The strange things we do on a Wednesday evening

Andrew and Kyra first tried to catch a rabbit. Do you see a rabbit? Because I don’t.

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Andrew was frustrated with Kyra’s lack of understanding of his (mostly confusing) hand and arm signals. Then we came inside and tossed my manuscript in the air. No. Really. We did.

Here’s proof:

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Even the dog helped:

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Don’t you wish this was your manuscript?

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There is actually a reason behind all the insanity. It’s an exercise from Donald Maass’ Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook. Tension on every page. The only way, according to Mr. Maass, to edit every page for tension is to do it out of order. I have no reason to doubt this. If nothing else, the kids had fun tossing the manuscript into the air.

Sure signs of spring

Driving home from school last night, a cry rose from the backseat:

Mommy! The Dairy Queen! It’s open, it’s open, it’s open! Can we go? Turn, turn, turn!

Yes, it’s true. Our local, seasonal DQ is open for business. The kids, they want to go. Badly.

And today, instead of boots, I wore my new Chuck Taylor One Stars (in camouflage, of course).

Daylight Wasting Time

I read once that the best way to cope with a time change (jetlag or whatever) was exercise. Sadly, I believe the writer of the article meant a nice walk in the sunshine, not aerobic weight training at o’dark thirty. I have one word for that:

Y-A-W-N

Things we discovered this weekend:

Andrew can put together his own pinewood derby car. Okay, so we bought the kit with the pre-shaped car. Still, he did it all himself. I just wish the manufacturers would illustrate the box with a car made by an actual eleven year old and not a computer enhanced image by a master craftsman.

The library book we can’t find is called Uh-Oh, confirming that the irony never stops around here.

Andrew has the same exact shoe size as I do, but he won’t let me wear his new skateboarder shoes.

Chocolate pumpkin cupcakes are a big hit.

I found the recipe at Marianne’s. I had to use a bit of water, however. While she said her mixture had a mousse like consistency, mine was like excavated dirt. And I swear to you, I waited until they were completely cool to frost them. Nevertheless, something happened.

Andrew asked me why I spooned pudding all over the cupcakes. I told him it was frosting. He shrugged and said, “Well, it still tastes good.”

And we congratulated ourselves on such a healthy, beta-carotene filled treat.

Jonas Brothers concert: That’s just the way we roll

From the “you have been warned” category. My first clue we were in for an all-out love fest?

The rear windshield of a SUV in the parking ramp emblazoned with: Jonas Brothers Bound with a big heart drawn around it.

The love. There was much of it.

The screaming. There was much of that, too.

Somehow I slipped into the parking ramp after the daily rate, but before they jacked up the price to event parking. We found a nice spot for dinner before it got too crowded and had plenty of time for Cold Stone Creamery ice cream afterwards.

So all those little annoying things that can make going to an event so tedious didn’t happen.

We were spooning in ice cream when we spotted The Jonas Brothers tour bus from our perch in the skyway. A new mission was born. The kids decided to brave the cold and have their picture take by the tour bus.

The bus is covered in a fine layer of winter grime, that lovely combination of salt and sand, and who knows what else. In that grime? The names of many, many, many girls, along with *ahem* a few phone numbers. Kyra decided she’d like to write her name on the tour bus. Andrew did not.

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Next stop: The Target Center

We navigated the line, then got in another for T-shirts. Kyra went with pink (you’re surprised, I know) with The Jonas Brothers standing in a frilly heart. I promised one of my nieces a shirt, and Andrew and I debated the merits of each (minus the Future Mrs. Jonas one–nobody in our little circle wanted that).

Shirts bought, we made a restroom stop, then found our seats. We had an awesome view of the stage because for the longest time, no one sat in the seats directly in front of us. Sadly, this only lasted through the opening band.

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Clearly, they’re excited, so excited, Andrew feels the need to take his own pulse

I took a lot of pictures, mainly to figure out if I could get any decent shots and if so, on what setting.

The settings? Not so helpful. There are two separate ones for babies, one for “soft skin portraits” (which sounds a little sketchy to me), and an underwater setting (like I’m taking the damn thing into the lake any time soon).

A concert setting would’ve been really helpful. In the end, I used “simple mode” where the camera decides for you. This is also known as the “you’re too dumb to own a camera” setting.

The opening band, Rooney, was pretty good. They didn’t seem upset that they weren’t the main reason for the concert. This was unlike the time I went to see U2 and Smash Mouth got all bent out of shape because people decided to leave their seats while they played.

During the break between bands, three very tall girls plopped down in front of us.

I looked over at Andrew, then down at Kyra. Sure, Andrew could stand and see the show, but she couldn’t.

But the girl sitting next to me planned on standing/dancing/playing air guitar during the entire concert and offered her seat to Kyra. Unbelievably, in front of me/the girl were two moms, below them, another mom, below her, a dad. This strange phenomenom = adequate view for the petite Miss B.

Now, on to The Jonas Brothers Love:

Oh, the outfits. If someone wasn’t in Jonas Bros. wear prior to entering the arena, they most likely left with some. The styles ranged from the homemade to purchased, and included declarations of devotion and hearts. Lots and lots of hearts.

My favorite were two girls wearing T-shirts with the Jonas Brothers logo (JB) emblazoned on the front like the Superman one. Only this was no last minute glitter glue job. We’re talking serious sequins. They completed the outfit with jeans, Ugg boots, and … wait for it … red satin capes.

Thing of beauty = joy 4-EVAR. I want me a red satin cape.

Kyra and I did wear ear plugs. The music hadn’t even started, just the screaming, when Kyra ducked, held her hands over hear ears, and cried, “Mommy! The ear plugs! The ear plugs!”

And believe me, there was screaming.

They started the concert with Year 3000. More accurately, they played Queen’s We Will Rock You over the sound system right before The Jonas Brothers took the stage. That got everybody wound up. And yes, the teen/tween population knows all the words.

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Just what everyone wants to see: my crappy concert photos

The boys didn’t talk a whole lot. See the part above about all the screaming.  They did mention that just two years ago they were playing the small venue across the street (Seventh Street Entry) and now were packing half-arena shows at the Target Center. For this, they thanked everyone.

And there was much screaming.

They did flips and cartwheels off the different levels of the stage, various dance moves, tossed around the mic stand, and so on. During the first song, one of the boys (and honestly, I always mix them up) threw his hat into the crowd.

Behold, there was much screaming.

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Imagine if there were screaming to go along with this

They asked the parents to stand up and dance during That’s Just The Way We Roll. Most did. Kyra and I held hands and danced. Speaking of Kyra, she spent a short time sitting on my lap, then suddenly hopped off and started dancing like the big girls, waving her arms, and … screaming.

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Again, not the same without the screaming

This lasted for about two thirds of the concert. Then she collapsed in my lap and slept. That’s right. She fell asleep and stayed that way during a rock concert. Clearly she inherited my freakish sleeping ability. It must be genetic. Perhaps I should notify the scientific community.

Other tidbits:

The cell phone is the 21st century version of the Bic lighter. During the slow songs, you flip open your cell, hold it up, and wave your arms back and forth.

The moms in front of me went into a spontaneous 80s flashback and jumped up to dance when The Jonas Brothers did a cover of aha’s Take On Me.

All in all? Good time = had by all. Sure, it’s not like The Jonas Brothers are cutting edge or anything. They play nice pop tunes. But you know, at least it wasn’t My Little Pony All Star rock band (I don’t even know if there is a My Little Pony All Star rock band–I just made that up).

And it wasn’t the latest Disney offering, which is Finding Nemo On Ice.

No. I didn’t make that up. Andrew and I saw the posters and simply gave each other Say what? looks. A story about tropical fish. On ice. The illogic of that might make my head explode.

Really, I need to stop thinking about it.

So, I know Kyra had a good time. I think Andrew did, despite being surrounded by a legion of screaming girls. (“Mommy, why are they screaming? There’s nothing to scream about, the show hasn’t started yet.”) And I had a good time. Talk about a goldmine for a YA writer. Plus, my inner thirteen-year-old had fun too.

Even if she didn’t scream.

Much.

Busy basil week


You Are Basil


You are quite popular and loved by post people.
You have a mild temperament, but your style is definitely distinctive.
You are sweet, attractive, and you often smell good.

There, you have it. I’m loved by “post” people. Would those be the people who post comments on my blog? We may never know.

If you don’t see me around much this week, it’s because:

  1. I’m gearing up for the Imagination Fair (project done, yay!)
  2. I’m gearing up for The Jonas Brothers concert (earplugs not bought yet, boo!)

If I survive, I’ll post some sort of update on Friday.

Boundless luck

From the boundless spam luck department:

Not only have I won the British National Lottery, again (I know. How lucky is that? Do you know when they’re going to send the money?), but, apparently, my loon application has been approved.

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At long last, the loon is mine

I’m so psyched.

piers eared

So, the Marvelous Miss B, for her sixth birthday, which happens to be her “golden” birthday (a fact she’s well aware of) would like something special. She would like her piers eared.

Or, as it’s more commonly known, pierced ears.

I told her it hurts, like getting a shot, and that made her pause. Right now, I’m not sure if we sat her in the chair and she got a gander at the ear piercing gun, if she’d want to go through with getting piers eared. It’s kind of scary.

In other news: it’s really cold here. It’s so cold, we’ve had a serious run on the hot beverages at work. I went to make a cup of tea the other day and found maybe three flavors (out of the twenty or so you can find either on the little rack or by rifling through the cabinet, not that I’d ever do that).

I’m pleased to report that we’ve been restocked. Last year, when Andrew came to bring-your-child-to-work day, he was seriously impressed by the free hot beverage concept. More accurately, he was impressed by the free hot chocolate. I think he drank at least five cups. After he was hopped up on sugar and caffeine, I dropped him off at the activities for kids in the second floor conference room and felt no remorse.

In fact, the last time we visited the Children’s Museum, he wanted to stop in at my work and get a cup of free hot chocolate.

So, clearly, he was impressed with free hot chocolate. My actual job? Eh. Not so much. And that was after I showed him the awesome XML editor we write in.

Go figure.