Meet My Muse

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Oh, There it is!

Right before Nationals, my printer died. Well, it didn't die as in dead die, just as in smearing black ink over everything died. Most stuff we printed was still readable, and the aquarium tickets I printed on it got us into the Atlanta aquarium without a problem, but there's no way I'd be sending out queries and the like on a printer smearing black marks all over the page. Just not my kind of professional.

So, Mr. Honey and I finally bought a new printer last weekend. We ordered it online, and Mr. Honey, being the brilliant forward-thinking man that he is, requested that UPS not require a signature and that they just drop the box off on our doorstep. Both of us are usually driving home from work at the time the UPS man comes through the neighborhood, and we wouldn't have liked passing him on his way out of the neighborhood, knowing we'd have to climb back in the car and chase him down, or wait until such-and-such time to go pick it up ourselves at the UPS place. So why not let it sit on our doorstep for three minutes?

Last night at 5:45 PM, Mr. Honey came barrelling out of our office and into the kitchen, where I was making dinner. "Did you bring the box in?" he asked.

"What box?"

"The printer box that UPS dropped off today."

At this point, we both stare at each other, realization dawning that I forgot we were supposed to get our printer delivered and that the printer was not, in fact, on our doorstep. Nor had it been on our doorstep at any time in the previous two hours. So Mr. Honey went back to the computer room and called UPS. He came out a minute later, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. This was his new printer, it has duplex capabilities, and the UPS man reported it was in our carport. But it wasn't. It wasn't anywhere in our carport. It wasn't in our duplex-mate's carport. It wasn't in a single carport in our neighborhood, and Mother Nature had finally decided to grant us a pouring rain that sent streams gushing through all the carports within a 3-mile radius. Thank God for the rain, but where in the world was our printer, and just how wet was it going to be when we finally located it?

Mr. Honey knocked on the neighbor's door. Nope, she hadn't seen a box. He toured her carport again. He toured our carport again. He opened one of the storage closets, for goodness' sakes! Nope, no printer box. I'm starting to panic. He's a little beyond that.

And then he stops in front of the other closet, the smaller closet in the carport, the one further back by the garbage cans. He grabs a little yellow and brown piece of paper sticking half out of the door crack. And he grins. We've found the printer.

Smart UPS man didn't want to leave it out in plain sight with a thunderstorm brewing, so he tossed it in the most unlikely place. As Mr. Honey said, we would've preferred the note that the printer was in the closet to be attached to our front door, rather than to the closet door, but our printer was safe and sound, and now Mr. Honey can print duplex pages to his heart's content.

And yes, K & E & A, I'm going to send the &%$^% query now. :) As soon as I turn duplexing off while Mr. Honey's up at DragonCon.

Posted by Honey :: 8:50 AM :: 5 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Saved by The Great Peanut Butter

Once upon a time, in a land called Officeville, there lived a fair maiden named Honey. Honey was a somewhat content maiden, having learned her place in Officeville and settled into her standard routine. In the mornings, she would send out missives to her acquaintances, check in on other acquaintances, and brace herself as she listened for word of the comings and goings and catastrophes in the great world outside of Officeville. In the afternoons, she used a magic paintbrush to change shades of gray to shades of whites and blacks, and sometimes she would also type in a Great Document, or retrieve Important Information. In the evenings, she retired to her cottage to laugh with her true love. In other words, Honey lived a boring life, but with a wonderful companion.

Then there came a day when the skies grew dark, thunder rumbled across the land, and nary a drop of rain fell. "Woe is me," Honey cried, "whatever could the fates be trying to tell us? Or," she continued, dropping to her knees in consternation, "could it be that karma has come knocking at my doorstep?"

No sooner had she finished her wailing than she found out what The Great Fates had in store for her. It was a small uncomfortable feeling at first, then it grew suddenly and exploded forth from her lips. Honey, you see, had been caught by The Great Hiccup Monster.

"Oh, Great Fates, I beg of thee, take the Hiccup Monster from my midst," Honey cried. "I swear to the Karma Gods that I'll do anything!"

Her pleas did not fall on deaf ears, for soon there was seen a rainbow breaking through the clouds. And floating on the rainbow was the largest glob of golden goo Honey had ever seen. "Have no fear," the glob of golden goo said, "for I am The Great Peanut Butter of the Sky. Hold hands with me, and you'll never face The Great Hiccup Monster alone again."

Nearly fainting with relief, Honey reached out and grabbed onto The Great Peanut Butter of the Sky. Almost instantly, The Great Hiccup Monster disappeared into nothingness, leaving blue skies and perfect temperatures once again in Officeland.

"Oh, Great Peanut Butter, you are my hero," Honey cried. "How may I ever thank you?"

"Just find me some good Jelly, sweetheart, and I'll be yours for eternity," The Great Peanut Butter said.

"Oh, Great Peanut Butter, we shall have a long and fruitful life together," Honey said. "You're wonderful. My true love shall love you, too, and we shall all spend our days and nights in happy companionship."

"Wonderful," The Great Peanut Butter said. "And I can get gum out of your hair, too."

At this, Honey did faint dead away in pleasure. Never again would she fear either the Great Hiccup Monster or the Sticky Gum in Hair Monster. And they all lived happily ever after.

Posted by Honey :: 7:43 AM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The Great Eye Experiment

It's been seven days since I started putting dollar bills in my right eye every morning. And though I can tell a bit of a difference, it's not enough to justify throwing money away. For a dollar a drop, I should be experiencing superman-type qualities. Like I should have x-ray vision. Or be able to shoot laser beams from my eye. This whole thing with my right eye feeling just a tad bit lighter and fluffier than my left eye isn't cutting it. Maybe I'll check and see if I can use generic Visine with my contacts. Then we could have The Great Eye Experiment Part II. But that would require that I go to the store and remember to check for generic Visine, and I don't foresee that happening anytime soon.

In other news, Mr. Honey and I are playing host to a friend off and on until mid-September. The off part starts tomorrow when our guest takes off for a bit of traveling, with the on part resuming in a week or so when he gets back, before he leaves for good. Mr. Honey asked if our guest would be leaving anything at our house until he gets back. When our guest indicated he'd like that very much, Mr. Honey replied, straightfaced and without a pause, "Great. I've been looking for more stuff to put on eBay." I love that man. He cracks me up.

In other other news, my office has become infested with fruit flies. Collectively since last week, the fruit flies are winning, with 4 of them escaping. Today, however, it's fruit flies 0, Honey 2. Either it's fruit fly season, or my computer has some extra features Dell doesn't like to talk about.

Posted by Honey :: 8:27 AM :: 2 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Monday, August 28, 2006

Needing some culture?

Yesterday, a neighbor flagged me down just after Mr. Honey and I got back from running a few errands. "I know you don't have cable," she said, "and I just got the first season of Gray's Anatomy on DVD. Would you guys like to borrow it?"

I think this was actually a silent plea that we join this millenium. See, this same neighbor was over a couple weeks ago, and as part of entertainment for the evening we put some old episodes of MacGyver up on the TV. She kept giggling at all the wrong moments throughout the entire three episodes we watched, and it wasn't until later that we found out why. She wasn't laughing at MacGyver - she was laughing at us because we were watching it. So I'm pretty convinced she's taken it upon herself to see to it that we finally make the leap into the 21st century. Maybe Mr. Honey and I will watch a couple episodes tonight after I make dinner in my apron and pearl earrings.

Posted by Honey :: 11:28 AM :: 5 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Rain Dance

It's been dry here. We've had thunder every day since Sunday, but can it rain more than a few spits for a minute or two? No, of course not. That might actually help my flowers grow, and the rain gods just can't have that.

Last night, Mr. Honey and I were fixing dinner. Okay, he was fixing dinner and I was watching, because I wasn't sure my stomach had managed to find room for any more food yet following the massive gorging of myself I did at lunch yesterday. Seriously, I can't remember the last time I've eaten that much food and not fallen immediately into a food coma. But back to dinner.

Mr. Honey peeks out the window and says, "Looks like it might rain."

I snort, because, well, we all know it's doomed to never rain in this part of the country again. It's like I have this massive rain-repelling device strapped to my head or something. Wherever I go, the rain does not follow. So I say to Mr. Honey, "Maybe I should go do the rain dance."

Mr. Honey grins. "Yeah, why don't you go do that."

So I do a little mock rain dance in the kitchen.

"Oh, no," Mr. Honey says. "You have to go outside to do the rain dance."

I feign indignation. "But what if the neighbors see me?"

Mr. Honey rolls his eyes. "They already know you."

I decide to see if maybe I can cajole Mother Nature into raining while I contemplate exactly what Mr. Honey meant by that. So I go outside, stare up at the clouds and the miniscule rain drops (if you can call them that) hitting my driveway and I mutter, "Is that all you've got? Just a few measly little mist drops? You wimp. I'll bet you don't know how to make a big rain storm. Wuss."

Then Mother Nature thundered at me. So I went back inside.

"You didn't dance," Mr. Honey says.

"I wasn't in the mood," I reply. "Maybe tomorrow."

Today, of course, the weather forecasts are calling for rain. I'm sure we'll get it - everywhere but my house.

Posted by Honey :: 7:33 AM :: 7 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

That'll be an arm, please

As I'm sure some of you will tell me, I have not been living in the real world. Because of Mr. Honey's job, we tend to get most medicines for free. And we're very grateful. But my eyes aren't covered as well under his insurance policy as the rest of my body is, so when I went in for my annual eye exam, we had to pay some out of pocket. No big deal - considering how well our insurance takes care of us with everything else, and considering what we'd have to pay for me to get my own insurance through work, I'm not about to complain about having to pay for a contact fitting and for my annual supply of lenses. But I am going to complain about my eyedrops.

Last year, my eye doctor declared that I had some allergy irritation in my eyes. Uh, yeah. I live in the south, land of 362 days of allergy season a year. Mr. Honey and I both take a cute little Claritin pill every morning so we don't spend the day wheezing and sneezing. Of course my eyes are going to have a little allergy irritation too. So the eye doctor hands me a little 1 mL bottle of prescription eye drops to try. They'll help, he tells me. They'll make my eyes feel lighter. I'll never know how I got along without them.

Last year, I scoffed at his suggestion. He wrote me a prescription, but I never filled it. This year, after a year of allergy hell until Claritin saved the day, I decided to go ahead and try the prescription. So Mr. Honey and I went out to our friendly neighborhood Walmart last night and I turned in my prescription. When I went back to pick it up fifteen minutes later, we checked out, and I was charged $9 for my 4-week supply of eye drops. That's my co-pay on non-standard prescription drugs at Walmart, and I'm happy to do my part to make myself happy. Mr. Honey, however, thought it was a little high. "Nine dollars?" he kept repeating as we walked out to the car. "Jeez, how much would it be without the insurance?"

A lot higher. Try $91. Nearly a hundred bucks for a 4-week supply of prescription eye drops. Holy crap. Without insurance, that's almost $25 a week. Just under a dollar for every drop. Why don't I just stick dollar bills in my eyes and see if that has the same effect?

Yeah, I know, quit my bitchin'. There are a lot of drugs much more expensive. My insurance paid for the majority of it. But for goodness' sakes, does that seem excessive to anyone else? For prescription eye drops?

I'm conducting an experiment now. I'm only putting drops in my right eye. If I can tell a significant difference after a week, I might consider using the drops in both eyes. If I can't... then I guess Mr. Honey and I will be saving ourselves $9 a month.

On an unrelated note, I remembered my dream this morning. Mr. Honey and I were moving to Germany, and I got to ride the train there. Yes, I rode the train over the Atlantic Ocean. Then when we got there, it had snowed, but since I've lived in the south for most of my adult life, I only had shorts and t-shirts. But we stayed with Barbara Samuel, (whose voice class is great, BTW) and she gave me warmer clothes to wear. Then some of my sorority sisters showed up, and then I went to a work meeting in the living room wearing my pajamas. It's so good to have my weird dreams back.

Posted by Honey :: 7:26 AM :: 3 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Bummer

I haven't remembered a single dream in over two weeks, maybe longer. I know I'm dreaming, because I remember going back to sleep to continue the dreams I'm in, but I can't for the life of me remember what they are after I wake up for good.

I do know they're dark dreams, about hiding and searching for things. Since I can't remember what happens in my dreams, I can't look them up specifically in my dream book. If I were to hazard a guess as to what my subconscious is trying to tell me about my life, I'd have to estimate that I'm missing something and I need to seek out some excitement and change. Maybe it's the day job. Maybe it's a plot twist I haven't picked up on yet in my WIP. Maybe it's the 60 or so unread books on my shelves, taunting me because I can never decide which one to pick up next. Somehow, while I was at Nationals, the book booty I cam away with ended up being about 40% contemporary romance (to include mysteries, adventures, and women's fiction), 30% paranormal, 15% historical (I want more! WAAAHHHH! Amazon, here I come.), and 15% other, to include YA and erotica among other random things.

Anyway, it's got me bummed that I can't remember my dreams. They're odd, scary as all hell sometimes (which I only know because I wake up relieved to be out of the dream), and twisted as only dreams can be, but I love remembering them. I love the inspiration my dreams provide, if only for teasing the Alphabet Girls with weird paranormal plot twists on Muse-tastic Mondays. And now I'm nothing special. I'm not currently in that enlightened group of people who have their dreams and remember them, too. Mr. Honey is relieved that he hasn't had to contemplate sending me to a shrink lately, but I'm just bummed. I want my dream memories back.

Posted by Honey :: 8:44 AM :: 3 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Monday, August 21, 2006

Historical Girl

I'm about 70 pages shy of being done with the book I'm currently reading, "To Love a Thief" by Julie Ann Long. Back when I was just 70 pages into it, I'd already decided I had to get my hands on her other book. I'm loving this story. It has such a smart, strong heroine, and she's perfectly matched wits with the hero. I sat in my papasan chair in my dining room and read half the day, cackling like a madwoman at the banter between the two characters. It's such a fun read. I'd give anything to be at home right now, finishing this book and ordering her other one off Amazon. Remind me again why we have to have Mondays?

This book is a historical, as was the last book I read. I think historicals are my new favorite genre. I'm looking forward to grabbing a couple more Woodiwiss books, and maybe trying a Georgette Heyer one of these days, too. While I don't really consider myself a feminist in the feminazi tradition, I do love a good story where the heroine refuses to just take her place in society and acts like a real person with thoughts and ideas of her own instead. Growing up, I loved Little House on the Prairie and the Anne of Green Gables series before I moved on to Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden. I wonder if my reading tastes just go through phases. At any rate, I'll be combing through all my new books when I'm done with this one, looking for the next historical to jump into.

Posted by Honey :: 11:31 AM :: 2 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Saturday, August 19, 2006

That's a what?

I hosted a Pampered Chef party at my house the other night. With family in town last weekend, and then with me writing like a fiend this week, I almost forgot to pass out invitations, so it was a small party. But it was still a fun party.

We made a turtle fudge skillet cake, which was devil's food cake baked in a big skillet instead of cake pans, and the frosting was melted chocolate and caramel sauce, and then it was topped with nuts, but Mr. Honey would've rather we made german chocolate cake instead. Of course, this is the man eating taco salad for breakfast as I type this, and he doesn't like much chocolate. But woe is me, I might have to make another cake this weekend.

While my very sweet, kind consultant was mixing the cake batter, she talked about the stainless steel whisk she was using. Then she made a mistake. Of course she didn't know it was a mistake, but then she'd never done a party in my house before. She mentioned The New Whisk. I'd seen this whisk at a party a couple months ago, and I remembered it well, so I whispered to my neighbor what I thought it looked like. My neighbor has known me for three years. She's used to me. So she chuckled a little to humor me as she rolled her eyes, then went back to paying attention to the presentation. Things were fine, until the consultant held up the new whisk.

Since blogger doesn't like me at the moment, I can't post my picture, but if you'll click here, it'll pop up in a new window.

So, as the consultant holds up this new whisk, my neighbor bursts out laughing. Everyone else in the room (all four of us), turned to stare at her. I shrug. "I don't know what she's laughing at."

She points at me. "It's her fault."

I grin.

She laughs harder. "She said it looked like a sex toy!"

At this point, the consultant's cheeks turn pink, and everyone else cocks their head to the side, contemplating how this whisk could be used as a sex toy. "You know, she's right," one lady says. Another nods her head in agreement.
"It doesn't look like any of my sex toys," the third says.

"Er, um, sorry," I say to the consultant. "Please carry on."

So the party continued without further incident worth mentioning, and life was good. I've pretty much guaranteed I won't be having another Pampered Chef party in my house anytime soon, but that's okay. I'm not a great host anyway.

Posted by Honey :: 7:33 AM :: 3 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Way back when...

A few years ago, I worked for a company I affectionately call The Demon Spawn of Satan and Medusa. I loved it there. Really. It gave me all kinds of fodder for my writing. ;)

While I was there, The Powers That Be decided to hire some interns to work under me. I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sit on the other side of the interview desk for once, and I got to help choose who would work for me. There's one intern in particular whose interview I'll never forget. He walked into the room, sat down, and greeted us with the most melodic voice I'd ever heard. It sounded British but with a twist. A few minutes into the interview, my good ol' southern boy boss asks him, "Where you from?"
He says, "Kenya, sir."
And the boss says, "Well you talk Enlish real good."
At this point, the little voice in the back of my head is screaming, "He DID NOT just say that!"
So then the intern replies, "I grew up speaking Enlish."
Remember geography? As it turns out, most people in Kenya speak English, because it was an English colony.
Lucky for us, he wasn't offended. In fact, he found it pretty funny. I'm sure the phrase Ignorant Americans crossed his mind once or twice, or maybe hundreds of times before his internship was over, but he never let on.

I heard from that intern this morning. He's running a triathalon in California to raise funds for Leukemia and Lymphoma research. As some of you know, I lost an uncle to cancer last month, and Mr. Honey's grandmother died of lymphoma last November. My intern couldn't have known how very close to home his email would hit, but it makes me proud to know people like him are out there working to find a cure. You just never know who your actions are going to touch.

For the record, I loved my interns. They were some of the funniest guys I've ever met. They noticed I was having a bad day once, and the next day they all came in with pictures they'd colored out of a little kid's coloring book. They pulled their first office pranks under my watch. I was their mama hen for ten weeks. It was hysterical. I expect nothing less from engineering students.

Have a great Thursday. :)

Posted by Honey :: 7:48 AM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

What's for Dinner?

Many thanks for the jokes yesterday. Mr. Honey got quite a kick out of them.

Mr. Honey and I like to have guests over for dinner from time to time, but given his recent forays into exotic cuisine, I'm not sure how often our friends will actually be willing to set foot in our house. For instance, have you ever tried sushi? Well, what about Twinkie Sushi?


How about a Myoplex cake for dessert? I kid you not, last evening Mr. Honey took one of his Myoplex protein shake mixes, added some baking powder and water, poured it into a cast iron skillet, and baked it at 350 for 20 minutes. The results? A Myoplex brownie. Not exactly Duncan Hines quality, but tolerable in a protein shake sort of way.

Just thought you'd like to know for the next time you get an invitation to my house for dinner. :) Happy Hump Day!

Posted by Honey :: 8:13 AM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Mr. Honey's Bad Day

Poor Mr. Honey. He had a rough day yesterday. He needs some cheering up.

I thought I had it bad when I got home and found a dead chipmunk in our driveway. Little did I know, Mr. Honey had it worse. Poor Mr. Honey was there when the chipmunk died. And he felt really bad about it. So we mourned the chipmunk last night, but there's not much more we can do. We can't bring it back. Can you imagine? It would be like Night of the Living Chipmunk. Undead and Unchipmunked. The Chipmunk who Haunts Me. Chipmunkula.

Oops, sorry, got off track there. The point is to cheer Mr. Honey up. So today I ask that you share a joke, a funny story, a good link, in the comment section. Dirty jokes (a boy fell in a mud puddle), clean jokes (he took a bath), anything. Thanks! :)

Posted by Honey :: 7:57 AM :: 5 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Monday, August 14, 2006

Back to Normal

Normal as it gets around here, anyway.

The family left yesterday afternoon for their 14-hour trip home. They're doing it the smart way this time, split up into two days instead of a marathon one-day drive.

Some highlights of their visit:
Mini-me thinks it's fun to poke me in the side and watch me squeal like a pig. When Mr. Honey learned of this new favorite game, he demonstrated on me in front of her what to do the next time she poked me. She stood there giggling like, well, like me, while Mr. Honey grabbed my wrist, twisted my arm, bent my body in half and left my head dangling close to the ground while I shouted, "Uncle, uncle," leaving me to wonder how it was that she got to enjoy both poking me and watching Mr. Honey demonstrate Tae-Sool-Jujitsu on me.

I discovered those puppy pictures Mom sent while torturing me last week weren't the real puppies. They were just random internet search puppies. Maybe next week I'll send her random baby pictures from the internet and tell her they're her grandchildren that she'll never get to meet because she's the devil.

Dyslexi-speak struck again, this time in the middle of a story about a tub of lard. Take note: in addition to toin cosses (coin tosses), we now need a Honey's dictionary entry for blushing gud (gushing blood) and tard of lub (tub of lard).

When Grandma loses her hearing aid, check and make sure it's not in her ear before searching the garbage piece by piece. (I learned this courtesy of Mini-me, who dug through my garbage while I was at work Friday morning.)

In order to make diet coke and mentos explode correctly, it's important to have the proper device to drop the mentos into the diet coke. Use fresh diet coke. Let someone else drop the mentos into the bottle.

If you go to Stone Cold Creamery in the midst of a drought, it will rain, but only on Stone Cold Creamery, and only while you're inside the building. This makes a serious case for opening a Cold Stone Creamery in my back yard. Either that, or I need to learn better how to harness my powers of weather control.

I'm sure I learned other lessons over the course of the weekend, but I'm too busy recovering from it to remember what those lessons might be.

Happy Monday!

Posted by Honey :: 10:12 AM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Friday, August 11, 2006

Friday Folly

Mom, Grandma, and Mini-Me arrived safe and sound last night at 9:45 PM. Then we talked until 10:45 PM, at which point everyone in the house collapsed into exhausted heaps. All is well with the family - Mini-Me loves me, Mom was glad to finally arrive, and poor Grandma was beat from their 14-hour drive. I can imagine - I get tired just thinking about it.

This morning at 5:30 AM, Mr. Honey and I awoke to the sound of my cell phone vibrating in my purse. He jumped up and answered it while I mumbled, "Must be a wrong call." Turned out it was a friend of ours. She's been putting in 12+ hour days to get ready for a big project, and she had to report into the office this morning at 3:00 AM. Since we live right around the corner, whereas she lives across town, when she got a chance for an hour's break, she called us up to see if we had a place she could take a brief early-morning nap before heading back into the office.

Here's where it got tricky. We have one guest bed, and Mom and Grandma are sleeping on it. Mini-Me's on the couch. We've got a couple air mattresses, but taking time to blow them up and find sheets and blankets and pillows would be wasting precious sleep time. Since Mr. Honey's usually up at 5:30 AM anyway, and it doesn't kill me to get up early once in a while, the logical answer to our dilemma was to give her our bed. And that's exactly where she was, passed out cold, when I left for work this morning. Mr. Honey's going to wake her up when it's time for her to return to the office.

So then I started thinking. My mother, grandmother, and sister were all sleeping when our friend showed up. Wouldn't it be funny if they all woke up and found a strange woman in my bedroom with my husband? I think it's hysterical. Oh, the possibilities of a misunderstanding... Or maybe it's just that not quite enough sleep has tickled my brain in new and interesting ways.

On a side note, getting up this early and having a window office has a distinct advantage over sleeping in with a non-window office. I'm watching the most gorgeous pink sunset right now. :)

On another side note, I finished Jill Shalvis' Aussie Rules last night. What a great book! I loved the characters, the plot line, the conflict, the airplanes, everything. Now I've got about 10 more of her books on my Amazon wish list. :) Is it Christmas yet? I'd buy more myself, but with all the books I brought home from Nationals, Mr. Honey would kill me if I took a trip to the bookstore. (Wonder if he'll pop in here and contradict that?)

Happy Friday! Enjoy your weekend, everybody.

Posted by Honey :: 6:40 AM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Thursday Salute

Mr. Honey and I had dinner last night with three friends whose husbands are currently serving our country overseas, and the topic of conversation at one point turned to patriotic songs. One of my friends quoted lyrics from a song I haven't heard yet. It's a country song, performed by Darryl Worley. Just as my friend's little daughter touched my heart, praying that all their daddies are safe, and that her daddy would be proud of her for being a big girl with all she's doing in school, the song lyrics also brought tears to most of our eyes.

For our men and women away from family and friends...

Pow 369

(Written by Stephen Dale Jones, performed by Darryl Worley)


I was flying down the highway
Weaving in and out of traffic
I was racing time
An old man pulled out in front of me
And I went crazy as can be
I lost my mind
I blew my horn till I got close enough to see
And what was on his car-tag sure convicted me

POW 369
I should slaute you from this heart of mine
And thank you for placing your life on the line
For me, I'm free
I pray that the rest of your journey is a peaceful one
And may you take your own sweet time
Mr. POW 369

The things we take for granted
In this life we lead are tragic
We should be ashamed
He left his home and family
And cast his fate across the sea
Would we do the same
Well I sure bet he's got some stories he could tell
Ain't that many ever made it back from hell

POW 369
I should slaute you from this heart of mine
And thank you for placing your life on the line
For me, I'm free
I pray that the rest of your journey is a peaceful one
And may you take your own sweet time
Mr. POW 369
Let me thank you one more time
Mr. POW 369


Posted by Honey :: 7:58 AM :: 1 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Welcome to Sin

I am not the most well-read person in the world. With working 40 hours a week, having a fairly active social life (considering I'm in bed by 10 every night), and my writing, I haven't managed to carve out regular reading time like I should. Since Nationals, and even a little before, I've been trying harder to fit regular reading into my schedule. Especially since I brought home an outrageous number of new books from Nationals.

That said, I'm curious if any of my fellow contemporary romance readers have noticed the same trend that's caught my eye lately. If I'm noticing a trend, I'm either picking out just the right books to cause a trend on my shelves, or I'm late to the party and somebody's gonna be saying, "Well, duh, Honey, all the publisher spotlights at Nationals pointed that out," in the comment trail. :)

How many books have you read and/or noticed lately that have a town called "Mystery," "Sin," Temptation," etc.? Books where the town has character defined by its name. Think along the lines of Jennifer Crusie's Welcome to Temptation a few years back (which I thoroughly enjoyed, by the way).

In my admittedly limited experience, these books seem to have more than an identifying town name in common. Most have a town bible-beater or moral equivalent, a prominent citizen has a secret about a murder that it takes an outsider to solve, and each of the town residents are just a hair past quirky, making them more of a caricature than character. It's not a standard romance recipe, or is it?

I was discussing this with Mr. Honey this morning, and he pointed out that it almost sounded cliched. So it made me wonder. At what point does an idea go from original to cliche? We watched Casablanca a few weeks back, and there's one scene near the end where every line Humphrey Bogart says has now become a cliche for something or other. Was it cliched back then? Or was it new and original, just so darn catchy it was bounch to become cliched? Is this where towns of "Problem," "Secrets," and "Confusion" are bound to be categorized in a few short years? Or are they already there?

What do you think? Have you noticed trends in other genres that make you scratch your head and rethink your current wip? Or rethink which books you pick up on the bookshelf? Curious minds want to know. :)

Posted by Honey :: 7:37 AM :: 6 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Ugh

It's Tuesday, which is T-2.5 days until the family arrives. Mom is still torturing me with puppy talk, even snooping so low as to send pictures yesterday. But I've discovered the truth. She's torturing me because she's secretly harboring desires to adopt a new Kodi-dog for herself. Keep at it, Mini-me. She'll break. She can still travel once you're out of her house, even if she has a pup to take care of, because I know you and that other sister of ours will be happy to watch over the sweet angel for her while she and Dad are out of town.

Today being today also means that dreaded annual appointment has rolled around once again. No, not that appointment. I wouldn't subject you to those details. But I actually think this appointment today is worse than that appointment. Today, I go to the eye doctor.

I love my eye doctor. He makes sure my prescription is correct and even offers me cute little eye drops to help ease the pain of irritation caused by living in the south, where it's allergy season year-round. But does he have to render me incapable of doing anything for the rest of the day every time I see him? *sigh* I'm such a baby when it comes to getting my eyes dilated.

It's my own fault. Four years ago, I had my eyes dilated for the first time since I was in second grade. Then I went home and watched TV for 5 hours. Yeah, I know. Stupid. I've had my eyes dilated two more times since then, and last year's drive home convinced me to get a ride for this year's appointment. Yeah, I know again. Stupid. This year, I'm going to take a nap when I get home. I'll lay in bed and plot, coming up with both plausible and outrageous ideas. Then I'll promptly forget all of them and bang my head against the keyboard for not putting a notebook beside the bed.

Anyway, that's how my day's shaping up. How about you? Any interesting plans for this beautiful (hot) Tuesday?

Posted by Honey :: 7:33 AM :: 2 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Monday, August 07, 2006

Mexican Allergy?

I think I'm allergic to Mexican food. I had it for lunch today and it's causing the most distressing sort of side effect. No, wait, don't run away! That's not what I mean. I mean I've got the hiccups.

Have you ever had Mexican hiccups? It's like a normal hiccup, except you kinda taste chips and salsa along with them. Mine weren't caused by Mexican jumping beans, unless the waiter slipped a little something extra into my taco and rice.

I wouldn't have gone out for lunch today if it wasn't for the guest of honor - a man Mr. Honey has worked with for almost two years is moving, and today was his going-away lunch. I'd guesstimate 40 people showed up, which was fantastic. :) It's always nice to know you've had an impact on the people you work with. I wonder how many of them are suffering from the hiccups now?

Please excuse me now. I have to raid my desk drawer for my hiccup cure, which won't be easy to swallow on a stomach full of Mexican food. Does peanut butter mix well with tacos, rice, chips, and salsa? Guess I'm about to find out. :)

Posted by Honey :: 1:33 PM :: 3 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Friday, August 04, 2006

Evil Mothers

My mother is driving me crazy. (Yes, Mini-me, I know you'll probably tell her about this, but I don't care. It's true.)

Two nights ago, I was sitting at home, minding my own business, either writing or reading (I can't remember which but it had to be one of the two, since that's about all I've done this week), when My Mother called.

"Honey, I'm standing in Farm & Fleet, and they've got a sign up for Springer Spaniel puppies for sale," she says.

"That's nice," I say, thinking why is she telling me this? Why is she tempting me with something I obviously can't have if Mr. Honey and I are spending a month out of the country later this year?

"Want me to bring you one when we come visit next weekend?"

"No." Yes. No. Yes. DAMMIT, why can't my eight personalities agree on this?

"Are you sure? It won't be any trouble."

"Sorry, Mom, I gotta go. One of my neighbors just stopped by..."

Sixteen years ago, before Mini-Me came into the world, Mom & Dad brought home a little Springer Spaniel puppy for Easter. He was adorable, wrapped in a little Easter basket, and I got to hold him first because everyone in the family knew that as soon as my little sister, she-without-a-good-nickname-because-we're-too-old-for-me-to-call-her-a-brat-in-public, got her hands on him, nobody else would get to hold him for hours. We had another Springer Spaniel at the time, who would later leave the family when it was discovered that she and a four-year-old Mini-Me were incompatible, but we of course gave the most attention to the puppy for a while. His name was Kodi and he was the best dog I've ever had. It's been a year and a half since he went to heaven, and I still tear up thinking about him sometimes.

So all day yesterday, my mother emailed me, taunting me.
Mom: "You sure you don't want a puppy? I'll bring him down to you. It'll be no problem."
Me: "You're the devil."
Mom: "It'll be so much easier to train him on your tile floors than it will be when you get a house with carpet in a year."
Me: "GET BACK, SATAN!"
Mom: "I think it's a great idea for you to get a dog. Great training for children."
Me: "Mr. Honey's gonna kick your a$$."

And today it continues.
Mom: "Did I mention the puppies are related to Kodi?"
Me: "Waaaaahhhhh! I miss my Kodi!"
Mom: "Jeez, sorry, didn't mean to make you cry. So, you want a puppy? What's a good name for a manatee?"

I don't understand it all, but Mr. Honey's coworkers think we should get the puppy. And I think I've turned my mother to the dark side. She's writing erotic manatee stories now. (Okay, I made that up. But I'm sure Mini-me thinks it's funny. Right, Bubbles?)

Happy Weekend! I'll be fighting the forces of evil. What are you going to do?

Posted by Honey :: 10:14 AM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Such a Sneak

The people I work with don't know I went to the RWA conference last week. The ones that asked where I went, or how my vacation was, were told that I spent a lovely extended weekend with my girlfriends in Atlanta.

I won't even go into detail and fess up to the fact that all of the girlfriends I met are online friends that I had never met in person. Nor have I mentioned that Mr. Honey was also off on a trip of his own, attending the wedding of a friend of ours from back home. I'd hate for everyone to get the wrong idea, since the last person in my company who took vacation while her husband was out of town to meet up with an online friend actually ended up having a wild uninhibited week with the man she was seeing on the side.

The fun part is that I can't help but smiling all day long. Everyone thinks I've got a secret. And I do. It's just not what they think. I don't know what they think I'm smiling about, but I'm sure it's one of the following three things:
1. They think I got a new job and I'm just waiting to drop the bomb at the most inopportune time. (Er, not so much, though that does sound appealing from time to time)
2. They think I checked into a mental hospital to take care of the perpetual case of the Mondays that I developed back in mid-May. (Again, not so much, though time with the mini office voodoo doll courtesy of Kristen could probably be considered therapy)
3. They're on to me, and they know I'm just smiling to see how many people I can trick into thinking that I have a secret.

What's my real secret? That I finally found a place where I belonged, even if it only happens five days out of the year. But the better news is that there are regional writers conferences going on all the time. I don't have to wait until next year's National conference to get together with a bunch of writers again. We Alphabet Girls are even trying to plan a writing retreat. If it wasn't for random trips out of the country and those pesky holidays that take up the last two months of the year (plus January, when everyone's paying the bills from the holidays)... But anyway, thanks to a very therapeutic weekend, I'm still feeling like myself, rather than feeling like a deranged sociopath with homicidal feelings about the copy machine, despite working 4 days already this week. :) And that's not a secret.

Posted by Honey :: 8:48 PM :: 5 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I Lied



There is something interesting going on in my life. I'm trying to spill water all over myself.

When Mr. Honey was off on Mr. Honey's Grand Adventure while I was in Savannah and the RWA National conference, he snuck into an REI store. While at REI, he picked up a Splash guard, just like the one seen here.

The purpose of a splash guard is to prevent yourself from tipping your Nalgene bottle up too fast, thus causing a waterfall down the front of your shirt. As anyone who's ever met me knows, I have a problem with spilling water all over myself. It's a disease.

This morning, Mr. Honey very sweetly inserted my new splash guard into one of the two Nalgene bottles that I tote to work every morning. The other Nalgene bottle has a straw top, which also eliminates spillage. So, now I have two non-spilling, non-splashing water bottles.

Except when I went to grab the new splash guard protected Nalgene, I realized the splash guard wasn't positioned properly for my normal method of grabbing the bottle. So I did what any rational person would do - I attempted to remove the splash guard and re-insert it so it was facing "The Right Way" when I unscrewed the top of my bottle and took a drink.

Instead of everything working as I'd planned, I managed to push the splash guard INSIDE the full bottle of water. And water splashed all over me.

I still love my splash guard, Mr. Honey. I just think I might need a little training on how to use it.

Posted by Honey :: 12:42 PM :: 4 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------
August

It's August again. Hot, hot, hot. Dry, dry, dry. When I grow up, I'm going to live in a tropical location that has the same weather every day - perfect.

I don't have a lot to say here these days because my muse is speaking again, thanks to Nationals. The advice, Write the Damn Book, has stuck with me. So that's what I'm doing. Look for that word meter to move soon.

In other news, Mini-me has taken to blogging on blogspot. Maybe. I'm on her team. We're gonna get her links soon. :) And maybe she'll teach me how to adopt a virtual pet, since it seems my plans with Mr. Honey to adopt a couple kittens is on hold until next year.

Happy Wednesday!

Posted by Honey :: 10:03 AM :: 1 Comments:

Post a Comment

---------------------------------------