So, a friend asked what I was reading lately, and i couldn’t really think of anything that blew me away.
So, what are you reading right now? What have you read lately that blew you away?
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So, a friend asked what I was reading lately, and i couldn’t really think of anything that blew me away.
So, what are you reading right now? What have you read lately that blew you away?
In case you miss us a little, in your Fat Tire stupor. . . things have been a little like this:
But mostly like this:
We miss you, too.
I put my half-marathon race report up on Metroblogging Atlanta. Not sure what to do with myself, now that i have no noveling and no race to train for. . . Todd would say that I have plenty of laundry to do.
I prefer bon-bons and Oprah.
I ran my first half-marathon on Thanksgiving. I wrote a novel. Not bad* for November. . . .

*I still haven’t finished my Christmas shopping. Okay, i haven’t even started my Christmas shopping, unless you count snowglobes from the Dollar Tree. Also, my novel is complete crap and it is non-fiction crap, at that.
I know i have been missing in action during most of November. I attribute this to a)NanoWriMO b)Half-marathon training and c) family sickness.
So, i have about 2000 words left on NaNo today. I finished the half on Thursday. This may not seem like much until you drive to Chamblee Marta station (the approximate starting line) and then drive down Ptree Industrial until it turns into Peachtree, and then follow that all the way to downtown Atlanta and then over to Turner Field. Yes, I ran from Chamblee to Turner Field and people, that is a long-ass way.
I am proud of myself for finishing what I started out to do. Sometimes I am not that great with follow-through.
So, writing Nano today and driving back from Auburn to Atlanta. It will be nice to be home.
p.s. Congratulations to all you Tech and Bama fuckers.
My latest Metroblogging Atlanta post is up as of today. Check it out and give me all your sage advice on running the Thanksgiving Half Marathon. Because I am a little nervous. I admit it.
Although the calories I can conceivably take in afterwards without guilt do give me a little courage. Three words: “Mama’s Mashed Potatoes.”
And as an update: Nano is going well, although I am going to be driving right down to the wire.
I live vicariously through my daughter’s hair. Yes, you heard me right.
I have long bemoaned the curse of the curl, that never allows me to have bangs or cute bobs, or even a decent Dorothy Hamill growing up. But now i have a Tiller! A straight-haired, sharp-cut banged Tiller! In the bob that I wanted in 6th grade. (Instead I ended up with what some still refer to as “The ET.”)
I give you Tiller (front and side views):
Well, I fell off the wagon a few days this week, but find that when I sit down to write, I am pretty damn fast at cranking this stuff out. I am at 32475, i think. Plenty of time left to meet my goal, and I honestly think this is going to go over 50,000 words.
I am so glad that i started this. It has given me a confidence that I have not had before.
And now I am going to go out and have fun tonight with people from high school – Very strange! And not embarrassing at all that i blogged about wanting to have sex with one of them in the middle of homeroom! Or that his fiance is coming! Or that Natalie might wear some ridiculous ensemble involving a hooker heels, egged on by Carrie, with Camille laughing all the while. I am sure there is little chance of the Roswell Police being called on us.
I am sure i will feel wonderful in the morning, just in time to go to a cookout with more high school people! Go Creekers!
Facebook is weird.
Oh, and i have a date on Sunday. With Edward. He’s very mature.
This morning, I heard Todd and Rollie talking about one of Rollie’s paintings from school. We get about three per week. They are . . . interesting. I didn’t hear the whole conversation, but Todd came in with eyebrows raised, looking a little speechless, then asked if I had overheard what they were discussing.
“Rollie, come in here and show Mama your painting from school,” Todd said, staring at me eyes wide and unblinking.
“Look, Mama!” Rollie said, holding up the painting.
I could not discern what he was portraying in the painting. I was scared to ask what it was.
Todd said, “Tell Mama the name of the painting, Rollie,” keeping his voice calm and level, and somehow free of laughter.
Rollie beamed at me, holding it up higher for me to see.
“It’s Rollie’s Blood Monster!”