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Archive for July, 2008
First things first: Yesterday, Crys PMed me from San Francisco, where she’s hanging out with a few hundred industry importants and authors galore. What had she done that day? She fondled Gena Showalter’s bum. On my behalf. Oh yes, there was some spanking by proxy to be had, and it was brought to you (of course) by the girls of TNG. She has promised me photos of future spankage, and this being Crys (and Gena) I believe her. And oh yes, Gena was well-aware it was really my hand doing the spanking, thankee much, which is why I am her #1 stalker-fangirl. I am a happy woman.
Of course, none of this makes up for the fact that I am here, and not there, but next year folks, I will be fondling the asses of famous authors for myself, and that makes this year bearable.
well, that and the RD Not Going to Conference Conference, which has us virtually fondling the bums of famous authors. Or at least, we’re picking their brains, which is better, no? Less likely to wind up with me in front of a judge, anyway, which is a Very Good Thing.
You may have noticed a distinct lack-of-snark today. Truth is, I’m just too tired to manage it. Kids were up through the night, and despite a nap, I’d really rather be sleeping right now.
Jul
30
Leave my Momi alone.
Helo TNG reeders. My name iz Ruby and my momi is Mel. She is the best momi ever and Im here to dufend her reputashun from the following rumerz.
1. Momi iz not responsible for Globul Warming. That wuz Al Goar. U wud no that if u watched the newz or red sumpin other than dirty blogz.
2. Momi did not kreeate 1-ply toilet paper. Her bottum iz extreemly delikate and therfor wud not be responsibul for sumpin so harsh.
3. Momi iz not so stoopid that she started the war in iRak. She iz a lurver not a fiter.
4. Momi can not help the awsumness of Twittr. It iz not hur fawlt u r a big twit. (Momi just told me u r not a twit but a twittrer. i stnd by my orijinul statmunt. twit.)
5. Momi iz definutly not responsibul for Vista. Hooevur started that rumer shud be shot.
Ther u hav it. My momi is a big bowl of awesum and u all shud be nice tu her.
First of all, it’s Mel’s fault. I’ll get to that momentarily.
Second, everybody is someplace else. I mean, half the universe is at RWA San Fran, which is why, if you nose around the blogosphere, you’ll notice that there probably five bloggers left in the entire writing community. We’ve been hoarded, bullied, and bribed into covering for all the people at RWA San Fran.
Now, originally I was supposed to blog about Finding Mr. Right and Romance. Ok. I found Mister Right-now-you’re-fine-but-don’t-push-it. I write Romance. Basically I write about him, only if I’d been the engineer on the original job. You know what I mean? Like, I write my hero in Ahmed-colors, but I brighten and sharpen them. And my heroes don’t bend over, grab their butt cheeks, rip a stanker, and run away shouting “run for your lives, it escaped!”
I’m just saying… Avon would most likely frown on that scene. Oh, it’s familiar… but not exactly mood setting in a good way, you know?
So I was fine with re-doing the whole concept, since Mel (and I did tell you this would be her fault, you will recall) started us off here on The Novelty Girls with snark and sarcasm. Swell. Great. Everybody is in San Fran except MEL, who is funnier than me. Perfect. Now I have to follow THAT.
So, thinking that my job was done and my Tuesday was typical, with the slight alteration of a missing man (he’s in Chicago for 10 days), I settled in to have a latte and some time to goof off. Then my phone rang. A very, very small voice said:
“Murgle ablah snrd.”
“Hello?” I replied.
“Argl.” *shufflebump thump* DIALTONE.
Okie dokie.
Back to goofing off. Then my phone rings again.
“Hello,” I say, with a great deal of hope in my heart.
“Christine?” (Nobody calls me Christine and I don’t recognize the voice or number but I’m game.)
It was Dayna Hart. I love Dayna Hart. I heart Dayna Hart. She’s a mom, btw. Which should give solid clues about the first call. And I’m completely mortified to learn she called my home number, got my mom, who is paranoid and weird, and told her there was “no Christine” at that location. Which was technically true, but a bit misleading. I was just somewhere else. And she is convinced that every call from a strange number, featuring a new voice, is a bill collector or the mob.
Ok. This is going someplace hysterical.
After a brief little chit-chat with Dayna-Hart-the-Hearted I agree that if I am going to follow Mel (and, again, let’s remember this is her fault) I will have to re-arrange some things and be snarky.
You know… this week I doubt that will be an issue. Because I am, yes, a writer of romance. And I am, yes, a woman in love. And I do, yes, belong to the wonderful writing community online. But this week my man is in the Windy City, probably stuck in a roadblock because he hit town the same time as Obama. And this week most of my go-to-girls are in San Francisco having a LOT more fun than me. And this week my mother has taken another trip to wackyville, but god love her, she’s sharing the crazy with everyone. There’s plenty to go around.
So yeah… I have to follow snark and pictures of girl-on-girl boob grabbing action. Great.
Yeah, it’s going to be one of those weeks. And it’s Mel’s fault. But then, it usually is.
I thought I really bonded with Crystal and RG last year. So how could they go to conference without me? SRSLY, so uncool.
Look, I even have photographic evidence. (photo credit to the lovely and talented Nic Montreuil. Love you, Miss You.)
First, Crystal gets me all worked up by groping me.
Then they whisk me of to a TRANNY BAR where they force me to sing a Pat Benatar song
and then ply me with alcohol until I think I am the inspiration behind ABBA’s Dancing Queen. And then they do their thing…together.
and now, they’ve gone off and left me. Alone. With their blog…
You can bet your sweet bippy I’ll have the last laugh.
First of all, I’m late, and I’m sorry. Seriously. Bad Mel, needs a spanking. I’m bending over right now for whoever wants to line up and give me licks. (I like it when they sting a little, just so you know…)
Yes, I forgot I was guest blogging today. I have the email that Crystal sent me but for some reason, I didn’t manage to post it on my calendar. I think I’ll just blame the booze and move on.
**Takes another gulp sip of wine**
You know what? I’m not moving on. I can’t believe those Damn Going to Conference Girls Novelty Girls think they can boss us, giving us a theme to write about and ’scheduling’ our posts just cuz we’re here and they’re there. At conference. Being all slutty writer-like and drunk networking. Whatever.
They ain’t here.
This is the Mel Show, bitches.
I’ll write what I wanna write. And I’ll be late if I wanna be late. So there.
Dayna and I have something special planned for Friday…so be afraid ready. Be very afraid ready.
Jul
27
In three more days, I’ll be hanging out with other authors and showing off my mad skilz as a pitcher. No, not baseball, books.
We’ll see if I can catch the attention of an editor or agent. But best of all, I’ll get to finally meet some of the other Novelty Girls in person. Wish me luck.
With that in mind, I give you this.
Jul
24
Ok, seriously I shouldn’t get to claim this as a post cause now that I’m here, I’m leaving again. 
Actually, I’m leaving in the morning for Savannah, Hilton Head Saturday, then to Jax to fly out on Wed. Less than a week till I get to schmooze with everyone in SF! I can’t wait. 
Today I’m getting tortured with packing though. 
The kids are staying in Savannah while I’m gone so not only am I dealing with my stuff, but theirs. They’re taking so much crap. Kill. Me. Now. So I’m off to finish what can be done tonight. See y’all next week!
Jul
22
Heading out tomorrow. My feelings can best be described in this YOUTUBE medley.
I’m Leaving On A Jet Plane
But Think of Me Fondly
And I’ll Be Back Soon
Cause I Dont Need Anything But You
Jul
21
Frankly, I’d rather go barefoot, but flat sandals are the way to go if I have to wear something
|
You are Flat Sandals |
 Casual yet flirty You look great in a simple top and jeans Your look is approachable and cute! |
So far, everyone has mentioned some of my favorite time wasters–Romance Divas, YouTube, The Movie Data Base. I can add a couple of more like Amazon.com, Blog Things, and IStock Photo.
But to be a true procrastinator, a talented time waster, it takes a very keen sense of avoidance and the ability to use ANYTHING to waste time.
In other words, when I’m supposed to be working on my pitch for the RWA Conference that starts in ten days, I’ll work on my work in progress, “Regaining Command” (the third in my “Command Series).
When I’m supposed to be promoting my upcoming book “Edge of the Storm” (sequel to “Heart of the Storm” coming out the first week in August) I’ll mess around with book trailers.
The trick to time wasting is to make it LOOK as if it applies to my career, but it’s not what I’m supposed to do. Luckily, I have author friends who call me on it (*cough* Lori *cough*) and remind me to “get ‘er done”.
Am I really the only one who does this?