Quest for Cuffs

With Clint's birthday approaching, I had decided to buy him a pair of handcuffs as a silly add-on gift.  I thought they might be handy for...his earthquake emergency kit.  Yeah.  Because if there's ever a natural disaster and someone tries to steal your food, you might need to restrain said-person with handcuffs.

So I went on Amazon and searched out furry cuffs (because even emergency kit food-thieves would appreciate soft fuzzy comfort in bright pink, right?).  But all of the furry cuffs got bad reviews.  A lot of people said they broke after only one time of use.  I was disappointed by this.  Even though this was just a novelty gift, I still wanted something with a little more quality than a toy you could buy from the 99 Cent Store.  I finally gave up on furry cuffs (sorry future food thief) and ordered a pair of simple, stainless steal cuffs that had over two hundred 4- and 5- star reviews.  I decided to have them shipped to my mother-in-law's house to avoid Clint being privy to his gift.  They were to arrive in a plain box, so I wasn't worried about her being in on my purchase. 

The day after I placed my order, Clint's mom called and asked if she could order something through our Amazon account.  We're Amazon Prime members, and she wanted the free shipping.  Clint told her "sure."  I didn't think anything of it.

Later, I dropped the kids off at her house, and she asked.  "So when are your handcuffs supposed to arrive?"

I think my mouth probably hit the floor.

Apparently when she went to place her order through our Amazon account, it showed her my most recent purchase.  I was quick to tell her that Clint needed them for our earthquake kit.  I'm sure the nodding head on her part was complete, utter belief. 

Later on that night, Clint went to check his e-mail when he burst into uncontrollable laughter.  When he finally was able to stop, he said, "Uh, honey...?"  He turned his laptop to face me, and there it was.  A giant picture of handcuffs with the bold print words: "You're item has been shipped!"

So yeah, I obviously didn't realize he received shipping notifications from Amazon.  And I officially need to work on my ninja skills when it comes to keeping gifts on the down-low.

On the plus side, the handcuffs arrived last week, and they are just perfect for our...earthquake kit. 

DoT

Time for a long-overdue writing update!  This is going to make for some boring reading, but it helps to keep me motivated when I stop to talk about the process once in awhile. 

So here is the current word count for my Daughter of Time manuscript.  You know, I don't think I've ever revealed that title on my blog before.  I should mention that Daughter of Time isn't the name of the actual book; it's the name of the four-book series...in my fantasy world where Book 1 actually gets published.  I do have a name for Book 1; I'm just not ready to announce it.  It's not anything special, it just feels like I'm jinxing things by saying it outloud (so to speak).  Stupid, I know.

I just realized that "D.O.T." is the acronym for Daughter of Time!  Or I could do it WoW-style and write it like this:  DoT.  Ooooh, I like that.  I'm totally going to use that.

Okay, so I spent hours yesterday adding a new chapter and smoothing out some of the stuff from previous chapters.  As of today, I have completed all of chapters 1 and 2, a small section of 3, and all of chapters 4, 5, and 6 (although 6 still needs some serious grooming over, and it's a little too long).  A typical young adult book is a minimum of 50,000 words, and I'm about half-way to that minimum.  At this point, it's looking less like scraps and pieces of a novel and starting to take on a real shape.  Yesterday I was so excited by my progress that I actually felt giddy.  And then I started thinking about that day in the future when my manuscript is finished, and realized I'm really freaked out about that.  At least while I'm writing it, my ultimate goal is simply this: Write a book.  I don't have to think any further than that.  And I can have all the hope I want about it, and there's nothing that can contradict that hope.  But once it's finished, I have to create a new goal:  Get it published.  That's the scary one that requires me to delve into completely foreign territory.  I did get a magazine article published before, but that was so much smaller of a feat, and that was a combination of good timing and sheer luck.  But I have NO idea how to get a novel published.  As an unknown writer, how do you possibly convince someone to read your work?  How do you get your manuscript to stand out when it's buried in a slush pile with hundreds--possibly thousands--of submissions from other hopeful writers? 

The worst is I have to face the possibility of failure.    

I guess if I was willing to self-publish, none of this would be an issue.  But I won't do self-publishing.  I want the thrill of holding that letter in my hand that offers me yay-amount of money for all rights to my story.  That's the fantasy.  And I want to see my book on a shelf--a real shelf--in a Barnes and Nobles somewhere.  Is that too much to ask?  I honestly don't care how much or how little money I make.  That's not the dream.  Seeing something I wrote sitting on a shelf is the dream.  I'd be willing to live in a hole if I could just see that dream come to fruition.   

Oh well, it's going to be a long time before I have to worry about any of this.  Right now my focus is simply to finish writing the book.  And with everything else on my plate, it could take another couple of years to get this baby banged out.

Nice, huh?  My DoT manuscript has it's own special flash drive--the drive slides out from the crystal heart.  Yeah, it's a little on the pretty side for a flash drive, but as far as I'm concerned, any object that happens to be carrying your hopes and dreams ought to be pretty.  The name of the drive is "Pixie Dust," because that's what it's going to take to get this damn thing published.  If my house was on fire, this would be one of the items I would grab before running out the door.

Oh come ON, the kids and pets were implied.

Mines, Breweries, & Burning Pianos

I had intended to get on here several days ago to talk about our New Year’s Eve, but Matt and Alana gave me their cold (thanks guys) and it has been kicking my a#$ for four days straight. Two nights ago I actually broke down and took some NyQuil. It gave me the worst hangover I have ever experienced. I’m changing the slogan to "NyQuil. The night-time sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so- you-can-rest but feel like a zombie whose head is going to explode the next morning medicine.” I’m still all sniffly today (it’s so sexy), but the fuzziness in my brain has cleared enough for me to write at least a short, mediocre post.

So last weekend we visited Matt and Alana up in northern California. We left late Friday afternoon and drove for about six hours before stopping for the night. The whole stopping for a motel thing was a funny ordeal, because Shan had recently freaked us out with a creepy story about a wealthy man in the 1800’s who created a “Murder Hotel” (similar to the Winchester Mystery House, but with victims). Given the late hour and unfamiliar geography, every motel we stopped at from Clint’s viewpoint looked like a modern Murder Hotel, and he was like, “Nope, not this one. No on that one too. Oh, hell no.” After a dozen of these, I'm like, "Holy geez I don’t care where we stop, as long as I can take a shower,” and Clint starts reenacting horror movie scenes in which the hapless blond bimbo is butchered in the shower, to which I say, “Fine with me! As long as the water’s good and hot!” We eventually stopped at the Motel 6, which was gated, well-lit, and multi-storied, thus gleaning Clint’s approval (apparently having only one story immediately puts a motel into the ominously evil category, something you won’t find under typical Yelp reviews). In the end I got to take my heavenly, steamy, chainsaw-free shower, and we both lived happily ever after.

Great, I just spent a long paragraph discussing our journey to Motel 6, which sucks because I haven’t even dived into our official trip yet. Okay, the rest of this needs to move faster. Summary version, here we go:

Saturday morning we arrived to Matt and Alana’s house. They live on—oh damn—I want to give their street name, because it’s so funny. But that would be a huge violation of privacy, so we’ll just say it’s equivalent to living on Hillbilly Lane. Their yard is beyond awesome. They’re home is surrounded by trees and shrubs and nature, as in real nature (we saw three deers!), not stink bugs and tumbleweeds. Spellcheck is bickering at me because the plural for ‘deer’ isn’t supposed to have an ‘s’ on it, but I can’t stand it the other way, so I’m leaving it ‘deers’ (there it goes again).

Oh my goodness this summary version is NOT happening. You know what? Let’s just skip to some pictures. That seems safer than me writing.

Entrance to an old gold mine at the back of the Cosmic Cafe

 

 

Dining area within the mine (there were NO customers! Granted it was late, but how is this place not a local hangout?)

 



Clint and me in the mine

  

Remnants of an old brewery

 

The sign said "No Trespassing," which is like telling a two year-old "Don't touch that."

  

We stayed here in the Cary Hotel, a 157 year-old 'haunted' hotel that boasts "the second-oldest working elevator on this side of the Mississippi."  The kids and I rode the elevator every single time...you have to slide your own caged-door shut, and it has no concept of a smooth ride.  Technically only two riders are allowed at a time, but we figured the weight between us three was about the same as two adults.  The room we stayed in was a suite, so it was like a quaint, old-fashioned little apartment complete with a kitchenette.  I never saw any haunts, but there were a lot of things that went bump in the night.  It didn't help that our room was right next to the archaic elevator.  Okay, this is a really long caption for one photo.  One more thing, we had to walk through this really creepy dark alley every night to get into our hotel.  And there was a place right across the street called "Hang Town," the historic site where people were actually hanged.  Oh, oh, one more thing! (last one, I swear), the hotel clerk behind the counter actually said "Checking in?" in a creepy Twilight Zone-type voice when we first arrived.  Okay: end caption.    

 

Elijah, Trin and me

Replica of the Sutter Sawmill at Coloma (gold-discovery site in California)

 

 

The kids checking out a well

  

Elijah trapped in the well. But not long enough. 

 

Relaxing around a bon fire at Matt and Alana's place, waiting for the countdown.  Matt and Clint chopped up an old piano to use as fodder for our fire--you can see the keys burning on the right-hand side. It was like a Shakespearean tragedy.  On the bright-side, Matt saved all of the piano's strings, which everyone dubbed the Hell Harp because the music it produced makes a perfect sound-track for the Murder Hotel. 

  

Clint and I

 

Thought I'd end with a picture that took the reader away from Hell Harps and Murder Hotels.

 

During the countdown, several shotguns in the area were fired (including Matt's), something I'm not used to in SoCal.  And a weird siren went off for a long time.  It sounded exactly like an air raid siren.  After awhile, we were jokingly wondering, "Should we be bunkering down or something?"  Clint thinks it must have been an antique fire truck siren. 

 

Overall, I enjoyed the enthusiasm of this particular New Year's Eve, and we had a great transition into 2013.  



Cliche Christmas Post

It's funny that Jodi mentioned she didn't want a Christmas post to be on the top, because now there is going to be one on the top again (Jo, just write something real quick to knock it back down!). Sorry this post is so late..

Christmas Eve, which I normally LOVE, was actually a little rough. I haven't been sick in forever, and I actually got a little sick (of all days, go figure!). Jer had to work a half day, and all I had planned that day was to make cookies with the kids and to clean the little girls' room (I wanted to get it cleaned out for their new presents). That was a big fail. I never did get to the cookies (Jer baked them after work), and I threw up twice while cleaning the room. Afterwards, we went to my mother in law's house for dinner and presents. Things got a little weird there. I don't want to get into it, but I am thinking that my in laws are pretty jacked. 

We got home around 11pm, but Jer and I had to stay up late to do all the "Santa" stuff. Filling up their stockings was pretty fun. Jeremy always buys the stocking stuffers, and he always goes overboard. We usually end up cramming so much stuff in the stockings that it defies a few laws of physics, and the kids can barely get the stuff out again. After we finished with the stockings, we had to get an arcade sized air hockey table from our lower driveway (we had it hidden in a shed) up a hazardous, WET flight of stairs IN THE DARK, through our sunroom and into the family room. The table was SO HEAVY. At one point, Jer and I were straining to get the monstrous table around a corner, and I slipped on a wet leaf, causing us to almost drop the thing off the mountain. By the time we got it in and put it together, it was almost 2am. 

Christmas was wonderful! Shelby woke us up at 7am screaming, "Santa came! Santa came!" The kids got their stocking stuff, and then we took turns opening presents. I got a really NICE robe, PJs, a big tin of popcorn, tons of Bath & Body works,  some new slippers, and a bunch of stuff in my stocking. I got Jeremy a stainless steel, 9-drawer tool chest (that was a feat on its own! The kids had to help me get it in the house and hidden...it's pretty big!).  The kids love the air hockey table (they are playing it right now). 

We went to my parent's house, and opened more presents. I got  a homemade jewelry box (from my Grandpa), an outfit, a rooster thingy, a beautiful ring (from my Dad) made out of white and rose colored gold, new shoes, a new purse and GORGEOUS and fashionable overcoat (from Jo and Clint), new underwear that was made into a kite (from my Grandpa, and yes, I realize that seems bizarre), fudge, a $75 gift certificate to the Bass Pro Shop, and a couple other things. :-)

My family unanimously selects me to be on trash duty EVERY SINGLE YEAR. 

My Dad made prime rib for dinner, and it was delicious! The whole day was just really great. I think being around my in-laws has just generated even more appreciation within me for my own family. They are so fun to be with, and there isn't the tension and phoniness I feel elsewhere. I am so grateful to have them. 
One downside of the day was that I still felt sick. My stomach was fine, but my head hurt all day, and Excedrin wouldn't do anything. I also felt really fatigued, heavy, and a little dizzy. I forced myself to ignore it. 

And this cold, or whatever it is, just won't go away. Luckily I only had to work two days this week because of the holidays. But I still feel bad, even today. I thought it was getting better yesterday, but I relapsed today.

I had this plan to keep writing regularly, but the Sandy Hook thing happened, and that paralyzed me for weeks. I am not one of those people who turn to the internet or social networking when something devastating occurs. That one really punched me in the gut. Hopefully I can get more consistent with this. :-)

Well....Happy New Year! 

Personalized Dishes

I have nothing to say right now but it's almost 2:00 a.m and I'm having a nice little bout of insomnia, so I thought I'd get on here and try to type some sleepiness into my body (I don't think I'm making sense).  Plus I want to bump my last post down.  I don't know why, but I don't like it when holiday posts sit on the top of my blog too long.  Maybe it's because everyone writes about their happy Christmases and it just gets old and cliché, like "Okay, we get it, you had a nice holiday and your life rocks, yada yada...." Hey, I do it too. 

My dishwasher broke a couple of weeks ago.  It actually broke the day after my friend Kristyn's dishwasher miraculously started working, so I think her dishwasher somehow sucked the life out of mine.  Granted hers lives in Texas and mine lives in California, but since we're talking about magical life-sucking appliances anyway, I don't think the geographical distance matters.  So Clint's solution to a broken dishwasher?  Pack up all of our dishes.  But leave one of everything for each person.  One cup, one fork, etc.  AND use a permanent marker to write our names on our assigned dish.  Basically if you want to actually eat your apple sauce with a spoon, you better be damned sure that your spoon is clean or else your shit out of luck.  And don't make the mistake of using someone else's stuff...I used Trin's fork the other day and never heard the end of it.  I'd love to say all of this is a temporary thing, but I don't view a universe in which I will be willing to buy a new dishwasher anytime soon.  I hate buying appliances.  The thought of spending all that money for something that just blends into your house makes me cringe.  Maybe if our current dishwasher was like pea green or something, I'd be excited to replace it.  But our current dishwasher is a very nice stainless steel model.  Now it's a very nice stainless steel dish rack.  Well, if we had more than four forks to put in it, anyway. 

My laptop still won't let me respond to comments, which is really getting on my nerves.  My home computer does, but every time I'm home, the home computer is always being horded by the hubby and kids--pretty much because WoW is downloaded on that computer and they're all complete addicts. 

Tomorrow afternoon we're leaving to go up north.  I can't wait.  I absolutely love road trips.  I can be in a car all day long watching the scenery fly by...I'm like a content labrador.  But I'm also really excited to spend time with Matt and Alana.  The only downfall is I know it's going to feel a little strange ringing in the new year without my sis and all her kids. 

I'm going to eat some peanut butter now and head to bed. 

Oh, it's only when I'm sleep-deprived that I compare myself with a dog.

Christmas 2012

Christmas yesterday was wonderful, which is no surprise--we always have amazing Christmases!  Although this time we did have two little setbacks.  The first one was that Clint got stuck on the phone with Verizon for over an hour on Christmas morning.  I won't get into the whys, but it was such a bummer because he wasn't able to eat breakfast with us, help me clean up the gift-opening mess, or load the car.  By the time he got off the phone, we were running late and had to leave the house in a frenzy.  Once we were at my folks house, we were able to calm down and enjoy the rest of the day (except for we forgot Dylan's gift), but it was a rough way to start our day. 

The second setback was the fact that Clint had to get up at 4:45 a.m. this morning (the day after Christmas) for work.  Normally we would have stayed at my parents house until 8 or 9 on Christmas night, and I would have sat with my mom and sis during that last hour and enjoyed a glass or two of Moscato, knowing that Clint and I had the whole day after Christmas to relax.  But because of Clint's work schedule, we ended up leaving earlier.  I actually didn't mind having some time at home last night, but I felt bad that Clint had to get up so early this morning to work a twelve hour shift without getting any time to unwind from yesterday's busy day.

Besides those issues, the day was awesome.  I hate to define Christmas based on the gifts, but I made out big time.  Clint wasn't supposed to get me anything because he's remodeling the bathroom for my Christmas gift, but he wanted me to have something to unwrap, so he ended up surprising me with this clock from Kirklands:

I absolutely love it.  It is now hanging over my fireplace.  And--also from Kirklands--he bought me these two toss pillows, minus the pink (the pink areas are chocolate-brown in real-life):

And of course there were stocking stuffers; everything from fur-lined suede gloves to Ghirardelli raspberry-filled dark chocolates. 

I also received some great gifts from my extended family.  Some of the ones that stand out are a gorgeous shawl from Teri made from soft, gray, silky fur, and three beautiful scarves crocheted by Moo (since when can that girl crochet?).  Shan gave me an entire outfit.down to the necklace, earrings, and shoes.  I modeled it for her and my mom yesterday, and it is so adorable.  It helps that she can try everything on herself first, never having to worry if it will fit me.

But the gift that stands out the most to me this year was from my dad:

This is a ruby gemstone on a white gold band.  My dad is not in the habit of giving me pricey  jewelry for Christmas, nor do I have expensive taste.  But this particular ring has a back-story--I'll explain it another time.  For now I will just say that it means a lot to me.   

I was going to write down what I got everyone for Christmas, but given that it is now well-past midnight and Christmas was no longer yesterday, but two days ago, I think I'll head to bed now. 

I can hardly believe we are getting ready to enter 2013.  Remember when the year 2000 seemed so far off and futuristic?  And now here we are, almost thirteen years into the new millennium.

"Downright Giddy"

Somehow Christmas Eve is tomorrow morning, and we are so unprepared.  Tomorrow we will have to finish our shopping, which should be mayhem at its finest.  I personally don't mind last minute shopping, but Clint starts wigging out when he has to deal with crowds.  I still remember being a little girl and running around Wal-Mart at 2:00 a.m with my mom on Christmas Eve (back when they used to be open 24 hours), trying to find socks for Grandpa and stocking stuffers for my dad.  It was chaotic yet fun; I think because my mom always had a sense of humor about it.  And there's almost a camaraderie between you and the other shoppers, like "Hey, so you're crappy procrastination tendencies landed you here in the pits of hell on Christmas Eve too."

Christmas Eve with my inlaws is at our house again this year.  It will be the usual pajama party with breakfast served in lieu of dinner.  On Christmas morning, we will do our own little family-thing in the morning, and then head over to my parents house.  Again, it's all the usual stuff, but I am so, so excited.  For all of it; Christmas Eve and Christmas day.  The best (and laziest) way I can explain it is simply by quoting Kristyn in one of her recent posts:

I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas! I’m like a little kid, I love all the lights, the tree, and the pretty, colorfully wrapped gifts! I even enjoy some of the music and movies. I feel downright giddy that the day’s nearly here.... (click to view full post).   

That pretty much sums up how I feel.  I never outgrew my childhood excitement over Christmas, and I never plan to.

I am bummed out that I never sent out Christmas cards though.  It's a silly thing, but the act of sending out Christmas cards makes me feel...well, normal.  It's like laughing in the face of all the insanity being dumped on you and declaring, "Bring it on!  I'm still going to do this one traditional thing and you can't stop me!"  This year it feels like the insanity won.  Ughhhh.

Today we saw Matt and Alana!  They're up for the holidays, and we only had enough time to do lunch, but it was still awesome to see them.  We're going up to their place from the 29th to the 1st, so I'm looking forward to a more extended visit.

As promised, here's the owl I painted for my mother-in-law: 

I tried a gazillion times to take a picture of the canvas without the frame, but the flash kept turning the black paint a weird reddish-brown color.  Yet when I took the picture with the painting inside the frame, it took care of that flash problem.  I'm thinking I can just crop the frame out later if I feel like bothering with it.    

Oh, here's Elijah with the painting, just so you can see the size: 

I'm not much into painting animals, and after painting feather after blurry blue feather, it was hard to tell if it was even coming out.  But then I come across things like this on the internet and it makes me feel a little bit better:

This is a 9 x 12 oil painting being sold by the artist for $325.00.  Shan, you collect roosters...you want me to whip one of these up for you? I'll cut you a deal...I'll only charge $320.  =)

I'm sure I won't be back on this blog for a few days now, so Merry Christmas to you and yours! (and no, I will not do the weak-ass PC 'Happy Holidays' crap--sorry).