Doomtown

Okay people. I am spent. Stick a fork in me. I. Am. Done. I have finished my NaNoWriMo 50K submission , and all I can say is I don't remember it being half this hard last year or the year before that . Maybe it's because I pantsed it all the way this year. Maybe it's because I have more clients this year and have been over working my right wrist, which, I might add, is screaming for me to "Stop the madness! Stop it right now!!! I hate you!!!!!!" My wrist is such a drama queen. In spite of excruciating wrist pain and a lack of planning, I made my fifty thousand word limit just moments ago. I can finally go back to paying attention to my husband again. I plan to pay A LOT of attention to him this next coming month, if you know what I mean. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge . And for those of you wondering what I won besides bragging rights and possible carpal tunnel surgery in the future, here you go: Bam, Bitches!

Not pictured above: A cat ? Also not pictured: A pilgrim cat . It’s Thanksgiving time. A time when family and friends gather around the dinner table to eat far too much food, fight over politics, religion, or whatever bug Aunt Bertha Better Than You has up her butt, and to give thanks to those wonderful Native Americans whose land we totally stole right from under them. Tell me I’m wrong . The origin of Thanksgiving is a tricky one to place. We were all taught the story of poor, misguided Squanto, the Wampanoag tribe, and the Plymouth Pilgrims they aided , but technically that so called first Thanksgiving Day dinner was more like a harvest celebration, and historians believe it was probably celebrated in September, anyway. It was a three day feast, so I’m hoping it was a rocking affair for everyone involved. Though I don't know how rocking it could have been what with the fact that it was celebrated by Puritans. "Goody Putnam hast been in the 'apple cider' a...

No Lazy Time post today. In its stead, please allow me to entertain you with this short excerpt from my NaNoWriMo submission . A little more humorous than the last piece I posted . Certainly, there's a lot less Hitler in it. This is a rough draft, so no hating. Enjoy! Taming the Muse “I really fucking hate you,” I said as I stared at the blank page on the computer screen for what seemed like an eternity. I had been trying to write this stupid story for days, but nothing was coming to me. Nothing. At this point, I would have made do with one line of a dirty limerick, but the words were stuck somewhere in the ether. The blank page stared back at me, mocking me with its crisp white surface. “A piece of paper is an inanimate object, Emily my dear. It has no sentience, can not feel your ire, and therefore does not give a bloody crap what you think of it,” Grim said in that British Cockney accent I had thought was kind of cool when I first met him, but now just g...

After seeing this awesome tee and learning I could make my own for free, I figured I'd give it a try. The company is called Teespring and this is how it works, as per their site : 1. Launch a campaign Use our  online designer  to create your perfect item. You can upload your own design or work with our library of over 10,000 pieces of clip art and more than 50 fonts. 2. Set a sales goal (tipping point) Decide the number of shirts you plan on selling. This is the minimum you need to sell for the shirts to be printed. 3. Add a brief title and description to explain your campaign This is where you can describe the tee, link to your website, or explain your cause. 4. Share and spread the word Share your campaign page with supporters and collect pre-orders towards your goal. There is no risk for a buyer to pre-order: they will only be charged if the goal is reached. 5. Reach your goal and the shirts get printed You can continue to sell shirts past your goal un...

My body is a hot mess, and I’m not just being Southern and overly humble about my looks. I am falling apart faster than a creationist’s argument , make no mistake. And for those of you who advocate creationism, please be aware that I’m in pain. I make no apologies when I’m in pain. I probably wouldn’t apologize even if I were feeling well enough to walk without limping or cursing, but the last thing I need right now is to be attacked by an angry mob of Ben Steins. I don’t care how good he was in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off . His stoic refusal of established scientific fact is rather irritating. This picture explains so much. It started out a beautiful sunny Friday. I didn’t have to be at work until 3 P.M and I was slowly, yet surely catching up to my NaNoWriMo word count. All was right with the world. My husband, our friend James , and I decided we were going to eat lunch at Messina ’s at the Terminal before I left for work. That’s when my day went to complete and utter hell...