Go me! Stop, sky!

FINALLY my revisions are finished, my new synopsis is in good shape, and I'm ready to take the whole thing to the post office. Or UPS. Or FedEx, given the difficulty Crash Test had arriving in Florida with the post office and UPS (complete messy story here and here). That is, I'm off if it will STOP. RAINING!!!

Today's Orlando Sentinel says that this is the second-rainiest June ever in our corner of the "Sunshine State." Normal rainfall between 7-8 inches for the month. This year, we're at 17 inches+ and rising. And yep, it's raining already this morning. Too bad, because

TODAY IS DD'S 6th BIRTHDAY!!

Hard to believe my youngest is six. She was patting my tummy last night and saying something about a new baby. Had to laugh at that one. DH has been to the vet. ;-)

Off to do some voodoo or something. Baby girl deserves some sunshine on her big day.

Gadflies 'R' Us

I've done it now.

I got fed up and spouted off to our local paper about the state of affairs at my high school, and they printed the column. Now that I'm out on my limb--I took a shot at our high school's community members, who are passionately interested in athletics and extracurriculars, but not so much so about academics--I'm waiting for the saws to come out.

To my surprise, so far the response has been very positive. I'm sure I've pissed someone off (I have a talent for doing that), but if I can knock some of the complacent out of their La-Z-Boys and get them to wake the hell up and pay attention to what their kids are doing at school, then it'll be worth it.

Let's just hope that limb I'm on is nice and thick.

Suzy Homemaker

One thing about summer for teachers--our normal routine gets completely shelled. When we're not in school, my sleep cycle goes haywire, I wander aimlessly through my messy house (Clean up? Please!), I waste way too much time checking email. Extroverts trapped at home with small children are not a pretty sight. There's no way I could be a stay-at-home mom. I'd be on the six o'clock news for sure. Our neighbor across the street stays at home with her three kids, all under the age of five. I admire the hell out of her--I couldn't do what she does.

Frankly, I think I'm a better mom when I'm working. I may have more time to do housecleaning during the summer, but I'm more patient and more fun with my kids when school's in session. Strange, huh? Takes all kinds.

Now that I've sufficiently guilted myself into doing something, I guess I'd better fold laundry before the pile of clean clothes blocks out the sun.

The Bed List/The Dinner List

Today's picks are innovators, pure and simple.

BED LIST: DAVE GROHL



Normally, the rock 'n roll look doesn't do much for me (although I'd make an exception for Jon Bon Jovi--but that's a pick for another day). In Dave Grohl's case, though, I'm happy to throw that pickiness out the window. This man is brilliant. I never cared for Nirvana, but I own all of the Foo Fighters' CDs. Dave can do it all--and on the first Foo CD, he did; he played drums, guitar, bass, and sang all the vocals. After that CD sold a healthy number of copies, he found a band to support it. I've been wearing out my new copy of In Your Honor in the car, on the computer, on DH's iPod... Plus, he's hot. Beard, clean-shaven, soul patch, don't care. I'll take him.

DINNER LIST: STEVE JOBS



Steve Jobs tilts against windmills. How would you like to wake up every morning and go mano a mano against the Evil Empire? Steve, though, loves a challenge. Apple Computer may be small, but it is mighty. Best design in the business? Check. Strongest operating system? Check. Cool factor? Check and double check. Hell, if you can get U2 to certify a special edition iPod, you've got it (whatever it is). When I sell a book, I am going to make Steve Jobs' stock price go up.

Sickies

First day of summer arrived yesterday, and as per normal, someone in my house is sick. This time, DD succumbs. She has a fever, which we attribute to too much time in the pool and too little water to drink. Last night, she starts complaining that her throat hurts, and this morning, the barfing ensues.

Lovely.

It's fascinating that things that revolt you personally (I'd almost rather break a limb than throw up) have very little effect when your kid's the one suffering through it. She's throwing up and crying, and I'm doing the best calm, non-freakout mom routine I can muster. Two sessions of throw up, clean up, take a cool bath later, she's on the sofa watching SpongeBob and eating applesauce. Let's hope she can keep it down.

It's a Synopsis!

Finally! I've beaten the synopsis for my next book into shape. Thanks to some quick input from one of my fellow PowerPuffs, I now have a synopsis that doesn't make me cringe. I like the story, but you know how synopses are. Difficult. Mine usually come out looking like narrative barbells--detailed opening, detailed closing, and a lot of um--er--something happens in the middle.

This one's a bit of a progression for me. Sophie, the heroine of Crash Test, is late twenties and single with issues. Claire, my new heroine, is late thirties, single mom with issues. Here's a taste:

No one told me I’d end up a statistic. CLAIRE HOLLOWAY, divorced single mom, rotting away in a cubicle so I can pay for what child support doesn’t. It’s not bad, but it’s not what I signed up for. I sure as hell didn’t buy my own ticket on the Single–With–a–Sidecar Express. Nope, my charming ex–husband, BRAD, handed me my boarding pass a year ago, exactly a month after he met the nurse who’s now his current wife.

Mid–thirties are supposed to be my sexual peak. Right now, my peak looks more like a sand dune—a sand dune that’s looking none–too–good after a recent hurricane. That’s not hard to imagine when you realize the main men in my life are the husband who left me, my never–met–a– buzzword–he–didn’t–like boss, and my seven–year–old son, JORDAN. Jordan’s a great kid, but let’s just say that chicken nuggets from the drive–thru are no substitute for penne alla vodka with a handsome man.

I need to get out more.

I need a life.

I need to revive the interesting, lively woman who’s trapped inside that burnt–out, hollow–eyed mommy I stare at in the mirror every morning before I lose her altogether. But I have no idea how, and I’m not even sure who she is anymore.

So, what do you think?

The Bed List/The Dinner List

Today, we travel to Merry Olde (what is it with that extra "e" anyway?) England four our picks of the week:

BED LIST: COLIN FIRTH



I know of no woman in the romance writing universe who doesn't get all fluttery during the Mr. Darcy-gets-out-of-the-bathtub scene in the A&E Pride and Prejudice. Not a few of us have been caught trying to see around that blasted bathrobe, but I digress. Hey, there's a reason Bridget Jones herself has a Mr. Darcy fixation, and that's Colin Firth. Second only to the bathtub (first in the hearts of the true romantics) is the mangled-Portuguese marriage proposal in Love Actually. We're not just infatuated with Colin. It's love, actually.

DINNER LIST: JAMIE OLIVER



Anybody who willingly goes by the moniker "The Naked Chef" wins cool points in my book. Even cooler, though--aside from his obvious love for his wife and family--is his attitude toward cooking (more fun! less pretension!) and his willingness to address (ahem) meatier issues. His show Jamie's Kitchen helps young Londoners who might not have considered a culinary career--hell, who might not have considered any career--and train them as chefs. Better still is his new passion, shaming the British school food establishment. He's taking them to task on bland and downright nasty school food in Channel 4's Jamie's School Dinners. Read why at his website Feed Me Better. Hey Jamie--I have a largish urban school system in Central Florida that could seriously use your input...

Get to Know Your Friends

I admit it--I'm a sucker for stupid internet quiz email thingies (yes, I have an advanced vocabulary). Here's the latest one to land in my inbox. Thought you might like a peek into the "real" mimi! Feel free to add your answers in the comments section.

1. What time is it? 10:26 am
2. Name as it appears on birth certificate: Mary Louise Gaston
3. Nickname: ML, Mimi, Mama
4. Missing: the housekeeping gene
5. Eye color: blue-grey
6 Place of birth: Ft. Campbell, KY
7. Favorite foods: pasta, Mexican, chocolate, unsweet iced tea
8. Ever been to Africa? not yet
9. Ever been toilet papering? Nope--too geeky in HS to participate
10. Love someone so much it made you cry? Still do
11. Been in a car accident? Yep.
12. Croutons or bacon bits: Yep.
13. Favorite day of the week: Tuesday
14. Favorite restaurant: Enzo's
15. Favorite flower: tulips
16. Favorite sport to watch: baseball
17. Favorite drink: bourbon and seven or a whiskey sour
18. Favorite ice cream: Ben & Jerry's Phish Food
19. Disney or Warner Bros.: Warner Bros!! Chuck Jones and Mel Blanc are my heroes ;-)
20. Favorite fast food restaurant: Panera
21. What color is your bedroom carpet? wood (we ripped the carpet out after the hurricane)
22. How many times did you fail your driver's test? zero--and I took mine in a stick shift VW Rabbit!
23. Before this one, from whom did you get your last e-mail? Jenny, my college roomie
24. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Chico's or Pottery Barn
25. What you do most often when you are bored? nibble, check email, read
26. Bed time: I turn into a pumpkin by 10
27. Who will respond to this e-mail the quickest? Kathy already did!
28. Who is the person you sent this to that is least likely to respond? Possibly Mitchell, depending on how social he feels today
29. Favorite TV shows: CSI
30. Last person you went out to dinner with: my whole family
31. What are you listening to right now? cartoons in the background, Seal in the car
32. What is your favorite color? purple
33. Lake, river or ocean? river
34. How many tattoos do you have? None. I don't pay people to cause me pain.
35. Have you ever run out of gas? Twice.
36. Time you finished this e-mail: 10:31 am

Finally! Revisions!

I was beginning to think my revisions were coming by Pony Express. After the "dangerous fiction" episode with the Department of Homeland Security, I figured the trip down by relatively benign UPS would be, well benign.

Wrong again, Fluffy.

I get a call from a dispatcher on Friday evening saying that the delivery person had been all up and down my street and found the 1200 block, but not my house at 1131. Couldn't find the 1100 block. Gee, brain trust, there IS no 1100 block--my house, for some unexplained reason, has an 1100 series number. That's what I get for buying the model home. Even if the model home was built in 1970. But I digress.

So I give the dispatcher detailed directions to my house. No package over the weekend. Do you know how anxious you can get waiting for revisions from the agent? Anxious. Monday ticks by, and by the time 6 pm comes and goes, I'm annoyed. I call UPS. The package is on the truck and should be delivered before 7. Right about that time, I can see the truck behind my house, in the cul de sac. The phone rings--it's the driver trying to find my house. I try everything short of semaphore code to convince him that he's found the house--I can SEE THE TRUCK, for heaven's sake--and finally get him steered around front, where he hands off the package like it's a brick.

I restrain myself from dancing into the house. Even better, once I finally pry all the packing tape off, the cover letter is complimentary. Turns out I have less to revise than she thought, and maybe we can get this out quickly. You betcha. I'm hoping to be one of those fabulous "sold at conference" stories. Hey, a gal can dream--and after the horrible karma this poor manuscript has had so far, it's the least the universe can do.

The Bed List/The Dinner List

DH and I are in love with the movie Down With Love. It's a love letter to those 60s sex comedies that are all twinkle (heroine) and charm (hero), wrapped up in a bow of good humor and nudge-nudge double entendres. You know, good dialogue and clever writing. Our kind of thing. Anyhoo, I'd be down with these two gentlemen in a heartbeat:

BED LIST: EWAN McGREGOR



Men in kilts are some of the most delicious specimens on the earth. Scotsmen rock! My current favorite Scot is Ewan McGregor. I mean, who else could go from playing a heroin addict in Trainspotting (not a good look for him at all, but I digress), lovestruck Christian in Moulin Rouge, an American Army officer in Black Hawk Down, and the fanciful younger self of Albert Finney in Big Fish (another family favorite). Plus, he's got the goods to be Obi-Wan Kenobi. The force is with him, that's for sure! Anytime, Ewan; anytime. I don't care what you wear under the kilt.

DINNER LIST: DAVID HYDE PIERCE



Normally I have no patience for neurotics, but I'd be happy to make an exception for David Hyde Pierce, the brilliant creator of Dr. Niles Crane. David Hyde Pierce makes neurosis lovable. Plus, how can you resist a man who's willing to play "Brave Sir Robin" in Spamalot, the Broadway musical version of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, one of the top ten classic movies of all time? "Urbane" and "witty" don't sound too pompous when you're applying them to someone like David Hyde Pierce. I could go for urbane. That, and some really brilliant fettuccine carbonara.