Curious to see where I’ve been writing this past weekend?
Come, I’ll give you a tour. 🙂
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NaNoWriMo Progress
Month: November 2008
Family is Everything
I stumbled onto Obama’s Flickr stream via BoingBoing today and thought I would share two of my favorite photos from that set:
Mrs. Obama is gorgeous, isn’t she? I’ve always liked her – she’s very articulate, intelligent and she just seems “together,” you know?
But what really caught my attention in this photo was Obama’s shoes. Look at the soles – that is a man who’s done a lot of walking in those shoes. And it’s cool that he’s not being too pretentious with his wardrobe.
But this photo is my favorite – it made me smile:
It just goes to show, that kids will be kids no matter where they are stationed in life. Even though her dad would go on to become the next president of the United States, she was still bored waiting around. 🙂
And doesn’t she look like her mother?
I may not agree with Obama’s political agenda (at all, in fact), but there is no doubt he is family-oriented and for that, I admire him.
ADDED: I meant to pass this link along in the original post, but then my rancid body odor distracted me and I HAD to take a shower and I forgot. But now, I’m feeling, and smelling, better so my brain is working once again and I remembered …
Change.gov is a website launched by the Obama team’s Presidential Transition Project which documents the transition into power and solicits ideas from the public.
I’d love to be a peon on the other end of those feedback forms and read the suggestions coming in – I can only IMAGINE the craziness.
One thing that really struck me during this campaign was Obama’s technical prowess – or maybe not Obama’s, but certainly his campaign people’s technical savvy. It absolutely amazed me not only HOW and how FAST he got the word out there (leasing his own TV station is just one example), but that he utilized all of the technological avenues available in our geeky world TO get the word out.
That was a very smart move from Obama’s people. Very smart. And a lesson for all of us, really. If you want to get the American people’s attention, hit them in their cyber guts.
Savoring Family Time
Taken moments ago …
It’s now 8:24 a.m. The husband is taking a shower, I’m catching up on blogs (no emails to answer! Yay!) right now, will scarf down some yogurt after I post this and then head to the showers myself. The sun is shining (it was actually pretty cloudy yesterday – boo!) and it promises to be a beautiful day. It’s still pretty chilly, but I’m sitting here in front of the camper heater, hot air blowing against my sweat pants and I’m actually pretty cozy. When the boys wake up, they will likely camp out (pun intended) in this cubby hole.
(We spend a lot of time in this hole).
The husband and I did a bit of shopping yesterday. We went to BAM (Books a Million) and I bought Twilight again (I had to give my other copy away for the Bloggy Giveaway – I had just started reading it when the Giveaway started and I was all like, “Ack! I want to give something away, but what?). Then we went to Wal-Mart to see if they had Gears of War 2 for the XBox for GD (that is his birthday gift request) and they did. Whew! Apparently, this game is pretty popular and they only had two copies left. I’m betting Springfield has already run out of copies.
And that’s all we did yesterday. The kids didn’t even change out of their sweats (but in their defense, it’s just warmer to stay in them!)
My Texan chili was DEE-LISH!! In fact, the husband sang my praises all night (and I ate them [pun intended] up).
We played the game of Life last night – GD won (we called him Bill Gates he ended up with so much money), the husband came in second, me third, and MK last. We had a lot of laughs and I love the fact that the kids will remember that our camping trips consisted of many hours of board games.
We also watched Ironman together, too. The boys and I have seen it, but the husband hasn’t. As usual, we had to keep nudging him awake – movies are like a sleep drug for him, he simply doesn’t stay awake long enough to finish the movie and then has the audacity to ask what happened later.
Grr.
Today, will take it easy once again. We wanted to play a little putt-putt, but it might be too cold for that. In fact, I don’t think the courses are even open today. *sad face*
We plan on going out for steak for dinner, playing more board games and watching Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull today (again, the boys and I have seen it, the husband has not and again, we’ll probably have to nudge him all night).
Life is good.
How is your weekend shaping up?
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NaNoWriMo Progress late yesterday P.M.
My (Current) Facebook Profile Picture
Even though I look like a total geek/nerd/egghead wannabe, I like this picture.
AND, I think my glasses do an excellent job of hiding my wrinkles.
BONUS!
Show me your Facebook profile picture. Oh come on, don’t be shy, I really want to see it!
Sidenote: See that blank square in the picture frame behind my head? That’s called too lazy to go through my pictures and print out a good one to fill that hole syndrome. I’m currently seeking help for it. *wink*
Fleeting Thoughts – November 7th
I just woke up to a huge picture of someone flipping me off. It was on a blog that I routinely check in my Google Reader and let me tell you, I was not amused.
In fact, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me on this particular blog. I appreciate opinions, I appreciate passion, but wow, a huge picture of someone flipping the bird is just about all I can handle – opinions and passions aside. Especially when I strongly disagree with this person’s life views anyway. I kept her in my Reader because she is generally a funny, if not crass, blogger. And I enjoyed her insights because they were so different from mine. Again, I appreciate diversity. But I’ve noticed a trend, a negative trend, and I’m out. Life is too short to be bombarded with so much negativity, you know?
That happened on another blog I had been reading for a while – I eagerly clicked on her blog in GR (Google Reader) and there was a picture of her sticking her tongue down another woman’s throat. Ugh. Not my bag, thanks. Click*Delete
I’d like to think I’m not a prude, but I suppose, on some level, I am. I love interesting writing, I’m not a big fan of being consistently subjected to shocking material. Once in a while, haha, funny … disturbing, but funny. Take me to the edge if you must, but then coax me back, please.
Enough is enough.
I’m becoming quite discouraged by the quality of blogs in my Google Reader. Now granted, there are some really good ones, but there are also some really vulgar, Eff this and Eff that ones, too. What is up with the language? With the shock blogs? I feel like I’m reading Howard Stern wannabes.
Needless to say, I’m sick of it. I’ve been doing some GR housecleaning and am now on an active search for new and interesting blogs. I’m looking for edgy, fun, intelligent, caring and interesting bloggers to follow. If you have any recommendations, believe me, I’m all eyes. 🙂
It’s a cold, crisp morning here at the campgrounds this weekend. We didn’t wake to puffs of smoke coming out of our mouths, but it was pretty darn close. Our camper has a heater, but it also has fold-out-tent-like beds so you can imagine how cold it gets in those beds at night.
The boys are sharing the big fold-out bed at the front of the camper, we’ve sentenced the husband to the back, smaller bed because he snores so loudly, and I’ve been sleeping in the main area, on top of the kitchen table – sounds kinky doesn’t it. 😀
We’re sleeping in t-shirts, sweatshirts, sweatpants, and sleeping bags, but we’re having to use blankets on top of that. This sounds like I’m complaining when in fact, this is my favorite time of year to go camping. The cold almost startles you when you peel yourself free from your sleeping bag and blanket, but it absolutely wakes you up. There is no grogginess, it’s an instant snap-to-attention sort of thing. It really cracks your morning wide open for you. Then, there’s the whole huddling over a hot, steaming mug of coffee thing.
Aaahhhh … this is the life. The husband is not exactly a big fan of camping, he complains that it’s a lot of work, and it is, but there is just something so soothing to me to be out in the middle of nature. It just calms me. I feel refreshed and recharged.
The sun is coming up now and it’s warming up. It’s supposed to be sunny and in the high 50’s all weekend – perfect. We don’t really plan on doing much, just sort of hanging out and taking it easy. Between the four of us, we have three laptops and me, the husband and MK are currently using them – GD is still asleep. And I hope GD catches up on his sleep this weekend, the boy has been making himself sick (headaches, weak, nauseous) because he’s too freaking stubborn to go to bed at a decent hour because “he’s a teen” now and going to bed early is for little kids.
Pfft. I can’t IMAGINE where he gets that stubborn streak from. So, I’m doing what any good mom would do – I’m letting him wear himself down and learn his lesson the hard way. He’ll have to listen to his body sooner or later.
But back to the laptop thing – yes, we’re one big, happy, geeky family. We love our electronics. I’m going to head to the showers after I publish this entry and then I’m going to pack up my laptop and head to the laundry area where (hopefully) it’ll be quiet and I can get my daily NaNoWriMo word count in.
We went to our favorite Chinese buffet last night; it has sort of become a Branson tradition. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put the Texan Chili recipe in the crockpot today – we’re having that and fresh yeast rolls for dinner tonight (I made the yeast rolls yesterday). We also plan on making a fire and toasting marshmallows and making smores tonight.
That’s GD’s favorite part of camping, the campfires. He’s a regular pyromaniac – sort of worries me actually.
I also love camping because it brings our family closer together. I know that sounds strange given we’re all busy on our laptops and the only sounds you hear right now are the pounding of keys and the clicking of mouses … er … mice, but we don’t have to talk to be together, we’re simply COMFORTABLY EXISTING and these are the moments I’ll remember with fondness.
My birthday is Sunday. We aren’t really planning anything special because the husband already gave me my present (a mini-Dell 9) and this camping trip is part of my birthday gift. No, we’ll get back home Sunday morning, unpack, and then I plan on heading out to the university library and writing. This sounds like I’m abandoning my family doesn’t it? When in fact, it’s giving them a chance to unwind and get caught up on their interests – see? Family quality time doesn’t necessarily mean you have to be together to have that quality time.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. 😉
I’ll be 43. This doesn’t bother me in the least. I think mainly because it doesn’t seem real. It’s just a number. A high number, but we won’t examine that too closely. *smile* It did bother me to turn 40, in fact, that was the birthday I had the most trouble with, but now? Eh, you’re only as young as you feel, right?
And I’m feeling sprightly. Now there’s a word you don’t hear very often. In fact, that word most likely SHOWS my age. haha
It’s now 7:50, the family is up and reaching around me and thumping me on the head – I think that’s my cue to move so they can eat. I’ll try and post pictures later … or not. That’s the beauty of camping, anything goes.
ADDED: The husband just sent me this:
HAHAHAHAHA!!!
Oh come on, it’s freaking funny!
Have a great day, peeps.
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NaNoWriMo Progress this A.M.
Thursday Thirteen – Romance, From a Child’s Perspective
Picked these up from Romance From the Heart
1. What age should a person get married?
Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then.
— Camille, age 10
2. What do people usually do on a date?
Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
— Lynnette, age 8
3. Or from the male perspective:
On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
— Martin, age 10
4. What would you do if you were on a date, but having a bad time?
I’d run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
— Craig, age 9
5. Is it better to be single or married?
It’s better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
— Anita, age 9
6. How do you make a marriage work?
Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck.
— Ricky, age 10
7. How do you decide whom to marry?
You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
— Alan, age 10
8. And the female side:
No person really decides before they grow up who they’re going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you’re stuck with.
— Kristen, age 10
9. How can a stranger tell if two people are married?
You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
— Derrick, age 8
10. How would the world be different if people didn’t get married?
There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn’t there?
— Kelvin, age 8
11. When is it okay to kiss someone?
When they’re rich.
— Pam, age 7
12. Or maybe:
The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It’s the right thing to do.
— Howard, age 8
13. And my favorite, What do your mom and dad have in common?
Both don’t want any more kids.
— Lori, age 8
Kids. You can’t live with them, you can’t muffle their honesty. 😀
We’re off to camp for the last time this year. Pictures later! …. Maybe?
Reality Check – First Excerpt
I’ll be posting excerpts from my 2006 National Novel Writing Month project, Reality Check, every Thursday in November. I have comments turned off, not because I don’t want your feedback, but because I can’t afford to think about revising it at this point – I hope you understand. 🙂
Please remember, this is straight from my rough draft – I’ve done virtually no editing. 🙂 In fact, this is the first time I’ve even READ it over since 2006. It’s weird, it’s like, who the heck wrote this crap??
Oh, that would be me. 😀
You can check my current word count progress on this year’s challenge in the sidebar. Thanks for reading and KEEP WRITING!
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Hooking a finger around the handle of the mug, she made her way back to the living room. She sank down into the deep sofa cushions. She felt so old. Was 30 old? She took a cautious sip of the hot brew and stared at the branches swaying in the wind. She needed to stop feeling so sorry for herself. She was healthy, she had a beautiful, intelligent baby boy, she had a nice house, albeit small, she had been promoted to art director … she … she didn’t have anyone to share it with.
She groaned and placed her mug on the end table. She was so tired. So tired of trying to balance her professional life with her personal life. Tired of worrying whether Ethan was all right at the daycare center, tired of worrying about whether a client would like their designs, tired of meeting stringent deadlines, tired of being alone.
“Stop it,” she muttered. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself. You can do this. It will get easier.” With determined resolve, she closed her depressing thoughts, her hurting heart and her tired eyes.
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She awoke with a jerk. What in the world? She blinked sleepily. What had awakened her? She stared up at the ceiling, fingers of dark shadows from the tree limbs outside danced and swayed seductively with each puff of wind.
She listened. Everything was quiet. The air was heavy and still and smelled faintly of diaper rash ointment. She glanced toward the clock. A moonbeam slashed across its face – 2:53. She snuggled deeper into the couch and sighed. She really should go to bed and she would, she just needed to lie there for five more minutes.
She could feel herself succumbing to the comforting darkness again … she was falling … falling … falling into a thick, soft cushion of delicious nothingness when she smelled it.
She sat bolt upright and immediately felt dizzy and disorientated. She lifted her nose like a bloodhound catching the scent of it’s prey – yes, it was definitely smoke.
She rolled off the couch so fast she bumped her leg against the coffee table. “Shit!” She scrambled to her feet and hobbled toward the kitchen. Only as she reached the doorway, she could tell the smoke was not coming from that room. She veered away from the kitchen and turned toward the hallway. She stopped dead in her tracks.
Thick, black plumes of smoke billowed out of Ethan’s room. She would recall later how the smoke curled, coiled and rolled against the ceiling, almost caressing it with long ebony fingers of destruction. She heard a loud hissing roar, like the sound that emits from smoke stacks at a coal factory. A sharp crackle sounded and Brenna knew without a shadow of doubt that it was the sound of Ethan’s crib snapping into bits.
She screamed. The sound was ripped from the depths of her soul and disappeared into the dense blackness now rolling toward her with increasing speed.
“Ethan! Oh my God, ETHAN! ETHAN! BABY, WHERE ARE YOU?” She continued to scream as she ran toward his doorway. She kicked the door open and blinked in utter astonishment. She was staring down the throat of hell. Flames so hot they were a brilliant white were snaking their way up the walls. Bright blue wallpaper sprinkled with tiny boats began to peel, curl and slide down the walls – it looked like a waterfall, strips of liquid paper cascading down the sides and pooling onto the floors. Stuffed animals were ablaze and vaporizing before her eyes.
She continued to scream her son’s name as she attempted to enter his room. The heat was so intense she could feel her eyebrows singing. Her cheeks, lips and earlobes felt as if they were made of wax and melting onto her shoulders. She didn’t care, she had to get her son out of there.
She strained forward only to be pushed back by a wall of intense heat. She stumbled and fell back into the hallway, gasping and coughing, desperate for fresh air but frantic to rescue her son. She crawled toward the bathroom her legs unable to support her. Blood roared in her ears, her brain felt like a lump of white-hot coal in her head, searing all rational thought. When she finally reached the bathroom, she grabbed two towels and frantically soaked them under the bathtub spigot. She wrapped one around her head and carrying the other one, she staggered back toward the bedroom. She couldn’t see past the tears and sweat in her eyes. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe but she still moved back toward the inferno. In a small room at the back of her conscious mind she thought she heard sirens. She couldn’t stop to see if she was right. She had to save her son!
She beat back the flames now greedily licking the doorframe. A wave of nausea coursed through her body as the fire looked almost sexual in its desire to consume everything in its path. She slapped her way past the flames. She was in!
“ETHAN! OH GOD, ETHAN WHERE ARE YOU?” She thought she heard a cry, just to her right. She lifted the towel in front of her as if it would somehow push the wall of fire back to hell where it belonged. She strained to make it past the molten pillar of fire that used to be the rocking chair. The towels, now bone dry, caught fire and she was forced to drop them. Her hands were blood red and stinging but she forced the pain to the darkest regions of her consciousness. She could smell her hair burning and still she pressed forward.
She croaked out an animal cry of pain when she saw the spot the crib used to occupy – it was a pile of red, glowing kindling. Brenna sank to her knees and covered her face in her hands. She no longer cared if she lived or died, her son was gone.
Brenna’s insides felt hot and crusty. She could feel her heart desperately knocking and beating against her chest, like a bird desperate to escape it’s cage. Her lungs felt small and tight in her chest, choking and squeezing the life out of her body; her breathing became shallow. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before her clothes caught fire. She would be burned alive. She didn’t care. She deserved to die; she wasn’t there to save her son’s life. What was the point of living without him? She welcomed death.
Hell beckoned to her with open arms.
Brenna embraced it.
Write From Karen 