Tuesday, January 29, 2008
However, the thinking is that if Mercury is going backwards then astrological things associated with it will go backwards as well.
- Businesses, travels and communications tend to experience delays and different problems.
I just spent over an hour in thirty degree heat, with two tired, howling children (one with a dirty nappy), with no food or water, travelling less than ten kilometres due to a truck fire on the motorway (all the traffic was forced onto the backstreets - bedlam).
- Computers and other processes that work with information may experience crashes, unexpected failures.
Lets not even mention my monumental stuff up with the database at work. Groan. I'd lost 1kg, as I so proudly announced the other day, but after a weekend of comfort eating over the whole database thing its all piled back on, plus a bit more. How can this be?? I mean I know because I was eating baaaad things, but HOW could I have put on over 1kg in four days. Fluid, it must be fluid. Please let it be fluid.
- Don't enrol in courses, don't buy expensive Mercurian items (books, cars, mobile phones etc.), don't sign important contracts and do not marry.
Expensive? Books? I don't think I've ever come across an expensive book. I wasn't planning to do any marrying, and there's nary a contract in sight at the mo, but I do wonder how all this will effect all the students enrolling at Uni next week. Hmm, I feel this does not bode well, perhaps I'll just stay home.
Did I mention my feet have gone orange? Yes, as part of the new me I bought some tanning moisturiser. Sigh. Now my legs look entirely untanned and my feet have gone orange. I suspect this may have a lot to do with Mercury as well. The dog loves the tanning moisturiser, whenever I put it on she follows me around, trying to l!ck my legs. Yes, its lovely.
And the toilet is making worrying bubbling noises. Are toilets influenced by Mercury? I hope not.
And ants invaded the cat food.
And the birds got all my tomatos.
And I've run out of nappies.
And I lost one of the kids birth certificates, cannot find the damn thing. Nowhere.
And... okay, I'll stop now.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Got the picture.
Then imagine a phone bank, a phone bank that is melting, filled to bursting with stressed students trying to enrol at University for the first time. Add to this staff who cannot hear and are either shouting EMAIL ME and hanging up in despair, or hiding under the desk in a vain attempt to hear something, anything.
Then pretend how you'd feel if it went on for FOUR HOURS.
Okay, then imagine if you were called away from this mayhem. Some one needed a favour, for you to fix up their database. A database filled with Very Important Information. You sprint to their aid, their office is quiet and you envisage a long visit. The database is easy-peasy to fix. No problems.
Then you realise you've been told the wrong information. You have deleted all the information in the very important database. All of it. Nothing is left. Not a single line. You cannot get it back. Leaping out the window is probably the only option.
If you can imagine this, then you have my morning.
No, I kid you not. I WAS that bad.
IT are in search of the missing data, fingers crossed the backups all worked properly. Anyone else would have faith and confidence in backups but alas I'm married to an IT person, so I KNOW about backups.
The jackhammering stopped at noon. Yes, it went from 7am to noon. Then we had the concrete trucks chugging back and forth, the howling concrete smoother machine (that makes me feel seasick), and then jackhammering recommenced at around 3pm.
AND on the trip home I had to battle holiday traffic with two screeching children in the back.
Am a quivering heap. May or may not recover. Haven't decided yet.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Writing's been the same. All a bit MEH, so the blog is not alone.
And yes you just knew there'd be a however.
In my quest to lose 18kgs I've passed the first hurdle of losing 1kg (okay so its baby-steps people) and therefore decided that I'd earned a shopping spree... Okay, I went through my wardrobe and tossed out everything stained/shrunk/odd shade of pink/made my boobs look like a new layer of chin. I was left with one brown t-shirt. Yes, Brown. But still, I have lost 1kg, so that should be included as well.
So having carefully consulted Trinny and Suzanna, and found how best to cover my tuck-shop lady upper arms (cap sleeves make your upper arms look like they're wearing a swimming cap apparently), where to put my ginormous boobs, what to do with my muffin top stomach and how to conceal my large thighs, stumpy legs and fat ankles - having found out all of that - I hit the shops.
I was ready to shop, I was going to spend money. Whatever it took. I needed a new wardrobe and the credit card was clear and begging for action. Then the lady in Myer would only let me take six items into the change room (I had seven). I growled. She was young. I won.
Still it was depressing. The overhead lighting turned my lipstick at garish hot pink and sucked every other hint of colour away. There was nothing. NOTHING. I left, promising myself at DJs there'd be more choice, 3/4 length sleeves and nothing in dreadful soul-destroying ice blue.
Then I met Attila the Change Room Lady. Attila did not take kindly to my eight items ("DJs only allow you five because of all the thieves," she explained, eyeballing me as if I was Winona Ryder). Well fine. But then she made me wait. Yes. Her two change rooms were filled to the brim with customers who only had five items. However, the changerooms just a few metres away were empty, I could see open doors. So I took my eight items and pottered off in that direction. Attila was having none of it. She was not tolerating a DISOBEDIENT customer. Oh no. Abandoning her post she sprinted after me and loudly claimed that she had to escort me to the changerooms and explain to that attendant that I was only allowed five items. FIVE. ONLY FIVE. NO MORE THAN FIVE.
At that point I explained that I didn't want any items and left DJs.
Across the way was David Lawrence. There the helpful assistant understood about tuckshop-lady arms and ferried my selection of goods to the change room for me. When I asked if I had too many she looked quite horrified. "Oh no, you can have as much as you want," she said. Bliss. Needless to say I spent a Great Deal Of Money.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Clearly its not going to be a day conducive to increasing word counts, and actually I'm not too sad. Yes, Boys of Summer is driving me up the wall. I've just had Max, my hero, ring his mother for money. SIGH. What was I thinking? Sexy hero's do not phone their mothers at the first glimpse of trouble. I don't know how the scene ended up like that, or why I kept on with it. Hmph.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Laguna Beach - the real OC. A documentary MTV style (ie, is loosely scripted) about wealthy young people living in a town in California. At first glance the show is about a group of spoiled, shallow and superficial girls. I confess I channel surfed past it, but it was the best of a bad lot so I gave up and watched. (It was either that or tearing my hair out over Boys of Summer - sigh).
I'm obsessed with women and community. Its always at the heart of everything I write. Women and how they perceive themselves, how the community perceives them, and how they interact with each other.
The dialogue in Laguna beach is not exactly scintillating. It goes along the lines of
"I, like, phoned him and then we, like, hooked up..."
But its the ebb and flow between the cliques of girls that's fascinating. The jealousies and rivalries, the manipulation and the catty unspoken and unacknowledged battle to be the Alpha female is compelling. One of the boys is playing two of the girls off against each other. He's clearly only out to sleep with both of them (which he does), but instead of blaming him they turn on each other. Why do women do this?
If you're bored at 1pm weekdays its on Channel 10.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
When you're a writer, published or not, you have to deal with rejection. A lot of rejection. And the thing that's rejected is your baby, your manuscript. The thing you've slaved and angsted over for months, even years.
Most days its water off a duck's back. The agent/editor/publisher said no, you accept that and move on. Business is, after all, business. But somedays it can be really hard. Sometimes it really grates and it can be difficult to keep on believing in yourself and your work.
Lately I've been reading Chicken Soup for the Writer's Soul, and a lot of the stories revolve around rejection. I think writers, by nature, are thin-skinned. We have to be. How else can we conjure up our characters and view the world through their eyes if we don't absorb the situations and emotions around us like a sponge. But this thinned-skinned-ness means we take our set backs to heart.
When I read stuff like this, somehow it makes the rejections so much easier...
Fifteen publishers and thirty agents turned down John Grisham's first novel, A Time to Kill. More than sixty million copies of his novels are now in print.
Friday, January 11, 2008
In a ROW.
Me time. Writing time. Sleeping in time. Pottering in the garden time. Not getting dressed until three time. Nobody having a tantrum time. Bliss. Joy.
Okay, so I do feel a touch guilty. But rest assured that I will get over it.
And no, I'm not going to spend my day off cleaning and going around the supermarket. NO.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Have also been messing about getting Boys of Summer underway. Yes, usually I begin these books on a flood of enthusiasm, word count mounts daily, there are joyful, almost ecstatic blogs, I am on a roll. Not this book it would seem. Just dragged myself over the 500 word mark after two hours of working, sigh. I think we'd better gird our loins for six months of moaning until I get this one done. Forget mid-novel slump, am having whole-entire novel slump.
Its odd actually. I've got a beauty of a story in mind, set in the world of professional surfing, there are corrupt police, hit men, people smuggling, a love triangle, bikies and truck drivers. AND I've set in mostly in Australia (had to include a bit on Tahiti so that I can hassle hubby to go there on a research trip). But it ain't flowing.
Had better go and cook cake.
No, don't worry, have been very good with diet, and have weighed self at least 30 times since first Jan, so I can say with great authority that I haven't put any weight on. Not a gram. Plus cake will be for gals at the park tomorrow and if it arrives with a bit missing I'll have to explain where the bit went. Though if I do bake cake now, before small screamies awaken from their nap, I will get to lick out the bowl by myself.
Mmmmm, cake batter...
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
This year has been my year for book presents. Oh and a desk. Shall post a photo of my desk when I get my camera back from my Uncle - left it at his place at the pre-Chrissy family do. I love my desk. Its a little rectangle of me space in a house dominated by kidstuff, gadgets belonging to my husband, and his shoes. He's very large, my husband (6ft 5, and a good foot taller than me - yes we look ridiculous together and have sworn that we'll never take up ballroom dancing) and his shoes/feet reflect his largness in a way that just seems to take over the entire house. Everywhere I turn I trip over these giant shoes.
We have no room for a desk, so am presently wedged in the spare room, the back of my chair butted up against the spare-bed. Oh well, I'll worry about the space issue when we next have overnight guests.
The book presents have all been brilliant. An armful on writing craft, an armful of romances to read and envy, and an armful of cookery books. Cookery comes close to writing in my list of favourite things, and I adore a cookery book. I actually read them with as much pleasure as a romance! I'm the same about cookery shows. Addicted.
Christmas and our week away was, if nothing else, a break. The kids were in a permanent state of melt-down excitement, so they took much cajoling and patience. Its to be expected I suppose. Miss Beanie developed a severe fear of waves, yes, as in screaming terror when taken to the beach. Poor little mite. And poor us who'd planned on a beach oriented holiday. Had bought all the gear, new swimmers and solar vests for everyone. They didn't even get unpacked. sigh.
Still we were staying at a lovely property in the Kiama hinterland, with lush green rolling hills, views down to the sea and a permanent cool sea breeze. Mumndad were in the cabin next door and they did sterling work as babysitters, not to mention feeding us at every chance. We did a brief road-trip over to Moss Vale and Bowral in the southern highlands so I could research my next M&B idea (presently called All That Glitters), and went and pottered around craft shops in Berry.
Christmas day was filled with excited kids, loads of presents and delicous food. Including roast goose, rabbit terrine, lobster mousse, crab, prawns, chrissy pud, custard, oh and some salady things in there as well. It was a good day.
Yup, the New Years Resolutions post.
Well not so much resolutions, but goals.
- Weightloss: I am going to lose 18kgs by the end of the year
- Writing: I am going to write 200,000 words this year (one single title and two categories)
- Outreach: I am going to give back more, take the time to connect with my family, other mothers, writers, people...
- Stress levels: I am going to slow down, and look after myself. I will not work myself beyond the point of exhaustion either in regards to writing or housework.
- Tapestry: I am going to finish my Poppy tapestry and continue my Grandmother's tradition of sewing beautiful things
Yes, I think that should keep me occupied for 2008.