A Novel Idea

Hello, my name is Tegwin

2008-07-14T08:07:00.000-07:00

Brangelina's kids have sparked a whole new round of baby name games. Most people are very particular about which names are beautiful and which are atrocious. I'm no different and baby naming is fascinating, so I've been clicking around online.

Visit this site; it is a hysterically funny compilation of actual posts on baby-naming boards. I could read it for hours.

My personal faves:
Tegwin
Acenzion (Ascension?)
Kellyna Nychole ("y"-ikes)
Tierrainney (Tyranny?)
Allikaylor
Elliot Ness (he's untouchable)

These were posted by actual people who were giving birth to real babies who are stuck with these names forever. And I've also got to gripe about parents giving kids moderately normal (albeit overused) names like Madison, except spelling them Madysyn or Maddisynne some other atrocious variation. This does not make the kid unique and she'll be correcting people the rest of her life. Give her a break, already!

My two cents: a clean, beautiful name lets a kid stand out on her own merit. Jane or Kate is going to be taken more seriously than Ambria Shailyn. Maybe I'm old-fashioned.

I have a double name that I love. It was unique as I was growing up, and also very Southern, but both of my names are extremely normal. Though now the double-name thing is growing in popularity, especially in my neck of the woods. I don't think I'm going the double-name route with my own kids; a family of double-namers is just a little too cute for my taste.

In case you're curious, here are our future baby name possibilities:
Amelia Jane (Amelia)
Vivian Charlotte (Vivi)
William Elliott (Will)

Boys' names are harder to come up with. And it's kind of silly, but the girls' middle names are two of my favorite authors. But I was discreet. (No J.K. Rowling Vollers here). The boy's name is my great-grandfather's.

P.S. I gotta admit: I have a secret love for the name Constance. I'd never name my daughter that but I like it anyway. What are some of your fav names or secretly favorite names?

Angelina stole my name

2008-07-13T21:32:00.001-07:00

Gah. Angelina Jolie & Brad Pitt stole my future baby's name. Their new twin girl is Vivienne Marcheline. Dang it!!!! JB and I wanted to possibly one day name a daughter Vivian and call her Vivi. I liked it because it's kind of old/retro without being boring or ugly (no Berthas here), sounds good with our last name, and it's kind of uncommon without being something silly and pretentious (no Cadyns either).

Then Brangelina had to go and probably make it popular. At least the spelling is different. But I thought of it first. If she takes Amelia I'm going to beat her butt.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2008-07-09T05:31:00.000-07:00

As promised, some pics from our trip to Colonial Williamsburg.

This is my very favorite. It rained throughout the entire fireworks show, which was somehow still amazing. It was fun being with thousands of rain-soaked people in a place dripping in history, celebrating our nation's birthday with faces turned up toward the rain, oohing and ahhing at a truly fabulous fireworks display.

Now back to the beginning. The fife and drum corps led a procession to the "capitol," where a group of actors representing all walks of colonial life recited the Declaration of Independence at noon on July 4.

JB, the patriot.

Why don't we wear hats anymore? I love hats.

The reason I'm holding this one on my head is, of course, because my head is too big for it. I have a giant head.

Then Jeff got arrested and put in the stocks. It was a wild and crazy weekend.

So I had to go and join the Mennonites.

Also, I wish everyone wore red capes. (Can you tell we had fun in the dress-up area? We were trying to kill time while it rained outside.)

And later, JB got lost in the maze at the Governor's Palace. He didn't seem too bummed about it.

Besides, the next day he got to be BFF with Patrick Henry.

And we saw cannon fire!

I learned how books were made back in the day at the printer's shop. I wonder if they do novels?

And then we acted like adults and did a wine tasting and tour at the Williamsburg Winery. And I discovered there is more to vino than just Chardonnay.

The End.

Attack of the Bad Grammar Fairy

2008-07-08T10:49:00.001-07:00

Just returned from a fab 3-day vacation to Williamsburg. JB and I got some adorable photos which I will post soon, along with a post-vacation analysis.

But I just have to vent for a moment on a very Eats-Shoots-and-Leaves moment I had last week.

I was in the library Wednesday evening, looking for a book to take on our trip (never mind that I've got three at home I haven't read that were early-reviewer copies sent to me through LibraryThing for the express purpose of being read and reviewed...). I picked up an interesting-looking historical mystery from the new books section, mostly because the cover looked similar to my beloved Deanna Raybourn books. Anyway, I opened this particular book to read the flap and...gah! Was that a misplaced modifier? In the book's synopsis? The synopsis that's supposed to get people to want to read the book? Really??

Yes, friends, it was. I reread it incredulously just to make sure I hadn't imagined it, snapped the book shut and replaced it immediately on the shelf. Then I felt just the smallest twinge of embarassment at my little display of complete grammar snobbery.

But seriously. There are loads of interesting books at my library and gazillions in the world, so why should I waste my time investigating one where the editor/author/agent had so little interest (or knowlege of grammar) that they all let a glaring error like that slip into the very paragraph designed to draw readers in? What kind of grammatical horrors await inside the book? I guess I'll never know.

I won't tell you the author or book title. Plus the author is apparently doing something right since she has published a series of books featuring one of my favorite real 19th-century authors as a sleuth (which bothers me on other levels, but I digress).

Here's the error, pulled straight from the synopsis. A name has been changed to protect the grammatically ignorant:

"With her future clouded by grief, Mr. Smith can’t help but notice the Queen is curiously preoccupied with the past."

This sentence makes no sense, until you realize it should read something like, "Mr. Smith can't help but notice that the Queen, her future clouded by grief, is curiously preoccupied with the past."

That, or Mr. Smith is transgender.

It irks me that the publishing industry supposedly has such high standards that keep it notoriously difficult to break into, yet lazy stuff like this happens once you've got a book deal. It makes me want to yell in a whiny and childish manner. If they'd give me a book deal, I'd never let stuff like that happen! I'd be conscientiously aware of how lucky I am and work hard make sure my book is near-perfect! At least, that's what I'd whine to any editor who would listen.

Not every author is expert at grammar and shouldn't really have to be, so most of the blame here is on the book's editor, I guess. And I don't think I'm being too harsh here; editing is what this editor Does For A Living.

Eh. It isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things. But I think I'm not out of line in expecting some grammatical excellence from the books I read, fluff or not.

don't date This Guy

2008-07-02T12:19:00.000-07:00

http://view.break.com/527579 - Watch more free videos

OMG. Hilarious. Backstory: a girl named Olga met this guy in San Fran and talked to him for a couple of minutes and gave him her card. This is the result.

Put a garden on the White House lawn

2008-07-02T10:27:00.000-07:00

Recently I've gotten more interested in the idea of a kitchen garden and the locavore movement. A locavore, as defined by the Wiktionary, is someone who tries to eat only locally-grown foods. Locavores don't necessarily grown their own food, but I'm sure lots of them do.

Every time this subject comes up in a news article or on a blog, I read it--it's fascinating, and kind of exciting, too. Some locavores are hard-core, eating only food grown within, say, 100 miles of their homes. I think that would be extremely difficult (olive oil, anyone? chocolate? coffee??) but the basic idea is fab. You can find much more detailed arguments on the Web for locavorism, but here are some in a nutshell:
--much of our food travels thousands and thousands of miles to get to our grocery stores, using tons of fuel and high-emission transport to get it there, harming the environment
--food is becoming more expensive
--chemical pesticides can be scary
--outside food has the potential to get tainted (tomatoes, anyone?)
--supporting local growers is good for our local economies and helps out our neighbors

I'm not approaching this as a raving, plant-hugging liberal, but as a right-leaning moderate who's finally (if slowly) coming to realize how much of an impact her choices have on the environment and her neighbors. Eating locally and/or planting a kitchen garden makes sense. And sounds fun.

JB and I go to our local farmer's market, which offers produce grown locally and also some harder-to-find-in-our-area produce that's grown regionally. We live in Alabama. Why get Washington apples at the grocery store when you can get Georgia apples at the farmer's market? Don't get me wrong; I still love my Publix as much as anyone. But visiting the farmer's market on Saturday mornings before our Sunday-evening grocery store runs is an easy way to buy local.

As an experiment, I tried growing herbs in a small section of our back yard this year. I raised most of them from seeds, and they promptly died soon after hitting the soil. Bummer. A big chunk of the problem are the gloriously huge trees that surround our house; it's shady all year long (which saves on heating/cooling bills!) but makes our yard not so garden-friendly. The other part of the problem is that I am bad at gardening.

Last weekend I salvaged what was left--two rosemary plants and a struggling bell pepper plant (bought on a whim to see if it would produce anything)--replanted them in pots and moved them to the sunnier front yard. I added two pots of basil bought at the nursery down the road. So we'll see how this goes. I probably won't be able to do a proper kitchen garden until we move into another house a few years from now. Double bummer.

An article on today's op-ed page of my local paper talked about a guy from Maine named Roger Doiron, who is trying to get the next president of the United States to dedicate a section of White House lawn to a kitchen garden.

It's a cool idea and it's not a new concept; presidents like John Adams and Franklin D. Roosevelt had White House lawn kitchen gardens. I signed the petition that'll get sent to the next president. If you want to sign, head on over to http://www.eatheview.org/.

I want to do some research to see just what's growing where I live. I know there's a semi-famous goat cheese maker in our part of the state. It's called Belle Chevre and it's supposed to be fabulous--these cheeses are sold across the country. (And it's here! In Alabama!) It even gets its goat milk from a goat farm just a few miles from its cheese-making buildings.

I have a feeling this kind of stuff is fashionable in other parts of the country. Eco-chic is big right now, and locavorism is the perfect one-upmanship opportunity. But trends are slower to reach my part of the country, and anyway locavorism just makes sense, fashionable or not. Plus it sounds exciting. And healthy. And fun. So sign me up.

good day

2008-07-01T08:22:00.001-07:00

Reasons why today is a good day:

1. Found out at WW last night that I've now lost 20 lbs since the end of March! yeehaw
2. This weekend is vacation trip to Williamsburg; it will be awesome. (and awesomely hot) (and extremely patriotic. At noon on Friday we're going to hear the Declaration of Independence read. I'm told there will be fifes, drums and cannon fire. I'm a sucker for cannon fire.)
3. I'm wearing a bright pink Isaac Mizrahi dress today that I got on sale at Target for $24. I added a preppy striped scarf-tie belt to cinch the waist and make it a little less Legally Blonde/My-Size Barbie. Gotta watch those things when you have blonde hair. But overall, a nice look. Plus I love pink.
4. During my morning run/walk/jog yesterday, I ran/jogged for 7 minutes straight, walked for a couple minutes and then ran/jogged for 7 more minutes straight! The rest of my run segments that morning were not so long, but this is an improvement over the past couple of weeks, for sure.
5. Discovered these shoes on the Anthropologie Web site. I'm smitten. I'd post a pic to prettify this blog entry but I can't get one to save to the computer. gah.

Parenting. Eh.

2008-06-26T14:27:00.000-07:00

Part of my day job makes it necessary for me to be up to speed on all things mommy. Which is funny because I don't have kids yet and quite enjoy this period of my life where I don't have them. So I play catchup on the Internet, reading articles and blogs and Web sites about anything related to raising little chillens. I guess it's also good practice for The Future.

At first, I was completely freaked out about all of the diseases and disorders that can affect a kid at every single stage of a mom's pregnancy and all the way through childhood. You would think, according to news reports, it's a miracle that any of us live to see 21. Apparently, anything you eat or do while pregnant can kill/maim your baby, and once she's born anything you say or do anywhere in her vicinity that doesn't kill/maim her will scar her for life and turn her into a raging psychopath.

This is not to make light of people who do have children with disabilities, but to highlight this fact: Reading too much on the Internet about something people take as seriously as parenting will scare the living daylights out of you.

Once I quit freaking out that my future children are going to be diagnosed with early-onset bipolar disorder at age 3 and jump out of windows or that I'm going to drink more than my allotted 8 oz of coffee a day and give my future baby brain damage, I got more selective in my reading.

And found the world of mommy bloggers.

Now, those of you without kids are thinking, 'wow, those must be some boring blogs.' And you would be 75% right. But the other 25%, the ones written by writers-who-happen-to-be-moms, are hysterical, or at least touching in a non-overly-sentimental way. (And BTW, the bloggers I encounter all seem to be located in the Pacific Northwest. Haven't found one from the South yet. I'm not sure why this is. It's not like we haven't discovered computers here.)

These are a few of my favs:
- Da Momma (she is funny and irreverent, though she's unfortunately going on temporary hiatus. She's also got a book, which looks perfect for moms who don't take themselves too seriously)

-Daring Young Mom

-Suburban Turmoil
-Baby On Bored
-The Parenting Post

While most of the stuff they write about is about 80% not relevant to me, good writing is still good writing and I like reading it. Plus if I do it at work, I can justify it as research.

On another note, I actually brought my laptop when I went on my Friday Morning Starbucks Run but, typically, left the house too late to have enough time at Starbucks to work on the novel. Plus there were a million people there ordering complicated drinks so it took a while to get my tall vanilla non-fat latte.

I do have high hopes for writing this weekend, though. My main characters have been stuck in the same underground secret lair for about two months, so it would be nice of me to let them out.

2008-06-24T11:21:00.000-07:00

I was late for work again this morning. At least I was less late than yesterday, but it's becoming a bad trend. The cuprit? My closet.

Yes, friends. I am a Girl With Nothing to Wear. You could argue that this is pretty much every girl. Ever. And you'd be right. But now, for me, it's a state of being that's reached disaster-like proportions in the last couple of weeks. (And yes, I know there are millions of people in other countries with nothing but the clothes on their backs and I have no right to complain and not to mention the poor in our own country and how could I be so self-absorbed? Bear with me. I like hyperbole.)

I spend at least 20 minutes in front of my closet each morning, trying stuff on and throwing it into a growing reject pile on my bed. The reason for this is something that on the surface is a good thing but is truly wreaking havoc on my wardrobe. I've now lost 19 lbs since the end of March.

I know. No reason for complaints. Except that although most of my clothes still technically fit, they're baggy in some places and wonky in others. They make me look schlumpy.

Add this to my now being able to fit in other random pieces of clothing from several years ago that I've inexplicably kept in my closet; they now fit but are kind of out of date. Not MC-Hammer-pants-out-of-date but more like lots-of-floral-A-line-skirts-out-of-date.

Oh, and I have no pants to wear to work.

Which is how, after trying on no less than eight tops and four skirts this morning, I ended up with the following winning ensemble:

-floral skirt that now fits but dates back to sophomore year of college

-white sleeveless cotton tank that also now fits, is older than skirt, and has a slightly visible stain on the front

-3/4-sleeved red wool cardigan partially buttoned (to cover the stain)

-tortoiseshell-colored heeled flipflops that I'm not entirely sure match the ensemble

(Here is a closeup of all three. Breathtaking, isn't it.)

Notice the cardigan is wool. Wool. In June in Alabama. I'm wearing it because something has to cover the stain, and that something needs to sort of match my skirt, and the only cardigan I own that even remotely matches said skirt is wool. Gah.

I don't want to go out and buy lots of stuff because I'm still many, many pounds away from my goal weight. I did buy some workout clothes this weekend, though, and they make me feel like I can kick butt all day long.

But alas, workout clothes and work clothes are two very different things. So I'm back to weird combinations and no work pants for the next several months.

I (heart) these blogs

2008-06-23T08:22:00.000-07:00

It's a slow Monday, which means I've been making the rounds of some of my favorite blogs. (See left-side bar for the blog roll of my favorite haunts.)

I realized the other day that the common thread here is that most of the blogs are by crafty, creative people:
-People who can digi-scrap glorious pages from their fabulous vacations.
-People who create complicated desserts from scratch involving fresh fruit bought from an idyllic farmer's market. Usually in Oregon.
-People who sew an entire dress in one day. From a homemade pattern.
-People who take coffee-table-book-worthy photos that make the most mundane things look beautiful.
-People who write fabulous novels, become published and famous. (that would be you, Deanna Raybourn)

(The rest are blogs that make fun of bad grammar. No really, they're funny. I promise.)

Some of these lovely ladies are my friends. Some are just fabulous internet bloggers I've stumbled across. Regardless, it's enough to make me sigh and wish I were that multi-talented.

I scrapbook...occasionally...and want to get into digi-scrapping. But Photoshop remains a mystery and actually, those online tutorials seem either intimidating or boring. And the sheer volume of information on how to digi-scrap is daunting.

I'd also like to be a fabulous photographer like my friend C. Her photos are amazing. Mine are...well, see this post for an example of my skills.

There are only so many hours in the day, people. I can't be fabulous at all things crafty. Or even most things. I adore looking at C's photos and Posie Gets Cosy's recipes and photos and general craftiness, but I can adore from afar and concentrate on getting better at what interests me most:

1. Writing. Specifically, my novel. It still remains nameless. And without recent activity.
2. Cooking. Specifically, baking. I adore cooking when I have time, though my recent conversion to Weight Watchers and my husband's apathy toward baked goods does cramp my efforts a bit.
3. Reading. Specifically, mysteries, historical novels and the classics. Am somewhat hindered by my addiction to glossy magazines. Darn you, Lucky Magazine!
4. Running. Specifically, training for the 5K in October. Currently running 3x per week, between 3-5 miles each run. Am not good yet, but seeing improvement!

And that's it. I don't need to feel like I have to run out and buy the Nikon 3000 or whatever it is, or take online digi-scrapping tutorials from Jessica Sprague or subscribe to Martha Stewart's magazine or furnish a new craft room through Pottery Barn:

(Although I would probably kill for this home office. Or even just that fabulous yellow chair.)

This concludes my pep talk to me and all you crafty wannabes out there. Cheesy sum-up advice: Find what you love, stick to that, and be happy admiring or enjoying everything else.

P.S.: Must brag on this. My limited design skills have been validated. I just learned that my sorority's alumnae newsletter, which I write, edit and design (I know, yikes), just won Best Newsletter for an Alumnae Chapter out of all my sorority's alumnae newsletters across America (and in Canada). Very exciting stuff. For some reason our Web site is down or I'd proudly post a link.

I want my own montage

2008-06-20T12:09:00.000-07:00

Getting in shape and getting better at running would be much easier if I could just experience it in an uplifting montage--like in the movies. And it only needs to last a minute or two.

I have it all planned out, actually. Scenes in slo-mo would fade in and out, showing me determinedly huffing and puffing in my spinning class, gritting my teeth as I lift! those! weights!, smiling smugly as I choose a salad from a dinner menu, lacing my sneakers in the misty early morning light. The culmination is an inspiring shot where I race across the finish line of a 5K, hands in the air like Rocky, as the music swells and my loved ones cheer me on from the sidelines.

That would be much nicer than actually going through all of it over a period of months instead of minutes. Because really, while I can see progress (fitting into size 12 jeans again, running for longer than 30 seconds at a time) it's still hard to keep the big picture in mind. I felt a sense of accomplishment this morning when I ran for a nearly six minute stretch and then for five minutes the next stretch; it's better than my average of three 1/2 minutes last week, but I still felt like my lungs were going to give out when I was done and I have to walk for a few (or several) minutes in between each time I run.

I know some girls who don't have gym memberships and don't obsess over their eating habits, but they're nevertheless able to run for a couple of miles, no problem. Like if someone asked them to go for a run, spur-of-the-moment, they could do it. I could never do that, at least not yet. Excuse me while I throw an improptu Pity Party for myself: Why is it harder for me? It sometimes feels depressing knowing that, for the rest of my life, if I ever stop working out or watching what I eat, I'll regress back to the weight I was before, possibly gain more, and then have to do this all over again. I'm 25 years old and I know my body isn't going to make weight loss any easier from here out.

But ok. The pity parties are usually short-lived affairs because my practical self nearly always reminds me: of all the things to have to fight for a lifetime, this one is easy. Like majorly easy. Other people have to deal with debilitating illnesses, cancer, abuse, mental illness and the list goes on. Plus there are hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of people who have a harder weight battle to fight than I do.

One of my favorite blogs is on glamour.com, called Margarita Shapes Up, where a fabulous Glamour staffer named Margarita is blogging daily about her weight loss journey. It's awesome and you should definitely check it out.

She posted earlier this week about the way society views overweight people, and how a new study at Yale found that discrimination against overweight people occurs more often than racial discrimination. Her post (and the article) is thought-provoking. It made me more aware of how I can look at or treat "fat" people (however unconsciously) like, well, losers. People with weight problems--like people with any other problems, from smoking to drug abuse--need support, not criticism.

Which I guess includes me not criticising myself. Maybe once I lose the weight and run that 5K I'll need to splice together my own Rocky-worthy montage. Now I'm taking recommendations for a theme song.

Guarding the turf

2008-06-19T11:05:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things to do on a gorgeous day is sit on my tiny front porch with something to drink and the newest issue of Southern Living. Our neighborhood is old--a particularly good example of the brilliance of 60s subdivision architecture (split-levels! ranches! one-car garages!)--but it is chock-full of huge, gorgeous trees so everything is calming and green.

I went home at lunch today and ate quickly, then spent the rest of my lunch break relaxing outside. I looked up from a travel article in the new July issue of Southern Living to witness my very own live soap opera: When Cats Come to Call. Luckily I had my camera phone with me, so here are a succession of shots depicting a short scene from this fascinating show. First, get to know the stars:

The Man: Orion, male, long-haired yellow tabby with blue collar, kind of wimpy (belongs to us)
The Woman: Momerath, female, fluffy calico, a diva (belongs to us)
The Neighbor: Sonny, male (?), short-haired yellow tabby with red harness-like collar, overly friendly (belongs to the neighbors)

Scene 1:

Orion is minding his own business on the front sidewalk at the house.

Scene 2:
Orion encounters a visitor in the shrubbery. It's Sonny, the Cat Who Won't Leave, from across the street.

"W-w-will you please leave?" Orion stammers. "I don't know you that well. And your cat harness is weird."

Scene 3:

"Don't make fun of the harness," says Sonny. "Not my idea. Plus, I like it here. So I'm going to intimidate you with my paw, which usually works."

Scene 4:

Momerath checks out the action from a distance.

"They're fighting like sissies. Am I going to have to go over there?" she wonders.

Scene 5:

Momerath shows Sonny who's boss around these parts.

"The cat I live with may be a sissy," she says, "but this ain't your yard, so scram."

Scene 6:

"Come on, Orion," Momerath says. "Let's go
chill in the grass over there. You can thank me later."

Progress Report: writing, C-; running, B+

2008-06-16T10:33:00.000-07:00

I know this is supposed to be a blog about writing. Where is the writing? you ask. Where's the frustration over plot points? The overzealous grammar talk? The misplaced red herrings? The suspects? The dead bodies? The murder weapons??

I share your frustration. I also would like to see all of these things back in the blog. The problem is...that I haven't done any writing recently. I know! How am I supposed to be a published novelist if I can't keep noveling on a regular schedule?

My (lame) excuse is that my time is otherwise occupied with the following: work (8 hrs out of the day!), sleep (7 hrs), hanging out with JB and/or being lazy(4-5 hrs), watching episodes of The Office (2+ hrs), running/workout (1 hr), cooking dinner (45 min).

Yeah...I can see where there would be some room for noveling in there. So another Novel Update is coming soon, I promise.

In other news, I ran for nearly a full eight minutes straight today! This morning's average was about 5ish minutes of running at a time, though. But it's a major accomplishment since I was running about 3 1/2 minutes average last week and not at all a few weeks before that. I've set as my goal a 5K in October. It benefits breast cancer research and has a fantastic atmosphere--extremely supportive, non-judgmental and really fun. I walked it last year and I'm determined to run it this year.

The main thing that gets me through my runs right now is my iPod. My playlist is pretty killer. It's got lots of alternative rock, which I finally realized is the only thing that really keeps me motivated. R&B? not so much. Country? Forget it. Although I do get pumped by cheesy girl-power pop from the mid-90s...

Here's a taste of what's on my workout playlist right now:

"Troublemaker", "Everybody Get Dangerous" -- Weezer
"Monkey Wrench", "Everlong" -- Foo Fighters
"Beat It" -- Fall Out Boy feat. John Mayer

"Guilty Pleasure" -- Cobra Starship

"Let's Dance to Joy Division" -- The Wombats

"Higher Ground", "Get on Top" -- Red Hot Chili Peppers

"Perfect Day" -- Hoku

"Cosmic Girl", "Canned Heat" -- Jamiroquai

"Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)" -- MIKA

"Watch Me Shine" -- Joanna Pacitti

I'd love to hear what you guys like and any pump-it-up suggestions!

P.S. Lance Armstrong came on my iPod at the end of my workout today and congratulated me for my longest workout yet--56:09. Thanks, Lance.

P.P.S. I wore a pair of my old size-12 jeans this weekend--and looked hott. Thanks, running.

Some running inspiration

2008-06-12T11:10:00.001-07:00

"Workouts are like brushing my teeth; I don't think about them, I just do them. The decision has already been made."
-- Patti Sue Plumer, U.S, Olympian

Man, would I love to get to that point in my mindset. Right now my basic philosophy is that if I miss one weekday, I'll backslide and start inventing new and creative excuses for not working out. (This philosophy developed from years of experience with that sort of thing.) So right now I'm just trying to spare myself the extra mental dialogue.

Secret weapons

2008-06-11T10:57:00.000-07:00

When I decide to do something, I tend to just go out and...do it. Like when I thought about joining Weight Watchers, I talked about it with a couple of friends/acquaintances who'd done it, and then attended my first meeting, all within a span of two weeks. It turned out to be a majorly good decision.

So when I thought about taking up running a couple of weeks ago, I did a little bit of internet research, shopped for running shoes, and now I'm running. Not very well yet...the term 'jogging' would be more accurate. Interspersed with lots of walking.

I don't say all this to brag. The real truth is that I'm just not good at waiting. I'm crazy impatient all the time.

Though I've only been running (jogging) about two weeks, I think it's something I'm going to stick with. And what makes it easy? My iPod. What makes it even easier? The adorable pink-and-white Nikes that sync with my iPod and tell me how far I've run, how long, how many calories I'm burning and my average speed.

The swooshes are pink. They match my pink iPod. I'm in love.

Nike is not paying me to endorse it. (Neither is WW, although I'm starting to think I need a commission from those people.) But the Nike+ technology, where you put a chip in the shoe and connect a little thingy to your iPod nano and it tells you all this stuff (while running!) is amazing. Then you can load it to nikerunning.com and see your progress. And make an adorable little Nike Mini avatar. See mine here.

Tiger Woods even came on my iPod Friday after my run (jog) and told me 'Congratulations, you've completed your fastest run yet!' Thanks, Tiger. You're sweet.

The real runners out there are smirking for sure. We don't need special Nike and iPod gadgets, they say. We don't need cute little dancing avatars. We don't need Tiger Woods.

Maybe not. But I say, whatever keeps me motivated and out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to jog/walk/run for an hour in the Alabama humidity is totally worth it. Need proof? I dropped two whole pounds last week. Boo-yah.

Recommended mystery

2008-05-08T11:41:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I finished The Virgin of Small Plains by Nancy Pickard. It was a Christmas gift (yeah I know) that I finally got around to reading—my glossy magazine habit has seriously eaten into my literature time—and absolutely loved it. It’s a mystery that takes place present-day in a small town in Kansas. It has a lot of elements I love: an old, unexplained murder; well-drawn cast of small-town characters; romance; suspense; weather-related disasters (two!); generational sins-of-the-fathers-type secrets; an elegantly drawn, utterly engrossing atmosphere.

In a nutshell, here’s the story: the bloody body of an unidentified young woman is found in the snow during a blizzard 17 years before the novel’s events take place. The small town rallied and buried her, but her death marked the beginning of a web of secrets and lies that quietly ripped apart three of the town’s most prominent families. The years pass, and a legend grows around the woman’s grave. Visitors and townspeople claim “the virgin” can heal and provide miracles to those who visit her. With the return of Mitch Newquist, who left town mysteriously the night the girl died and hasn’t been seen since, main character Abby begins investigating what exactly happed so long ago on a night that ruined her hopes and dreams for the future.

The atmosphere and the people reminded me a bit of Margaret Maron’s mysteries. You feel like you know everyone by the end of the book and the small-town values and mores are both a blessing and a curse for the residents living there. The story’s suspense will keep you turning pages and guessing as Pickard reveals what really happened bit by bit. There are a couple of sideline plots that seem extraneous at times, placed there to up the danger. Usually, I’m all for adding danger to a mystery, particularly in the final scenes, but these felt out of place.

All the same, I couldn’t put the book down and finished it in just a few days. It’s solid and it’s memorable and completely entertaining.

A teensy bit obsessed

2008-05-06T09:50:00.000-07:00

In a way, I wish I were one of those people who doesn't like reality shows. It seems more sophisticated to talk about the commedic timing of 30 Rock than to park yourself in front of the TV for American Idol every Tuesday and Wednesday night. Alas, the latter is me.

Idol has been on for seven seasons. I've never watched it before this year. I didn't get what the big deal was. But then the writer's strike happened, there weren't any more episodes of Pushing Daisies or Grey's Anatomy and so I tuned in. And got hooked.

And now I'm...well, I'm kind of obsessed. I've seen nearly every episode of American Idol this season. I love music anyway, and there's something so engaging (and addictive) about seeing "live" performances and rooting for average joes and janes to become stars. Even if the judges do constantly use non-musical critiques by adding "-y" on the end of everything: "pitchy," "shouty". Yes, I'm talking to you, Simon Cowell.

There's been talk in the news about it losing some of its viewership this year. It's still the biggest show on TV and hasn't lost as many viewers as other shows like CSI. But I do think it could use more relevant mentors. Last week was Neil Diamond. Yeah. I don't know about you, but the first two things I think of when I hear his name are "Las Vegas" and "Bedazzled Leisure Suits." And I ADORE Dolly Parton (she was mentor a few weeks ago)--literally think she's practically a genius singer-songwriter--but even I'll admit most of her music isn't quite as relevant today for the masses. Andrew Lloyd Webber was fantastic a couple of weeks ago, but I get the limited appeal of Broadway. My inner theater geek absolutely jumped for joy when I heard he'd be on, and he was probably the most helpful mentor they've had this year. He'd actually be a good replacement for Simon if he ever left the show. But enough already of my Idol analysis. I could go on for pages.

So here's what you need to know, those of you who are smirking/eyerolling behind my back. The best two are David Cook and recently-booted Brooke White. You'll want to pay attention now because they'll be famous one day.

I've been a fan of David Cook since he did a rock-emo version of Lionel Richie's "Hello" several weeks ago. It was amazing. Check him out on iTunes and download "Bille Jean" and "You'll Always Be My Baby." That's right. He covered a super girly Mariah Carey song and made it awesome. Gotta love that kind of risky choice. Basically all of his songs are good, but try those two first--definitely worth $2. This time next year he'll be crazy famous.

My other favorite, Brooke White, got booted off last week--aaarghh. I understand why, but it doesn't make it better. She's a fabulous musician but not totally comfortable on stage yet. She's got a whole Carly Simon-Sheryl Crow thing going on and looks like the kind of girl you'd want to be best friends with. Get Brooke's "Let it Be" and "You're So Vain."

My favorite places on the Web for all the latest Idol info are Entertainment Weekly, MTV and People.

On a side note, I lost 5 lbs last week. Yeah. 5 POUNDS!! I used to think Weight Watchers was for little old ladies, but now I'm a believer.

Novel Update

2008-04-21T19:46:00.001-07:00

Word Count: 59,667
Internet searches on the Confederate Flag: 1. I actually forgot whether the X was red or blue. It's blue. I'm not a Yankee, I swear.
Mathmatical calculations: 5 or 6...at least. (Ex.: if two people are descending a gently sloping tunnel at the rate of approximately 1 mile per fifteen minutes, how deep underground would they be after three mintues? How many feet would someone fall who is trapped in a dumbwaiter on the second floor of an old building that also has a basement--if the rope broke?)
Confusion level (my own), on a scale of 10: 11. I am having major difficulty remembering what the main characters know and what they don't at each part of the plot.
# of times I've gotten distracted by creepy-weird Russian sci-fi movie JB is watching: 22
# of unnattractive Russian people in movie: at least 13

Addendum:
I just have to boast. I'll do it quickly. I've joined Weight Watchers (which is actually not full of little old ladies like I previously thought) and have lost 6.6 lbs in three weeks! Won't tell you my actual weight right now but suffice to say that I haven't seen this number on the scale in a while--a great feeling!

2008-04-13T17:57:00.000-07:00

Can you see my excitement?? This is me with Coach Tommy Tuberville, head football coach of the World's Greatest Football Team in the History of Everything, the AUBURN TIGERS. The Auburn Tigers athletically represent the World's Greatest University in the History of Everything (and my alma mater), AUBURN UNIVERSITY.

Tommy T. was visiting the office to speak at the retirement party for our longtime sports editor. He couldn't have been nicer.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I've been an Auburn Fan since birth. Auburn is one of the greatest places in the world and I had a fantastic four years there. A list of some family members who are also alums: JB, Mom, Dad, sister Katie, aunt, uncle, assorted cousins, JB's sister, the list goes on...I can tell you truthfully that I wasn't pressured to go there (Mom and Dad encouraged me to look at other schools, too) but when you're exposed to greatness at an early age, how can you seriously consider going elsewhere?

On the day of the photo, my friend from the cube across from mine (who is an Alabama fan, although a nice one) walked over, saying, "You know Tommy Tuberville is in the hallway outside, right?" Later I would be mercilessly teased by coworkers for the rapidity with which I leaped from my chair and dashed through the entire office to the hallway. Let them laugh. I got to meet Tubby for the first time, and though he probably thought I was a crazy person for the breathless way I told him how excited I was to meet him, and that I was an Auburn grad, and so was my mom, dad, sister, aunt, uncle, cousins, and did I mention I was so excited to meet him...he was super nice and posed for a photo--and even put his arm around my shoulders!

In addition to being a great public speaker, a great coach, placing a high importance on academics (the Tigers have a super-high graduation rate among his players) and being apparently a perfect gentleman, he has led Auburn to beat our archnemesis Alabama SIX TIMES IN A ROW. While the other qualities I mentioned are undoubtedly more important than this, I have to say that the bragging rights are priceless.

And may I just say, that if Alabama head coach Nick Saban were to walk into my office building, the staff's Alabama fans (they are legion) would almost certainly kiss his pinky finger and bow down in worship. Don't deny it, Bama fans. We all know you would.

2008-03-26T19:04:00.000-07:00

This is the literary quote of the day on my Google homepage, which seemed appropriate considering my most recent post:

"The research is the easiest. The outline is the most fun. The first draft is the hardest, because every word of the outline has to be fleshed out. The rewrite is very satisfying."
--Ken Follett, British novelist

I've been wanting to read Follett's newest book, World Without End. But its ginormous size is daunting at the moment. I've got books I received for Christmas I still haven't finished. Add that to my magazine junkie habit, and there is just way too much reading material in my house. Too many choices. Literature or People StyleWatch...ermm....

Novel Update--Breaking & Entering Edition

2008-03-25T18:34:00.001-07:00

I was reading Deanna Raybourn's blog today, and one of her posts was about her writing methods. It inspired me to get off my lazy butt and work on my novel tonight. I just cranked out about four pages (wahoo!) so it's time for another Novel Update:

Word Count: 58,958
Major plot devices borrowed from Nancy Drew: at least 3 (hiding in dumbwaiter, discovering secret underground lair, nearly getting killed by unknown sinister vehicle)
Instances of breaking and entering: 4
Internet searches on lockpicking kits: 2
Number of years I've secretly wanted a lockpicking kit: 15

My biggest problem--the reason I'm so slow at writing--is that it's nearly impossible for me to shut off my internal editor. I've suspected for a while now that I'm a better editor than writer; taking something raw and shaping it into something cohesive, coherent and elegant is thrilling. Pulling words out of my brain from scratch usually feels like pulling taffy--slow and tedious. And when I write two or three sentences, I immediately go back over them and change a comma here, a word choice there, until I'm satisfied and move on. It's no wonder I'm an excruciatingly slow writer. Even writing articles for my newspaper job is easier, because I already have the raw material to work with--the interviews, the research. I get to piece it all together like a puzzle and polish it until it shines.

I have a notebook full of everything I need for my novel: character lists, maps, plot points, motivations, research, etc. I was looking through my original plot point list a few days ago and realized my novel now only bears a basic resemblence to the one I originally envisioned. I rediscovered ideas that I'd forgotten--good ideas that I'm not sure I'll be able to use now.

I'm in the middle of adding a scene I'd forgotten to include: my heroine and her guyfriend/future-love-interest are breaking into the secret underground HQ of the sinister secret society. Thus the need for a lockpicking kit. I did find out that kits aren't actually that expensive (future Christmas present, anyone?). I'm planning to check YouTube for lockpicking how-to videos. I want my writing to be realistic, after all. And there's the added benefit of indulging my inner 10-year-old Nancy Drew wannabe.

Monday Monday

2008-03-24T12:35:00.001-07:00

The way to make Mondays brighter--cute shoes! These Mia pumps were my choice today. I got them last summer and I've been itching to pull them out again. Hope your Monday is stripey and bright!

More thoughts on Breck

2008-02-26T18:36:00.000-08:00

Though wildly fun, skiing is not what you'd call a relaxing vacation. But I did learn a few things about myself and the lovely sport of skiing while JB and I were in Breckenridge.

1. Skiing requires a lot of eqipment and lots of it is heavy.
Skis, ski boots, helmet (lots of people wear them now, I'm not really a giant dork), ski poles, goggles, parka, ski bib pants, cold gear underclothes, fleece jacket, gloves, HotHands, HotHands for feet, scarf/skimask/head cover. And the skis, ski boots, ski poles and helmet together weigh about 900 pounds. Every day we shlepped our gear back and forth, I longed for a sherpa.

2. Ski pants aren't sexy.

No woman who weighs more than 120 lbs is going to look good when everything you wear adds at least five inches to the circumference of your body. See above example of me. Strangely, men don't seem to have this problem. And apparently the only alternative are the skin-tight spandex ski pants. Which isn't really a solution at all.

3. I have a big head.
JB and I rented most of our equipment, including helmets. The lovely ski rental man tried three helmets on me before deciding I wore an Extra Large Helmet. JB, a man, wears a Large Helmet. And he does have a big head, but apparently mine is bigger. When we returned to the rental store the next day because my helmet didn't have the strap on the back that holds goggles in place, the man who got me another helmet checked mine and said: "Wow, you sure have a big head."

4. At first, skiing will make you feel like an idiot.
Trying for five full minutes to get my ski boots latched onto the skis while others zoomed around me is not exactly a confidence booster. Basically every thing you do will make you look clumsy. Luckily, it does get easier.

5. If I fall, I can't get up.
On the first day, on my first run, I fell down a large hill. I landed on my butt and literally could not get back up. I felt kind of like a beached sea lion. Then one of the mountain workers actually came by on a snowmobile and watched me flounder for a moment before asking if I needed help. I finally called "Yes!" and he hefted me back up while two other people who had been riding on the snowmobile's back section watched, smirking. Luckily just my pride was bruised. Oh, and I broke a ski pole.

6. Just because the little kids are doing it, doesn't mean you can, too.
If you had asked me a week ago how old children should be when they first start skiing, I would have guessed 10 years old. There were actual 5-year-olds on the Breck slopes. I know this because JB talked to one. And they're good. JB and I were waiting in line at the ski lift and a ski instructor with a group of little ski schoolers asked if they could cut in front of us. We said of course, and he said, "Don't worry about them getting on the lift; they ski the blues." As in blue slopes. The intermediate slopes. My mouth hung open because JB and I had been skiing nothing but the green slopes, which are the "easiest". Oh, and I had, about an hour before, been clipped in the leg by a ski lift chair when I couldnt' get out of the way fast enough. The bruise is pretty spectacular. Probably would have been worse if the ski lift operator guy hadn't jumped to intercept the chair before it knocked me on my butt.

7. Walking in ski boots is deathly uncomfortable.

8. My sense of balance is pretty good.
I think balance makes me better at skiing than I am at other sports. And that's a big confidence booster. Can't wait to go again next year. Maybe then I'll get the courage to hit the blues.

Beautiful Breck

2008-02-26T10:02:00.000-08:00

Just got back Sunday from a week in Breckenridge, Colo.! JB and I skiied our hearts out--normally I'm not that great at sports, but this is one that I actually get. I think it has something to do with balance, maybe? Anyway, not much time to write at the moment, but I just downloaded lots of our fabulous pics of the trip and thought I'd post a few here.

JB and me scoping out Peak 8 before we skiied it the next day.

JB and me on the Peak 9 green slope. We were standing side by side, but I started sliding backward (typical) as the picture was being taken, hence my demented stance.

The Allaire Timbers Inn, the lovely, marvelous B&B where we stayed! All the buildings in Breck were decked out in Christmas lights. Oh and it snowed nearly every day we were there!

Can't Keep 'Silent'

2008-02-18T18:57:00.000-08:00

I just received a comment about my blog-on-the-go green shoes post from "Deanna". I don't know a Deanna other than...dare I hope, the amazing author Deanna Raybourn! ::squeal of excitement!::

She's the author of historical novel Silent in the Grave, and the new sequel Silent in the Sanctuary, both featuring the fabulous Lady Julia Gray. I reviewed Silent in the Grave about a year ago, just after it came out. I LOVED it. It was the mystery novel I'd been waiting for: well-written, endlessly entertaining, main character I actually cared about, interesting historical context, complete lack of cheese or obviousness. Deanna Raybourn even mentioned my review in her blog!

I've been meaning to review Silent in the Sanctuary. I knew, from checking Raybourn's blog, that it would be out sometime early 2008 but I just happened to pass the Sam's book section in January (deja vu from last time) and there it was! I grabbed JB's hand, snatched a copy off the shelf and promptly read it in jew a few days.

I was completely thrilled to find that it was an "And Then There Were None"-esque mystery. The lots-of-people-trapped-in-a-house-and-one-of-them-is-a-murderer mystery is my absolute favorite kind of mystery. Lady Julia is snowed in at the family's sprawling, creepy estate home with a cast of characters both shady and innocent-seeming. There is a murder, of course, and attacks on innocent (?) relatives, and nobody can escape! Fabulous. Lady Julia's cousin is accused of the murder, but it seems less and less likely the cousin did it as Lady Julia tries to find the real murderer, catch a thief, investigate the nighttime wanderings of a castle ghost and locate a missing relative. Oh and did I mention she's being courted by a dashing Italian nobleman? While stealing passionate moments with darkly handsome Nicholas Brisbane--who has a secret of his own?? I know. You are probably itching to get to a bookstore right now. Oh, and there's an actual sword fight. The talking raven has returned. And there are gypsies.

I didn't guess the murderer until said murderer was revealed, and there's another plot twist I never saw coming. The Final Confrontation could have been a tad more dangerous, but that's my only beef. And it's a small beef.

I lent the book to my sister (who became a Raybourn fan after devouring my copy of Silent in the Grave in one day during a trip to Charleston) and to my mom. They both loved it, of course.

So there it is. Highly recommended. It's an old-fashioned whodunit in a wintry gothic setting with a surprisingly modern heroine and a good dose of romance. Couldn't ask for much more. Read it while it's still winter outside for full effect.

And one more reason to read Raybourn's books? She knows a fabulous pair of shoes when she sees them. My lovely green pointy-toed shoes are from DSW--my new favorite place for shoes since it opened in my hometown a few months ago.

Um, and my own novel? Well, let's just say outside forces have prevented me from, uh, getting any work done whatsoever. I'll try to be better, I promise.