I guess I'm officially an adult: I closed on a house yesterday. I have my very own address. Excuse me while I squee.

--ZOMG keys!--

Ahem. It's small but well proportioned and just the right size for me. There is so much work to be done, but eventually it will look really nice, and be, you know, livable with actual appliances and furniture.

One of these days I'll have a painting party and you can all come. I'll have a reason to use the tiny grill. And for those of you who don't want to get your hands dirty, yes, I believe I'll have a housewarming party too Details to follow...sometime.

I'm excited. My bank account cries, and I'm sore already from lugging purchases and cleaning, but this is a good thing. An investment in my future--a life step, a part of the American Dream. Now all I have to do is write the Great American Novel and I can get out of debt. *wink wink*

Posted by Jen at 11:38 PM | Permalink |

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Overheard on the radio:

A giant is taking questions like: Are you really a giant? Is your wife a giant too?.

Then he gets this one: How does a giant celebrate the Fourth of July?

He says, "I have to get far away from the fireworks, or else I have to duck" (haha) "no, seriously, I love some hotdogs, some hamburgers, and a good mattress sale."

?! I don't even know what mattress store this commercial was for--I was too flabbergasted by the total non sequiteur.

Not so funny: RIP Farrah Fawcett and Jacko's in the hospital following a heart attack. Pop culture just took a major hit.

Posted by Jen at 4:20 PM | Permalink

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Since it is the day before a softball game and it's raining, I present to you a softball haiku:

softball--a dream that
never becomes realized
because it rains so

Last night I had a dream where I was a Transformer-like Eliza Dushku (yes, I was listening to the soundtrack to Transformers last night--why do you ask?) and I really wanted to read the as-yet unpublished manuscript of some famous author--dunno who. I could get anywhere I wanted because I was pretty and rich and then could, you know, transform to get out of there. So I go to this author's place, grab the manuscript, but the police come before I can leave. Thus, I run out of the house, throw the ms. in the air, become a car, and careen off, but the policeman shoots and knocks off the license plate. Since I am a bibliophile, after the policeman has given up the chase, all he finds is the piece of plate with part of a plastic plate protector. The partial plate says OO, and the plate protector says "ublic Lib"--get it? The plate reads BOOKS (or something similar) and the protector promotes some city's Public Library.

And then I told it all to Eliza Dushku, who was apparently at a garage sale with me. Go fig.

On a serious note: one of my favorite authors (and one who probably played a part in my wanting to be a fantasy author), David Eddings, passed away last night. He will be missed. I brought the first book in the Elenium, The Diamond Throne, with me to work to read in memoriam.

Posted by Jen at 9:47 AM | Permalink

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  The Diamond Throne, David Eddings
file under: books , dreams , getmoving , reallife

"The test of any good fiction is that you should care something for the characters; the good to succeed, the bad to fail. The trouble with most fiction is that you want them all to land in hell, together, as quickly as possible."

--Mark Twain

From the Wyrdsmith's blog.

I woke up yesterday with the conclusion of last year's NaNo nearly complete in my head, just before the alarm went off. So of course I had to wake myself up enough to write it down, so I wouldn't forget it. That story must get done!

Busy day today, which is good. Will take my mind off the issue in need of fingers crossed.

Posted by Jen at 10:09 AM | Permalink

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