things completely out of my control -- kind of like when Jake Gyllenhaal asks questions of the big man in charge of the Source Code. Because what's out of our control is out of our control. Stamp saved. No erasies.

So all I can do is focus on the things I have control over. Like what to pick up at the grocery store. What to watch on TV. (Anyone else check out Mobbed?) What to work on when I'm at the computer (My novel? My taxes? Online games?).

It's all about choices. And yeah, I've made some foolish choices, like staying up waaaay too late to play at freerice.com or doing surveys in the hopes of winning fabulous prizes. Le sigh.

Procrastination is a skill I have mastered, so I really don't need practice there. ;)

What I can practice, however, is taking it easy. You know, do the Doris Day thing. Que sera sera and all that stuff. And while Doris is singing in the background distracting my inner critic, I can get some words on the page.

How about you? What have you been an April Fool over?

Labels: adventures, blahs, writing

The past few days I've been doing a lot of catching up. With friends. With books. With movies.

Some call it filling the well. I can see why. It's hard to come up with new ideas or feel motivated or have the courage to put words on the page when the well is dry. Especially the inkwell.

Yes, I have a fantabulous new novel I'm working on. Yes, I even have what could be called an outline, if you want to get all technical about it. Still, I need more than the voices in my head to make me feel prepared enough to sit at the computer and get the words out.

Sometimes they don't want to play. And that usually means they're not cooked yet.

Raw words aren't as tasty as the well done ones. ;)

So what's a person with an empty well to do?

1. Read. Even when the books you're reading are so much better than anything you could ever dream to write. Even when you try to study the words to see what you can learn from them and instead you find yourself on the floor in a fetal position.

2. Watch movies. I've watched three in the past four days: I Am Number Four, Easy A and The King's Speech. Yes, a wild mix. All good (or excellent) for their own reasons, such as use of hairography in action scenes; clever dialogue; and showing goal, motivation and conflict so well that it makes me weep just thinking about it.

3. Hang out with friends. Laughter is essential to a healthy lifestyle, even more so than chocolate. Being able to compare notes on our lives, our loves and the whole "is this where we should be at in our master plan" discussion helps open up the world for me. People have hobbies besides reading and seeing movies? Who knew?

But filling the well shouldn't be a once-in-a-while occurrence. For it to be really effective, we should practise it often. Like on days that end with "day".

How 'bout you? How do you fill the well?

Labels: blahs, ideas, writing

She's the one who said, "Elegance is refusal."

Of course, Coco was talking about resisting the urge to take on the style of a magpie and grab at everything and try to wear it all at once. Or at least a feather boa with a pillbox hat and platform shoes.

Not that that wouldn't work for someone. On a reality show.

As part of my newfound "I have no resolutions, only solutions" way of doing things, I've been decluttering the chaos known as Casa Staring one drawer or shelf at a time. Yes, the process will probably take me until 2012 to complete, but then I can start all over again. ;)

What have I discovered so far? I have a lot of the same things. Books. White socks. Notepads. Packets of cutlery from take-out places. All useful but hardly interchangeable.

And that's when I start hearing Peter Walsh in my head. Accent and all.

I blame Oprah.

You see, I first met Peter when he was on Clean Sweep, a cute little program on TLC where a team of experts (a designer, a hunky carpenter and Peter) would clear out the crap in two rooms of a family's home and then make the rooms look nice and... spacious. They'd sell all the unwanted stuff in a big yard sale and everyone would be happy.

But then Peter started delving into the psyche of clutterers. And, in each show, he'd chip away at all those reasons we all hang on to the stuff.

He's written books about it. I've got them. Somewhere. I even went to one of his book signings, told him about my aunt who had an extension put on her house to store all her stuff and then got all tongue-tied when it came time to talk about me.

My aunt got the nice personalized note in her copy of the book. I got something more generic. I'll get over it one day.

Then time passed. The need to weed the junk waned with every episode of Hoarders I watched. I mean, come on, those people have issues with clutter. Compared to them, my home was tidy. Almost barren.

Then I started watching the Oprah Winfrey Network previews.

Wouldn't you know it? Peter Walsh has a show on OWN. It's called Enough Already.

Next thing you know, I start looking at all the stuff gathered in the corners and drawers, taking up physical and mental space.

Yes, the cat is nervous. The DH is too, but that's only when my gaze lingers on the concert programs and airplane model kits. ;)

Not that I think clearing out one drawer at a time will turn me into Coco Chanel or anything, but it's a start. At least I'd be able to find the boas, hats and shoes without all the plastic cutlery in the way.

How about you? How do you conquer clutter?

Labels: blahs, ideas

No, this is not about a certain retail chain changing locations. ;)

The more I learn about publishing, the more I realize that the easiest part of the publishing process is the novel writing itself.

Everything else is a moving target. Genres heat up, genres cool down. Some publishers are fine with your name, others have a pen name in mind for you already. Agents retire, new agents start out. One day everyone is selling novel series, the other day stand-alone sales are it. Contracts are iron-clad, contracts are revised. And let's not get started on the covers. Le sigh.

So what's a writer to do? Write.

Sure, that's easy for me to say, especially when getting words on a page can feel like trying to tweeze my eyebrows with a plunger at the best of times.

For all I know, novels about narcoleptic accordion players could be totally out by the time I'm shopping my manuscript around. But then I can just change him into a guitarist. Without the beret.

How about you? How do you keep tabs on what's in, what's out and what to write?

Labels: blahs, ideas, writing

I had such awesome plans for today's post. This would be my chance to wax poetic about the scent of fall, the cool breezes tugging at my shirt collar and all that fall crispiness. But with the heat and humidity making everything, including the Kitten of Mass Destruction, all lethargic and blah, I thought I'd save that for a more fall-like day.

August was a blur with family gatherings, a visit to the parent's cottage and a lovely wedding in Ottawa. The weather was perfect, the couple were tipsy during the speeches and there was a pool on site at the reception. Very cool. If only I left the chiffon at home. ;)

But the real reason I'm writing today (and coming out of hiding) is because I discovered something while I took a wee break from novel writing: I missed doing it.

Not right away, of course. Right before the separation, I considered never coming back. Why? Lots of reasons: writing a novel is hard, getting published is even harder, staying published drives people to drink and then... Amazon reviews.

Yeah, I'd let all the darkness get to me. It wore me down so much that parts of me were shiny. And no, I don't have pictures.

After a while, I imagined not writing. Snap! Suddenly I'd have all that time I spent staring at the computer, attending workshops, reading books on the craft of writing, going to my RWA chapter meetings, taking part in fun brainstorming sessions... wow, it would have been like when I quit smoking: I'd have an extra three or four hours a day.

So I gave myself the month of July to think about it. And July turned into August.

And then the first YA manuscript started poking at me in the dark, whispering about how I could make it better. Then the second YA manuscript threw a hissy fit and told me she needed a simpler storyline so the hawt hero could spend more time with her.

Le sigh. It's hard to sit on a dock at the cottage and enjoy the scenery when you've got two teenaged girls cat-fighting in your head. So I promised them I'd think about it if they'd shut up already.

But I lied to them. I was enjoying my non-novel-writing life. Heck, I even read a few books without pulling them apart or looking at character arcs and motivation...

That's when a scene popped into my head. And another. And another after that.

Problem was, these were scenes from both of the novels--and the third one I hadn't thought about in months. Suddenly, out in the middle of nowhere, all I needed was a good pen and some paper. I cursed myself for not loading the manuscripts onto my 400-pound laptop, but at least I could either write longhand or just tap away without worrying about missing anything during the rainy days.

So even though I'm back to writing, I'm really back to rewriting. And that's okay. The time apart on both manuscripts gave me some needed perspective on which darlings can stay and which ones I'll have to kill.

When do I expect to have the revisions done? No idea. Let's just see how September goes with getting some words on the page every day.

How about you? Has stepping away from a project ever helped you?

Labels: blahs, ideas, writing

June swept in, grabbed hold of the nachos and disappeared around the corner. Whew! Now July has settled in around the inflatable pool and I'm running low on paper umbrellas.

Not that I have much to celebrate for this goal check, my friends.

Let's see where things are at:

1. Go for it
STATUS: Needs more work.
An object at rest, stays at rest. That's all I can say about this. Time to find my chutzpah, crack the whip and every other cliche out there to get back on the bandwagon. I will give myself points for running off to San Fran for a wild girls' getaway in early June. That's something I would have talked myself out of last year.

2. Finish what you start
STATUS: Do you smell something burning?
Ugh. The project that should be done is not. It requires a rewrite of epic proportions and I need to step away from it for a while. Right now we're not on the most friendly of terms. Yes, words have been exchanged and my heroine might be threatening to sue, but this too shall pass. Like a kidney stone.

3. Think before taking on new things
STATUS: It's working!
This is one area where I've experienced success. Yes, I've taken on some new things, but for reasons that work for me, my family and my schedule. The other stuff, someone else can do.

4. Pay it forward
STATUS: Ongoing
This one is challenging some days, easy breezy on others. It could be that when I'm working from home I tend to be completely unaware of anything or anyone except the kitten of mass destruction. But I'm making progress. Or at least I think so.

5. Clear out the clutter
STATUS: Ongoing
It amazing how stuff can pile up when I'm not looking. Thankfully, I haven't taken on a whole bunch of new things so I've had time to root around the physical and emotional stuff and toss some things out -- or drag them out onto the driveway so DH can run over them. No animals have been hurt in the decluttering process. All of Zaphod's toys, including the twig and bottle cap, are still present and accounted for.

So, am I satisfied with my progress. No, but that's okay. Some progress is better than none, and there's still six months left, right?

How about you? How are your goals for 2010 shaping up?

Labels: blahs, goals, ideas

The subway broke for some reason today. Only for a little while though, and long enough for the fuzzy unintelligible updates to stain my Madonna listening experience.

"Gonna dress you up in--"
"Attention all subway passengers, we are munamuna blah blah St. George Station waffle waffle munamuna. Shuttle bus whawhawha platform blah blah."
"From your head down to your--"
"The delay we hodgepodge oogle blah blah munamuna shortly. Thank you."

Yeah, I lost my groove by the fourth subway stop. Le sigh. At least the problem resolved itself while Madonna went through five more tracks. Shoo-be-do-be-do...

Then a woman yelled at me because I stopped at the curb. She actually tried to push me forward, but then held off when the car I'd seen approaching sped around the corner.

Her words: "Oh."
My words: "Next time someone isn't moving fast enough for you, go around them instead of pushing them into traffic."

And I hadn't even gotten to the office yet. Someone had colored my day in with a thick black crayon. They didn't even try and cover up the bits that went outside the lines and dipped into all my happy spots.

An innocent colleague sent me .docx files all day. I'm on a Mac for this particular gig. Le sigh.

Feedback on an article made it look like my words were bleeding. Gotta love track changes. ;)

But then, I thought about how I lucky I am to have a happy home, a happy husband and a kitten of mass destruction who has been known to be happy on some occasions.

Leaving the stress of the subway, the near-accident, and the evils of my workload behind me, I raced up the front porch to burst through the front door and greet my happy family...

And stepped in cat poop.

Apparently this was not a good day for kittens either.

Labels: adventures, blahs, kitten

I love it when I can make a connection while killing things.

DH and I finally caved and plucked out all the pesky dandelions, raked up the five gazillion maple keys, and ran the mower over what remained of the grass. The kitten was quite impressed, as his favourite cement patch was still where he left it despite all the noise and fuss the humans made.

And all that yanking and pulling got me thinking.

First, that I was out of shape again. But we know that already, so I'll move on.

Then there are those who actually cultivate dandelions to make wine or eat the leaves in fancy chichi salads. They even brag about how organic they are, using natural ingredients from within that oh-so-righteous 100-mile radius.

I could get all the dandelions I want in a ten-yard radius. Huh.

And that made me feel like maybe I shouldn't have been so hasty with my destruction of the dandelions. Maybe I should have rented out my yards for organic dandelion farming. Zaphod the kitten could be the Chief Inspector.

Actually, he already has that title. You should see his business cards.

Then I thought about the things I do that act like weeds on my productivity: watching retro '80s videos on YouTube, cute kitten pics and vids, reality TV, chocolate, pondering my existence, writing things I've already done onto my to-do list so I can cross them off, etc., etc.

All these thoughts about weeding these things from my garden of to-dos takes all the fun out of everything. It turns me into Little Miss Crankipants. Or Little Miss Big Crankipants since I haven't been working out. ;)

But maybe, just maybe, everyone needs some weeds in amongst the plants. You know, just to keep things interesting and give us something to do when we don't feel like being perfect.

Is this starting to sound like an ad for medicinal marijuana? LOL Yep, there goes Bonnie, promoting de herb again...

All I know is I need to feed my mental garden with the good, the bad and the ugly or else I get bored.

How about you? Do you need "weeds"?

Labels: blahs, ideas, kitten

There is something to be said about doing something on a consistent basis. Whether it's working out, writing a novel, or eating Golden Oreos, somehow it gets easier do to, day after day.

But heaven help you if you do things the exact same way all the time. That's when things get, well, really dull. And that sense of sameness settles in like a dull ache behind your left kidney.

Perhaps that's why I never took up music; just the thought of doing scales over and over again made me rush to a blank canvas or notebook to sketch, write or send secret love notes to the boys who never knew I existed. Probably because I always signed those notes with "your secret admirer."

So instead of checking out more websites, classes and info on writing a novel (which I tend to do in times of stress), I took a breather and read some books. One I didn't get through; another in which the lead character bugged me so much I wanted to stop reading, but I couldn't put it down because the story was so darn good; and another that made me feel like I was 16 again.

I'd forgotten how much fun it is to read a book for the love of reading instead of studying it as a lesson to be learned. This is something I'll have to do more often.

And while I've been good about getting words on the page every day for my current WIP, I reached a point where I needed to take a step back and give it the stink eye. Some parts were, I hate to say it, skimmable. Trouble is, if the writer feels like skimming over a paragraph or two, how dare I expect a reader to be captivated?

Yeah, I went to the ugly place again. And picked up some postcards and a banana-shaped harmonica. Because everyone needs a harmonica once they've been to the ugly place.

But sometimes we all need to go to the ugly place -- especially after eating all those Golden Oreos. It's what helps us realize that things can be done in a different way (one cookie a day instead of an entire bag) or approached from a different angle (writing longhand instead of on the computer) to make the journey more interesting.

That's my two cents.

Labels: blahs, goals, writing

Looks like the puddle I stepped in led to another dimension. One filled with snack foods and reality TV. ;)

The holidays are mere moments away, I have too much work on my plate (yeah, me!) and my current WIP is making me go there. You know, to a place where people suddenly don't crack jokes and burst into song.

Well, it's tempting, but the characters won't let me.

And there I was, back about the same time last year, thinking about how hard it is to get the words on the page without cracking a joke or bursting into song. Or Johnny Depp. Here's my blog post about it:

http://bonniestaring.blogspot.com/2008/11/bonnies-excuse-of-week_21.html

And you know something? It's hard to write anything as long as you think it's hard.

Yeah, I'm rolling my eyes, too. But it's true.

It's a lot harder to write when you think about writing instead of actually doing it. Yes, sometimes you need to let the ideas simmer and wait for the great shashoombas, but if you don't show up (by getting your butt in the chair), how will the muse know when to arrive?

Okay, must get back at it before the bad guy finds the karaoke machine...

Labels: blahs, ideas, writing

I don't know about you, but I'm trying hard to remember where 2009 went. Just the other day it seemed so bright and shiny in front of me, like a new Diet Coke can. Le sigh.

And those goals of mine are now covered with dust. Okay, some of them aren't, but a few are looking a bit on the rusty side. I blame all the rain we've been having.

Of course, I have a choice to make. I can beat myself up for the next month for not making the absolute most of every single moment I had or I can enjoy the ride and celebrate the small victories. You know, like finding the missing socks or discovering how to upload files onto my iPod shuffle.

Hey, technically adept, I'm not.

There have been a number of sitchiashuns (say it with a New York accent for full effect) that have made me feel a wee bit cranky. Hotmail server issues. People offering suggestions months after the request for ideas and the plans set in motion. Public transit fare hikes. Ugh, it's just Cranky Pants Central over here!

Shoot, I promised myself I'd stick to being positive and not portray a fine Canadian whine. ;)

I think it's best if I let Heather Small do the talking for me:

Labels: blahs, goals, ideas

My girlfriend and I headed out to see The Blind Side the other day. Trouble was, I misread the playing time and we got there about three hours too early.

We stared at the list of other films and spotted This Is It. Turns out neither one of us had seen it yet, and we were there just in time to catch it like a good beat.

And yeah, I got a little sad. Especially when you saw the footage of the dancers who made it into the show. To be part of the Michael Jackson tour was huge. No, bigger than huge. Their careers were totally made, if they weren't made already. Too bad the tour never made it past rehearsals.

But this post isn't about them, it's about MJ.

Even in rehearsals, he knew what he wanted. He brought it and expected everyone involved with the show to bring it. Over and over and over again.

At one point, MJ was discussing with the band on how one number should be played. He said, "This is how the audience expects to hear it." And that really resonated with me.

Why? Because he got it, brought it and made sure everyone around him lived it. This tour was his thank-you to the fans who supported him.

And sometimes, well, a lot of the time, I find myself saying "this is **it" instead of "this is it." Sure, it's part of the process, but am I doing myself any favours putting my work down?

Probably not. I think there are enough naysayers and critical types out there to tell me how hard it is to succeed and how difficult things will become when I get published.

All I can do right now is sing, er, write my heart out. And maybe put on sparkly socks...

Labels: blahs, ideas, writing

There's a lot of stuff happening. Too much, actually. And I've been trying my darndest to keep up, I really have, but what I have left with at the end of the day is "I guess I'll work on the novel tomorrow."

And you know what? That really sucks.

Trouble is, it's no one's fault but my own. I could have adjusted my schedule to get some quality writing time in. Surely I didn't need to see those CSI reruns, did I? Surely I didn't have to spend that hour or so playing online games?

But I did. And I know exactly why: I'm preparing for Draft Two -- the big honkin' revision round.

This is the round where some characters die or develop a new personality. Where plot points get polished or eliminated. Where foreshadowing and perhaps a description or two see the light of day.

Yeah, and I thought Draft One was bad. Huh, that part seems easy now.

So instead of staring at the Word doc until my forehead bleeds, I'm doing anything else. Like raking leaves, reading junk mail and watching a little trash TV. It's not like I meant to put off the writing, it just kind of happened.

Oddly enough, it appears that most books sold today didn't just happen -- they had authors who actually COMPLETED them. Le sigh.

That's my cue to get my butt in the chair again and get those words happening. Hopefully in a way that works for me, an agent, an editor and a whole bunch of readers.

But I'm still going to watch The Biggest Loser. That's a must-do. ;)

Labels: blahs, goals, writing

Okay, I have to admit that I really wasn't looking forward to today. For the past two weeks I've been working on site for a client (meaning no naps or pajama-wearing during business hours) and doing a lot of freelance projects evenings and weekends. And some beta-reading and contest-entry judging. Mucho biz-ay.

So part of me was sorely tempted to not attend my RWA chapter's meeting today. I mean, I could have slept in, caught up my coupon clipping and had some quality time with DH and the evil kitten. But I had to go; it felt like I hadn't been there in ages.

And I'm so glad I went. C.J. Lyons did a great workshop on getting to the bones of your story and mapping out the pivotal points to bring up the emotional volume of a novel. Okay, I'm totally paraphrasing, but it made some things really click for me.

Of course, I also jumped at the opportunity to be a guinea pig and got the entire room to help me get a basic plot for my next WIP done. Thanks everyone! Now I just have to hold off on that one until I get the current WIP complete. Ah, the lure of a shiny new idea is too tempting...

It was also great to see other crazy people, er, I mean writers. People who get how frustrating things can be, people who understand how writing can be awesome and the exact opposite at the exact same time. I felt refreshed, encouraged and, perhaps after taking a wee nap, ready to tackle the next batch of pages on the current novel.

And I couldn't have gotten that from staying at home with the coupons. ;)

Labels: blahs, fun, ideas, RWA, writing

It's been a rough week over here at Casa Staring.

First, I went away on a wee trip to NYC with my mom for educational purposes (we studied shopping, bargain-hunting and how to ride the subway without ending up in Jersey). Then, while I was away, DH took Zaphod, the kitten of mass destruction, to the VET.

And he had to get a shot.

So, I returned home to find a twitching, hiding cat instead of our usual escape artist. He spent the entire weekend under the bed, stepping out from the darkness only to eat or use the litter box.

I felt so freaking guilty. I tried lying on the floor and talking to him.

He hissed.

I tried playing him the Fame soundtrack.

He growled.

Then, taking DH's advice, I ignored him.

It took four days for the ice around his feline heart to thaw. Of course, he's still giving me the stink eye when he thinks I'm not looking. But at least he's talking again. Really, really loud.

Of course, my becoming a crazy cat lady isn't really a significant event. Not when we've got H1N1 vaccine issues, politicians dancing and leftover Halloween candy everywhere. Le sigh.

And it's times like this, when the nights get dark in about twenty seconds, that I realize I live in a city where winter involves freezing temperatures and that other four-letter word, snow.

I wonder how Zaphod feels about wintering in Bermuda... I know DH is into it. ;)

Labels: adventures, blahs, kitten

Normally I don't do book reviews on this blog, simply because there are enough book-reviewing sites out there. And I'm lazy. ;)

But after being nagged incessantly to finally read Breaking Dawn, the last book in the Twilight series, I felt I had to say something. Like "I want those hours I spent reading back."

Okay, it wasn't that bad. I guess, after getting to know Edward, Jacob and the extremely annoying Bella, my expectations had been raised. Perhaps a little too high.

If you haven't read this 760-page epic yet and plan to, stop reading here. If you've read it already or simply plan on waiting for the movie, keep going.

Here's my review, told from Bella's point of view.

"Oh, how I long to become a vampire, even though I really haven't planned it out. Oh Edward! Huh, I don't feel so good... Aha! Let me make a decision that puts everyone in jeopardy, Yeah, that's it. Sure, people may die, including myself, but I did that in all the other books, so why not this one?

"What? I didn't die? It all worked out? How fabulous! But wait, there's more -- all those concerns I had about my beauty, my charm, my clumsiness? Gone! Not only am I absolutely perfect, I have set new standards in adjusting to my vampirism. Le sigh. Oh, life is perfect, even with the smelly werewolves lingering around.

"Oh dear. That "everyone in danger" thing? Looks like that's still the case. But, wouldn't you know, I have an ability that will allow me to save everyone! I know, wild 'eh? Thank goodness I ignored everyone's advice and did my own thing anyway, even though it put all at risk."

The End.

Yes, I realize I'm being cranky. One day I'm sure that some readers out there will have something similar to say about any of my novels. And it may hurt a little. But I think Ms. Meyer can deal. ;)

Labels: blahs, writing

Don't you just love it when you try to catch up with someone and they don't want to talk about anything?

Usually this isn't much of a problem for me, since I can always make up for the lack of convo with my tales of contest wins, coupon finds and other buzz marketing-related activities.

Here's how the conversation went:

MOI: "Hey there! Long time no see. How are things going?"

DWT: "Okay, I guess."

MOI: "Glad to hear you're feeling better after that medical thing."

DWT: "I don't wanna talk about it."

MOI: "Oh, okay. How's work going?"

DWT: "Don't ask."

MOI: "Oh. Hey, someone brought pork rinds."

I stop to enjoy some nibbles and notice that DWT is now scanning the room, looking for someone else to not talk to.

MOI: "So, any big plans for the fall?"

DWT: "No."

MOI: "How about next year?"

DWT just shrugs, clearly feeling saying the words out loud is too much trouble.

MOI: "Wow, look at the time! 6:35 already? I better call in to check on the cat, he's at that needy stage right now..."

As you can see, I wasn't my normal "fill in the blanks" self. In this case, I felt kind of stumped. Actually, more like closed off.

Perhaps that wasn't this uncommunicative individual's intent, but when it happens a lot, like, say, all the time, it makes me feel like, just maybe, this person really doesn't want to talk about "it" -- or anything else -- with me.

There are some things some people don't want to talk about (politics, religion and pork rinds), but it's kind of hard if the person you're conversting with doesn't indicate a single topic which can be discussed. As a windbag, I should see this as an opportunity to take centre stage and run my mouth off, but, thanks to comedy school, I've learned how to read an audience.

And right now I'm thinking this particular audience would rather be anywhere else. ;)

That's cool. I'll just know where to hang out at the next gathering -- the other end of the room. Unless, of course, I don't feel like talking, too.

Labels: adventures, blahs, fun

Summer finally arrived in Toronto -- and I must say that the soaring temperatures provided an awesome learning opportunity for me.

1. Heat rises
Zaphod, the kitten of mass destruction, has spent the past week on the basement freezer, chillaxing. It took us an hour to find him the first day, and when we did we ended up sitting there with him because it felt so nice.

2. Business attire is whack
I had to work on site during some of these hazy days, and I melted on the way there and back. Why do businesses insist on people wearing clothes when it's so darn hot. Then again, that's probably best for everyone...

3. Getting emotional takes too much energy
Seriously, I don't know how people who have tempers who live near the equator survive. Just the thought of getting angry makes me sweat. But if someone were to drink all the Diet Coke or eat all the ice cream...

4. You're never too old for the kiddie pool
Lukas (my five-year-old next-door neighbour) invited me to splash around in his whale-shaped blow-up pool -- and if I wasn't on a deadline, I totally would have taken him up on it. Even if that meant being seen in public in my bathing suit.

And, last but not least...

5. Summer has its own schedule
This is a both good and bad. Flexibility is something I cherish, but the Cancerian in me lives for timelines and checking things off the to-do list. So when holiday schedules and pool parties get in the way, sometimes I get a little twitchy. Okay, a lot twitchy. But I'm learning to deal, with the help of the chilling kitten.

What has this heatwave taught you? Anything cool? ;)

Labels: adventures, blahs, fun

I'm still kind of in shock. I mean, I never really planned on joining Facebook. There were all those reasons I had:

1. It scared me.
2. I was afraid that only strange men who wanted to trade me for camels would be the only ones to invite me to be their friend.
3. It would take over my life, so much so that I wouldn't have time to exercise on a regular basis.

and finally,

4. It really scared me.

While there were all perfectly good reasons, something kept on bugging me. Okay, more like someones -- mainly my pals Michelle, Joanne and Laura. They'd pledged Facebook allegiance eons ago and, every once in a while, would tease me about how all the cool kids were members.

Then they all said it was fun. And helped them lead fulfilling lives.

So, in a moment of weakness, I joined. And it's true: it is fun!

Okay, perhaps it's really Crackbook, not Facebook, as my pal Andrea called it on "my wall," but I've been assured by everyone that the urge to update my status and look up friends every ten seconds will eventually subside. Which is a good thing, since I have to get a bunch of work done over the next few weeks. ;)

I've connected with people I haven't spoken to in years -- and it's as scary and exciting as I thought it would be. Then I have to remind myself to take it slow and not expect everyone to expect me to hold a big par-tay with chocolate fountains and cabana boys.

Even though that really sounds appealing right now.

A sad farewell
And yes, it saddened me to watch coverage of Michael Jackson's funeral today. Poor Paris; my heart went out to that girl. I hope that the media will leave her and the rest of her family alone while they grieve.

I still remember when my mom bought Thriller to use as her exercising soundtrack. This may have something to do with my fear of zombies.

Rest in peace, Michael, and thanks for the great tunes.

Labels: adventures, blahs, ideas