Category: Misc

I can has conzert tix?

So, I mentioned a long while back that I was going to try to get concert tickets to Hannah Montana. Now, even though I am completely aware of the pop cultural phenomenon that is Hannah Montana, I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to get tickets.

Or, as it turned out, impossible, since they were all sold out before they went on sale.

Or pretty much. Between the early fan club sale and the ticket brokers, there wasn’t a Hannah Montana ticket for love or money. Or rather, there was for money–lots of money, as in hundreds and even thousands of dollars per ticket.

So. We didn’t go to the concert. I explained the situation to the kids, who were less upset than morally outraged.

But that’s not today. No, it’s not Hannah Montana, but her opening act, The Jonas Brothers who are now headlining their own tour.

So, there I was, logged into Ticketmaster, clicking refresh like crazy until noon rolled around. Dude, I scored some seriously sweet seats. In about a month, Andrew, Kyra, and I will head to downtown Minneapolis and the Target Center to see The Jonas Brothers. On a school night, which I’m sure I’ll live to regret, but whatever.

My inner thirteen-year-old would like to announce the news in this manner:

ZOMG!!!111 The JOnas Brothers!!!!!11111

jonas.jpg

Yeah, we know we’re not really Green Day, but gawd, we’d love to be.

What the heck, I want to announce the news in that manner:

ZOMG!!!111 The JOnas Brothers!!!!!11111

In which I bake banana bread

That’s right. I baked last night. From scratch. That shadow you see crossing your front door? One of the horsemen of the apocalypse. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Not only did I bake, but I did so after completing four hours of line edits with Darcy on Geek Girl’s Guide. I. Am. A. Machine. Blame my new exercise routine, which, incidentally, bores the dog, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post.

I’d promised Kyra some girl time, so the boys left for the hockey game and we went to the grocery store. Actually, I should back up and state I meant to bake the bread on Saturday, but found I was missing a crucial ingredient. And, no, not the bananas, oddly enough.

A loaf pan.

I know we own one. Somewhere. So, I was all set, nearly started, but luckily searched the entire, freaking kitchen checked beforehand.

So, grocery store for loaf pan, other essentials, and Chinese takeout = mission complete. (What, I was baking, you thought I was actually going to cook dinner, too?)

The marvelous Miss B is an expert banana masher. I started her in on that while I added the other ingredients and hit stumbling block number two. I didn’t have buttermilk. But then, who does? I mean, other than all you foodie types out there. So I substituted plain yogurt. (Like the offhand way I toss that off, like I was so not Googling “substitute for buttermilk” in a complete panic for about five minutes there.)

I think it turned out okay, even though I discovered–twenty minutes into the baking–that I’d set the oven to the wrong temperature. (You know, I really should start a new blog: Disasters in Cooking.)  

Just wait until I tackle something really tough. You know, like a salad. (Involves knives. Nuff said.)

Tomato soup has more substance than this blog

I have so much to say, and not enough hours in the day. At least not this week. I did want to comment on all this fear and loathing in the romance community, but that will have to wait. Here’s what’s going on:

  • Beta coming up at work
  • Line edits for Geek Girl’s Guide with Darcy
  • (Yet another) writing class (for which I haven’t done the assignment due Saturday)

I know. I’m insane. For some reason, I thought this time of year would be quiet and a class would be a nice diversion for snowy, cold days. Color me diverted.

So, instead of any actual content, I’ll give you this passage from my journal (I was searching last year’s for a thread of an idea that I think will fit the writing assignment):

Okay, worst lunch ever. I paid for tortellini in tomato water? Come on, if you make a mistake, drain the pasta and add new sauce. I mean, tomato soup has more substance than whatever it was they put on my pasta. Gah. Not eating there for a while. At least it’s warming up.

Do you like that total non sequitur into the weather? As you can see: my journal = scintillating.

Drink at your own risk

First it was Marianne. Then Anno. Who’s next? And what can you do when all the cool kids are doing it?

Play along:


The Recipe For Charity


3 parts Naughtiness

2 parts Tolerance

1 part Humor

Splash of Fascination

Limit yourself to one serving. This cocktail is strong!

Next up: Jumping off of bridges. (Oh. Wait. I’ve already done that.)

We’re back, recovery mode: on

We’re back from the holidays, spent in balmy Alabama.

  • Laundry = done
  • Grocery shopping = done
  • Go get dog from kennel = not done, yet

I’d originally planned on going into work today, but for some reason, the vacation childcare places all are closed. Go figure. It’s probably just as well, since we’re all walking around, a little hungover from travel, a little bleary-eyed, a little cranky.

I need to get back into writing mode. I told Darcy yesterday that I’ve seem to forgotten how. We can only hope I figure it out sometime in the very near future.

So, I’ll be back, maybe even later today with more blogging, the year in books, the year in writing (if I remember how, that is), and so on.

Until then, have a very wonderful New Year.

Because it’s ballet

Yesterday was The Nutcracker. As promised, I give you the dress the marvelous Miss B finally chose to wear to this grand event:

ballet1.jpg

She went for the simple, sleeveless red satin A-line dress with velvet bolero jacket trimmed with faux ermine. White tights and red sequins ballet flats complete the ensemble. The red and white candy striped headband adds that right amount of holiday cheer.

Hello Kitty purse, while optional, is highly recommended, especially when it contains: lip balm, lip gloss, and Hello Kitty lotion. Apply liberally. Big brother escort in new cargo pants and a “button” shirt is also optional.

Andrew was underwhelmed by the ballet, kept wondering why they don’t walk or talk during any of it.

Because it’s ballet, I told him.

Kyra, on the other hand, enjoyed it very much. But she wanted to know why there wasn’t any tap dancing.

Because it’s ballet, I told her.

Jeans: one woman’s lament

Once upon a time, I could walk into The Gap, pull a pair of jeans off the shelf, and walk out without having to try them on (uh, after paying for them, that is).

Then, one day, they stopped making relax fit, or classically relaxed, or whatever it was. The only things on the shelves were these ultra-straight jeans (this was before the low-rise craze). Apparently, the fine people in The Gap marketing department believed women were built like planks of plywood.

At this point, I discovered Eddie Bauer had jeans that fit me. They also had flat front khakis that I could pull off the rack and not have to try on (well, more than once, of course). At the time, I worked at a place where business causal did not equal jeans. (In fact, you got “talked to” if you wore jeans to work.)

Then, I walked into Eddie Bauer one day and discovered they totally redid their jeans/pants line into one that included five different styles. A style to fit every woman, the advertisement proclaimed, with much fanfare and self congratulation.

Every woman, that was, except me. I tried every single style. They fit poorly and felt crappy. Jeans have to look good, but they really should feel good. That’s the whole point.

J. Jill to the rescue. Their “tried and true” fit was just that. I could buy and not need to worry. The inseam was a touch longer, which was nice, since I have long legs.

Friday, I walked into the J. Jill in the mall. Being cautious, I decided to try on the jeans–just in case. Plus the sales women were looking at me strangely. What? A woman in Dr. Martens can’t shop at J. Jill? Just watch me.

 Tried and true? Eh, not so much. Sometime while I wasn’t looking, they modified the design.

But I really needed jeans. So, I tried The Gap. They have something called “curvy” fit now. It’s okay. But I’m not spending that much money on something I feel meh about.

I trudged on over to Eddie Bauer. Apparently, someone in their marketing department got a clue. They now have something called “shaped fit” jeans, one size smaller in the waist than in the hips.

This, people, is what I’ve been looking for. All. My. Life. Finally, someone in the clothing industry who realized that no, my waist is not the same size as my hips. The only time my waist was the same size/bigger was when I was pregnant. And I don’t think that counts.

 I sucked it up and bought four pair–yes, I needed jeans that badly. Two straight leg, long (so sweet–fits in waist and in leg), and two with the boot cut, one in black. Admittedly, the waist still puckers, just a bit. But I can deal. Plus, they are so comfortable.

So, for the time being, I have jeans.

Merry Christmas to me.

How you got here

Here’s a few of the searches that brought people here: 

  • lots of writing about poor charity
  • Humpbacked lawyers

Seriously, people? What’s up with this. I’m pretty sure I’ve never blogged about lawyers, never mind those with humpbacks. And the other? My new motto: come for the (humpbacked) lawyers, stay for the self-pity.

In actual writing news, it looks like the Young Adult category for both the Golden Heart (unpublished) and the Rita (published) made their numbers. Every once in a while, I log into my RWA account and look at the contest entry page and gaze at my entries listed there. I know. I need a hobby.

Agent Donald Maass is letting you know what he’d like to see in a romance these days (I like the last one on the list–it’s a book I’d like to read, not necessarily write). Agent Nathan Bransford talks about December’s publishing coma. Agent Rachel Vater is getting back into blogging after switching agencies. She is already receiving queries for novels written during National Novel Writing Month. That would be last month. (Just reason 932 to hate NaNo. I’m still waiting for National Brain Surgery month. Think it will happen?)

And to end on a happy note, head on over to the Wet Noodle Posse blog. December is all about “The Call.” Mothers have birth stories, writers have call stories. There’s a mix of Golden Heart and SOLD! call stories (but not mine, since my GH call story is pretty boring).

Hibernation

So Andrew is at a Boy Scout movie weekend campout. Since the temperature is hovering slightly above and below zero, they’re not really camping–they’re sleeping in a lodge. It’s really a big slumber party with lots of boy movies, but since they’re boys, they can’t call it that. They’re camping. He’s due back sometime today.

Yesterday, Miss B and I hibernated. We got out the big fuzzy blanket and snuggled on the bed. I read an entire book. In one day! I haven’t done that in ages. We made brownies. We did venture out in the morning for ballet, but that’s all we did. Serious hibernation.

Today, I’ll have to do the laundry, at the very least, but it’s cold out with flurries in the forecast, and really, it looks like another good day to hibernate.

Miss B’s words to the wise for today: “You lose, you snooze.”

Actually, that sounds like a win/win situation to me.