Things that happened this weekend:
* I found sweet, dumb, silly Tuxedo Kitty trying to spray on my canvas map of Dickensian London. Again. My cry of horror brought everyone in the house running. I don’t know what that cat has against the West India Docks, but it’s apparently severe. I tossed the offender outside to ruminate on his sins, but he was distracted by a butterfly.
* A friend sent me the link to this…well, I guess “fan art” is what you could call it. Before I give you the link, though, just be warned that it’s not safe for work OR sanity. It is hysterically funny–as long as you don’t mind your 80s childhood weeping at the same time. Okay, that’s all the disclaimers. If you’re sure you still want to know…here it is.
* Got a new waffle iron. The old one was just…well, it’s tired. I guess we eat a lot of waffles. I can’t bring myself to be ashamed of this.
* I found out I have almost a bookcase-worth of World War II (Eastern Front and Dictators) books. My writing partner commented, “Well, you have enough WWII stuff to qualify for a Military History Specialty. Why not organize it?” I just didn’t think I had that much. I read that sort of stuff to give my brain a break, since I’m likely never going to write a story set in that era. I am…not sure what this says about me.
* The kitchen reorganized itself. It started out with moving a single crock of cooking utensils to the other side of the stove. Then I had to move another crock so the first one wouldn’t feel lonely, then I realized I could get some space if I just switched something else around…and two hours later, nobody could even find the forks. (Okay, I lie. I left the forks where they were. But that’s ALL I left.) As procrastinations go, this was a good one. Very useful.
* Panic-stricken, I realized there was a HUGE PLOT HOLE in the book now in copyedits. I dug through pages and pages…until I found out I’d fixed the plot hole two drafts ago, and that’s why I couldn’t find it in the CEs. *headdesk*
* Got a frantic call from a friend. “mumblemumbleRAN OFF THE ROADmumblemumbleTIRESmumbleOMGHALP.” So I bolted out to Hazel Dell (pretty name, right? It’s misleading.) and arrived at a tire-repair place ready for blood, screaming, or what-have-you. Turns out I didn’t need to kill anyone, just pay for a new wheel and new tires, because she doesn’t get paid until later in the week. That was my cardio for the day. I was so discombobulated that when she said, “I am calling the Pope and having you nominated for sainthood,” I actually replied, “Nah, I did too many Catholic boys.” The man behind the counter about choked on a laugh. He tried really hard to stay professional. Poor guy. I’m sure it didn’t help when I looked up at him and blurted, “Oh, hell, I just said that out loud, didn’t I.”
* Found out that Miss B. can, in fact, leap five feet straight up. If she’s motivated enough. (Like, say, by Steerpike!Squirrel. Who almost lost his tail.) It’s a good thing the fence has her fooled, for now. *sigh*
There were other things, but they’re either too embarrassing or boring to relate. So, that was my weekend. Now it’s time to dive back into those copyedits.
500 pages of them.