Kitty Cuisinart, I Choose YOU

So today I decided to pet my cat, Thumper. Mostly because he insisted, like he does most mornings at some point.

Doesn't he look so sweet and innocent?

Don't let that fool you. He's known as Psycho Kitty by my friends, and for a brief moment in time I forgot that.

Most of the time he hops on my lap, allows me to pet him, then descends to disappear to wherever he spends time when he's hiding from the dogs, or humans, or Darren. So today seemed like nothing new when he came to my desk and began stropping against my legs.

I should have kept an eye on the tail, though. That's usually a dead giveaway.

I don't know what I did, or who did what to him, but he decided about five seconds in that he was going to maul the shit out of me.

Hell, I even fell for the "pet my belly" trick because I was distracted thinking about my WIP. It was just like sticking my hand into, well...

Yeesh. Kitty is pissed. Maybe because I gave Precious (our elderly dog) pets first? Eh, it's not like I understand what they're thinking or anything.

Maybe I should just keep my hands on the keyboard.

I Love My Lyrica; Also, MBLU Convention News

Okay, so maybe this week was all my fault after all, but OMG, never, EVER forget to order your Lyrica. 

I put in a request for my doctor to renew my Lyrica prescription on the 6th. Unfortunately, it didn't get to its destination, and by Sunday I was out of Lyrica. Worse, on Saturday I'd done quite a bit to help my husband and kids do some work in the dining room that had been put off for a while.

By Monday I was in so much pain I couldn't even lay on my back anymore. I spent two days lying on my side as Dusty called the rheumatologist and got them to send the prescription to a different pharmacy, one closer to our home.

But hey, the dining room is looking much better.

I'm working today and hoping to make up some time by working on Saturday. It will keep my broken ass from doing anything stupid, at least. I think. Maybe.

Yeah, I didn't think so either.

OH! On another note, I've got some news from the MBLU Convention at the Mall of America:

Only a few days to get your hotel room for MBLU 2016! If you are joining us and would like to stay at the host hotel I highly suggest you give them a call and book your room! 

http://www.midwesternbookloversunite.com/venue

Also, this! (I think this part is AWESOME!)

Hope to see you there!

Dana Did a Dumb-Dumb

Ever been hit by the spring cleaning bug? Because I was, on Saturday, actually. Everything, and I mean everything, suddenly needed to be dusted, like, NOW. So here I am, running around with my spray bottles,paper towels, and a look in my eye that scares the children, cleaning like a deranged Cinderella who's late for the ball.

Now, to be honest, my kids do help when I need to clean the house. They have their methods, and I have mine.

We're working on that.

So all through the day, Dusty is reminding me to watch my spoons, and I'm telling him I'm fine, I'm good. I've got this. Yeah, I'm in pain, but that's normal, that's an every-day thing.

I was oh, so wrong.

I'm cleaning, and I'm making sure to take breaks here and there so I don't push myself. But I did things I know I'm not supposed to do, like the dishes (a lot of twisting and bending...it's bad for my back). I lifted things, and moved things, and hell, I even cooked dinner when we were all done. But I'd forgotten to listen to the warning signs that I'd used up too many spoons.

First, the heavy pain, where you can barely move, but you make yourself, because it will get better if you get up and move around rather than let your spine lock. We all know this, right? Everyone who has arthritis knows it's better to move through the pain.

If I had just stopped there, everything would have been fine. But, nope. My brain was stuck on MUST. CLEAN. My body was stuck on, OH. SHIT. And when those two collide, it's... well...

The second sign is my back going numb. I can't feel anything. That just encourages me to keep going, because hey! I'm not in pain anymore! Standing up and moving around really helped! So you think you're all good. Nothing's gonna break your stride, just like that song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3YrNSw5a2I), and you can take on the world.

I finished cleaning, cooked dinner, and realized that I was hurting again, but on a much larger scale. I lay down, certain I would be fine in the morning. See, I didn't realize I'd taken my spine and turned it into a pretzel. And since I'm not a cat, this is a bad thing.

Once I went to bed, the pretzel undid itself while I slept, causing all those lovely nerve endings to once again send signals of "What the fuck did she do this time?!?"  And being the good wife I am, when the dog whimpered at five in the morning to be let out, I tried to get up. After all, it was Dusty's birthday weekend, and I wanted him to sleep in for a change. So when I sat up, I wasn't prepared for the stars to be so pretty, or for my back to suddenly hit the mattress once more. I hadn't just thrown my back out. I'd hit it with a stick until all its candy fell out, danced the samba on it, twirled it overhead, twerked against it like a three year old drying their butt to music, and only threw it out once it looked like a frat boy after a three day bender.

So Dusty got up, I stayed in bed, and my back got even with me by keeping me there for two days.

But hey, my house is clean, right?

Well. This Sucks.

I managed to hurt myself yesterday. I was napping on the sofa, minding my own business, when someone ( a salesmen, Dusty told me this morning) rang the doorbell. The dog, who'd been napping as well, jumped up and barked so loudly she startled me awake. I jumped, twisted just the wrong way, and managed to hurt my back, causing my AS to flare up.

Oops.

I did heat therapy last night, went to bed early, got plenty of rest and took my pain meds. And after all of that, I can barely walk today. The pain is doing that shooting down my leg thing, and it's sharp and hard. Moving the ten feet to the fridge is a huge production as I shuffle my way to my diet cherry Pepsi stash.

So it's with a great deal of regret (and some guilt) that I bow out of the Frederick Book Festival. 

Damn it. I was looking forward to that, too. I had plans to see Carrie Ann Ryan and PJ Schnyder. I'm even on a panel! I feel awful about it. This is the first time my AS has forced me to bow out of something I'd given my word on, and I feel awful about it.

Stupid doorbell.

Dusty's all, "You can't feel guilty over something like this," but I'm going to do it anyway. I'm really sorry, but there's little I can do but continue the heat therapy and pray I'm better before I have to head to Lori Foster's RAGT. For everyone who was hoping to see me at the book festival, my apologies. There are still a lot of really good authors who will be there, and I'm aware of at least one raffle, so please go and enjoy. Heck, post pictures so I can pretend I actually got to go.

And I'm putting the damn No Soliciting sign back on my front door.

WriteWay vs Scrivener

I've been playing with some new toys recently, ones that are supposed to help me with my writing. A lot of authors on the RWA loops have been talking about two in specific: Scrivener, which just came out for Windows, and WriteWay, which was, apparently, always for Windows.

The first one I tried was Scrivener. My friend, PJ Schnyder, is working with it and loves it. She says it's really helped her keep track of her notes, her research, and keeps everything she needs in one place. I was intrigued.

Then I opened the program, and apparently I'm stupid, because I could not figure it out after two hours.

It starts by having you open a tutorial on how to work with it. Unfortunately, I found the tutorial to be utterly confusing after an hour of working with it. Scrivener was originally written for the Mac, and maybe that was my problem. I'm far more familiar and comfortable with programs written with the Microsoft Suite in mind. While the look of Scrivener, with its Corkboard, was really nice, I found the binders to be confusing. Worse, the program ate eight pages of The Hob, turning it into the tutorial's document! The good news is, the original Word document still exists, so I didn't lose my work from a few years ago, but still. I wasn't thrilled with Scrivener.

So I decided that while I liked the concept, Scrivener was not for me. What else was out there? That's when I saw WriteWay.

It was easy to work with immediately. I needed to hit the Help button once in the five hours I worked with it over the weekend (and I rarely write on weekends). I've got Angel in My Arms loaded, chapters and scenes set, research links added, all within two days. It's got a Synopsis page for when I'm ready, opens my Excel spreadsheet that I use for series work (as a separate doc), and has spots below where I'm writing for chapter and scene plot points and notes. When I'm ready to write, I click on the chapter scene I'm ready to write/edit and get straight to work. No confusion, no muss, and no eating of my document! It even keeps track of my word count in an obvious, top-of-page place. No hunting for it, no confusion. In short, it's perfect for me. Bonus? WriteWay is working on a version for Mac users.

The third program I heard of but didn't try was WriteMonkey, but the website was done in simple text, with no pics of the program. It is, however, free, which might explain the no-frills website. Some authors swear by it, but I'm happy with my purchase of WriteWay, so I won't be checking it out.

P.S.: If anyone has used Scrivener (or WriteMonkey) and loves it, please comment! While I didn't like the program for me, it looked really neat to work with. Maybe Mac users would find it more intuitive?

C Is For Crazy

That's good enough for me!

I've lost my damn mind. I'm in the middle of remodeling two rooms in my house, and without thinking about it I scheduled the carpet guys to come and install carpet today in my family room. I was so excited I convinced my husband that, arthritis or no, I could paint the family room before the carpet guys came. It's not like I haven't painted a room in one day before, right?

Yes, you heard that right. ONE. DAY.

So out we trot for paint, and off I go to, well, paint. The kids "helped", and while my molding is looking a little worse for wear we did a pretty good job, I think. Of course, I'm hopped up on pain pills today, so what the hell do I know? It wasn't as if I went to get out of bed today to take R to the doctors and had to hand-crawl up the wall to stand upright.

Oh. Wait. I DID do that, didn't I?

I get home from taking R to school after his appointment, and the new carpet is in. It is a pretty amber color, edging towards the orange end of the spectrum rather than the yellow. It's warm and cozy and contrasts nicely with my aqua walls (think sand and sea in the Carribean). The only thing that looks ugly is the sofa I'm already planning on getting rid of, so it all works. Except me. So I tell the hubby "Let me build the TV stand!" Because I'm hyped up on pain pills and can't hear the many names my back is calling me, bitch being the mildest. So it's built, and my pain meds are wearing off, and I'm reminded of what my mother lovingly calls my "special kind of stupid".

But hey, my carpet looks nice! Wanna see?

The Good, The Bad and the OMFG

Where to start? Oh, I know! The good! I'm pretty excited about the good. I'm halfway through my first NaNoWriMo, literally. I've passed the 25k mark and I couldn't be happier. Things aren't going quite the way I expected with Noble Blood, but that's half the fun of something like this. Start writing and see where it takes you without editing.

Admittedly, I did go back and add a character that I'd completely forgotten about. And since she's both important to the current plot and the heroine of the next book, well, I couldn't leave her completely out. But I didn't flesh her scenes out, just put them in so I remember to take care of it in The Meat Grinder. I had a working title for Shane Joloun Dunne's book, but it will probably be changed thanks to the way this girl is working out. I'm thinking the title might be something along the lines of Treasured.

Second (the bad), I'm finally going to see my doctor about my migraines and possibly switching my medication. The Imitrex keeps me from descending into the bowels of hell while a sadistic gnome tries to batter his way out of the top of my skull with a ballpeen hammer. (Do they still make those?) But I'm hearing from a lot of other migraine sufferers that my symptoms should go away after taking these meds and, since they're not I should switch it out.

Now I don't get migraines that come, I say "Owie", I take Excedrin Migraine and I'm better in a day or two. I get puking so hard you're peeing yourself while every mote of light is a stab at your brain through your eyeballs for about an hour. That lovely experience is followed by the feeling that your head is both floating and about to explode, and God forbid any lights are on between me and the bed. Then I pretty much pass out with a cold wet washcloth over my face. Yeah. Those kinds of migraines. The ones you hear about and think "It can't be that bad." Well, I've gone through a birth where they turned off the epidural and my son got stuck in my pelvis (a nurse I know actually winced when I told her that); I've had the front of a tooth sheer completely off, exposing the nerve, and had to wait a day before a dentist could see me; and I've had migraines.

I debate which one I'd rather go through. They're that bad. The Imitrex so far, if I take it at the right time, keeps me from getting sick. I still get the migraine, but not as badly. And yes, I'm learning all my triggers. Sodium nitrate has pretty much been eliminated from my diet, but there's not much I can do about weather changes. Stress will always be there but I'm learning to let things go since it's a major player in whether or not I'll get one. Still, if I can stop it in its tracks that would be so much better. Hence me actually listening to people and going to the doctor.

Pity my husband. Getting me to worry about my own health is like dragging an elephant by its trunk while someone tries to shove a Buick-sized pill up its butt. I worry a lot more about him and the kids than I do about me. He's the one who called the doc!

Now for the OMFG. I got a tweet from the lovely Bree half of Moira Rogers letting me know that Dare to Believe was #2 at FictionWise. And Bella, one of the Samhain Cafe moderators, let me know that Only In My Dreams is #1 at MBaM! How freakin' cool is that?

Honey, I'm HO-OME!

Yup. I got Dusty to wear the t-shirt in the Bahamas. He got stopped so many times. People wanted to know how he benefited. For those who can't quite read what it says: My wife writes romance novels. I benefit. Big time. (P.S.: The lady in the picture is his mom, but I forgot to ask if it was okay to post her picture. Hence the blue sunshine smiley over her face.)

The first thing we noticed about the cruise ship was how beautiful it was.


The second thing we noticed was the size of our cabin.


Yup. Four people, two under the age of eighteen, in that room for three nights. We spent very little time in there, thank God. I won't even go into the size of the "bathroom", or how I had to sit sideways on the bed to do my makeup in the "bedside" mirror. But it was clean, and quiet, so I can't complain too much. I just wish we'd known exactly how small the rooms would be. We might have upgraded rather than going with this. Getting the scooter in and out was an exercise all by itself.

So we left our tiny cabin and went exploring. Guess what the first thing my family found was?


Yup. The video arcade. Le sigh. M wanted the pool, R wanted the video games. R won, and M had to wait to go swimming. M was not happy. M took it out on the poor, defenseless dirt bike riders in the virtual world. Poor virtual people. How many times can you be run over by a five year old before you give up and cry like a little girl?

But we eventually made M happy.


Night-time swims will do that to you. He collapsed soon after into an exhausted little heap, wet, happy and clutching his stuffed puppy. R on the other hand had to have his PSP taken away before HE'D go to sleep.

That let us know we needed to try harder. Heh.

Day two of the cruise: NASSAU!

Yup, sunny, hot Nassau. Which, by the way, was NOT designed with mobility scooters in mind. I didn't take a picture of the "handicapped-accessible" curbs. I was too busy cursing the fact that I couldn't get up them. That kind of curtailed our enjoyment of Nassau. But what I saw was beautiful. A tip for those of you like me who are mobility challenged? Try some of the tours where you ride a boat or a bus for most of it. Don't try and sight-see on your own unless you're in a wheelchair with tall wheels and a nice burly guy to help you on and off the sidewalks.

We skipped the beach in Nassau thinking we'd hit it in Cocoa Cay the following day. After all, it was the Bahamas, right? Beautiful sunny and hot are like synonyms for the tropics. So we hit the pool for a little while before I left to get my hair done for the formal dinner with the family. Which, unfortunately, I don't have a picture of yet. I need to scan it in after I unpack. We had a lot of fun, met family Dusty hadn't seen in a while and I'd never met, and afterwards took the kids back to the pool. Once again the PSP had to be removed from ten year old hands before sleep took place.

Maybe he'd sleep after a day on the beach, right?

Last day of the cruise! We head to breakfast, eager to bury ourselves in warm sand and swim in turquoise oceans. This image didn't bother us too much.*



After all, sunny, Bahamas, beach. Then the couple next to us told us that the trip to Cocoa Cay was canceled due to the weather. Apparently they use a ferry to get you on and off the island and the seas were too choppy to allow the ferry to safely meet the cruise ship. We were handed a modified "ship compass", a sort of what's-happening-today outline. The boys were disappointed. As R pointed out he really wanted to bury M in the sand. And M really wanted to be buried. We quickly headed off a meltdown by offering a day by the pool. The boys agreed and we hit the pool deck, ready to enjoy our day.

And the pool deck hit back.

Sunny my very large tushie. I thought I left October behind but, damn it, it found me. I'm pretty sure it was between fifty and sixty degrees after wind chill, and the wind was fierce. If not for a quick grab my new red hat would have become a dolphin's latest fashion accessory. But the kids wanted to swim. Insisted on it, in fact. So we compromised. We'd allow them one hour, then back to the cabin for warm, dry clothes. So I parked my behind in a lounge chair, covered my bathing-suit clad self in a long towel and tried not to shiver too much. People in jackets and long pants walked by and stared at the crazy people in the pool, two of which were my children.

The beach picture I promised you? This is pretty much it.

After five minutes M decided it was too damn cold and hit the hot tub for the remainder of the hour. Much more stubborn, R pretended he was a polar bear until his tummy started to hurt. Then he, too, hit the hot tub. Of course, after five minutes he decided he felt better and got back in the freezing water. Gah. We dragged them out as soon as the hour was up. We then forced them to go to the children's play area of the ship, where we dropped them off for a few hours of supervised fun while we hit the casino (I still can't win at slots, damn it) and Dusty headed off for a relaxing massage. Dinner that evening was fairly informal. I somehow wound up at a table full of men. Not that I'm complaining, but most of them were either jail-bait or just past jail-bait. It wasn't a big deal, since I have nephews who range from eighteen to two years old. I know how to talk to boys. ;D

Unfortunately my back was beginning to make its presence felt. Forcing the scooter up and down ramps with my legs and my back, plus standing around in heels for family pictures during the formal dinner was taking its toll. I took a Tylenol with Codeine because I realized I might not be able to walk back to the cabin without it. Then I ordered the tiramisu for dessert without reading all the ingredients.

Did you know they soak the ladyfingers in Kahlua on that ship? I didn't. I had to be dragged back to the cabin. I still couldn't walk but really? I didn't care. Dusty took the kids back to the kids' area where they did some kind of pirate thing. He went to visit his family once they were signed in.

I went to sleep. It was a happy sleep, until The Dread Pirate M got back to the cabin and landed on my butt.

The next morning arrived way to early. We were told the night before that our call number is Lavendar Two, and we have the luggage tags to prove it. After breakfast (which is from six a.m. to eight a.m. this time) we are to go to a lounge and wait for our call.

We missed breakfast. We got there at eight fifteen, by which time they'd already called our number. The crew sighed and shook their heads at us when we told them we hadn't heard any announcement in our cabin. "That's because we don't do ship-wide announcements anymore," explained one crew member. Apparently everyone would respond rather than just the ones they wanted and that created chaos. So instead they wander through the lounges holding up a card that has the different colors on it and yell for you.

Yeah. That works. Not.

Off the ship, through customs, on the dock and damn it's cold out! Florida isn't supposed to go below seventy, damn it! I'm shivering in a maxi-dress and a shawl, and my kids are huddling together for warmth. Off to the airport earlier than we'd planned since they pretty much boot your ass off the ship with a smile and a fond farewell, and did you know you can't check your luggage in more than four hours before your flight? Home sweet home, order pizza because no way in hell am I cooking, and sleepy-bye for this tired, sore writer.

And we didn't give R the PSP either. He slept like a baby.


*P.S.: Ignore the date/time stamp. I didn't realize it was screwed up until I looked at the pictures. Some have the right day and time, some don't.

Decisions, Decisions

Today the migraine is at the "Okay, I don't hate hate you anymore" stage, which means I can go into the refrigerator for some iced tea without iron spikes jabbing into my eyeballs. I still can't leave the house, though, so for the third day in a row SuperDad is taking the kids to the bus stop. (I say SuperDad because he's doing it without caffeine.)

Now I have to decide if my brain will let me work or not. Bunny is starting to chatter again and I really need to work on him. If I'm going to attempt NaNoWriMo in November I have from now until the end of October to finish, polish, polish, polish. And in mid-October I'm going on a family-reunion type cruise with Dusty's mother's folks, so that will cut some time into the writing.

Huh. I was going to say maybe I'll take a stab at it, but all things considered that's a bad thing to say. I think, instead, I'll ease into it. I'll try some editing, see if my head explodes or not. If you're on the Eastern seaboard and you hear a kaboom, don't worry, it's just me.

Update from SuperDad: Apparently M decided to crawl around on all fours at the bus stop, baaa'ing and pretending to be a sheep. He would then stop and stare at the other kids because, well, he was an evil sheep. *headdesk*

Finally!

I'm finally, thank God, feeling better. The problem with migraines for me is I'm sick and in pain for DAYS when one hits. And this one I'm not entirely certain I could have done much more than what I did. I know my head hurt the night before I realized I actually had a migraine and not just a really bad headache. What made me understand it WAS a migraine was the fact that I was light and sound sensitive and the headache moved*, a classic sign of a migraine.

So I took my meds on Wednesday, but it didn't really do any good. Sigh. This is what I get for stressing over something I shouldn't have. I know the risks when I get too stressed, and I know what I should do to reduce that stress, but this time I allowed it to overwhelm me and paid the price.

What was I stressing over? Some emails I exchanged with Diane Pershing, president of the RWA. And while I don't agree with her stance on e-publishing I shouldn't have let the reluctance to change a point of view cause me almost a week's worth of pain. And if I ever start to do something that silly again I know just the man to stop me.

Hear that, sweetheart? Feel free to sit on this Italian girl's hands to get her to stop talking!



*With migraines, the headache will "travel" around your head. In other words, right now the headache is at the top half of the back of my head; a few hours ago it was focused right above my right eye.

Brains. I Has Them.

Got good news and semi-bad news.

Good news? Shadow of the Wolf is done, it's out of the Meat Grinder and it's with my beta readers!

Bad news? M, who just had his fifth birthday party, woke me a half an hour early this morning to build his new Thomas toy. It's this complicated "send Thomas down the spiral to crash into stuff" toy that requires some hand strength to put together. Needless to say, decaffeinated and in full Mommy Mode, I snapped that puppy together in under an hour. It wasn't until I was almost done that my hand decided to have a hissy fit of the "Guess what? You're on codeine today!" variety.

Um. Yeah. I have the feeling that once Dusty is fully caffeinated I'll be hearing about that. So far all he's done is shake his head, take a sip of his soda and settle into work.

So I'll be in the thumb brace today, which means this is probably the most typing I'll do. Maybe I'll go over my notes for Bunny, maybe I'll plot my next shifter or fae story, but either way, today is mostly a sick day. If I do that I should be able to work on Bunny tomorrow.

Dumb, Da-Dumb-Dumb-Dumb!

Today was the last day of physical therapy, at least until after I talk to my doctor. I don't know if she'll decide to send me back or not, but I'm expecting that she might.

So since today was my last day, the therapist was kind enough to show me some exercises that wouldn't just help with my back but also with my knee. We put some light weights on my ankles (one pounders) and put me to work.

I don't think I realized how much my knee hurt until I switched back and forth between my "good" knee and my "bad" knee. I've been told to stay in my "pain free zone" and gradually add more weights and reps as the exercises become easier. I left a little sore, but feeling like I'd done a good job. Then I went shopping, since R has a birthday party to go to tomorrow and I needed to pick up a present for his friend. I also needed to pick up M's prescription, and some covers for M's bed (long story). By the time I was done at the checkout counter I felt like someone had taken a tire-iron to my leg and back. I came home, ate lunch, lay down, and wound up falling asleep.

So I guess this is a round-about way of saying I got no work done today, but I did learn that there are times when shopping after PT is a Very Bad Idea. I'm going to do some work tomorrow while Dusty takes R to his party, so I'm considering today my Saturday and tomorrow my Friday.

I hope everyone has a good weekend, whether you're working or playing!

Yahoo Ate My Newsletter

I finished the newsletter last night (a day late, I know, but there's been a lot going on) and sent it out, but it hasn't appeared yet. Not in the group, and not in my inbox.

Sigh.

If it hasn't appeared by the end of the day, I'll re-do it. This might mean duplicate newsletters if Yahoo decides to go ahead and send out the previous one. Hopefully it won't come to that, but it might.

Thank you, Yahell.

UPDATE: Looks like the newsletter finally (nearly eleven hours later!) went out. I really wonder what's going on with Yahell these days...

Does Anyone Else Detect a Whiff of Eau de Lawsuit?

Got home from the family's Easter shindig (Happy Belated, btw!) to find the Twitterverse all a-twitter (pardon the pun) over something Amazon had done.

Rolling my eyes, because, really, Amazon has done an amazing amount of stupid crap recently, I read on, only to find that Amazon had managed to finally climb Mount Stupid and firmly plant their flag at the tippety top.

Amazon, in an astonishing display of asshattery, has removed the rankings from books. Mostly, to be precise, books of the GLBT variety, irregardless of sexual content. Mark R. Probst was amongst those who wrote to Amazon to find out what was going on. Their response?

"In consideration of our entire customer base, we exclude "adult" material from appearing in some searches and best seller lists. Since these lists are generated using sales ranks, adult materials must also be excluded from that feature.

Hence, if you have further questions, kindly write back to us."

And when people said "WTF?!?" they quickly backtracked and called it... a glitch.

The list of books includes those on how to raise children when you're a lesbian couple; a guide to college life for GLBT students; a travel guide for gay women; books that mention (MENTION) the GLBT lifestyle in a positive manner. We won't even get into the many gay friendly romances and YA titles that had their rankings stripped, thus making it much more difficult to find them in the Amazon search engine. A list has been written over at Meta Writer if you'd like to see some of the titles that are considered "adult".

Rest assured, however, that those books that contain ANTI-gay material are just fine. (Insert rolled eyes here.)

Pretty specific glitch, wouldn't you say? My first thought when I saw it? "How to start an ACLU Class Action Suit in three easy steps."

Now, others have already blogged about this, and in much greater detail: Smart Bitches, Dear Author and Elisa Rolle just to name a few. A petition was started up in protest prior to Amazon's "glitch" discussion. I, for one, can't see how a "glitch" could have done something like this. It's pretty broad. If it is simply a glitch, then someone needs the spanking of a lifetime.

And not in a good way, either.

Panic in 3... 2... 1....

I always get like this just before a trip. I see the calendar and suddenly it hits:

HOLY CRAP! I only have Eleven DAYS!?!

I only have eleven days.

Do I have all my promo? Did I count out how much I'm bringing so I won't be overloaded? Do I have all my reservations in a row? Do I remember how to take apart my scooter and put it back together again?

What dresses am I bringing? More importantly, what shoes?

I have to buy tea cups for the Sinfully Sweet party! GAH! Got the tea, no cups! And... and...

Oooh, back rub.

I love my hubby.

Okay, so other than the promo stuff, this is what happens when I'm close to going on a trip. Once I'm at the airport I'm fine, because there's nothing, literally nothing I can do if I missed something. But for the next week and a half?

Total basket case.

Add in the R&R on Only In My Dreams and this insistent little voice that's telling me you did it wrong! and you're looking at an EPIC basket case. (Did I say I'd have that done in two weeks? Seriously? Was I drugged at all?)

So today's focus will be on getting those tea cups and re-reading OIMD to try and figure out what I did wrong this time.

Oh, and trying not to panic. (Although those back rubs are pretty nice...)

Tax Time... Ugh

You know, I thought I was more organized. I had my medical, W-2's, 1099's, etc., all neatly in a file on my desk. Everything else was all over the place, but my tax stuff? Totally accessible. I like to file as early as possible, so I usually start mid-February just to make sure I have all of the documents I could possibly need.

I was wrong.

My husband, bless his heart, reminded me that I needed to pull up all the documents for my business. You know, my writer stuff? Flyers and bookmarks and business cards and ebook purchases? That stuff.

Gah. I have the one doc, the official doc that says I got paid and how much, but now I have to hunt up receipts for things. Receipts that, like little tiny lost butterflies, have landed on the sticky fly paper trap of my desk and died, little crinkled wings fluttering, because I don't USE my regular desk anymore, I use a computer cart and a laptop. And everyone knows the one flat surface in the house that doesn't get used is the one flat surface that doesn't stay empty for long.

Sob.

Why oh why didn't I file things? It's going to take me the rest of the day to collect all that stuff, scan it in, zip it and send it off. Luckily I'm not doing the taxes this year, so that will essentially end my involvment, but still. Ugh.

The one bright, shiny thing? The picture up there? That's not MY desk. Someone out there is worse off than me. But honestly? Not by much.

So it's off to tax land, meaning Mr. Mage and his Heart's Desire will have to wait until tomorrow for the rest of their story. The good news is that the rough draft is almost complete. I think it's pretty good, but we'll see what my betas have to say once its been through the Meat Grinder. After that I have to fix Bunny's little red wagon, and then? Possibly book 3 of True Destiny or book 2 of The Gray Court (which has been whispering to me fairly loudly. Sidhe, vampire and leprechaun, oh my.)

Isn't it always when the muse whispers loudest that you have to ignore it? Oh well, as Scarlett said, tomorrow is another day. Hopefully it will be filled with fewer paper cuts and cuss words.

I Have Lost My Damn Mind

Yes, you read that right. What was I thinking?!?

February 2nd
Live chat at Romance Junkies

February 5th
Romance Novel TV interview

February 7th
Annapolis, Maryland Borders signing with the DC Area Storytellers

February 9th
Samhain Cafe Meet and Greet with Logan and Kir

February 12th
Live chat at Coffee Time Romance

February 16th Guest blog at Novel Thoughts
Guest blog at I Do Not Want To Wait I Want The Book Now
Blog at the Samhellion Blog
Samhain Cafe chat with T.A. Chase

February 17th
Very Much Alive releases


Bunny who?

I AM Stupid

You know those T-shirts with "I'm With Stupid!" on them? Guess who I am.

Okay, here's what happened. I'm forty years old and already I have osteoarthritis in my back and knee. (I also have an undiagnosed problem with my left hand, but we're working on that.) And I don't bother trying to hide it. If you're going to the RT convention I'll be the short redhead in the black and blue scooter zooming around, because no way will I be able to walk a convention for more than, oh, six hours before being laid up for two days.

Anyway, Saturday here in sunny DE we had some freezing rain. In fact, it's rained a lot more than usual around here (and Dusty is very happy it hasn't been cold enough for it to be snow), which means I'm taking more Aleve than usual. Except Saturday, with the freezing rain, where nothing I did alleviated the pain in my knee. I tried heat. I tried putting my leg up. I tried putting my leg down. I lay down on the sofa and propped my knee with a pillow. And I took twice the dosage of Aleve you're supposed to take in a 24 hour period. Eventually the hands got thrown in the air and I told Dusty I was going to bed to try to sleep.

Sunday morning, I woke up queasy. Not really surprised, considering I'd abused my stomach, and it went away fairly quickly so I didn't think anything of it. Luckily the rain had stopped and so had most of the pain.

Cut to Monday, where I'm queasy again. Only this time, I'm queasy all day. I funneled Spiced Chai tea through my system in an effort to get it to calm down. It worked, barely. Tuesday, however? Tuesday I've got a headache. One that gets worse as the day progresses. And one that throbs in time to my heartbeat. Oh, and I notice little things, like I'm constantly shading my eyes and wishing people would talk in soft mumbles.

Queasy? Check.
Heartbeat headache? Check.
Moving headache (where it goes from front to back or side to side)? Check.
Sensitivity to light? Check.
Sensitivity to sound? Check.

And here I thought I'd merely overdosed on Aleve. Nope, we're talking full-bore migraine. Thank you, Ms. Bell, we hope you had a fun time on Name That Moron. Enjoy your consonlation prize.

Gah.

So I took two Imitrex last night, hoping to slow it down. And while it worked last night, this morning I'm wishing that the sun wasn't quite so bright.

I'm goint to try to get some work done. As long as I use the blue background/white text option in Word I should be fine. But I won't go near any white websites/chat rooms for at least another day, possibly not until Friday. The migraine won't let me.

Now I'm going to go lay down and put a cloth over my eyes. Blogger makes me write on a white background and it kinda feels like Gollum is stabbing my eyes with a toothpick. If I'm not back before Friday, have a great week!

Thus ends the tale of why I AM Stupid.

Rum Pa Pum Pum

So I remembered something today, and learned something today.

I remembered that I don't like rum. What reminded me? I ordered a Mai Tai in Red Robin tonight. (Don't worry, Dusty drove.) It was very, very rum-y. It kinda tasted like the bartender took some rum, added some ice, and then did some funky stuff with red and yellow food coloring and called it a Mai Tai.

What I learned tonight? The more Mai Tai I drink, the more I like rum.

Remind me to stick to Mudslides. I think they're less dangerous.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation...

1. Managed not to kill the children and eat them.
2. Went to Disney World and discovered the wonderful power of the Electronic Scooter. Whee!
3. Discovered that pre-school in my area costs an arm, leg, and your soul.
4. Dyed my hair blue, then purpley-pink.
5. ...

So, are you wondering about number 4? Wanna see?

Before you shake your heads and sigh (like my mother) or say, "What the hell did you do to your hair?!?" (like my father) or tell me "You know, this is why I get paid to do hair" (like my sister), just remember, they already said it.

Manic Panic Ultra-Violet was the first one I tried, and it came out blue. Then, after two washes, it just came out. So I don't have any pictures, since it was in my hair long enough to for me to wonder, how do purple and red make blue?

Manic Panic Vampire Red, however, seems to be sticking around for the duration. As fuschia. NOT red. Although Dusty will argue with his dying breath that it's light red, not pink, because real men don't say pink.

Now, I won't lie to you: I had hoped the purple would stick, because I really wanted purple streaks in my hair. But I promised my oldest boy (who detests purple) that I would give the red a try.

Well, son, I tried it. Hope you like pink. (And don't listen to your father OR grandfather... fuchsia is PINK!)