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The past few days I have eaten some meals containing spaghetti sauce.
The sauce seems to be drawn to my chest and pants.
My conclusion: I have become a spaghetti sauce magnet.
And now you understand why I have not owned a pair of white pants since seventh grade.
Two weeks ago I went to Seattle with the very handsome boyfriend. He had an interview and I was checking it out as a potential place to live. We stayed downtown, so we did not get a good feel for the neighborhoods, but overall I have to say: nope.
Don't get me wrong: the food was fabulous. That's important. Good food. Plus they had some very cute boutiques with much more forward-thinking fashion than you tend to find here in staid Boston. Two great boutiques I visited:Diva Dollz (624 1st Ave) and Tulip (1201 1st Ave).
However, the weather: I know it's cliche, and I know the accumulated rainfall is actually less in Seattle than in Boston, but....what can I say? I'm a Northeastern chick. I can handle snow. I can handle summer humidity. I can handle heavy rain. But lots and lots of overcast days with drizzle? Not so much. Frankly, overcast days make me sleepy. Really. So Seattle might not be my best bet.
Besides, I figured I'd be eating so much great food I'd have to buy new sized fabulous clothes and the vicious cycle would extend and before you know it I would be broke.
Of course, Seattle does have the most-read population, meaning they buy more books on average than any other city resident. That gave me pause.
But in the end I decided that while I quite enjoyed visiting the city, I would not want to live there (a phrase I heard applied so many times to New York when I Iived there). Besides, the people are friendly. That kind of freaks me out.
I am reviewing the copyedited version of my manuscript. It's my last look at the raw stuff before it becomes a real book. Reviewing the pages, I am appalled by the number of red pencil marks. I thought I knew the rules about typing numbers (nope) and time (nope) or how hyphenated words work (nope, nope). In fact, thus far I have only marked one thing STET and that was a question from the copyeditor.
I had written that a character is so smart, she can complete the Saturday New York TImes crossword. In the margin she wrote, "Sunday?"
"No," I wrote in the margin below her note. You see, the Saturday puzzle is ten times harder than the Sunday puzzle. I may not know how to hyphenate, write em dashes, or numerate, but I know my crossword difficulty rankings.
Today I told Tracey, "I'm on Amazon!"
"What?" she said.
"Amazon.com. My book is now listed."
"Oh," she said. "For a minute I thought you were talking about some new drug or something."
Lest you gentle readers be confused, I'm not in the habit of experimenting with drugs, but I can see how "I'm on..." might have led her to expect me to name a medicine.
But who needs drugs when one's book is at last listed? I can now show people the link and say, "See? I told you I wrote a book!"
And if they feel so inclined, they may pre-order a copy online.
The link does not yet show a picture of the cover. I just saw it today. It's pretty. It's got legs, and it knows how to use them.
The other day I was vacuuming the stairs. I managed to tug too hard on the cleaner and the vacuum fell down a few steps, making an incredible racket. A second later my roommate Tracey calls out, "You didn't break the vacuum, did you?" We really adore our vaccum. It's the best.
"No," I said.
A half minute passed. "Oh, are you okay?" she asked.
Yup. I know my worth. Somewhat less than the revered vacuum cleaner.
Though if there was a fire, I'm sure I'd be saved before the t.v. Pretty sure.