Because it's Friday... and because who doesn't like to watch adorable little boys dance in their pjs?
August 1, 2008
July 31, 2008
Wow. Totally Worked.
In case you were wondering...
Kim and Aggie's tip for getting rid of fruit flies totally works! Just stuck some apple cider vinegar and a few drops of detergent in a mug, piece of plastic with holes strapped over the top and voila! Five dead flies. Endless joy. Endless shot of me clutching mug between my hands of death, laughing maniacally over the insect massacre in my kitchen.
Sigh. It's been a long day.
In other horrifying insect news, I was falling asleep on the couch last night (only cool room in the apartment- don't judge me) when I noticed a GIANT furry insect-centipede type thing crawling into the linen closet. Suffice it to say I watched that closet for a good hour waiting for it to appear and try to eat my brain. Haven't seen it since. Now doubting my sanity. Are there any cases of bugs gaslighting a person?
July 30, 2008
Old Wounds
Bodies are so strange. I mean, really. I now live in a third-floor walk-up and between moving and the regular comings-and-goings of everyday life, I must've been up and down those stairs at least 100 times in the last three weeks.
And was there even a twinge in my left knee? The left knee that got slightly banged up after yours truly was hit by a car four years ago and flopped into the middle of Beverly Blvd. like a grounded flounder? Nope, nothing.
And so now you can imagine my irritation that it's now KILLING me and I have done nothing to aggravate it whatsoever.
It must be about to rain or something. I mean, really. Stairs- nothing. Humidity- I crumble. What sense does that make? I can run in the Olympics but I'm also relegated to turning into Karen from Mean Girls, able to tell whether or not it's going to rain by my boobs.
Erm, in case you were wondering- there's an 80% chance it's already raining.
And was there even a twinge in my left knee? The left knee that got slightly banged up after yours truly was hit by a car four years ago and flopped into the middle of Beverly Blvd. like a grounded flounder? Nope, nothing.
And so now you can imagine my irritation that it's now KILLING me and I have done nothing to aggravate it whatsoever.
It must be about to rain or something. I mean, really. Stairs- nothing. Humidity- I crumble. What sense does that make? I can run in the Olympics but I'm also relegated to turning into Karen from Mean Girls, able to tell whether or not it's going to rain by my boobs.
Erm, in case you were wondering- there's an 80% chance it's already raining.
July 29, 2008
Book Report
I haven't touched my book since May.
It's really a shame too, considering how hard I was working on it until May. But then Dad's video project and the two month hole that became moving just made it impossible to continue the 11 hour-a-day-working and writing pace.
But now...finally, things have settled down. I have one more solid weekend of apartment activities (assembling bookshelves and hanging up pictures) and the place is done. Aside from the parade of fix-it men (cable box busted after a week. Thanks a lot, Comcast), my mornings belong to me again.
The only distressing part now is that what I usually deem as a blessing when it comes to writing- my incredibly short memory (meaning I can reread something I've written with absolutely no recollection of writing it. It makes editing way more effective. It means I can read what I've written as if it were written by someone else. Is that normal?) is a curse at the moment. At this point, I have little choice but to start at the beginning and read the whole thing, editing as I go. While I'm excited about that, I'm worried about how long this will take. I want this book done NOW.
Writing is so strange. I need it and yet it requires so much, sometimes more than I think I'm capable of giving. If you're ever wondering why I love my header photo so much, there's the reason.
It's really a shame too, considering how hard I was working on it until May. But then Dad's video project and the two month hole that became moving just made it impossible to continue the 11 hour-a-day-working and writing pace.
But now...finally, things have settled down. I have one more solid weekend of apartment activities (assembling bookshelves and hanging up pictures) and the place is done. Aside from the parade of fix-it men (cable box busted after a week. Thanks a lot, Comcast), my mornings belong to me again.
The only distressing part now is that what I usually deem as a blessing when it comes to writing- my incredibly short memory (meaning I can reread something I've written with absolutely no recollection of writing it. It makes editing way more effective. It means I can read what I've written as if it were written by someone else. Is that normal?) is a curse at the moment. At this point, I have little choice but to start at the beginning and read the whole thing, editing as I go. While I'm excited about that, I'm worried about how long this will take. I want this book done NOW.
Writing is so strange. I need it and yet it requires so much, sometimes more than I think I'm capable of giving. If you're ever wondering why I love my header photo so much, there's the reason.
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