Elvis, Elves, and Chocolate Chip Cannoli

If You're Ever Up This Way...

2009-11-04T07:27:00.009-05:00

Have I got a place for you to stay.

But I digress. As usual.

A few weeks ago, Hubby and I celebrated yet another wedding anniversary.

*bowing*

I know, I know. Can you believe it? I mean, he still cleans the bathroom for me AND he didn't kick me to the curb at all for stealing his Milano cookies. Not once, this entire year, and let me just say, I stole A LOT of his cookies. He's a good man, my Hubby.

But I'll be honest and say I was sort of blah about the whole thing. I was just getting over being sick and life was just being life. (You should interpret that as meaning my life=sucktastic.)

So Hubby, trying to be my ever thoughtful Hubby, said "Well, where would you like to go. We'll go anywhere you want."

Well, that was easy. The ocean. I wanted to go to the beach.

It's quiet this time of year, empty of tourists, and breathtakingly beautiful. I wanted to go there.

He found the perfect place to stay--but again, more on that later.

A nor-easter had blown in to the south of us the night before we left. The resulting waves were spectacular. They pounded into the concrete walls and showered down onto the street.

We walked and walked and contemplated why the seagulls were so damn huge. As in freakishly huge. (Mayhaps the Seabrook Nuclear Power Plant? Just saying.)

We also contemplated the cruelty of others.

Poor Paddington. He's an innocent bear. What did he ever do to deserve that?

The best part, however, was the inn Hubby booked us.

Are you ready for this? Really ready? Because it's that good...

He found an inn...that's also a bakery.

I know. That's exactly what I said, only with a few more expletives thrown in.

Told you he was good.

We strolled into the inn at check-in time, and I gasped and froze. The countertops were loaded with heaven. Brownies and cookies and candy. As far as the eye could see.

I'd reached nirvana, I tell you.

Let me just say, you have not experienced life until you sit up in bed at eleven o'clock at night because you've been awoken by the smell of freshly baking made from scratch cookies. Cookies you did not have to bake and cookies you are allowed to eat--as much as you want, when you want.

No, you haven't.

So, if you're ever up this way-and I strongly suggest you do consider it--I know just the place to stay.

Go here.

Wait. That's not it. How did that happen?

Okay. This is it.

Wait. That's not it, either.

Okay. How about this?

No?

This? This? Or this?

Never mind. THIS is it. Welcome to the Arbor Inn. My only regret is I can't move in and stay.

And for the record, if anyone is looking for some holiday gift ideas for yours truly, I'd say you'd be really safe going with that Simply Sinful gift basket. Just, you know, in case you wanted to know.

Quote Of The Day:

Hubby and I are in the car, driving to the beach. I open my mom's card to us, which she'd told us contained our anniversary gift, and begin to read it outloud.

Me: The front says, "All the moments that have made all the memories--" and the inside says, "What a beautiful life you two have shared!"

Silence falls in the car.

Finally, Hubby speaks.

Hubby: Shared? As in, it's finally over? Really? I'm free? Now that's what I call an anniversary gift!

*For the record, my mom did pen in underneath "and are sharing." Apparently, she knows us too well.

Huh?

2009-10-27T16:16:00.010-04:00

Bob stepped off the bus yesterday, arms laden with an enormous topographical diorama. (No. I have no idea if that's what it's really called. It sounds good, though, and for the most part seems accurate.)

It was splendid. Awash with glitter and clay, streaked with vibrant shades of purple and red and green, all depicting volcanoes and mountains and deltas and on and on, it was breathtaking to beyond.

"Wow," I said, while secretly worrying where exactly one stores a ginormous topographical diorama long-term. "That's amazing."

Bob nodded. "Mmm-hmmm."

"I mean, it's really something."

He sighed and set it down on the kitchen island. "Yeah, I guess so."

(And please, for the record, let me just say it encompassed the entire kitchen island, plus a solid two-inch overhang.)

When Hubby got home later that night, he walked into the kitchen and froze.

"Wow," he finally said.

"You're being redundant," I said. "I've already covered that."

"It's...huge," he offered. "And...sparkly."

That it was. Very huge and very sparkly. But we're Bob's parents and it's our job to support his educational endeavors, so we gushed, extolled his creative abilities, and praised him to the heavens at dinner.

"I'm impressed," Hubby said. "That's quite the project you brought home."

"Yeah, it is," Bob said. "It was really heavy too."

"It must have been a lot of work."

"I guess," Bob said.

"How long does something like that take to create?" I asked. And I was really curious, because given the size of that sucker and the amount of glitter now littering my kitchen floor, I was thinking it had to have taken months, and at least a vat of glitter.

"No idea," Bob said.

Hubby and I stared at him. No idea? What was he talking about?

"How can you have no idea?" Hubby asked.

Bob shrugged. "It's not mine. Some girl on the bus asked me if I wanted it, so I said yeah, why not, and took it home."

So, yeah, I saw the light. Go figure.

2009-10-22T10:59:00.009-04:00

So I've been gone for a while. And trust me when I say it wasn't pretty. It seems I have this whole allergy-asthma-being-a-really-poor-patient thing I wasn't able to control so well, so I got sick.

Like really sick.

Again.

Anyway, apparently one of my main allergens is pine trees. And kookily enough, we just happen to live in the shadows of a scary pine forest. As in hundreds of huge nasty ugly pine trees that fall on my house during ice storms (or when someone coughs or plays the t.v. too loud)and make me sniffle and cry and leave nasty messages on my mom's answering machine about how much I hate this house and go on antibiotics for months at a time kind of pine trees.

It's been two years since I've seen daylight, I swear.

I mean, when bats bump into your house because it's too dark for even them...well, you have a problem.

But then, I should probably say I HAD a problem--because a miracle has happened. Brandon The Logger came on Monday, and with only his brawn and trusty chain saw, he freed me from the foresty hell I've resided in. And now, three days and two hundred and twelve trees later, I am one with the sunlight.

Brandon kicks ass. What more can I say?

Quote of the day:

Me (on phone): Mom! Brandon just finished, and you won't believe it! I actually have sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. Actual, real sunlight! It exists and I can see it!

My Mom: Oh, honey. I'm so happy for you. That's great.

My Dad (yelling, in the background): What's so great?

My Mom: Hold on. It's Kelley. She saw light.

My Dad (still yelling, still in the background): Kelley? She saw the light? Well, thank god. How the hell did that finally happen?

My Mom: For pete's sake, not that light.

Me (snorting): Please. Like that's ever gonna happen.

And more good news!

Not only did I play a Haunted House scratch ticket and win two dollars (thank you, thank you very much), BUT my screenplay for Seriously Serendipity placed with an Honorable Mention in the Writer's Digest 78th Writing Competition in the Movie Script category.

And even better news!

This. Congratulations, Linda! Another beautiful poem.

*sigh*

Life is good today.

For the record...

2009-07-22T08:55:00.003-04:00

I just want to say, my agent, he rocks. That is all.

We've Had A Change In Plans...

2009-06-30T10:05:00.003-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about dying lately. It's not my fault. I was recently discussing birthdays with a friend, and she pointed out it was going to happen whether I liked it or not. Her words stuck with me. They've been running through my head on some sort of loop. (It's almost like that one time, when I couldn't stop singing the "C is for Cookie" song over and over, until I was in tears. Yep. Sort of like that.)

So I've been thinking about dying, and then I find out my son's graduating high school next year.(I know, it's odd. You have a child in high school, common sense says there's a likelihood this will happen. I'm the first to admit my reaction is similar to getting pregnant, and then being shocked when you give birth. Yep. Sort of like that.) Regardless, it was always some vague maybe that would happen down the road, this graduation stuff.

You can't blame me. When you have a child who doesn't learn to ride a bike until he's a teenager, who still forgets his full name, and whose brain could hemorrhage at any second and steal tomorrow away from him, well, I don't know. You don't spend so much time thinking about down the roads. So yes, I was surprised.

I was a bit concerned, too. We've been working so hard on the now, we didn't think about tomorrow. Not daring. To dream, to hope, to plan. To get a life. And that's when it hit me--holy crap and damnnit all, I'm still going to die some day.

I'm quite cool with the dying part(as long as I don't have to come back. That whole reincarnation bleck makes me break out in a cold sweat. I'll be so mad if I find out it's true. Seriously. Pissed.)I think the secret is to die exhausted. You know, live full and hard, so when it comes, you're relieved because you desperately need a break already.

Of course, only part of this new death obsession of mine rests on my recent epiphany. The other is a project I'm finishing. Or more, come back to. It's an old book-in-progress made new, and yes, it has Elvis in it. And surprisingly enough, it's also about dying exhausted. What struck me, though, was if my characters (who, hello, aren't even real) can do it, well, why can't I? Die exhausted?

So. I'm making a list. And checking it twice. All the insane and kooky things I want do. (Yes. I want to see the world's biggest ball of yarn. And a two headed chicken. Sorry, but I do.) My son's graduating and moving on into his own life. So, it's time I started dreaming more about mine and getting exhausted.

Yes. You heard me right. I'm open and looking for ideas. And I'm setting out to fulfill them, every single one, which I'll share here with all of you. So, the blog's direction, it's changing a bit. :)I will post a starter list and tentative plans soon...

Well. Yeah.

2009-05-28T09:28:00.004-04:00

So I've spent the past eight days analyzing what's working and not working in four movies-to-be. They were each of them comedies and/or romantic comedies, and weirdly, they were each new drafts that were more dramedy than comedy, thus sharing as a group the predominate note of: make this funnier!

Apparently America wants to laugh (Can you blame it?)...

-From the amazing Billy Mernit's Living the Romantic Comedy blog. From his post to the publishing world's ears, I can only hope. American wants to laugh, indeed.

Another Productive Day At School...

2009-05-27T09:37:00.006-04:00

Last night, at dinner-

Me(to Bob, our 10-yr-old): So, how's the woodchuck report coming? Did you find anything online?

Bob: Yeah. Good stuff, too. Like, there's an alcoholic drink thing called Woodchuck Cider.

Hubby (snorts): And who says you don't learn useful stuff in school?

More Housekeeping...

2009-05-27T09:14:00.009-04:00

(It never ends, does it? Gah.)

The 6SV2 Anthology is out! Check it out here.

I hear Art Of Racing In The Rain is coming out in paperback, and its author Garth Stein is still on tour. Check it out here. (Yes, Mags. Look. He's coming to New Hampshire. Oh-oh. I see more sirens in our future.)

And the best news of all? House Resolution 1193 passed. What does this mean? Well, only that funds are finally going to be designated for the research of angiomas, amongst other big things. It's a major victory, and I can't tell you how ecstatic we are. Props to Senator Tom Udall of New Mexico, the genius voters of New Mexico for hiring him for the job, and most of all, our reps in the Senate. You can thank them here. I just did.

Housekeeping...

2009-05-27T08:36:00.010-04:00

I know, I know.

But there's LOTS going on, and I've been busy busy busy. I've missed you all, though. Vair much. But you're right--I've been terribly remiss.

So.

First, April and May are fortuitous months. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to all my favoritest peeps--Ethel, Linda, Stephen, and Frango-go. *smooch* Oh, and me! (Btw-my mom and the boys made me a zombie bunny head cake. Now that's love. Trying to find pics...)

Second, I received an award from Miss Mags. (Yes, I know, Mags. I'm way behind, I did admit it.)

Sophie Littlefield, who I adore and not only because she revealed she possesses a true appreciation for jug wine, (Don't know her? Yet? Well, you will.) gave it to Mags. Mags gave it to Linda and Frango and Ethel and Underpants and most ingeniusly, to me.

Well, I think it was most ingenius.

So anyway, I have it now. The Sisterhood Award. I suspect it was because I agreed to ship her some bunny head cake. I also told her she could borrow my mom because she makes bunny head cakes and Mags really really wanted a bunny head cake. But then, Mags has done so much for me, especially letting me forward her all my rejections, that I feel like I owe her--at the very least--my mom and her zombie bunny head cake. Frankly, I feel unworthy.

There are those definitely worthy, however. Like HL Dyer (who's smart and funny and has great hair and writes about flying sperm), Miss Daisy (who I adore because a girl could pee her pants just reading her blog AND she knows the cruel and constant manipulation all cat owners must endure), and Gillian (for she's so funny and talented and would probably let me convince her to run off to Vegas for a girl's weekend involving margaritas served up by myriad cabana boys), and The Closet Gymnast(because she's also taken up juggling in addition to cartwheels on the front lawn, though why is beyond me.) I couldn't ask for better people to be able to pass it on to-so I think they should all have a Sisterhood Award, too.

And speaking of worthy people. Mom. You get the biggest Sisterhood Award of them all. Oh, and Mags wants you for her own now. You have to bring the cake pan, though.

Too Cool...

2009-04-17T16:28:00.001-04:00

Check out the ecofont.

The planet thanks you.

Today...

2009-04-17T15:59:00.005-04:00

I took down the Christmas lights in the front window. I couldn't help myself. It's seventy degrees out and just beautiful, so I got a little crazy. I hope I wasn't too hasty...

Happiness...

2009-04-02T09:36:00.004-04:00

"There's just no accounting for happiness..."

From the poem "Happiness" which can be found in Otherwise by Jane Kenyon.

Because there's no better way to kick off April, the National Poetry Month, than with happiness.

And to celebrate the rest of the month, you can go here, for a daily dose of poetry.

Just Six Days...

2009-03-25T14:25:00.002-04:00

Check it out. Here.

or here:

Very Hungry Caterpillar Day!!!! Donations Needed...

2009-03-20T09:54:00.008-04:00

Let's celebrate, because today is Very Hungry Caterpillar Day-the day we mark the 40th anniversary of its publication. And why shouldn't we? Eric Carle's book is so wonderful...

So check out Google. Too cute.

And even better, head to Penquin's website to grab VHC wallpaper and screensavers. Love that.

Speaking of children's books--a member of my town's middle school is working to build a library for underprivileged children in her hometown of Papua, New Guinea. Donations are so needed. I just can't imagine a childhood without books. Every child deserves to be touched by their magic. Want to help out? Because I am...

Send books appropriate for children to:

Aimalu Primary School (Mararamu Village, Umboi Island), c/o Mr. George Lapu, P.O. Box 3410 LAE, Morobe Province, Papua New Guinea.

Happy first day of Spring, everyone. :)

Let's Celebrate...

2009-03-18T09:17:00.005-04:00

Today is National Lacy Oatmeal Cookie Day!!!

Yes, I know! So go! Be patriotic and eat oatmeal cookies... It's our civic duty, people...

Mind-boggling Yet Completely Useless FYI
March is also:

National Caffeine Awareness Month
National Celery Month
National Flour Month
National Frozen Food Month
National Noodle Month
National Nutrition Month
National Peanut Month
National Sauce Month

Quote of the Day

"The best way to turn on a woman: validate them."-reporter on CNBC Squawk Box.

Hanes vs. Thick-Skin

2009-03-11T10:58:00.008-04:00

Sometimes I wish I wrote Christian fiction so I could have queried literary agent Rachelle Gardner. It's just, she's so nice. You know?

Alas, I do not and cannot. *sigh* But I always read her blog, and so should you. Especially her most recent post about thick-skin. They're having a great discussion over there on whether people have it (the ability to tolerate criticism)or not, and how it affects you as a writer.

I have it. Quite literally. A few years ago, a doctor actually bent a scalpel while cutting into my upper back.

Nice. I know.

Anyway, my suspicion is being thick-skinned is way overrated. That I'd probably be a better writer and person if things didn't bounce off me quite so high and with the frequency that they do. Just saying.

Maybe the answer should be thick-skin isn't as important as possessing a good pair of big girl panties. Because it's inevitable (or should be). Things don't always bounce. Sometimes they seep in and they burn. And they make you cry. But the secret is those Hanes. No matter how much you hurt, you hike'em up and you go back out there. You don't let them see how you cried or that it stung. You just learn from it and stay strong and move on.

Maybe. :)

BRB

2009-02-24T17:33:00.003-05:00

I promise. It's just, I've been a little under the weather, a wee bit of pneumonia, and haven't been able to hang out with you all.

But have no fear. I have a brand new round of antibiotics, my trusty inhaler, and a glorious pill bottle full of nasty-tasting steroids. So I'll be back, soon.

I am in love...

2009-01-29T07:18:00.002-05:00

The Matchmaker of Perigord by Julia Stuart.

Go. Read it. You can come back and thank me after.

How To Keep Your Coffee Warm...

2009-01-26T17:15:00.002-05:00

on those lazy, winter weekend mornings:

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays...

2008-12-26T10:44:00.005-05:00

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
"It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes, or bags!"
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

-How The Grinch Stole Christmas! by Dr. Seuss

-Kelley, wishing you all a little bit more

Happy Hanukkah, Everyone!!

2008-12-22T20:07:00.003-05:00

Dear Santa...Again...But for the last time, I swear...

2008-12-18T15:47:00.015-05:00

Really. I'm not being unappreciative again, I promise. I can't tell you how excited I was to find our electricity was back on. Or, okay, maybe you do know. You can see everything and all that. Blah blah. But, look. I'm sorry I scared the one good neighbor we have so badly. I didn't know I was screaming that loudly. Or jumping up and down or running around freaking out.

I was excited, that's all.

(And that rumor about me paying off the utility crew is blatantly untrue. I only tried to bribe the guys fixing the poles down the road to come repair our street first. I never really got to bribe them. Sadly, they had morals and were too professional to name their price. Can I just say, though-what is the world coming to, really, when you can't even bribe people? All this upstandingedishness. Eesh.)

But anyway, the point I'm getting at is, well...Santa, there are 44,000 people in New Hampshire still without power. That's just NH, too, and hey, there's a pretty big storm coming tomorrow. Not to mention, the temperature is going down again.

So, thank you. I'm so grateful you came through for me, I can't tell you. Especially because I didn't exactly keep all my promises. But, if you could do this one last thing, I will. I'll really truly give up the chocolate M&M's and mocking my scary neighbor if you could help them out too? All 44,000. Okay? Cause it's mighty cold out there.

-Kelley, who turned on every light in her house, cranked her heat up to eighty, and danced around singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs just because she finally could.

P.S.

OH!!! Wait!!! I almost forgot!!! In case you had anything at all to do with it, I got the sweetest phone call today from the NYC RWA chapter when the phones finally turned on...and my book is a finalist in their 2008 contest and on its way to the final round. So, thanks Santa. Just, thank you. :)

Dear Santa...Take Two...

2008-12-17T06:49:00.004-05:00

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. Seriously. The generator that Hubby's coworker delivered yesterday afternoon was miraculous. (And fine, I embarrassed myself a little...or a lot... by kissing it, but can you blame me?)I mean, now we can run the furnace and only stumble out into the snow and gusty winds to fire it up about every six hours instead of three. So, I'm appreciative. But the thing was, when I said electricity I sort of meant...electricity. You know. From that whole pole/meter/guy in hard hat thing? Yeah. That's what I meant.

I'm getting desperate, Santa. Forget the neighbor's pajamas. I suspect you didn't buy my promises not to mock her. How about...and this is hard, I want you to know this, Santa...but I'll give up chocolate M&M's. For the most part.

So, please. Can I have some electricity for Christmas, pretty please????

-Kelley, who is now working her way toward day seven of no power and the complete loss of her sanity.

Dear Santa...

2008-12-16T10:01:00.004-05:00

All I want for Christmas is some electricity. Please. I'll be nice all year, I promise, I won't even make fun of my neighbor's pj's at all if I can just have this one wish.(Though, seriously, you should see what she's wearing when she goes out to start the generator. I mean, come on. But whatever, I'll stop if you insist.)And soon. Can I have it soon? Like today. Today would be really great.

kthxbai.

-Kelley, who's hoping, as we go into day 6 of no power and more snow expected tonight, that someone will come to New Hampshire's aid soon.

So...

2008-12-05T10:15:00.005-05:00

Apparently all my angsty writing drama is getting to Hubby.

I'd slunk into the bedroom after yet another late night of trying to meet deadlines and found Hubby still awake. But what was so surprising was that he was not only still awake, but he was engrossed in a t.v. show-something he never does.

I plopped myself down next to him, but he didn't stir.

"What are you watching," I asked.

But, he ignored me.

"Hello?" I tapped him on the shoulder. "I said, what are you watching?"

Slowly, he turned to me, his eyes glazed. "A really interesting documentary."

"On what?"

He stared at me. Finally he said, "It's about husbands who plotted to off their wives." He took a really long pause, but didn't stop staring at me. "It's . . . fascinating."

And then he turned back to the t.v.

Um. Okay.

Common sense says angsty drama over.

Books I'm Reading

Bonk. By Mary Roach, who is also the author of Stiff and Spook.

Yeah. I know. Envy.

Last Thing I Wrote Today

"You damn traitorous elf!"

Camille raised her fist, and before the security guard could stop her, nailed Jessica with a solid punch to the jaw, sending her flying. With a satisfying thud, she landed in a pile of fake snow, flat on her back under the North Pole side.

"Oh, boy." The little girl with pig-tails giggled. "Santa's going to be really mad at you this time."

Chocolate Consumed Today

Of course.

My Scary Neighbor's Pj's at the Bus Stop

In case you were worried, yes, the holidays are officially here. Pink fleece with candy canes tied with perky green bows.

*sigh*

Quote of the Day

Me: Bob, I just got an email from your teacher. She said she had to move your seat, that you and Madison were giggling and talking and being too disruptive. Care to explain?

Bob: I did it for you.

Me: Excuse me?

Bob: Yeah. I'm trying to be naughty. I figure Santa will bring me coal, and then I can give it to you and you can use it to help heat the house. So, see? I'm just doing it to help you and Dad.