The one movie I am really dying to see and it may not be released here. The martial arts biopic Ip Man - premiered in Hong Kong theaters last month but still no word of a US release date. It will probably only get released in DVD format here, which bums me out. But here is the trailer.
Ip Man is about the life story of Ip Man, the grandmaster of the Wing Chun style of kung fu and master of legendary kung fu superstar Bruce Lee. The film focuses on Ip's life during the 1930s to the 1940s during Second Sino-Japanese War. Ip shoots to fame when he defeats kung fu masters from the north in a nationwide wushu championship. Hundreds wanted to learn kung fu from him. When the Japanese occupies Foshan during the Sino-Japan war, Ip is forced to work as a coolie in a factory. He is also invited to fight in sparring matches for the enemy’s amusement. For example, one part of the movie shows a former Wushu Grandmaster forced to spar with the Japanese for a bag of rice. He is badly outnumbered and killed. In a similar match Ip shows his masterly skills, defeating his opponents despite being badly outnumbered. The movie looks like it is set up to show how kung fu helped lead Chinese resistance to the Japanese occupiers.
But I don't care about that, the reason I want to see this movie - besides the fact that the trailer looks awesome - is because, to quote my furry panda fan from Kung Fu panda "I love Kung Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!" Yeah, I do love my martial arts films.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Art of Taekkyon
First off, I snuck in a little time to write up a quick entry into Jason's awesome Clarity of Night competition. Mine is number 59. I shouldn't have because I am so behind on my revisions, but perhaps because I've been struggling, it was good to write something else for a change. So if you have a moment, please click over and let me know what you think!
On a different note, I want to introduce you all to something that most of you probably have never heard of. Taekkyon is an ancient martial art of Korea which is considered by many to be the predecessor of the modern Tae Kwon Do martial art. The history of Taekkyon is fascinating. It nearly died completely out during the Japanese occupation of Korea. The story goes that a crazed sword wielding Japanese soldier was killed by an unarmed Korean man using only taekkyon. The Japanese immediately outlawed the practice, stating that it was too deadly, and killing anyone associated with or continuing the teaching of taekkyon. After many years, the art was nearly forgotten until not that long ago, when an 80 year old man was seen practicing the movements and an ancient art was reborn.
Taekkyon is a major part of my Seven Kingdoms novel and now that my novel has a female protagonist, I get to show you what I envision she would look like. Here is a famous Korean taekkyon martial artist showing you the both the power and the beauty of this ancient art.
On a different note, I want to introduce you all to something that most of you probably have never heard of. Taekkyon is an ancient martial art of Korea which is considered by many to be the predecessor of the modern Tae Kwon Do martial art. The history of Taekkyon is fascinating. It nearly died completely out during the Japanese occupation of Korea. The story goes that a crazed sword wielding Japanese soldier was killed by an unarmed Korean man using only taekkyon. The Japanese immediately outlawed the practice, stating that it was too deadly, and killing anyone associated with or continuing the teaching of taekkyon. After many years, the art was nearly forgotten until not that long ago, when an 80 year old man was seen practicing the movements and an ancient art was reborn.
Taekkyon is a major part of my Seven Kingdoms novel and now that my novel has a female protagonist, I get to show you what I envision she would look like. Here is a famous Korean taekkyon martial artist showing you the both the power and the beauty of this ancient art.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 21
Being lazy and cheap this year (I forgot to do my annual Christmas cards but refuse to feel guilty about it), I waited til the new year to buy my 2009 wall calendar. After all who wants to pay full price? The answer to that is anyone who would like to have a choice as to what pictures your calendar will contain. The choices left for me were stupendously bad. Lots of overexposed fake tatas, Hannah Montanas, bad tv shows I've never heard of, and a calendar titled "Crack" which is apparently the official butt crack calendar. Having no desire to stare at ass all year long, I found one slightly bent calendar hidden behind the Cracks that was called Poopy Puppies. And no, it is not a calendar of pooping puppies, that would have been nasty. It is a calendar of cute little dozing puppies with an unfortunate choice of title.
So I put up the calendar and January has an adorable little puppy sleeping on its back with its tummy all exposed. Da Man takes one look at it and says, "You know what's going to happen as soon as the girls see it." I ignore him.
That day we had friends over for lunch. They have a boy and a girl who is about Oldest and Angus's ages. (Note for new readers - Angus is the nickname my middle daughter gave to herself. Sorry to confuse anyone who thought Angus was a boy!) Angus and the boy, who is a year younger, are good friends, real troublemakers. I'm in the kitchen prepping and I hear Angus and the boy giggling behind me. They are standing in front of the calendar. Angus points right at a certain point in the picture and says, "what do you think that is?"
"It's just a bump," the boy says.
"No it's a pee pee!"
"That doesn't look like a pee pee!"
"Yes it does!" Angus insists.
"How do you know, you don't have one!" The boy says.
"But I've seen it. I just saw yours today!" Angus admits.
"When?"
"You always leave the door open when you pee!"
"You shouldn't look!"
"You shouldn't leave the door open!"
"I can't help it. I'm scared when the door is closed.
"Well I can't help myself either. I'm just too curious!"
I think Da Man is going to have to have a little talk with Angus about her curiosity.
Updates of what is happening around the blogosphere!
Aerin at In Search of Giants is hosting a writer’s challenge to foster inspiration and community. It's pretty low-pressure: 1000 words a month. At the end of the year, you'll have a total of 12,000 words, which is not even half a NaNo entry. Go here to sign up!
BONUS: If you sign up for this challenge by January 14, your entry to the Ascension Clarity of Night contest counts as all 1000 of your words for January!
And:
Please drop by the Book Roast for the hippest publishing party in town! One hot publisher, two terrific agents, and six fabulous authors will be kicking off the launch party!!
The Book Roast serves up a variety of authors and books, lightly grilled and seasoned with humor. The Book Roast site is a free promotional tool for authors dedicated to celebrating great books! Its mission is to help publicize books of all genres, printed by publishers of all sizes.
The launch line-up is:
Monday, Jan 12: Mystery Publisher
Tuesday, Jan 13: Eric Stone
Wednesday, Jan 14: Agent Lucienne Diver
Thursday, Jan 15: Barrie Summy
Saturday, Jan 17: Elysabeth Eldering
Monday, Jan 19: Mystery Publisher
Tuesday, Jan 20: Traci E Hall
Wednesday, Jan 21: Maggie Stiefvater
Thursday, Jan 22: Agent Nathan Bransford
Friday, Jan 23: Jennifer Macaire
We hope to see you there!!
So I put up the calendar and January has an adorable little puppy sleeping on its back with its tummy all exposed. Da Man takes one look at it and says, "You know what's going to happen as soon as the girls see it." I ignore him.
That day we had friends over for lunch. They have a boy and a girl who is about Oldest and Angus's ages. (Note for new readers - Angus is the nickname my middle daughter gave to herself. Sorry to confuse anyone who thought Angus was a boy!) Angus and the boy, who is a year younger, are good friends, real troublemakers. I'm in the kitchen prepping and I hear Angus and the boy giggling behind me. They are standing in front of the calendar. Angus points right at a certain point in the picture and says, "what do you think that is?"
"It's just a bump," the boy says.
"No it's a pee pee!"
"That doesn't look like a pee pee!"
"Yes it does!" Angus insists.
"How do you know, you don't have one!" The boy says.
"But I've seen it. I just saw yours today!" Angus admits.
"When?"
"You always leave the door open when you pee!"
"You shouldn't look!"
"You shouldn't leave the door open!"
"I can't help it. I'm scared when the door is closed.
"Well I can't help myself either. I'm just too curious!"
I think Da Man is going to have to have a little talk with Angus about her curiosity.
Updates of what is happening around the blogosphere!
Aerin at In Search of Giants is hosting a writer’s challenge to foster inspiration and community. It's pretty low-pressure: 1000 words a month. At the end of the year, you'll have a total of 12,000 words, which is not even half a NaNo entry. Go here to sign up!BONUS: If you sign up for this challenge by January 14, your entry to the Ascension Clarity of Night contest counts as all 1000 of your words for January!
And:
Please drop by the Book Roast for the hippest publishing party in town! One hot publisher, two terrific agents, and six fabulous authors will be kicking off the launch party!!
The Book Roast serves up a variety of authors and books, lightly grilled and seasoned with humor. The Book Roast site is a free promotional tool for authors dedicated to celebrating great books! Its mission is to help publicize books of all genres, printed by publishers of all sizes.
The launch line-up is:
Monday, Jan 12: Mystery Publisher
Tuesday, Jan 13: Eric Stone
Wednesday, Jan 14: Agent Lucienne Diver
Thursday, Jan 15: Barrie Summy
Saturday, Jan 17: Elysabeth Eldering
Monday, Jan 19: Mystery Publisher
Tuesday, Jan 20: Traci E Hall
Wednesday, Jan 21: Maggie Stiefvater
Thursday, Jan 22: Agent Nathan Bransford
Friday, Jan 23: Jennifer Macaire
We hope to see you there!!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 20
Some of you may remember this little funny thing that happened last year, which I posted about in my very first Random Funny Things My kids say. I post it here again as a lead in to the newest Angus escapade.:
Explosive secret:
My middle child came home and told me she had to tell me a secret. I asked her what was up. She said, “At school today I had to fart but I didn’t want to fart at my station cause I knew it would smell bad so I went to another station and farted and then ran away. But I didn’t know it would be SO stinky. I thought it would just be a little stinky. But it was really bad! It smelled like lots and lots of boiled eggs! Lots of them! I didn’t know my fart could smell like that! And then Grant said Phillip did a stinky fart and Phillip said Nuh, uh and that Grant must have done it and then everyone started going ‘ill, ill, someone farted!’ and teacher got so mad at both of them she gave them both letters (the school gives out letters for bad behavior). And she had to open the window to let some air in. But I didn’t tell anyone that it was me who did the stinky fart and Grant and Phillip got in trouble. I was too scared to admit that it was me that done it. Was that bad? Will God be angry with me? Mommy? Mommy why are you crying?”
Secrets and Lies - Angus strikes again
So after dinner with some friends at the mall last night, I stopped by the makeup counter at Nordstrom's to buy some eyeliner. The nice Lancome lady commented on my beautiful girls and offered up some lip gloss. First she put some on Oldest who beamed happily, then she offered some to Angus who immediately ran off to a mirror at another counter. As I raised Youngest up to get her coating of luscious pink delight, a sudden horrendously foul smell hit me. My eyes began to water and I stare into the shocked and frozen expression of the Lancome lady before me. I glance at Youngest and Oldest, they were blinking their eyes and rubbing their noses. I stare back at the Lancome lady who is still frozen, but her face has begun to melt from the fumes. Copious eyeliner and mascara flow like lava down her perfect skin.
The smell finally begins to fade and Youngest starts to squirm, pressing forward with lips puckered. Lancome lady automatically applies lip gloss to Youngest's cupid bow. I put down Youngest and stumble back, wiping the tears away from my eyes while Lancome lady flees the scene with her melted face, barely taking in the girls thank yous. Angus finally saunters back. Oldest immediately goes on the attack.
"I can't believe you farted and ran away!!!"
"I didn't!" Angus shouts. "It wasn't me!"
I'm rushing the girls out of the store as fast as I can before Lancome lady decides to call in a poison gas attack to Homeland security. We run into the car all the while Angus is protesting her innocence. As we are driving away a horrendous stench befouls the entire car and I quickly roll down the windows as I gag and wheeze.
"PEEEEEEEE EWWWWWWW! I guess my farts do stink!" Angus begins to laugh. "I think I have to go to the bathroom."
"Please do not fart again," I insist, "Or you may have an accident."
"Well you better hurry then!"
"You're killing me!" I say as I speed up.
"Ooops!" she says and begins to laugh again. "Mommy's gonna vomit! Mommy's gonna vomit!"
"There's something terribly wrong with you," Oldest says from the back of the car.
I agree. I think she takes after her father.
Explosive secret:
My middle child came home and told me she had to tell me a secret. I asked her what was up. She said, “At school today I had to fart but I didn’t want to fart at my station cause I knew it would smell bad so I went to another station and farted and then ran away. But I didn’t know it would be SO stinky. I thought it would just be a little stinky. But it was really bad! It smelled like lots and lots of boiled eggs! Lots of them! I didn’t know my fart could smell like that! And then Grant said Phillip did a stinky fart and Phillip said Nuh, uh and that Grant must have done it and then everyone started going ‘ill, ill, someone farted!’ and teacher got so mad at both of them she gave them both letters (the school gives out letters for bad behavior). And she had to open the window to let some air in. But I didn’t tell anyone that it was me who did the stinky fart and Grant and Phillip got in trouble. I was too scared to admit that it was me that done it. Was that bad? Will God be angry with me? Mommy? Mommy why are you crying?”
So after dinner with some friends at the mall last night, I stopped by the makeup counter at Nordstrom's to buy some eyeliner. The nice Lancome lady commented on my beautiful girls and offered up some lip gloss. First she put some on Oldest who beamed happily, then she offered some to Angus who immediately ran off to a mirror at another counter. As I raised Youngest up to get her coating of luscious pink delight, a sudden horrendously foul smell hit me. My eyes began to water and I stare into the shocked and frozen expression of the Lancome lady before me. I glance at Youngest and Oldest, they were blinking their eyes and rubbing their noses. I stare back at the Lancome lady who is still frozen, but her face has begun to melt from the fumes. Copious eyeliner and mascara flow like lava down her perfect skin.
The smell finally begins to fade and Youngest starts to squirm, pressing forward with lips puckered. Lancome lady automatically applies lip gloss to Youngest's cupid bow. I put down Youngest and stumble back, wiping the tears away from my eyes while Lancome lady flees the scene with her melted face, barely taking in the girls thank yous. Angus finally saunters back. Oldest immediately goes on the attack.
"I can't believe you farted and ran away!!!"
"I didn't!" Angus shouts. "It wasn't me!"
I'm rushing the girls out of the store as fast as I can before Lancome lady decides to call in a poison gas attack to Homeland security. We run into the car all the while Angus is protesting her innocence. As we are driving away a horrendous stench befouls the entire car and I quickly roll down the windows as I gag and wheeze.
"PEEEEEEEE EWWWWWWW! I guess my farts do stink!" Angus begins to laugh. "I think I have to go to the bathroom."
"Please do not fart again," I insist, "Or you may have an accident."
"Well you better hurry then!"
"You're killing me!" I say as I speed up.
"Ooops!" she says and begins to laugh again. "Mommy's gonna vomit! Mommy's gonna vomit!"
"There's something terribly wrong with you," Oldest says from the back of the car.
I agree. I think she takes after her father.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Please Help!!!
One of our very own, Travis Erwin, the wonderful blogger of One Word, One Rung, One Day fame, has suffered a terrible loss. While he and his family are safe, they have lost everything they own in a house fire that has left them homeless. There are many of us worrying about him and Erica Orloff, Stephen Parrish, Chris Eldin, Natasha Fondren, Merry Monteleon and Moonrat have been brainstorming on what we as a community can do. Stephen has done a great job setting up a place to make donations to help Travis during this terrible time. I know these are tough times. They are tough for me too! But the thought of being homeless, especially with small kids, is devastating and I want to do all I can to help. Think of your house and everything in it, and now think of losing it all. That is what happened. So please, donate and help rebuild not just their homes, but their lives.
Habitat for Travis
Thank you!
Habitat for Travis
Thank you!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
So...
Charles asked me why I changed my blog address. Well I did it at the advice of my agent who felt that Random Acts of Unkindness was not a good address for a young adult author to have. It took me longer than I needed to switch over because I hated to give up the snarkiness of my old blog, but I did a little impromptu poll with some parents and was told overwhelmingly that they wouldn't be too keen on their kid going to a blog with that title even knowing what it is I wrote, and even though I did clean up my posts. One friend even said that there was something raunchy and vaguely lascivious about my blog title. Well I tend to disagree - I mean it says unkindness right? Sheesh, what a deviant! If it said random acts of kindness - well maybe that would make more sense. No wait, that's some goody two shoes charitable/religious thing, not the kindness I was thinking about, beg pardon.
So I gave in and finally made the move. Like I mentioned earlier, my name blogspot was taken by spammers - BOO SPAMMERS!!! - and Hello Ello my second choice was also taken. And here we are!
Tomorrow the kids are all back in school. Cue music:
Yes I know this is really more appropriate for September. Yes I know it was only a week and a half. Yes I really do love love Love my children. But I'm so happy that they are going back to school I could cry. Please cue music again...
So I gave in and finally made the move. Like I mentioned earlier, my name blogspot was taken by spammers - BOO SPAMMERS!!! - and Hello Ello my second choice was also taken. And here we are!
Tomorrow the kids are all back in school. Cue music:
Yes I know this is really more appropriate for September. Yes I know it was only a week and a half. Yes I really do love love Love my children. But I'm so happy that they are going back to school I could cry. Please cue music again...
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Breaking out the New Year with a Brand New Blog!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
So if my redirect worked, it should have brought you here, to Hello Ello 2, my new home. Welcome, welcome! I've missed you all! I've missed the blog. But I have been a good Mommy, scheduling back to back playdates (which I absolutely despise and dread), even having 3 simultaneous playdates (horror of horrors) and am just barely retaining my sanity. I don't know how other Moms schedule playdates every day during the holidays. Dealing with my own kids is difficult enough, dealing with other people's kids and your own requires certain saintly qualities that I apparently have not been blessed with.
Back to my new blog. Nothing should have changed significantly.
Aerin,
aka Wonder Woman, who has been so awesome to help me, imported everything over beautifully and if anything is screwy, it is entirely my own inept fault. Like the linky love. I can't seem to just cut and paste the list, confound you Blogger! That means I have to rebuild linky love. This goes completely against my sin of sloth. I has such a headache just thinking about it!
So I will have to rebuild my links back up slowly and I will ask you for your help. If you have linked to me or followed me in the past, may I ask you very kindly to link and/or follow my new blog? Leave me a comment and I will make sure to link you up asap. And I will need help to make sure I capture everyone so if you don't see your link on my side bar, it is not intentional, it is simply stupidity and sloth. So help a girl out, won't ya? Thank you all very kindly!
By the way, since my girls have found my blog, I've been forced by Da Man to clean up my blog. I've been searching out some of my more colorful word choices and found that there were over 250 uses of a certain foul excrement word in my previous blog posts. In fact, I found one post where I used excrement a total of 20 times. Sheesh that took forever to clean out. And additionally there were approximately 90 posts using a word that rhymes with luck. Who knew I was so foul mouthed? Apparently everyone but me.
But as we are starting the New Year and a New Blog, I decided that I will share something with all of you. My dirty little secret.
Sometimes I am a real stinker of a Mommy.I have lots of examples of being a stinker, but here is one that still cracks me up. It earns me the glare of other Mommy disapproval if they were to know about it but I don't care.
Youngest has this little Oreo cookie ritual. She likes to open up the chocolate cookies so that the cream side is up. She will open 3 or 4 in a row and then she likes to carve out half the cream onto the naked cookie so that all her chocolate cookies now have at least an equal amout of white cream on each cookie. Only then will she eat them. (Yeah, I have OCD and each of my kids have some form of it. As OCD goes, this is pretty mild.) Well I take joy in waiting until Youngest has opened all her cookies and then I distract her by shouting out "Angus is playing with your brand new Barbie kitchen set!" or some other nonsense like that, at which point she runs off to protect her toys, leaving her cookies unguarded. I quickly eat all the cream off of her cookies and then run and hide. Oldest disapproves and tells me I am terrible. She is right.
When Youngest comes back, she throws an extraordinary temper tantrum on finding that all the cream has been eaten and all she has are sad little naked cookies. Now she no longer wants to eat them, which works for Oldest who likes only the cookie part anyway. Oldest scoops up the cookies and eats them and Youngest begins to cry.
After I have finished laughing, I dry her tears and bring out some more Oreo cookies for Youngest to eat. I've pulled this trick on Youngest in many different variations as she has gotten more and more distrustful of me. Sometimes I pretend I'm just trying to help her, other times I snatch the cream side out of her hand and stuff it in my mouth. I just love to see how indignant she gets. And yes, I am such a big stinker.
The other day, Youngest got an oreo cookie and opened it and said "Here Mommy, I got your favorite cookie for you! Open wide!" holding the cream side up in front of my mouth. I gladly opened up when suddenly she pulls a fast switcheroo and shoves the naked no cream side of the cookie into my mouth at the same time she shoves the yummy cream filled one into hers.
"Ha Ha!" she shouts gleefully.
The little stinker got me. I'm so proud. It's times like this that bring tears of joy to my eyes.
Don't forget to pop by Jason's writing contest over at The Clarity of Night. The competition is always amazing and the prizes are terrific!
So if my redirect worked, it should have brought you here, to Hello Ello 2, my new home. Welcome, welcome! I've missed you all! I've missed the blog. But I have been a good Mommy, scheduling back to back playdates (which I absolutely despise and dread), even having 3 simultaneous playdates (horror of horrors) and am just barely retaining my sanity. I don't know how other Moms schedule playdates every day during the holidays. Dealing with my own kids is difficult enough, dealing with other people's kids and your own requires certain saintly qualities that I apparently have not been blessed with.
Back to my new blog. Nothing should have changed significantly.
Aerin,
aka Wonder Woman, who has been so awesome to help me, imported everything over beautifully and if anything is screwy, it is entirely my own inept fault. Like the linky love. I can't seem to just cut and paste the list, confound you Blogger! That means I have to rebuild linky love. This goes completely against my sin of sloth. I has such a headache just thinking about it!So I will have to rebuild my links back up slowly and I will ask you for your help. If you have linked to me or followed me in the past, may I ask you very kindly to link and/or follow my new blog? Leave me a comment and I will make sure to link you up asap. And I will need help to make sure I capture everyone so if you don't see your link on my side bar, it is not intentional, it is simply stupidity and sloth. So help a girl out, won't ya? Thank you all very kindly!
By the way, since my girls have found my blog, I've been forced by Da Man to clean up my blog. I've been searching out some of my more colorful word choices and found that there were over 250 uses of a certain foul excrement word in my previous blog posts. In fact, I found one post where I used excrement a total of 20 times. Sheesh that took forever to clean out. And additionally there were approximately 90 posts using a word that rhymes with luck. Who knew I was so foul mouthed? Apparently everyone but me.
But as we are starting the New Year and a New Blog, I decided that I will share something with all of you. My dirty little secret.
Youngest has this little Oreo cookie ritual. She likes to open up the chocolate cookies so that the cream side is up. She will open 3 or 4 in a row and then she likes to carve out half the cream onto the naked cookie so that all her chocolate cookies now have at least an equal amout of white cream on each cookie. Only then will she eat them. (Yeah, I have OCD and each of my kids have some form of it. As OCD goes, this is pretty mild.) Well I take joy in waiting until Youngest has opened all her cookies and then I distract her by shouting out "Angus is playing with your brand new Barbie kitchen set!" or some other nonsense like that, at which point she runs off to protect her toys, leaving her cookies unguarded. I quickly eat all the cream off of her cookies and then run and hide. Oldest disapproves and tells me I am terrible. She is right.
When Youngest comes back, she throws an extraordinary temper tantrum on finding that all the cream has been eaten and all she has are sad little naked cookies. Now she no longer wants to eat them, which works for Oldest who likes only the cookie part anyway. Oldest scoops up the cookies and eats them and Youngest begins to cry.
After I have finished laughing, I dry her tears and bring out some more Oreo cookies for Youngest to eat. I've pulled this trick on Youngest in many different variations as she has gotten more and more distrustful of me. Sometimes I pretend I'm just trying to help her, other times I snatch the cream side out of her hand and stuff it in my mouth. I just love to see how indignant she gets. And yes, I am such a big stinker.
The other day, Youngest got an oreo cookie and opened it and said "Here Mommy, I got your favorite cookie for you! Open wide!" holding the cream side up in front of my mouth. I gladly opened up when suddenly she pulls a fast switcheroo and shoves the naked no cream side of the cookie into my mouth at the same time she shoves the yummy cream filled one into hers.
"Ha Ha!" she shouts gleefully.
The little stinker got me. I'm so proud. It's times like this that bring tears of joy to my eyes.
Don't forget to pop by Jason's writing contest over at The Clarity of Night. The competition is always amazing and the prizes are terrific!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Happy Holidays
With the kids home for the week and a major revision in place, I will be letting the blog go dark for a little while. I hope to be back to posting in a week or so. But in the meantime, I wish all my blog buddies and blog readers a wonderful holiday season and a very happy New Year!
Best,
Ell
PS - I had 39 comments on this post which I could not import over because I screwed something up. But I read every single one of them and truly appreciated each and every sentiment. Thank you so very much for all your wonderful warm wishes!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Writing Mood Music
I am not one of those writers that needs absolute quiet. I write with the tv blaring, kids fighting, piano playing, violin screeching, kids screaming, husband snoring, radio blasting, kids laughing, etc. It is always noisy in the house. I've gotten used to working in chaos and sometimes when the house is too quiet, it is actually harder to work. Too much quiet can feel oppressive some times.
So I do like to play music sometimes while I am writing. Not always, just when I feel a situation calls for it. What I call my mood music. When I am outlining, or brainstorming, world building, etc. - I like having Sarah McLachlan playing on my ipod. When I have some emotional angsty stuff, I reach for Tori Amos. And when I am really sleepy and need to wake myself up, I put on country western music cause I hates the stuff and it will actually make me mad. I'd rather eat raw liver than listen to continuous country music.
Speaking of being mad, I love blasting music most especially when I am writing scenes filled with fighting and violence. Which, by the way, there is a lot of in my books. In fact all 3 of my manuscripts have quite alot of violence in them. I don't know what that says about my personality, but there it is. I am a violent person.
Below is the music I like to blast when working on a battle or fight sequence. It is almost an anthem of mine. And yes I loved their first single too.
Anybody else have a musical anthem they'd like to share?
So I do like to play music sometimes while I am writing. Not always, just when I feel a situation calls for it. What I call my mood music. When I am outlining, or brainstorming, world building, etc. - I like having Sarah McLachlan playing on my ipod. When I have some emotional angsty stuff, I reach for Tori Amos. And when I am really sleepy and need to wake myself up, I put on country western music cause I hates the stuff and it will actually make me mad. I'd rather eat raw liver than listen to continuous country music.
Speaking of being mad, I love blasting music most especially when I am writing scenes filled with fighting and violence. Which, by the way, there is a lot of in my books. In fact all 3 of my manuscripts have quite alot of violence in them. I don't know what that says about my personality, but there it is. I am a violent person.
Below is the music I like to blast when working on a battle or fight sequence. It is almost an anthem of mine. And yes I loved their first single too.
Anybody else have a musical anthem they'd like to share?
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 19
This past weekend I went up to New York for my best friend's big surprise birthday bash, which was an absolute blast and I am so happy I went. It was a quick drive in and out with the kids but Grandma and Grandpa decided that we had to squeeze in a trip to the American Girl store to get the girls their Christmas presents. Da Man bowed out with a convenient illness and so the rest of us braved the freezing cold weather that day to go midtown.
Anyone can tell you that the Rockefeller Center area on any given weekend is usually extremely crowded, but in December it is a mob scene. There was no getting anywhere near the Saks Fifth Avenue Christmas windows and people were packed in like sardines around the tree. Meanwhile just trying to get into the American Girl store is like trying to see the Pope. After waiting on a block long line to get into the madhouse of a ridiculously overpriced store that clearly shows no signs of understanding what the word recession means, we stumbled out dazed and exhausted. As badly as the girls wanted to take a cab home, there were no cabs to be had. We struggled like salmon during spawning season against the tide of wall to wall tourists and finally wriggled our way to the nearest train station.
The D train was as crowded as if it was rush hour. It reminded me of those Japanese commuter trains where the train conductors come up and push people onto the train. My Mom dives on to the train in true New York fashion, dragging Oldest behind her while me and my Dad with Angus and Youngest barely squeeze on. I can hear my Dad complaining that my Mom would rather ditch us than miss the train. He may be right. She can be very one track minded. That's a train pun. he he.
I can hear Angus moaning and groaning about the press of people around her but at least she and my Dad are by a pole. Oldest keeps asking me anxiously if their American Girl presents are ok while I'm holding Youngest's hand while also carrying a very large American Girl Store shopping bag and extending my other arm out as far as I can to hold on to something, anything!, even while being held up by 8 different strangers around me.
I ask Youngest if she is ok and the next thing I hear is:
"All I can see is butts, Mommy. Butts, butts, butts! But it's ok, cause I'm holding my bweath!"
Over the eruption of laughter, I reach over and slap a hand over Angus's mouth before she can say the inappropriateness that her gleaming mischievous eyes are brimming over with. Luckily we get off at the next stop before my kids say anything more alarming.
Anyone can tell you that the Rockefeller Center area on any given weekend is usually extremely crowded, but in December it is a mob scene. There was no getting anywhere near the Saks Fifth Avenue Christmas windows and people were packed in like sardines around the tree. Meanwhile just trying to get into the American Girl store is like trying to see the Pope. After waiting on a block long line to get into the madhouse of a ridiculously overpriced store that clearly shows no signs of understanding what the word recession means, we stumbled out dazed and exhausted. As badly as the girls wanted to take a cab home, there were no cabs to be had. We struggled like salmon during spawning season against the tide of wall to wall tourists and finally wriggled our way to the nearest train station.
The D train was as crowded as if it was rush hour. It reminded me of those Japanese commuter trains where the train conductors come up and push people onto the train. My Mom dives on to the train in true New York fashion, dragging Oldest behind her while me and my Dad with Angus and Youngest barely squeeze on. I can hear my Dad complaining that my Mom would rather ditch us than miss the train. He may be right. She can be very one track minded. That's a train pun. he he.
I can hear Angus moaning and groaning about the press of people around her but at least she and my Dad are by a pole. Oldest keeps asking me anxiously if their American Girl presents are ok while I'm holding Youngest's hand while also carrying a very large American Girl Store shopping bag and extending my other arm out as far as I can to hold on to something, anything!, even while being held up by 8 different strangers around me.
I ask Youngest if she is ok and the next thing I hear is:
"All I can see is butts, Mommy. Butts, butts, butts! But it's ok, cause I'm holding my bweath!"
Over the eruption of laughter, I reach over and slap a hand over Angus's mouth before she can say the inappropriateness that her gleaming mischievous eyes are brimming over with. Luckily we get off at the next stop before my kids say anything more alarming.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
AuthorsNow! website
Here is a very cool new website that I want to share with you. I've copied their information below:
AuthorsNow! is a collaboration of debut children’s book authors and illustrators who are the fresh and emerging voices in children’s and young adult literature today. Created with the parent, teacher, librarian and bookseller in mind, AuthorsNow! is a one-stop-shop to learn about all of our authors and illustrators. Here you’ll be able to …
- get up-to-date descriptions of forthcoming books
- read the latest on our authors
- download supplemental resources such as teaching guides, quizzes, and other materials
- book an author or author panel for your school, library or organization
- participate in contests and giveaways
- find out about debut author events
- and much, much more.
We’ll also be serving up a fresh cup of content on a regular basis related to children’s literature and what’s happening in the field today.
Our authors range from picture book authors to teen novelists, fiction and nonfiction alike, and all are published by major trade publishers in the United States.
New talent is in town! Learn about what’s hitting the shelves in children’s and teen literature today from our debut authors and illustrators. Not only will you find information about our books, but we’ll also point you to other popular groups, web sites, blogs, and communities who love children’s books as much as we do! So grab a cup of coffee and pull up a chair as we discuss what’s happening with AuthorsNow!…
Friday, December 12, 2008
Japanese Ice Cream Treat Sensation
Awhile ago I blogged about this wonderful new treat sensation I had found called kisyu ume. I thought for sure that this was the worst thing masquerading as a sweet treat that I had ever had, but I have discovered that I was terribly wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.
I love ice cream. I believe it is the best invention in the entire world. I personally don't understand vanilla eaters. Vanilla is good but chocolate is so much better! And what about cookies and cream? Fudge ripple? Mint chocolate chip? Ice cream is heaven on a cone. I can't get enough of it. I adore all these different ice cream flavors! They make me happy... except maybe the Japanese version of our Baskin Robbins 31 flavors. Below is a selection of fabulous Japanese ice cream:
Copyright Wilhelmja via Creative Commons license on Flickr.com
At the top, the second ice cream top showing, we start with the very innocuous ramen flavored ice cream. Noodle ice cream flavor. That's fine. I can deal. The one next to it has a picture of a stalk of wheat so I thought it might be bread ice cream. Nope it is malt beer ice cream. I wonder if there is any alcohol content in it?
Aw come on, you say! What's with the weak stuff? Alright, I hear you. You are way more adventurous. Let's start with the first ice cream on the second row with the green top - good old wasabi ice cream. Horseradish ice cream. Perhaps you are supposed to eat it with your sushi instead of after? Well go ahead and blow out your nasal cavities with it. When you are done, why don't you skip over to the last ice cream on the second row with the yellow top that looks like a horse's head. No! You gasp. What new vileness can this be? Don't say it Ello, it can't be... Oh yes, I will Wilbur! It's HORSEMEAT ICE CREAM!!! After a nice day at the racetrack, come and have a cold, smooth cone of horsemeat! It will make you neigh with delight!
And if horsemeat is not your thing, go ahead and pick up the flavor right below it. You know, the one with the figure of a boy with a turban. Yes I know there is a boy on the cover. No it is not testicle ice cream. I don't think they make that. At least not yet. How about Indian curry ice cream. For those of you who seek some spice with their dessert. Because sweet should also be spicy. Really spicy. Curry spicy that is. Someone somewhere out there was playing around in the kitchen and decided that milk, sugar, cream would be a perfect base for chicken curry. And that person is just so very special.
Wait a minute, you say. What about ice cream for the seafood lovers here? Say no more, say no more. The first ice cream on the bottom row is fish egg ice cream. Hey you can call it caviar ice cream if you want, if it makes you feel posh. Oh salty treats of fishy goodness! Let those little fishy egg sacs burst in your mouth and mix that oily fishy goodness with the milk, sugar, and creamy goodness of the ice cream.
What say you? None of these are hitting your sweet spot? Speak up! I can't hear you with the vomit gurgling in your mouth! Oh you need something more special? Ok, I've got it for you. Here you go:
Octopus ice cream. Cause nothing says summer time like a nice refreshing scoop of octopus ice cream with perfect sucker encrusted tentacles for your crunching pleasure. And if you are really lucky, one of the suckers will still be in working order and stick to your tongue while you try to eat it. How awesome would that be? Enjoy!
I love ice cream. I believe it is the best invention in the entire world. I personally don't understand vanilla eaters. Vanilla is good but chocolate is so much better! And what about cookies and cream? Fudge ripple? Mint chocolate chip? Ice cream is heaven on a cone. I can't get enough of it. I adore all these different ice cream flavors! They make me happy... except maybe the Japanese version of our Baskin Robbins 31 flavors. Below is a selection of fabulous Japanese ice cream:
Copyright Wilhelmja via Creative Commons license on Flickr.comAt the top, the second ice cream top showing, we start with the very innocuous ramen flavored ice cream. Noodle ice cream flavor. That's fine. I can deal. The one next to it has a picture of a stalk of wheat so I thought it might be bread ice cream. Nope it is malt beer ice cream. I wonder if there is any alcohol content in it?
Aw come on, you say! What's with the weak stuff? Alright, I hear you. You are way more adventurous. Let's start with the first ice cream on the second row with the green top - good old wasabi ice cream. Horseradish ice cream. Perhaps you are supposed to eat it with your sushi instead of after? Well go ahead and blow out your nasal cavities with it. When you are done, why don't you skip over to the last ice cream on the second row with the yellow top that looks like a horse's head. No! You gasp. What new vileness can this be? Don't say it Ello, it can't be... Oh yes, I will Wilbur! It's HORSEMEAT ICE CREAM!!! After a nice day at the racetrack, come and have a cold, smooth cone of horsemeat! It will make you neigh with delight!
And if horsemeat is not your thing, go ahead and pick up the flavor right below it. You know, the one with the figure of a boy with a turban. Yes I know there is a boy on the cover. No it is not testicle ice cream. I don't think they make that. At least not yet. How about Indian curry ice cream. For those of you who seek some spice with their dessert. Because sweet should also be spicy. Really spicy. Curry spicy that is. Someone somewhere out there was playing around in the kitchen and decided that milk, sugar, cream would be a perfect base for chicken curry. And that person is just so very special.
Wait a minute, you say. What about ice cream for the seafood lovers here? Say no more, say no more. The first ice cream on the bottom row is fish egg ice cream. Hey you can call it caviar ice cream if you want, if it makes you feel posh. Oh salty treats of fishy goodness! Let those little fishy egg sacs burst in your mouth and mix that oily fishy goodness with the milk, sugar, and creamy goodness of the ice cream.
What say you? None of these are hitting your sweet spot? Speak up! I can't hear you with the vomit gurgling in your mouth! Oh you need something more special? Ok, I've got it for you. Here you go:
Octopus ice cream. Cause nothing says summer time like a nice refreshing scoop of octopus ice cream with perfect sucker encrusted tentacles for your crunching pleasure. And if you are really lucky, one of the suckers will still be in working order and stick to your tongue while you try to eat it. How awesome would that be? Enjoy!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Help!
I've been trying to get my name blogspot but squatters have control over it and apparently can't do anything about it! The closest I could get to a new blogger address is elloecho.blogspot.com but then blogger classified it as spam and locked it up for a very long time! I only just got it back and now, finally, on the advice of my agent, am working on changing my blog to the new blogger address. The intent is that I will move all content from here to the new blogspot and that when you click here, you will get redirected immediately until such time as you all start relinking me at the new place.
EXCEPT, I am fairly technically savvy at times and inept at others. This is one of my inept times. I can't find anything to help me figure out how the heck I can keep all my blog features here and transfer them to the new blog. And I tried a redirect on the other blog and had some problems and now I'm afraid to redirect on this one cause ineptness has taken over my brain functions. SO I am putting out an SOS for help please.
So to all my technically brilliant buddies - please help me figure out how to do what I want to do and not screw up. I'll come up with amusing prizes if it all works out right! I might even let Da Man post one of his embarrassing expose stories about me that he has been DYING to spill and which I have rejected on pain of waxing his tenders.
EXCEPT, I am fairly technically savvy at times and inept at others. This is one of my inept times. I can't find anything to help me figure out how the heck I can keep all my blog features here and transfer them to the new blog. And I tried a redirect on the other blog and had some problems and now I'm afraid to redirect on this one cause ineptness has taken over my brain functions. SO I am putting out an SOS for help please.
So to all my technically brilliant buddies - please help me figure out how to do what I want to do and not screw up. I'll come up with amusing prizes if it all works out right! I might even let Da Man post one of his embarrassing expose stories about me that he has been DYING to spill and which I have rejected on pain of waxing his tenders.
Monday, December 8, 2008
My students
On the last day of my Thursday night class, my students completely blew me away by having a surprise end of the semester party. They brought pizza, cold cuts, cheese, crackers, cake, brownies, chips, cider, drinks, chocolates. I was really blown away by the wonderful spread and touched by the heartfelt appreciation they showed me. It was the first time that I was nearly brought to tears by my students in the classroom. They let me know how much they enjoyed my class and how much benefit they received from it. They let me know that I had made a difference in their lives in some small but tangible way.
I, in turn, have learned so much from all of them. Many are returning adult students, some who've been out of school for more than twenty years, who have more drive, more determination and more passion for their education than their younger classmates. Some are attending college at the same time as their children. Others are raising little ones at home and juggling babysitting to make it to class. They struggle through full time jobs, raising children, paying mortgages and other hardships but come to class every night ready to continue their educational odyssey. They challenge me, argue with me and push me to give them the best educational experience I can. Every class has been a dynamic exchange of knowledge and experience. Every class I leave tired but stimulated and feeling so lucky to have had such an involved group of students.
My admiration for my students is limitless. They remind me that it is never too late to go after whatever it is you truly want. Never too hard to achieve your dreams. Never too proud to go back and start again.
They remind me of why it is I teach.
I, in turn, have learned so much from all of them. Many are returning adult students, some who've been out of school for more than twenty years, who have more drive, more determination and more passion for their education than their younger classmates. Some are attending college at the same time as their children. Others are raising little ones at home and juggling babysitting to make it to class. They struggle through full time jobs, raising children, paying mortgages and other hardships but come to class every night ready to continue their educational odyssey. They challenge me, argue with me and push me to give them the best educational experience I can. Every class has been a dynamic exchange of knowledge and experience. Every class I leave tired but stimulated and feeling so lucky to have had such an involved group of students.
My admiration for my students is limitless. They remind me that it is never too late to go after whatever it is you truly want. Never too hard to achieve your dreams. Never too proud to go back and start again.
They remind me of why it is I teach.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Savvy
(Oldest and her best friend are guest posting today while I am slowly recuperating. They are both 9 years old and in the fourth grade.)Hi again! This is Oldest. Today I have a very special treat! At least it was for me! My Mom bought me the most awesome book called Savvy by Ingrid Law. Me and my best friend read it and loved it and then my Mom said we could interview Ms. Law by email and that was so exciting! So first we will provide our reviews. Mom said to call my best friend Hiccup for this post cause she thinks it is funny. This is funny but we don’t approve. Mom said too bad because this is her blog.
Hi this is Hiccup and I absolutely adore books and I love to read! Let me tell you about this wonderful book that Ms. Ello gave me to read! The book is called by Savvy by Ingrid Law. Mibs Beaumont is a 12 year old girl who is about to get a savvy but before that day, her Poppa gets into a terrible accident and goes to Salina hospital, so her mother and her oldest brother, Rocket, goes to Salina Hospital but Mibs, Samson, her younger brother who is seven years old, Fish, her second oldest brother, Bobbi and Will who are the preacher's grandchildren all want to go to Salina so they ride on a bus that goes to Salina but it starts to go away from Salina, not near Salina! Will Mibs ever see her Poppa again?! I loved this book!!! I think that it was extremely exciting!!! I was smiling whenever I was reading this book!
Oldest – You forgot to tell them what a savvy is Hiccup! And Mibs real name is
Hiccup – So cool. I want a savvy where I can fly.
Oldest – Me too. I want a savvy where I can fly and be invisible.
Hiccup – Invisible while flying?
Oldest – Well, yeah. But also be invisible even when not flying.
Hiccup – That’s 2 savvies. You can only pick one. And I already picked flying.
(We interrupt this post for a 10 minute argument on why you can or cannot have more than 1 savvy and how it may or may not be cheating.)
Oldest – Anyway, we got to write a letter to Ms. Law and she answered our questions!!! So here is our interview!
Hi Ms. Law! Thanks so much for letting us do an author interview with you. We are really excited and we have lots of questions! My Mom bought me your book Savvy and Hiccup and I both read it and loved it! Your book absolutely rocks! I think it is one of the greatest books I’ve ever read. It was exciting, funny, and fun.
Hiccup: I loved this book!!! I think that it was extremely exciting!!! I was smiling whenever I was reading Savvy! It was the first book I ever read like this. I'd recommend this book to all my friends.
Ms. Law: Hi Oldest! Hi Hiccup! Thank you so much for your wonderful, thoughtful questions. It's great to know how much you both enjoyed reading Savvy.
Oldest: Our first question of course is how did you get the idea for savvies?
Ms. Law: Savvies are about fifteen percent magic, twenty-five percent super powers, and sixty percent “fish-story” talents. I like to think of the story in Savvy as a modern tall tale.
Hiccup: How long did it take you to write Savvy?
Ms. Law: I wrote Savvy between January and May of 2007. After getting a publishing contract shortly after, I then worked on revising the book for my editor for another few months. So, altogether, it took about eight or nine months.
Hiccup: What is your favorite part of the book?
Ms. Law: I love the end . . . and the beginning . . . and everything in between! It’s hard to decide on a favorite part, but I do like the scene in the pool and the scene in the diner with Ozzie as well.
Hiccup: My favorite part is when Samson bit the great Ozzie's leg. I can still hear him scream. I couldn't ever do that because I'd be too scared. But it's really funny though. It is nice to hear bad guys have punishments.
Oldest: That’s my favorite part too! When I read that part I could almost heard a little girl scream in my mind.
Oldest: Would you want a savvy and if you could have a savvy what would it be?
Ms. Law: I like to answer this question in three parts. First is my dream savvy, which would be to fly or to breathe under water. Second is my silly savvy, which is that I knock things over and spill things a lot—I’m really very clumsy. And third is my real, everyday savvy, which is that I smile a lot.
Hiccup: Flying is cool.
Oldest: So is being invisible. And see she picked 3 savvies so I can pick 2 too!
Hiccup: What inspired you to write your book?
Ms. Law: I wanted to write a story about magical children that never used the word ‘magic’ and one that was set in out-of-the-way places in the United States—no big cities or fancy towns. I wanted to show that extraordinary things can happen anywhere.
Oldest: How does the story relate to you?
Ms. Law: In the book, Mibs needs to learn which voices in her life are important to listen to and which are not. Sometimes it’s easy to let the voices of criticism and doubt get fixed in your head. But it’s important, especially when writing, to listen to and trust your own voice.
Oldest: I really liked the part when Mibs talked to Miss Mermaid. That part was really meaningful to me. How did you come up with the characters? Especially Mibs. Is she like anyone you know?
Ms. Law: Mibs isn’t based on anyone I know. But as I wrote her story, she became more and more real to me. Sometimes characters come to life on their own.
Oldest: Mibs is one of my favorite characters. Her and her brothers are so cool! I cannot wait to read more about Mibs and her family!
Hiccup: I like Mibs because she's serious and adventurous too.
Oldest: How did you come up with Grandpa Bomba's savvy and the idea that they live in Kansaska-Nebransas? And do people realize they live in a new area? How would people find them on a map?
Ms. Law: Grandpa Bomba’s savvy is one with the most “tall-tale” feel to it. Even his own family knows he’s exaggerating when he claims to have created the entire state of
Hiccup: What is your favorite kind of character?
Ms. Law: I love characters with a lot of heart and characters who are still trying to figure themselves out.
Hiccup: What are your favorite books?
Ms. Law: There have been many books that have been my favorites over the years. The most recent is A Crooked Kind of Perfect, by Linda Urban. One of the earliest was Charmed Life, by Diana Wynne Jones.
Oldest: Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?
Ms. Law: No. But I have always had stories in my head. I guess you could say that I’ve never outgrown make-believe and that writing stories is just another way of pretending.
Oldest and Hiccup: When will your next book be out and will it be about Mibs and her family?
Ms. Law: I don’t know the publication date of my next book yet because I still have to finish it! Hopefully, it will come out at the end of 2009 or the beginning of 2010. The next book follows a new main character, telling the story of Mibs’s cousin, Ledger Kale, as he tries to figure out his own life after turning thirteen. This story takes place nine years after Savvy, but don’t worry! Even though Mibs’s journey is over, there will still be a few familiar characters along the way.
Oldest: Oh no! We won’t get to read about Mibs anymore!
Hiccup: But we will still get to read about savvies at least.
Oldest: Yeah, that’s good.
Ms. Law: Thanks for being such great fans. Take care and happy reading!
Oldest and Hiccup: Thank you Ms. Law!!! We think your book rock n rolls! Thanks for writing such a great book.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Thanks for all the great comments...
I've really enjoyed and appreciated everyone's comments on the last few posts and wanted to tell you guys how cool it has been to read them all. I'm always glad to see that people think my kids are funny and wicked smart and I'm happy to share with you the funny and poignant stuff my parents have shared with me over the years. So thanks to everyone for taking the time to stop by. I should be making my rounds but I have actually been sick lately. My ongoing dental traumas have caused me horrible reoccurring pain that spreads from my jaw to my ear and has been like this for over a month now. You know it's bad when I can't even joke about it. I keep wracking my brain to try and figure out what terrible thing I must have done to receive all this painful attention from the dental demons. I think the only other person who could relate to my agony is Spyscribbler, who has her own dental horror stories she could share.
To top it all off, I got really sick yesterday after a bad case of food poisoning and over self-medicating (the self medicating has been trying to find a painkiller that actually relieves pain and which I'm not allergic to) and I was one horribly sick pig. It's the second time I've poisoned myself in a month. Actually, if I hadn't taken the medicine myself I might be thinking that there is something to my Mom's idea of never letting your husband get a huge life insurance policy on you...
Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone as usual for stopping by and forgive me as I wallow in my own misery and not make my usual rounds. I do have a great author interview post scheduled for later this week in which Oldest and her best friend both read a book they loved and got to interview the author, so please stay tuned for Oldest's post later this week.
Until then, this little poisoned piggy is signing out for a wee bit.
To top it all off, I got really sick yesterday after a bad case of food poisoning and over self-medicating (the self medicating has been trying to find a painkiller that actually relieves pain and which I'm not allergic to) and I was one horribly sick pig. It's the second time I've poisoned myself in a month. Actually, if I hadn't taken the medicine myself I might be thinking that there is something to my Mom's idea of never letting your husband get a huge life insurance policy on you...
Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone as usual for stopping by and forgive me as I wallow in my own misery and not make my usual rounds. I do have a great author interview post scheduled for later this week in which Oldest and her best friend both read a book they loved and got to interview the author, so please stay tuned for Oldest's post later this week.
Until then, this little poisoned piggy is signing out for a wee bit.
Monday, December 1, 2008
National Day of Listening Story
As part of Moonrat's National Day of Listening request for stories, I want to share a story with you. My parents were down for the holiday and we were talking about old times. My Dad reminded me of what happened on one of our old family trips.
Life was pretty hard for my parents when they moved to the states. They were poor graduate students studying at Georgia Tech University until graduating and moving to New York City, where they were poor post-graduates desperately looking for a job. My mom had a mechanical engineering degree but it was useless for her, being a woman in a male-dominated industry. My dad studied business, but it was not quite his calling either. They both suffered at various businesses, many which were disastrous failures. I remember those lean years as times when I would walk into the kitchen, a hungry little girl, and find absolutely nothing to eat. I relied on the free breakfasts and lunches of my public school to feed me during the day. For sometimes, dinner could be hit or miss. I went to bed hungry too many nights to remember.
But in my early teens, my parents were doing a little better. Enough so that we could, on occasion, go on a short family vacation in our car. My Dad loves to drive and we would drive all over the northeast region. On one such family vacation, we drove south, past Washington, DC (which we visited often) and headed south into Virginia. We had been driving all day and all of us were tired. I must have been 13 and my sister was 5. My father saw a large motel sign with the vacancy sign lit brightly. We pulled in and watched my Dad go in to rent a room. He came back a few minutes later, started the car and drove away.
"No vacancy," he said.
"But the sign..." my mom started.
My Dad just shook his head. A few miles later we saw another motel with the word Vacancy clearly lit. Once more my Dad came out, his face tight in anger as we drove away. This happened many more times that night. It was very late and we had been driving well past dinner and bedtime. My sister had fallen asleep whining of hunger and my parents were very quiet. Finally we found another motel, much smaller and a little tucked away from the main highway. My Dad got wearily out of the car and walked over one last time to the motel office. He was gone alot longer this time and when he reappeared, he drove the car down to the farthest corner of the motel, although it was clear the motel was quite empty.
We all got out of the car, me carrying my sleeping sister, and entered the small room. It was ugly but clean and we were all so relieved to be out of the car. My Mom started making some noodles for our very delayed dinner on our little portable stove top as my Dad laid down on the bed. They argued for awhile over whether or not to continue our trip further south. My Mom wanted to go home and my Dad refused. We were heading for Savannah, Georgia and then to Atlanta to meet friends. He was not going to let racist rednecks spoil his family vacation.
"Dad," I asked. "Please, can we just go home? I don't like it here."
"We're just passing through," he replied.
"But they hate us!"
"They hate what they don't know or understand," he said tiredly. "We are too different."
"I hate them too!" I yelled. I was tired and angry. "I want to go home!" And while there was plenty of racism in NYC, at least the fact that there were so many other minorities around you kept you from feeling alone and insecure. Here in this very white area, I felt we were terribly exposed. But I never forgot what he told me that day.
"If you let hate and fear rule your life, you will never enjoy living," he said. "This is not even that bad. We've seen worse hatred (yes unfortunately this is true - but I'll save it for another post) and we will probably see more. But no matter what, be proud of who you are and stand up for yourself. We have to teach these people about who we are and then maybe in the future when you grow up, you will never have to see this type of ignorance again."
He gave me a hug and said, "Despite what you feel right now, never forget that this is a great country."
So now we come back to the present day, and as we sat in the living room, after the huge American meal, with a few token Korean dishes for my Mom's sake, my Dad brought up this old incident to contrast it to our world now, where we have for the first time ever, a black President-elect. Something he never thought could happen, but which gives him great hope for the future.
"Isn't this a great country?" he said.
Yes, it most definitely is.
Life was pretty hard for my parents when they moved to the states. They were poor graduate students studying at Georgia Tech University until graduating and moving to New York City, where they were poor post-graduates desperately looking for a job. My mom had a mechanical engineering degree but it was useless for her, being a woman in a male-dominated industry. My dad studied business, but it was not quite his calling either. They both suffered at various businesses, many which were disastrous failures. I remember those lean years as times when I would walk into the kitchen, a hungry little girl, and find absolutely nothing to eat. I relied on the free breakfasts and lunches of my public school to feed me during the day. For sometimes, dinner could be hit or miss. I went to bed hungry too many nights to remember.
But in my early teens, my parents were doing a little better. Enough so that we could, on occasion, go on a short family vacation in our car. My Dad loves to drive and we would drive all over the northeast region. On one such family vacation, we drove south, past Washington, DC (which we visited often) and headed south into Virginia. We had been driving all day and all of us were tired. I must have been 13 and my sister was 5. My father saw a large motel sign with the vacancy sign lit brightly. We pulled in and watched my Dad go in to rent a room. He came back a few minutes later, started the car and drove away.
"No vacancy," he said.
"But the sign..." my mom started.
My Dad just shook his head. A few miles later we saw another motel with the word Vacancy clearly lit. Once more my Dad came out, his face tight in anger as we drove away. This happened many more times that night. It was very late and we had been driving well past dinner and bedtime. My sister had fallen asleep whining of hunger and my parents were very quiet. Finally we found another motel, much smaller and a little tucked away from the main highway. My Dad got wearily out of the car and walked over one last time to the motel office. He was gone alot longer this time and when he reappeared, he drove the car down to the farthest corner of the motel, although it was clear the motel was quite empty.
We all got out of the car, me carrying my sleeping sister, and entered the small room. It was ugly but clean and we were all so relieved to be out of the car. My Mom started making some noodles for our very delayed dinner on our little portable stove top as my Dad laid down on the bed. They argued for awhile over whether or not to continue our trip further south. My Mom wanted to go home and my Dad refused. We were heading for Savannah, Georgia and then to Atlanta to meet friends. He was not going to let racist rednecks spoil his family vacation.
"Dad," I asked. "Please, can we just go home? I don't like it here."
"We're just passing through," he replied.
"But they hate us!"
"They hate what they don't know or understand," he said tiredly. "We are too different."
"I hate them too!" I yelled. I was tired and angry. "I want to go home!" And while there was plenty of racism in NYC, at least the fact that there were so many other minorities around you kept you from feeling alone and insecure. Here in this very white area, I felt we were terribly exposed. But I never forgot what he told me that day.
"If you let hate and fear rule your life, you will never enjoy living," he said. "This is not even that bad. We've seen worse hatred (yes unfortunately this is true - but I'll save it for another post) and we will probably see more. But no matter what, be proud of who you are and stand up for yourself. We have to teach these people about who we are and then maybe in the future when you grow up, you will never have to see this type of ignorance again."
He gave me a hug and said, "Despite what you feel right now, never forget that this is a great country."
So now we come back to the present day, and as we sat in the living room, after the huge American meal, with a few token Korean dishes for my Mom's sake, my Dad brought up this old incident to contrast it to our world now, where we have for the first time ever, a black President-elect. Something he never thought could happen, but which gives him great hope for the future.
"Isn't this a great country?" he said.
Yes, it most definitely is.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Freedom!
Angus came home with her usual pile of papers for me to review from school. As I was sorting through them all, I came up on the page below. She was supposed to describe 5 things all living things need. Check out number 4:
I especially like her drawings on the bottom. Little caterpillars breathing air, eating food and drinking water. One caterpillar sits nicely in its home while another flees for freedom, a little smile on its face. Her teacher is a good sport and gave her a smiley face in the middle but I may have to appeal her decision in marking freedom incorrect. I think it is an excellent answer.
I especially like her drawings on the bottom. Little caterpillars breathing air, eating food and drinking water. One caterpillar sits nicely in its home while another flees for freedom, a little smile on its face. Her teacher is a good sport and gave her a smiley face in the middle but I may have to appeal her decision in marking freedom incorrect. I think it is an excellent answer.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving and another random funny!
Today we were at Nordstroms looking for shoes when the girls spotted a beautiful fancy coat with a fur collar and fur ringed sleeves and a fur muff. The girls oooohed and aaaaahed and then Youngest rubbed the muff against her cheek and shouted out:
"It's so soft! It's made from kittens!!!" she said in an excited shout.
I know that the PETA folks would be really angry about a comment like that, but boy did that crack me up!
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates! Lucky for me my lazy butt is not cooking! I shall be eating alot instead!
"It's so soft! It's made from kittens!!!" she said in an excited shout.
I know that the PETA folks would be really angry about a comment like that, but boy did that crack me up!
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates! Lucky for me my lazy butt is not cooking! I shall be eating alot instead!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Fascinating to watch
Because my book is set in ancient Korea, it roams across the entire peninsula, from the very tip of South Korea and up and beyond modern day North Korea into what is now considered China, was once called Manchuria, and was in ancient times part of the Korean kingdom of Koguryo. The political dispute between China and the two Koreas over the ancient treasures and historic sites of Koguryo have resulted in vicious academic and journalistic backbiting over whether or not Koguryo is considered Chinese or Korean. Historically, Koguryo has always been recognized as one of the Three Kingdoms of Korea. But I don't want to get into the middle of this contentious political disagreement.
But I bring this up because the kingdom of Koguryo, which I refer to as Guru, is a major part of my book. And that leads me to my interest in North Korea. While I abhore the North Korean government and the "military first" ideology that harms its citizens, I am interested in the culture and the people who must suffer under such a harsh one-party regime. So I found this fascinating video highlighting preparations for the 2003 Pyongyang Mass Games, the world's largest choreographed gymnastics performance. These are clips from A State of Mind, which is a 2004 documentary film by Daniel Gordon which follows two North Korean child gymnasts and their families for over eight months during training for the mass games. The UK-based Dance band Faithless used clips from the documentary for this video to their single "I Want More." I hope you find it as fascinating as I did.
But I bring this up because the kingdom of Koguryo, which I refer to as Guru, is a major part of my book. And that leads me to my interest in North Korea. While I abhore the North Korean government and the "military first" ideology that harms its citizens, I am interested in the culture and the people who must suffer under such a harsh one-party regime. So I found this fascinating video highlighting preparations for the 2003 Pyongyang Mass Games, the world's largest choreographed gymnastics performance. These are clips from A State of Mind, which is a 2004 documentary film by Daniel Gordon which follows two North Korean child gymnasts and their families for over eight months during training for the mass games. The UK-based Dance band Faithless used clips from the documentary for this video to their single "I Want More." I hope you find it as fascinating as I did.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 18
This is Youngest as a toddler. Notice the truculent expression on her face. This expression has not changed much over the years. And while normally she is the sweetest, laid back, most easy going and loving kid, the kid has got a wicked temper just like her dad, Da Man Troll.
Yesterday I asked Youngest to pick up her toys.
"I'm too tired," she said as she lounged upside down upon the couch, bobbing her head off over the edge while her legs were splayed straight up the back of the couch.
"They are not my toys they are your toys and you need to put them away," I snapped.
"I didn't take them out," she protested, still in her upside down position. I paused. On Thursdays, she comes home at 12:30 and stays home with me until the nanny comes and I go pick up the girls from school at 3 and then leave for campus. It was 2pm. There was no other child in the house at the time.
"They were not out when you left for school this morning and they are out now. No one else played with them."
"How do you know?" she sat up with an innocent look on her face.
"What?"
"How do you know space aliens didn't come out and play with my toys?"
"Oh so you are saying invisible space aliens flew into our house and played with your Dora talking dollhouse?"
She nodded her head vigorously as she smiled in glee.
I stood before her and reminded her of what was coming.
"You know Santa Claus is watching you and if you tell a lie it is considered very naughty."
The above truculent expression crossed her face.
"He can see me all the time?"
I nodded. She leaned back against the couch, kicking one of her toy furniture pieces idly.
"Can he read my thoughts?" she asked.
"No, but God can and God tells Santa everything."
"Alright fine, I took the toys out," she admitted. With a heavy sigh she lay back down on the couch.
"I'm waiting for you to clean up!" I reminded her.
"But Mommy I told you I was too tired!"
"Baby, I just told you Santa is watching you!"
"Mommy, Santa is not going to be mad at me if I has an important reason. And I told you I am tired and I need my rest or I can get sick and then YOU will be in trouble with Santa, not me!!"
What a little lawyer. She is 4 going on 40.
Yesterday I asked Youngest to pick up her toys.
"I'm too tired," she said as she lounged upside down upon the couch, bobbing her head off over the edge while her legs were splayed straight up the back of the couch.
"They are not my toys they are your toys and you need to put them away," I snapped.
"I didn't take them out," she protested, still in her upside down position. I paused. On Thursdays, she comes home at 12:30 and stays home with me until the nanny comes and I go pick up the girls from school at 3 and then leave for campus. It was 2pm. There was no other child in the house at the time.
"They were not out when you left for school this morning and they are out now. No one else played with them."
"How do you know?" she sat up with an innocent look on her face.
"What?"
"How do you know space aliens didn't come out and play with my toys?"
"Oh so you are saying invisible space aliens flew into our house and played with your Dora talking dollhouse?"
She nodded her head vigorously as she smiled in glee.
I stood before her and reminded her of what was coming.
"You know Santa Claus is watching you and if you tell a lie it is considered very naughty."
The above truculent expression crossed her face.
"He can see me all the time?"
I nodded. She leaned back against the couch, kicking one of her toy furniture pieces idly.
"Can he read my thoughts?" she asked.
"No, but God can and God tells Santa everything."
"Alright fine, I took the toys out," she admitted. With a heavy sigh she lay back down on the couch.
"I'm waiting for you to clean up!" I reminded her.
"But Mommy I told you I was too tired!"
"Baby, I just told you Santa is watching you!"
"Mommy, Santa is not going to be mad at me if I has an important reason. And I told you I am tired and I need my rest or I can get sick and then YOU will be in trouble with Santa, not me!!"
What a little lawyer. She is 4 going on 40.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Brain Fart
Today the phone rang and I got up, walked into the kitchen, where the main phone is hanging on the wall, walked right by the phone and proceeded to open the refrigerator door. I stared blindly into the fridge wondering what the heck I was looking for when the answering machine clicked on, reminding me of what I was originally supposed to do.
One hour later, I walked into the kitchen to get a soda. As I was walking, I noticed Angus' harmonica on the floor. I picked it up and took it with me to the kitchen. When the kids came home from school, they went to get drinks. All of a sudden I hear them laughing. Apparently I had put the harmonica in the fridge.
I am suffering from chronic brain farts. Da Man has taken to calling me a knucklehead. I think it is all related to my dental woes. Da Man assures me that I have always been a bit of a knucklehead. He's nice. I think I shall have a brain fart and accidentally put his work security pass into the freezer.
One hour later, I walked into the kitchen to get a soda. As I was walking, I noticed Angus' harmonica on the floor. I picked it up and took it with me to the kitchen. When the kids came home from school, they went to get drinks. All of a sudden I hear them laughing. Apparently I had put the harmonica in the fridge.
I am suffering from chronic brain farts. Da Man has taken to calling me a knucklehead. I think it is all related to my dental woes. Da Man assures me that I have always been a bit of a knucklehead. He's nice. I think I shall have a brain fart and accidentally put his work security pass into the freezer.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 17
So the kids were piling in the car the other night and Angus had brought with her 2 string cheese sticks while Youngest brought in a bag of smart popcorn. As I am driving, I hear Oldest and Youngest asking for some cheese which Angus is reluctant to share. Grudgingly she finally shares half of one with Oldest and eats the other whole herself. Youngest has been steadily crunching her popcorn and asks again for some cheese.
"Ok," Angus says. "I'll make a deal with you. The rest of this cheese for the rest of your popcorn."
"Deal!" Youngest says, and hands over the bag as Angus gives her the half stick of cheese.
I can see Youngest in my back view mirror begin to quickly eat the cheese. Angus sticks her hand in the bag and shouts, "Hey! There's nothing left! You cheated me!!"
"Nuh uh!" Youngest mumbles as she shoves the rest of the cheese in her mouth.
"That's so wrong!" Angus fumes. "There's no popcorn left! We made a deal! Cheese for popcorn! You cheated me!"
"No I didn't, there was still some in the bag!"
"It's crumbs! Just crumbs!" Angus is furious.
Oldest and I are giggling.
Angust shouts, "That's not funny!"
"Well it is funny," I say. "But not nice."
"Yeah that's not nice! She cheated me!"
"No I didn't!" Youngest says earnestly. "She didn't ask me how much was left in the bag. She should have asked how much was left first. That's not my fault. That's her fault!"
Angus has just learned the important lesson of caveat emptor and Youngest has proven herself to be a devious little conniver. That's my girl.
"Ok," Angus says. "I'll make a deal with you. The rest of this cheese for the rest of your popcorn."
"Deal!" Youngest says, and hands over the bag as Angus gives her the half stick of cheese.
I can see Youngest in my back view mirror begin to quickly eat the cheese. Angus sticks her hand in the bag and shouts, "Hey! There's nothing left! You cheated me!!"
"Nuh uh!" Youngest mumbles as she shoves the rest of the cheese in her mouth.
"That's so wrong!" Angus fumes. "There's no popcorn left! We made a deal! Cheese for popcorn! You cheated me!"
"No I didn't, there was still some in the bag!"
"It's crumbs! Just crumbs!" Angus is furious.
Oldest and I are giggling.
Angust shouts, "That's not funny!"
"Well it is funny," I say. "But not nice."
"Yeah that's not nice! She cheated me!"
"No I didn't!" Youngest says earnestly. "She didn't ask me how much was left in the bag. She should have asked how much was left first. That's not my fault. That's her fault!"
Angus has just learned the important lesson of caveat emptor and Youngest has proven herself to be a devious little conniver. That's my girl.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Traditional Korean Drum Ensemble
Ok so I waited til the weekend so you can play this video at home instead of the office. See how considerate I am? This is a great example of Samgomu, a traditional Korean three drum dance. It is a drum dance of ancient Korea which is said to have been inspired by Buddhist monks dances and shamanistic rituals. This video is a bit grainy, but it is one of the best examples of Samgomu I could find. I plan on incorporating Samgomu and other Korean drumming into my Seven Kingdoms sequel, if I ever get the opportunity to work on the sequel, that is. But it is fun for me to watch this and think that my Mom, when she was younger, was an excellent drummer. I've always loved drums, and drums are such an integral part of Korean culture, that it clearly flows in our blood.
So I hope you enjoy a little bit of Korean culture.
So I hope you enjoy a little bit of Korean culture.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Poor Unfortunate Pig
I thought three consecutive Wednesdays in a row to fix a second root canal was more pain than a person could bear. But imagine my horror at finding out I have to come one more time! In part it is my fault as I didn't schedule enough time for him to finish up and I had to pick up my daughters from school. But the thought of another needle in my mouth is more than I can bear. It is way too depressing.
So another lesson I learned from my dental experiences. Make sure to push numb parts of your mouth out of the bite zone. I got swollen after 2 hours of my mouth being held open for x-rays and drilling and filling. On my way home, I noticed that I kept biting down on something squishy but was too traumatized to worry about it ... until the novacaine wore off and I realized I had been biting down on my swollen inner cheek, which was now not only swollen but all bit up and basically one big abrasion. Because my tongue and jaw are all sore from the experience, I now have to stick my finger in my mouth and push the inside of my mouth away from my chompers. This also makes eating and talking a bit of a challenge. I shove small bits of food in my mouth, which I can only open about half an inch. Any wider and my jaw hurts. I talk through clenched teeth, like Clint Eastwood in his Dirty Harry movies. I have pain killers, but apparently after taking them for several weeks now, they really upset my stomach. My dentist has given me a different prescription, but I'm also not a drug fan so I'm trying to ride out the pain. Which makes me a fool as well as unfortunate.
One more Wednesday of pain and then hopefully I will be free of this endless misery. And I can't curl up into a ball and rock back and forth nursing my aching jaw because it is getting close to end of semester. So I must turn my attention to grading tons of papers again. Here comes my big red dripping pen. I shall not be the only one feeling sorry for myself. he he.
So another lesson I learned from my dental experiences. Make sure to push numb parts of your mouth out of the bite zone. I got swollen after 2 hours of my mouth being held open for x-rays and drilling and filling. On my way home, I noticed that I kept biting down on something squishy but was too traumatized to worry about it ... until the novacaine wore off and I realized I had been biting down on my swollen inner cheek, which was now not only swollen but all bit up and basically one big abrasion. Because my tongue and jaw are all sore from the experience, I now have to stick my finger in my mouth and push the inside of my mouth away from my chompers. This also makes eating and talking a bit of a challenge. I shove small bits of food in my mouth, which I can only open about half an inch. Any wider and my jaw hurts. I talk through clenched teeth, like Clint Eastwood in his Dirty Harry movies. I have pain killers, but apparently after taking them for several weeks now, they really upset my stomach. My dentist has given me a different prescription, but I'm also not a drug fan so I'm trying to ride out the pain. Which makes me a fool as well as unfortunate.
One more Wednesday of pain and then hopefully I will be free of this endless misery. And I can't curl up into a ball and rock back and forth nursing my aching jaw because it is getting close to end of semester. So I must turn my attention to grading tons of papers again. Here comes my big red dripping pen. I shall not be the only one feeling sorry for myself. he he.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Cindy's Silver Phoenix Cover
No one wanted Ai Ling. And deep down she is relieved—despite the
dishonor she has brought upon her family—to be unbetrothed, free, and
not some stranger’s subservient bride banished to the inner quarters.
But now, something is after her. Something terrifying—a force she
cannot comprehend. And as the pieces of the puzzle start to fit
together, Ai Ling begins to understand that her journey to the Palace
of Fragrant Dreams in search of her beloved father—missing these many
months—is so much more than that. Bravery, intelligence, the will to
fight and fight hard . . . she will need all of these things. Just as
she will need the new and mysterious power growing within her. She
will also need help.
It is Chen Yong who finds her partly submerged and barely breathing at
the edge of a deep lake. There is something of unspeakable evil trying
to drag her under. On a quest of his own Chen Yong offers that
help…and perhaps more.
This is one of the most stunning covers I have ever seen. And to be honest, I couldn't be more proud of this book then if it was my own! Not only because Cindy is a friend and agency sister, but because here is a book about Asia with an Asian protagonist. Cause let's face it, there's not many YA books in the North American market with Asian protagonists. So I cheer loudly when I see books like this. (One other series is the wonderful Dragonkeeper series by Carole Wilkinson.)
Both Cindy and I know how hard it is to get Asian themed fiction in the marketplace. We both have heard from professionals who have told us that our kind of books would not sell in the current marketplace. I am so proud that Cindy has proven them wrong. So when Silver Phoenix comes to a bookstore near you next year, I hope you will all run out and purchase it. Cause it's gonna look might nice on your bookshelves!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Buying Books instead of Toys
I sprung the news on my girls today. I gathered them around me, put on my serious face and I said:
"You know how you girls write letters to Santa Claus telling him what you hope he might bring you for Christmas if you are good?"
The girls nodded.
"We haven't written to him yet," Oldest said.
"He's not sick is he?" Angus asked.
"Is Christmas cancelled?" Youngest asked in a panic.
"No, nothing like that," I assured them. They all let out relieved sighs and sat back.
"Well, this year, I wrote a letter to Santa Claus. I asked Santa Claus to do me a big favor. This year, instead of bringing toys, I asked him to bring you books."
Angus and Oldest looked devastated. Only Youngest jumped up and started cheering.
"Hurray! More books! I love books!" she said.
Angus glared at Youngest. "She's only saying that to kiss up to you, Mom."
Youngest then kissed me, proving Angus right.
Oldest stood up, ready for her lawyer speech. "But Mom, you said that the rule was no more toys for birthdays anymore, only for Christmas. And you have already told everybody in the world not to buy us toys, only books and clothes. But now Santa can't bring us any toys? That's just not fair."
"Yeah! And I was really looking forward to the Mermaid Barbie swimming pool set for Christmas and now I can't get it!" Angus geared up for the big whine-fest.
I raised my hands and glared. The continued pain I have been enduring from root canal number 2, must have given my glare extra fierceness for they all shut up real fast.
"First of all, there are way too many toys in this house and I'm getting ready for another donation pile round up next week." Muffled groans quickly quieted. They know the rules. Twice a year, I make donation piles for the local homeless shelters, more if toys begin to accumulate outside the delegated toy areas. Protests only make the piles larger, and might cause the loss of a favorite toy also.
"Second, most toys do not have any usefulness outside of the 5 day play period." (This is my theory that most new toys only gets played with for 5 days before it is completely forgotten about.) "They are a waste of money, time and space. If you want a toy it better be the most awesome toy in the universe which you can prove to me will be played with all the time." (I believe there are only a handful of toys the kids really play with and cherish, the rest just take up space.)
"Third, if a toy passes the awesome test, and if you have done well in school, household chores, and manners, and if you have saved up enough of your allowance money, you will be allowed to purchase said toy at my discretion."
"What's discretion mean?" Angus asked.
"It means when she feels like it!" Oldest rolled her eyes. (Smart girl.)
"That means never!" Angus whined.
"NO it doesn't!" I exclaimed. "Follow my rules and there is no reason I won't take you to Target when the time is right and you have enough allowance money."
The older girls still don't look convinced. Youngest is perfectly happy, but only because I have a sneaking suspicion she doesn't really understand the ramifications of my rules. As they go back to whatever they were doing, I can hear Angus and Oldest whispering to each other. With my bionic Mom ears, I heard them say:
"We should write to Santa Claus and tell him Mommy is in a bad mood because of her root canals and to please not listen to her," Angus said.
"That might work. Especially if we are really really good," Oldest agreed. "You know, she's been acting kind of weird ever since the root canals." They walked into the kitchen and began raiding the pantry for snacks. I walked over to the wall between the kitchen and the living room to spy on them through the wooden blinds in the window.
"Yeah, who writes Santa to tell him not to bring toys?! Doesn't she know his workshop is for making toys!!" Angus was still mad. "Where's he going to get books? He'll have to go to the bookstore and buy them. That's just too much work to ask him to do when he's so busy. I think she is being unreasonable!"
"That's a great idea!" Oldest said. "We'll tell him the books are too much of a bother so just to give us the toys he has in his workshop instead to make his life easier. I bet he'd appreciate that! We'll get brownie points for being considerate too!"
They nodded eagerly and conspiratorially at each other. I tiptoed back to the sofa, laughing gleefully under my breath. I can't wait to see their faces when they open Santa's gifts this year!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Hello Ello
Hi this blog is to hold this url as my name url was already taken by spammers and I can't get it back. I intend to redirect my current blog Random Acts of Unkindness to this one in the near future. But in the meantime, this will actually redirect to my other blog for now.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 16
I shall spare you all the torturous details of my latest root canal adventure as I have blocked most of it from my memory. I remember pain, convulsions and the smell of burning dog hair. I don't want to remember the rest. I can't believe I have to go back again next week for a crown. After all I have suffered, I think I'll ask for some diamond studs in the crown. It's a good thing I love my dentist otherwise I would have to hurt him.
But I will share with you one very important lesson I learned yesterday. Never eat anything really hot when half your mouth and tongue is numb from novacaine. This is a very important lesson. It is the same lesson as never eat piping hot pizza straight from the oven or you will burn the roof of your mouth and then you will have a long strand of burnt skin that hangs from the roof of your mouth which your tongue will box with all day long until you finally rip it out in crazed frustration leaving a patch of ripped off burnt skin that will ache with pain everytime you eat or accidentally rub your tongue on it - which is all the time.
In this particular case, the big problem with the numb tongue is that when you place the burning hot item in your mouth, at first you have no idea that you have given your mouth third degree burns. It is only when you try to chew and the volcanic substance hits the roof of your mouth that you realize the painful truth. You are an idiot.
So that was me when I tried to eat my frozen lunch that I nuked way too long and tried to take a bite of molten lava covered meatloaf. I quickly spat out the smoldering remains onto my plate, tears racing down my face as I realized that two things continued to be stuck to the nasty congealed steaming mass on my plate. First was a long simmering stringy strand of elastic drool. Second, a long thinly pink layer of skin which I realized was still attached to the roof of my mouth. I grabbed the drool and the skin and ripped them from my mouth, causing a sharp stabbing pain in my mouth as the skin ripped off from the the roof.
I made a small muffled sound of pain, which was still loud enough to bring Youngest running over from the living room. She peers into my face and pats me on my hand.
"You ok Mommy?"
"I'm alright, it's just my mouth hurts."
"It's the root canal?"
"Uh huh."
"The Dentist took out the nerves again?" (I had explained all about the dying nerves to the girls last week - also took advantage of the situation to really freak them out and make them brush their teeth better.)
"Uh huh."
"All of it?"
"Uh huh."
"Good! Because he didn't do such a good job last time cause you keep-ded on saying we was getting on your last nerves. But now he got it all out so you have no nerves anymore!"
She gives me a big smile and a kiss and with that the cheerful little sprite skips happily away.
But I will share with you one very important lesson I learned yesterday. Never eat anything really hot when half your mouth and tongue is numb from novacaine. This is a very important lesson. It is the same lesson as never eat piping hot pizza straight from the oven or you will burn the roof of your mouth and then you will have a long strand of burnt skin that hangs from the roof of your mouth which your tongue will box with all day long until you finally rip it out in crazed frustration leaving a patch of ripped off burnt skin that will ache with pain everytime you eat or accidentally rub your tongue on it - which is all the time.
In this particular case, the big problem with the numb tongue is that when you place the burning hot item in your mouth, at first you have no idea that you have given your mouth third degree burns. It is only when you try to chew and the volcanic substance hits the roof of your mouth that you realize the painful truth. You are an idiot.
So that was me when I tried to eat my frozen lunch that I nuked way too long and tried to take a bite of molten lava covered meatloaf. I quickly spat out the smoldering remains onto my plate, tears racing down my face as I realized that two things continued to be stuck to the nasty congealed steaming mass on my plate. First was a long simmering stringy strand of elastic drool. Second, a long thinly pink layer of skin which I realized was still attached to the roof of my mouth. I grabbed the drool and the skin and ripped them from my mouth, causing a sharp stabbing pain in my mouth as the skin ripped off from the the roof.
I made a small muffled sound of pain, which was still loud enough to bring Youngest running over from the living room. She peers into my face and pats me on my hand.
"You ok Mommy?"
"I'm alright, it's just my mouth hurts."
"It's the root canal?"
"Uh huh."
"The Dentist took out the nerves again?" (I had explained all about the dying nerves to the girls last week - also took advantage of the situation to really freak them out and make them brush their teeth better.)
"Uh huh."
"All of it?"
"Uh huh."
"Good! Because he didn't do such a good job last time cause you keep-ded on saying we was getting on your last nerves. But now he got it all out so you have no nerves anymore!"
She gives me a big smile and a kiss and with that the cheerful little sprite skips happily away.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Tribute to Moonrat
A haiku for Moonie
Moonie brings solace,
To writers without a clue.
Proud to call her friend.
Moonie brings solace,
To writers without a clue.
Proud to call her friend.
Here's to our dearest Moonrat who has provided us with so many wonderful, profound and hilarious posts on writing, editing, books, karaoke, Dearest Aunda and so much more. November 5th, 2008, is the Second Anniversary of Moonrat's Editorial Ass blog. So we are going to celebrate her anniversary with a big old party!
We've got party central prepared for the big day. Festivities include a poetry slam contest, a recipe contest, and a sing-a-long. Cool prizes too!!! While I shall be indisposed from 10AM until the painkillers wear off due to Part 2 of my Root Canal, the rest of you have no excuse! Please go by the Moonielove blog all day for the celebrations.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
The Devil's Dentist - Part 2
Where Ello finds herself suddenly and surprisingly the recipient of an Unexpected Root Canal.
Previously, I had posted on my last painful experience at the evil dentist's office. To read part 1 click here.
Having vowed never to go back to the dentist ever again, or at least until next year, it was with great dismay that I noticed a nagging, throbbing pain emanating from my right bottom back molar. I ignored it, brushing and flossing my teeth extra diligently in an attempt to appease the dental gods. All to no avail, the throbbing continued - going so far as to not only be sensitive to hot and cold, but to sweet also. When my tooth hurt from taking a bite of a piece of chocolate, I knew I had fallen into one of Dante's Circles of Hell. I had no choice. I cannot survive without chocolate, I knew I had to go the the Dev, er, Dentist.
The first thing he did was give me an x-ray. I don't understand why even taking a stinking x-ray is so terribly painful. They stick a large rectangular piece of plastic in my mouth lengthwise and insist I close my mouth. This always drives me crazy. I feel like a crocodile in some bugs bunny cartoon with a stick holding my mouth wide open as I try desperately to close my jaws together, all the while the stick is digging into the soft tissue of my poor mouth. It takes several drooly attempts before he is finally able to take a picture.
"I have good news and bad news," he announced.
"Tell me the bad news first!" I demanded. I'm all for getting the bad news over with.
He ignored me. "The good news is that you don't have a cavity! But the bad news is I think you need a root canal."
He is smiling as he says this. I am not smiling. I am thinking the pain wasn't that bad. I am thinking I need to just get up and walk out before something bad happens to me. Unfortunately, I cannot move.
"So I think the nerve has died but I need to test this theory out," he said as he began a series of unorthodox tests including a searing hot piece of cotton, a tuning fork and a needle like instrument. I don't know if he is sewing or playing an instrument, but everything he does elicits sharp pangs of agony in my bad tooth. After the fifth time he hammered at my bad tooth with his tuning fork, he announced that the nerves are dead or dying and needs to come out. He then proceeded to announce to his dental technician that he will be performing a root canal immediately.
Previously, I had posted on my last painful experience at the evil dentist's office. To read part 1 click here.
Having vowed never to go back to the dentist ever again, or at least until next year, it was with great dismay that I noticed a nagging, throbbing pain emanating from my right bottom back molar. I ignored it, brushing and flossing my teeth extra diligently in an attempt to appease the dental gods. All to no avail, the throbbing continued - going so far as to not only be sensitive to hot and cold, but to sweet also. When my tooth hurt from taking a bite of a piece of chocolate, I knew I had fallen into one of Dante's Circles of Hell. I had no choice. I cannot survive without chocolate, I knew I had to go the the Dev, er, Dentist.
The first thing he did was give me an x-ray. I don't understand why even taking a stinking x-ray is so terribly painful. They stick a large rectangular piece of plastic in my mouth lengthwise and insist I close my mouth. This always drives me crazy. I feel like a crocodile in some bugs bunny cartoon with a stick holding my mouth wide open as I try desperately to close my jaws together, all the while the stick is digging into the soft tissue of my poor mouth. It takes several drooly attempts before he is finally able to take a picture.
"I have good news and bad news," he announced.
"Tell me the bad news first!" I demanded. I'm all for getting the bad news over with.
He ignored me. "The good news is that you don't have a cavity! But the bad news is I think you need a root canal."
He is smiling as he says this. I am not smiling. I am thinking the pain wasn't that bad. I am thinking I need to just get up and walk out before something bad happens to me. Unfortunately, I cannot move.
"So I think the nerve has died but I need to test this theory out," he said as he began a series of unorthodox tests including a searing hot piece of cotton, a tuning fork and a needle like instrument. I don't know if he is sewing or playing an instrument, but everything he does elicits sharp pangs of agony in my bad tooth. After the fifth time he hammered at my bad tooth with his tuning fork, he announced that the nerves are dead or dying and needs to come out. He then proceeded to announce to his dental technician that he will be performing a root canal immediately.
“Wait a minute,” I pleaded. “let’s talk things over first. I mean do I really need to take care of this situation right now? Right here? At this very second? I mean, can't I have some time to think it over? Give me a couple of days or months or years?”
My throbbing tooth said "Listen to him, fool! Before I make you crap your pants!"
I whine like a beaten dog as my tooth sends me a vicious reminder of why I was in hell in the first place.
We interrupt this post for a brief scuffle involving my dentist, the dental technician and my lockjaw.
After holding my nose and prying open my mouth, he injected the first chopstick full of medicine into my gumline as I shouted "Unhhhhh, ungggggggg, unhhhhhhhhhh, ga ga ga, unnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, ne ne ne neeeeeeh, Unnnnnnng!" Which meant, "Oh God why have you forsaken me?" or "I hate you you miserable piece of dog excrement."
As he got ready with the second needle, I panicked and began to wail that I didn't want to do this anymore. Reaching behind me, he pulled out the laughing gas and placed it over my nose and let me breathe deeply until I began to calm down. When the nitrous oxide began to make me a little lightheaded, he asked me if I wanted the second shot now.
"No," I said. "Why would I want that?"
"Because your jaw is not completely numb yet and when I cut into the roots of your tooth to pull out the nerves you will feel it. It will hurt."
Having previously deciphered his sick code, I know that when he says:
It doesn't hurt he means It's gonna really hurt.
It might hurt means You are going to cry.
It will hurt means The pain is so bad it will give you diarrhea, possibly in your pants. This is why the chair is covered in plastic.
So he asked me again if I want the second shot. And he smiled. Again. He is always so smiley. Such a nice, smiley guy. I am not smiling. I am so far from smiling that he actually stopped smiling and looked a little nervous. After all, this is laughing gas. I should be guffawing like a demented hyena. And then I realized he wanted me to ask him for the shot. Me, the big chicken ask him for a shot. The irony hits me as I began to laugh. An Ernie laugh - you know like Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street? The one that goes kee heee heee heeee, kee heee heee heeeeeeeeeeee!
"Just give me the #$%&ing D&*% shot already! kee heeee heeeee heeeeeeeeeee!"
"You did great," he said. "You didn’t cry, you didn’t kick and flail your legs like usual. You didn’t slide down the chair. You were really good today."
“I believe I have soiled myself!” I said.
“No, that’s just your spit from when you missed the suction cup and drooled all over your pants.”
I vaguely remember the drooling, blubbering mouth rinsing mishap that he spoke of. Vaguely.
“Remember this is just the appetizer, the real meal comes next week, when we get to the real meat of the surgery,” he said.
I felt seriously unwell. “Why can’t you lie to me and tell me the worst is over?”
"Cause then you would be mad at me next week when you realized the truth," he replied.
"But I’m mad at you now!!!"
"And this was nothing, wait til we finish off your surgery next week."
“Curse you!”
“Thank you, and here is your bill. Since we are not quite done, you can pay half now and pay half later.”
I looked at the bill and the part of my brain that was still functioning completely shut down. This time, I’m pretty sure I have soiled myself.
Random Funny Things My Kids Say - Part 15
I like corn in my brownies. Hey don't knock it til you try it! Corn is sweet. Brownies are sweet. Corn in brownies are all sweet, with a little chewy. Not that bad. So where can you buy corn brownies? I'm not sure. I only get them in my hungry man fried chicken tv dinners. Yeah, I know the stuff is nasty, but when you are in a hurry and you're hungry the stuff tastes darn good to me! But I have yet to get one where the corn hadn't miraculously mixed into the brownie batter.
So yesterday, I made my tv dinner and set my corn brownie to the side as I ate. Youngest, who is home after lunch, came to watch me eat, eyeing my brownie.
"Can I have your brownie?" she asked.
"No, you just ate 2 cookies, remember? This is mine," I replied.
She was quiet for a moment, continuing to stare at the dark brown, corn studded treat.
"You know what it looks like?" she asked with a grin.
I stopped her immediately. "Don't say it! I don't want to hear it!" I am no dummy. I know where this is headed.
She was silent, but continued to grin slyly up at me. Just as I raised the brownie to my mouth for a big bite, she attacked.
"It looks like when you eats too much corn on the cob and chocolate cake and then you get a bad tummy ache, like you has diarrhea, and then you poops it all out and your poop is all covered in corn!" she shouted. "That's a corn poo poo brownie!"
I put down my corn poo poo brownie, the urge to eat its sweet chocolately goodness screeching to a shuddering halt.
"Thanks alot!" I glared down at the giggling monster.
"So can I has the corn poo poo brownie?" she asked with an angelic grin.
I shook my head at her as I watched her eat it down in a few bites. After licking off the last of the chocolate off her fingers, she started cracking up furiously.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"I was just thinking," she said as she howled in glee. "Later, when I goes to the bathroom, I'm gonna have a corn poo poo brownie poop!"
Oh the joys of a 4 1/2 year old's potty humor!
So yesterday, I made my tv dinner and set my corn brownie to the side as I ate. Youngest, who is home after lunch, came to watch me eat, eyeing my brownie.
"Can I have your brownie?" she asked.
"No, you just ate 2 cookies, remember? This is mine," I replied.
She was quiet for a moment, continuing to stare at the dark brown, corn studded treat.
"You know what it looks like?" she asked with a grin.
I stopped her immediately. "Don't say it! I don't want to hear it!" I am no dummy. I know where this is headed.
She was silent, but continued to grin slyly up at me. Just as I raised the brownie to my mouth for a big bite, she attacked.
"It looks like when you eats too much corn on the cob and chocolate cake and then you get a bad tummy ache, like you has diarrhea, and then you poops it all out and your poop is all covered in corn!" she shouted. "That's a corn poo poo brownie!"
I put down my corn poo poo brownie, the urge to eat its sweet chocolately goodness screeching to a shuddering halt.
"Thanks alot!" I glared down at the giggling monster.
"So can I has the corn poo poo brownie?" she asked with an angelic grin.
I shook my head at her as I watched her eat it down in a few bites. After licking off the last of the chocolate off her fingers, she started cracking up furiously.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"I was just thinking," she said as she howled in glee. "Later, when I goes to the bathroom, I'm gonna have a corn poo poo brownie poop!"
Oh the joys of a 4 1/2 year old's potty humor!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Awesome Agent interview over at Cindy's!
Just want everyone to head on over to Cindy's blog for an awesome interview she did with her fabulous literary agent Bill Contardi. Everything I would want to say about him is covered in her post, so the only thing I will add is that I too feel incredibly fortunate to be represented by Bill. Not only is he an excellent agent with a great reputation, but he is a really lovely man whose warm and soothing manner is incredibly calming during stressful times.
And if you are wondering, yes, these are stressful times. Cindy mentioned that she lost weight during her submission period. Well, as you can imagine, this little piggy is having the exact opposite problem. You wouldn't know I'm stressed but for the perpetual chewing motion of my mouth and the matching twitch in my eye. At some point, I might have to put a patch over my eye and pretend to be a pirate. I am hoping and praying for good news before I gain so much weight they will have to cut the side of my house off to forklift me out.
And if you are wondering, yes, these are stressful times. Cindy mentioned that she lost weight during her submission period. Well, as you can imagine, this little piggy is having the exact opposite problem. You wouldn't know I'm stressed but for the perpetual chewing motion of my mouth and the matching twitch in my eye. At some point, I might have to put a patch over my eye and pretend to be a pirate. I am hoping and praying for good news before I gain so much weight they will have to cut the side of my house off to forklift me out.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Another Old Korean Tale
When I was 10, my mother told me this interesting old Korean folk tale. Here's how it went:
Once upon a time, there was a poor old hard working widow who had 3 rude, selfish, inconsiderate children. These nasty children never listened to their mother, who worked so hard washing laundry to put food on the table. This was long ago, before washing machines, so the mother would have to take the hanboks down to the river bank. The collars would need to be unstitched and washed and then restitched. She would bang the clothes in the freezing cold water with large stones, wringing them over and over, her back aching as she squatted by the muddy bank. After a hard days work, she would come home to find the house as dirty as when she left it. (At this point, my Mom gave me a very meaningful look. Unfortunately, at the time, I did not understand the meaning.)
Her selfish children would do the opposite of whatever she asked of them. If she said to clean the house, the house would be dirtier. If she asked them to go to the river, they'd go to the hills. If she asked them to go to the village, they would go to the woods. They never listened to her. The old widow worried about what would happen to her children who were so terribly naughty.
One day, the old widow became very ill and knew she did not have long to live. She worried about what would happen to her. After all, her children always did the opposite of what she asked, and she very much wanted to be buried in the mountains next to her husband. So she called her three children to her bedside and she said, "When I die, do not bury me in the mountain next to your father, but throw me into the river."
Then she died. The 3 selfish children began to cry and feel terribly guilty for all the grief they gave their mother while she was alive. For once, they decided, they would do exactly what she wanted. And even though they felt it was not a good idea, the 3 selfish children threw their poor mother's body into the river, where it got eaten by the fish and crabs.
"Blech! That's horrible!" I said. My Mom ignored me and continued with her story.
The 3 selfish children sat by the riverbank weeping and weeping as it began to rain. They finally realized that they had once again done the wrong thing. And as punishment for all their wrongs, they were turned into 3 little green frogs who would forever cry whenever it rained.
"So what is the moral of the story?" My Mom asked.
"The moral of the story is don't be stupid. Like the Mom. Boy was she stupid!" I said.
We now pause for a ten minute penalty break.
After ten minutes of playing "hold the broom over your head or you will get beat with it," we returned to the moral of the story.
"So what is the moral of the story?" My Mom asked again.
I rubbed my sore arms. (Hey a broom may be light, but if you have to hold it with straight arms over your head, keeping the broom absolutely straight for ten minutes, you would be sore too!) Fuming mad, I gave my Mom a nasty glare and muttered, "Stupid frogs..."
We conclude this story with a lively game of chase the sassy kid with a broom while Mom berates the heavens for sending her a naughty frog child.
The moral of the story is never say stupid to a Mom wielding a broom.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Dressing up for Wal-Mart
Copyright by Radiospike_Photography via Flickr.comShoot, if she has to dress up for Walmart, what the heck does she wear for Target? Full evening gown and heels? Seriously! I wanna know! Cause I may have been inappropriately dressed whilst shopping at my favorite store. The shame!
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