Weekend Whirlwind of Fun ... and Food Poisoning

It is a well known fact that when The SIX plan a get-together, an event, a retreat ... anything fun really, that the world conspires against me. It's my punishment for being the most sane of us all.

I was bound and determined this weekend would be different -- I would be attending our impromptu retreat on Friday. And thus began the countdown.

Wednesday Night: Chinese take out. (Mistake! The skull and cross bones on the box should have been a dead give away ... pardon the pun.)

Thursday Night: Permanent residence taken up in our bathroom.

Friday: Much better, but now my husband (aka Retreat Babysitter) had taken up permanent residence in our bathroom.

Friday 4 p.m.: I went anyway. (Note: Left husband with homemade bread, homemade chicken noodle soup ... and my son. Note 2: I am highly motivated by guilt.)

Result: Most productive writing retreat EVER! Wrote 6 pages, and then 2.5 more when I got home.

Lesson learned: Making bread gets creative juices flowing, and I may have passed my curse off to my husband ... but better him than me. He isn't welcome at the "Girls Only retreats." :)

Pregnant Brain

OK, so I'm pregnant, with a giant case of the Pregnant Brain (the one up there on the left is mine), aka I forget just about everything, including the fact that I have a blog, and that it has a login.

Here are some other lessons learned as a result of my pregnant brain:

• When eating Halloween candy, and the candy is in your right hand (wrapper in your left), it is the contents in your left hand that should go in the trash. Goodbye sweet Twix.
• When washing one's hair, rinse is critical.
• If you're going to the store specifically for one item, you should leave with said item and not $40 of "other stuff."
  
• A bra is an important part of a public wardrobe. But not as important as my Panda fanny pack!
• If there are two words that sound kind of similar, but with completely different meanings, chances are I will use the incorrect word, I've run the gambit on that one.
• I have an un-potty-trained child, which means I should probably take diapers with me when spending the evening at my mother's house. Pajamas would be good too. Or maybe just move to Africa, and then I wouldn't have to worry, right? And we could put him to work making bread!

I know there are myriads more, but (here comes the shocker) I can't remember. So that's my brain, how's yours?

Theory: Creative types = good liars?

So ... I've mulled over this theory for awhile, but never really wanted to say it out loud because then the inevitable question becomes: Why would you think that? Are *you* a good liar?

Absolutely ... not. I do not lie. I would never. Really, I like to think of myself as an embellisher. Because some things are just asking to be embellished. It's just like that ratty old T-shirt that you love ... put a little puffy paint and bedazzle on that baby and it's better than ever! No one will even notice the holes.

Let's take Scenario #1: Embellishing, cuz it needed it. Read on, you'll see.

I recently posted this on FB

Truth: That particular morning it was just two guys. Four sounds better, thought right? And to be fair, there usually are four of them doing this and they seem to get all the other "lifters" involved if there are any who dare to lift weights alone ... I'm sure more of them arrived shortly after I left the gym, having ran my 5 miles for day. OK, it was 2. Two miles. OK, 1.5. Really, that's the truth.

Scenario #2: Not a good liar.

Hubs: Is something wrong?
Me: No. I'm just tired.

Hubs: I don't buy it. What did I do?

Me: Nothing. Seriously.

Hubs: Then what's with the face.

Me: What face?
Hubs: The something-is-wrong face.

Me: What ... this face?

So, question. Questions, rather. 1. Are you a creative type? 2. Do you embellish? 3. Can you lie?

Learning to be awesome ... even if I'm not Brodi Ashton

Last week was LDS Storymakers conference. It was great.

I didn't win anything in the raffle, unlike Brodi.
I didn't win the First Chapter contest ... again unlike Brodi.


Are you beginning to sense a theme? It was Brodi. In all her sashay-ing glory. But even without the winning, it was fun. Here are some of the non-Brodi highlights:

My favorite quote from opening ceremonies:
"There's always a market for awesome." -- Jennifer Laughlin

Breakout Session #1 from Bree Despain on Paranormal Fiction:
"It's all about the yearning."

If you're writing paranormal romance, know what it is when you start querying. It's not this --

Breakout #2 with Karen Hoover on Pacing:
If your pacing sucks, and you're in the middle of your book ... figure out who you can kill. -- Nora Roberts

Good pacing: Doesn't notice the curtains when there's an axe murderer in the living room.
Good pacing: Doesn't shove you in a dark alley, it lures you in.

Breakout #3 with J. Scott Savage on Villains:
"Hannibal Lecter could have been the best FBI agent." The best villains are pretty close to your heroes -- they just have a different way of getting there.

Breakout #4 with Krista Marino on The First 5 Pages:
"You don't have to be too rule-followy, because this is creative writing. Just don't confuse your reader."

Don't: Have typos.
Do: Have good writing.

Key Note with Dave Wolverton:
For a an excellent recap, visit Valynne's blog. She did a great job. But ... just because it was the one thing I did better than Brodi, all freaking day, I've included my doodles. My doodles were better than hers. And you'll notice that Valynne left out some of the more poignant bullet points in the key note ... like "Don't fake it." and "Exercise the demons."

I hate Blogger.

Had a lovely blog all ready. Hit "Publish Post" and it evaporated right before my eyes.

Tried again. Poof.
Again ... and I get this.

Alas, it was a lovely post we lost today. Truly. About Easter and my family antics about eating sacrificial lamb. Doesn't that sound fantastic? As blogs go, really, it was awesome.

After I give blogger the silent treatment for awhile, kiss and makeup and get up the courage to wrestle my toddler to gain a few more precious minutes at the computer, you may see my attempt to recreate the beauty that was lost.

Until then, hold your breath, I just might bring down the whole system.

But know that I tried my dear readers. All three of you.
Thinking of you ...

Canada's curse backfires, gives me the finger

I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday. Ours was splendid -- complete with a romp at Kangaroo Zoo where my little man climbed the world's tallest slide and had nothing but a cushion of air separating him from the thrill of his life, or possible death. It was all thrills.

Then we ate something "BBQ-ey." Per husband's request.

We had to do something exciting with our day, because I've got the fevah. The Olympic Fever. The let's-sit-on-our-butts-for-hours-and-watch-the-world's-best-athletes-compete-while-we-sit-here-doing-jack-and-eat-whole-cans-of-Pringles fever. Days have gone by and I have not showered. Little man's diaper change is long over due. We are out of Pringles. But I am not left without. I have learned things! Important things!!

This is what I've learned:

• My writing will suffer in February. Badly. BFF Kim has a fantastic excuse: One of the characters in her manuscript is involved in one of these fantastics snowy sports. I have ... no such excuse.
• Vancouver has sucky snow conditions -- I can tell you all about the crystal formations, the fog, the slush, and the shade brigade.
• Figure skating is so much more entertaining when someone lands on their butt.
  
  
• If you watch the entire moguls competitions, see Hannah Kearney win gold, cheer her onand not feel all that bad for besting Canada, and then fast forward through all the figure skating drama so you can see the podium ceremony (I mean really, what's better than hearing the anthem and seeing the flag raise? And yes, I get a little weepy. Patriotism people. Patriotism.), if you do all this, Canada will get the last laugh and give you the finger when your DVR recording cuts off right after you hear Bob at his most dramatic, "And now the Star Spangled Banner ... " Bing. Recording ended. Delete?

WTF?! Seriously? Oh phew. DVR is on it. We've recorded the program after the Olympics.

Select. Play. Here it comes!!

"And there you have it. Hannah Kearney wins gold in Vancouver."

Um ... what? Where's the close up on the flag? Where's the shot of the family crying? Where are the hands over their hearts, Hannah singing along for the "home of the brave?"

60 second lag time. 60 SECOND LAG TIME?!?!?! "THE" 60 sec lag time. Thank you very much, you suck and I got nothing. Just a big ole up yours, in your face camel cake, double finger from Vancouver.

Well curse on you Canada. Alex was great and totally deserved his gold, but curses anyhow!

I hate you DVR.

You are not my friend. Until tomorrow ... whenIneedyoutowatchmoreOlympiccoverage.

Love you!

What happens in Vegas ...

... gets blogged, texted and tweeted.

So, get ready Kim (another requester!), because here it is: VEGAS baby. Apparently, not everything stays there. And I will continue where Brodi left off, because there are a few numbers she left out.

Las Vegas by the numbers: Part #2.

Number of times I compared the Bellagio Buffet to the Wynn Buffet: 4

Number of times my husband texted to tell me I'd never actually eaten at the Wynn Buttet: 1

Number of times Brodi tried sushi: 1

Number of times Brodi gagged and spit out "veggie roll": 1

Number of dessert plates on the table at the end of our buffet rounds: 13 (they were very little plates!)
Number of times Emily was open with her nakedness: 5

Number of times Emily bocked at the suggestion of seeing Thunder Down Under due to nakedness: 6

Number of times Emily sang the theme song for her favorite penny slot: 9 ... "Catch a Wave we're sittin' on top of the World."Number of times we sang Brodi's version of "Mandy": 17 See Valynne's blog for more details.

Number of times we called Valynne "The Bux" after she exhibited mad gambling skills: 32

Number of times Valynne's mad driving skills were compared to a Vegas taxi: 2

Number of times Brodi traveled the strip standing through the moon roof: 1

Number of times we were checked out at the Craps table by men over 50: 437

Number of times Brodi gave said old men some hope by flirting back: 435

Number of times I offered to "practice my moves" on the poles in the tram: 1

Number of times there were snickers and hushed conversations in foreign languages about my moves on the tram poles: 2

Number of times we took an elevator to the wrong floor: 3

And then ... The SIX members in attendance drove home and I commenced with Part #2 of my trip: Shoe Convention with Sami. And the numbers continued.

Number of times I tried to open the wrong hotel room: 1 (Sorry 2085!)

Number of shoes I saw at WSA: 3,459,188

Number of Diet Pepsi's purchased before we found out we got them for free in the VIB lounge: 6

Number of grannies trying to touch something Australian: 4

Number of times the Australian moves made us laugh so hard we cried: 3

Pairs of Sami's glasses stolen by an Aussie: 1

And the rest ... stays in Vegas.