I got runner-up. :)
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I'm completely exhausted. Nolan and I went to a work call at the theatre today where I painted wood to look like... wood.
Oh, scenic painting. How I've missed you.
Hope everyone's having a spectacular weekend!
Tired of feeling moody and cranky and generally recalcitrant?
Try Carrie's sure-fire "Make You Feel Better" Trifecta:
1. Pedicure/Manicure - what's not to love about pretty feet? Seriously, these are worth the cash. Skip lunch, and go have one. You will not regret it.
2. A Diet Coke (or your soda of choice) from Sonic Drive In. Crunching the ice is therapeutic. And, if it's not to weird for you, you can pretend that it's the bones of all the people that piss you off. (Oh, my. My dark side is showing. Sorry, Mother.) And if you don't have a Sonic near you, I am terribly sorry. The ice is really first rate.
3. Retail Therapy - I bought myself some nail polish, a candle, a new shower curtain and a tablecloth. Good times.
I also did a little writing with
So fandom is going well, the ficexchange story has been through beta #1 and survived, and I finished recording the FIA June Podcast (angst fest of [DOOM]) and was even able to convert it to an mp3, with the help of mynuet. Yay for people that undertand computers. *thumps harddrive* I'm listening to it now, to make sure it doesn't stink.
It's the last week of school, which means a lot of random strange stuff is going on, awards assemblies, last day parties, and the play my class wrote last year, Ambrosia, Peanut Butter, Kool-Aid and Enchiladas, a Story of the Teenaged Gods of Ancient Greece, is being performed tomorrow night, so YAY. LOVE seeing my work onstage. Love it.
Last day of Playwrighting is tonight, and as we are finished with both plays, we're meeting at a coffee shop and discussing next years prospects. Good times.
My eldest turns 7 on Friday. Gah. Am old. (But I was a child bride.)
We are *da da dummmm* going to my husband's family's reunion on Thursday evening; where the women are snarky, there's more meat than you can shake a stick at, and croquet is a bloodsport. The boys and I will be at the pool, if anyone calls. My sweet friend Jason is house sitting for us and feeding Katie Bell, who hurt her foot yesterday chasing behind the boys' go-kart. The dog does NOT know when to say when.
You shall not defeat me, dgficexchange!
I'm done. Mostly. I sent it to the miracle worker beta, but I've spent the last 8 hours in front of the computer, and I typed til the end. I'm not even sure that it makes any sense. 36 pages, 12,337 words. Gah, I hope it doesn't suck.
We'll see.
I have a question for the flist. Have I punctuated this correctly?
The flat was what he imagined people called ‘cosy,’ but what his mother would have disparaged as ‘untidy’ or ‘cluttered,’ which in Narcissa-speak was on par with ‘war zone,’ ‘ebolic,’ and ‘third world-esque.’
Do the commas go in the quotation marks or on the outside? My brain's fried and I can barely form a coherent sentence. I did finish putting the beta corrections in my contest story, but I think I need to read through it one more time before sending it off, and that, unfortunately, won't be today. I have a monster headache.
My son, aged almost seven, who has been put off several times in the past few weeks in favor typing furiously at the computer, came to me today with a question.
Ethan. How many books have you written, mommy?
Me. I'm working on my first one. I'm about halfway through.
Ethan. (pulls out stapled stacks of notebook paper from behind his back) I've written three.
*mommy's mouth drops open unbecomingly*
And so he has. They are entitled Rescue Heroes Find Their First Volcano, A Hard Day in the Jungle, and Cowboys doomed and a Gorilla (my personal favorite). And they're illustrated. In color. He rocks. I suck. I see his point, though. So this afternoon I'm taking a break from all things computer and taking my kids to the park.