Currency Issue?

Tonight on the news there was mention of a story regarding money and the blind. I was running out the door so I missed the details, but essentially it seems somebody (somebodies?) is making an issue out of the fact that our currency is not blind-friendly. A blind person has no real way of knowing the denomination of the bill in their hand.

This startled me; I had never considered that before, but it's true. If my eyes are closed and you place a bill in my hand, I won't know whether it's $10 or $100 until I've run away with it and taken a look.

Personally, I'm hoping it's $100.

But getting back to the subject at hand, it's true that there's nothing like braille on our paper money, so how do blind people know what they're holding, and how do they avoid getting ripped off? And how has this issue never come up before, and why now?

What do you think?

I Did It!

I stayed up almost all night and hammered it out. While the manuscript itself isn't done, I have reached the 50k mark. I'll continue the story at a more leisurely pace now, and share it later.

And now... Sleep!

Harried And Hurried

Randy took the laptop- where my NaNo was stored- with him this morning without warning, so I couldn't work on it. I've got to turn my attention to finishing the novel up now.

On the upside, it allowed me to redesign my blog template. Not the best use of my time, but it's what I did.

Catch up with you later!

Almost There

I've been hard at work and I've only got just under 7,000 words left to write to win. As for the novel itself, I'd say I'm only about halfway through the plot. I really think I'm going to revisit this after NaNo is over to rewrite what I've written, and take the story to its conclusion. I like this story, and I like the characters. I usually get bored before this point, but not this time.

Ack, I've got NaNobabble-itis now. Must. Stop. Writing.

Would You Choose To Forget?

I was watching 60 Minutes tonight and they featured an interesting story. It seems that some scientists have developed a controversial, experimental drug treatment which would allow people who have suffered trauma to almost entirely forget the event that triggered it. For example, one woman was raped by her doctor when she was only 12. As an adult she couldn't bear for her husband to see her naked. After undergoing this treatment, she lost the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) that she had suffered from for most of her life. The same thing happened for a woman driving a train that hit a suicide jumper and for a woman who had been hit by a bike. They all forgot almost entirely the event that left them suffering from PTSD. The interviewer asked the rape victim if she didn't feel like a part of her had been taken away in taking away the memory, but she said that to the contrary, she felt as though she had been restored to herself and the person she was meant to be.

I've been thinking about this since it aired. There are things in my history that at times I wished I could forget, things which still cause pain sometimes. I've been diagnosed with PTSD. However after careful consideration, I don't think I would opt for the drug therapy. I feel that as awful as those things were, I am who I am today because I survived those things. I'm a much stronger person than I was before, and I don't think I would trade that. I also have a greater ability to feel empathy or compassion for others because I've been there too. I wouldn't want that removed. So my choice, were I to be offered the opportunity, would be to decline.

But I also think that it's a very personal decision, and though it wouldn't be right for me it might be for someone else. How about you? What would you do?

NaNo Update

Just under 15,000 words left to write this week, and I just might make the deadline. The book itself won't nearly be finished and the quality is, of course, absolute crap right now. But thinking on it, there may yet be a real novel within the belly of this beast which may need further extrication once the game is won and there is time to write it out properly.

Danny and the man with the 4' island have now successfully been included. In the extended entry you will find an excerpt of the novel with the latter scenario included. Lorraine was the one who challenged me with this particular scene. Lorraine, you said the island should be outside his home. He lives in this institution, so hopefully it counts?

Read on if you like, but please remember it was written in haste...

Dr. Bowman stood up and guided Kit out of the office, down the hall and out the back door. The view from here was a lovely, tranquil oasis. The grounds rolled gently down and away from the main building. Here and there were benches and gardens, some of which were being tended by other patients of Green Meadows. There was one square patch, four feet by four feet which was surrounded by a small, trickling stream. In the middle of it was a man who stood ramrod straight, guarding this small island with the fiercest of expressions. If anyone ventured too close to where he stood he bellowed at them, yelling gibberish which was yet convincing enough to turn the interloper's footsteps in a new direction. Kit recognized him as Arty. He believed that he was King of Patch Island and was very territorial. He lived at Green Meadows full time and the transient inhabitants learned quickly to stay away from this spot if they knew what was good for them. A staff member was never far away from Arty, just in case he became violent. He did sometimes, and then he would have to be brought inside to calm down. He always fought hard against this though, sure that someone else would try to usurp his crown. He wasn't far wrong, either. There were those who took pleasure in standing in his spot and declaring it theirs just because they could, because Arty wasn't there to defend his ground. They almost never attempted this when he was present though. They weren't stupid. Kit walked past Arty's kingdom, giving it a wide and respectful berth. Arty kept a watchful eye on her, only turning his attention elsewhere once she was safely out of range and obviously not a threat. He must be ever-vigilant.

Kit could see the pond ahead. It was shallow and there were always at least two staff members monitoring it to ensure the safety of the patients. Here and there she could see people wandering around. Some mumbled to themselves or to an invisible companion. Some sat perfectly still and stared off into space. There was one who sat on a bench looking across the water not quite vacantly, but everything about her body language spoke of a despondency that tugged at Kit's heart. This, she knew, was her sister Lacey.

The Dog And The Drug Dealers

Sam went to the vet's today for that follow up. The vet couldn't be positive of the exact nature of the injury though it's possible Sam's hip was temporarily out of joint based upon the description I gave him. If that was the case, however, it has corrected itself; he is properly aligned. He's going to be stiff and sore for a little while though, so the vet gave me an additional med for Sam for the next few days. There's only one thing that is irking me now:

The vet prescribed tramadol for Sam. This would be fine except that the number 1 comment spam I've received lately has been from people trying to sell me tramadol, and in putting Sam on this medication I can't escape the feeling that somehow the spammers have won. I resent that. But if it will make my Sam feel better, I guess I just have to suck it up.

At least I didn't have to buy it from one of them.

Can't Wind Down Just Yet

Thanksgiving is finally over and after a day full of compulsive over-eating I feel as though I've swallowed a couple of boulders that were laced with sedatives. While socially everything went well, we had a bad moment towards the end. My sister-in-law's dog came over to play with Sam. Sam overdid it over the course of the afternoon and for a minute it seemed as if his hind legs were paralyzed, dragging behind his front ones. I was terrified. After a minute he was able to get up and move around, but his left rear leg was shaky and unstable. We left a message for an emergency vet who called back shortly. After talking with her for a few minutes she said it's neurological, essentially a badly pinched nerve on the spine. We had to give him his pain pill early and keep him quiet so the swelling can go down, then bring him to his regular vet in the next couple of days for a follow up. He's just stiff now, much better than earlier. But he gave us a scare!

Other than that it went fine. I like having company come over, and I like it when they leave too. My house is so clean right now. For the past couple of months my living room has been torn apart while undergoing construction and wall finishing. Randy and I managed to clean everything up and now I can walk from one end of the room to the other without bumping into anything or toppling anything. I can't tell you how soothing it is to be rid of the chaos! Yes, there's still work left to do but first I need to get through NaNo. I've got one week left and I'm only a little over halfway through.

Home renovations can definitely wait.

Primed And Ready. Somewhat

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you who care to observe it!

There are a great many things I am thankful for today, and I might write about them tonight. But right now it's almost 6 AM and what I am most grateful for is the fact that the living room walls all have at least 1 coat of primer, and in some instances a second as well. I decided to give up on the ceiling; I just don't have it in me to care anymore. Randy will be getting up in a little while to vacuum and mop and put away a couple of things that I left in that far left corner. Furniture must be pushed back into place and I have the table to set, the food to warm up, the punch to make and the prime rib to cook.

I'm going to bed. Have a great day!

Before (sorry, best I could find) -

And as of a few minutes ago, primer still drying-

Please Pass The Conditioner

Most nights now you'd hardly recognize me. The result of my sanding has left me looking like an 18th century gentleman, or an English barrister: I have powdered hair. Yes, I know 18th century women also powdered their hair but mine is back in a ponytail which more closely resembles the gentlemen of the time. By the end of the night my hair is caked thickly with the dust and I catch a glimpse of what I'll look like when I'm 70. Which is pretty damn good if you ask me, but then, my current reflection is wrinkle-free. Check with me again when I actually am 70 and see what I think then. Honestly though, I won't care. I plan to let myself age and be proud of every gray hair and wrinkle. Presumably I will have earned them.

Enough of this ramble. The good news is that I have primed my first wall. I have to lightly sand a section of wall, and add a second coat of compound on the ceiling, finish priming the walls and then prime the ceiling.

Then there's the whole pesky clean-the-house and prepare for the holiday itself thing. I can't even contemplate that now. Randy bought us a wet/dry shop vac, a necessary item which will rescue my household vacuum from an otherwise untimely demise as it chokes to death on the dust. This will help with the cleaning thing.

I'm profoundly grateful for the fact that we're buying the meal from the store where Randy works so that I don't have to cook. We did this last year and it was perfect. Randy's mother will bring a salad and Randy's godmother will bring a chocolate cream pie. The only thing I have to cook is the prime rib as an alternative to turkey. Randy's family likes a choice and will often eat both. But the prime rib more or less takes care of itself so I'm not worried about it. Oh, and I'm going to make the punch I made last year which turned out beautifully. But I'm not making the pumpkin cheesecake. Delicious as it was it's too labor intensive and right now I'm all about avoiding anything that smacks of effort.

Well, thanks for following along with all of that. I've been physically tired but it's hard to turn my mind off. Having just written all of that out though, I'm now sufficiently overwhelmed to mentally wish to escape in sleep, which lately has been filled with dreams of sanding and painting.

I wonder why.

So Little Time

The room is ready for priming more or less. I just have to lightly sand a couple of places and it's good to go. The ceiling isn't done yet, but it's far less complicated than the walls were. The seams are neat and even on the ceiling, so no patching. Randy has forbidden me to do the kitchen before Thanksgiving. Being me, my first reaction was one of defiance. I thought to myself "You can't tell me what to do. I'll finish it, wait and see," or something to that effect. Not so sure about the "wait and see" part. That doesn't really sound like me. But remember how I wrote a couple of days ago that I realized I was being just a tad bit nuts over this whole project? Well, I realized I was doing it again. I'm just going to let it go. The fact that the kitchen wall and ceiling aren't done will be less noticeable if I do nothing than if I start and don't finish, leaving white spots and streaks on the wall. Nobody will care; they've told me so. Therefore why torture myself anymore?

Besides, I'm falling woefully behind on my NaNo while all of this is going on!

I was listening to the tv tonight while I was working, and I realized something. Late night NBC manages to air a commercial which aids two separate but similar demographics. By that I mean that there were a lot of diaper commercials on around 1 and 2 am. Obviously they're targeting women who are up with babies, and acting as birth control to women and men who might be about to create them if they don't remember to use protection.

Clever.

Finally, I must rave about my MT upgrade. I'm so glad I did it, pain though it was! It has a feature which separates comments from known sources such as yourselves from comments from known spambots or from suspect sources. These comments are set aside automatically in a junk folder and unless I go looking, aren't seen or posted. I received a notice today that there was a comment the software wasn't sure about, which is how I remembered this nifty feature. There were about 50 comment spams inviting us to take certain drugs, bet on certain cards and the newest one: asking Randy and I to become swingers and meet other swinging couples. I'm not sure I'm done laughing yet.

Yes, I'm glad I have that filtering feature!

No Time To Blog

No real time to blog tonight. I'm trying to get the living room banged out. I'm more done than not now at least. Hoping to start priming most of the room tomorrow. I don't care if I don't get the room painted its final color before Thanksgiving. Primer is enough for now. But I'll keep trying.

'Night all.

Dumpster Diving Diva?

We have pushed a lot of things to the center of the room while I work on the walls, and the garbage bin for Randy's desk was placed under said piece of furniture. Wheezy has taken to lurking in the bin for no discernible reason. I wish I had my camera on me a moment earlier- she went in head first with her butt sticking up in the air in a most undignified manner!

I'm Not Too Bright

I'm such an idiot.

I'm feeling overwhelmed with the amount of work left to be done. You'd think I'd be finished by now but I haven't used my time well. I work on it about 2-3 hours a day and until recently, I didn't work on it everday. Actually, it was only once or twice a week for awhile. My brother is working and going to school so he is only able to give me an hour or two here and there. I have done the majority of it myself. And this is where I behave like a total moron: Randy keeps offering to help me, and I keep turning him down! I don't know why. Even as the words leave my lips I recognize the fact that I'm being totally insane, but there you have it. I think it's a clash between my control issues and the fact that he works all day and I don't. I'm trying to validate myself or something, and I don't need to. Here's the extent of his involvement- there were a few spots where the screws hadn't been screwed all the way in so I let Randy screw them in for me.

That sentence sounds dumb but right now I can't think of another way to word it- damn that NaNo-lack-of-quality writing thing!

Here's where I am now:
- With the exception of about 10 screws (there's that word again) I have everything puttied at least once.

- I have most of the seams taped, but not all. You see, if there are gaps between the drywall you're supposed to putty first and then tape. That is if you're using self-adhesive tape, like I am. If you're using regular drywall tape, you have to putty first no matter what. Mrs. Puttyhands commanded me to clarify that point. Anyway, I have some areas taped and others still to do. The first layer of putty needs to be sanded in some spots before I can tape. In other areas I need to let the putty finish drying before I can sand and tape it. Other spots are completely done. Sadly, there are not as many of these spots as I would like. This is a large room. The best way I can describe my living room walls right now is that they resemble the pelt of an albino leopard. I could photograph it, but that would require effort on my part and I just don't have the energy to get off of the couch right now.

Should I ever accomplish all of this, I still need to prime and hopefully paint the room. Forget staining the wood or putting up the molding and baseboards. I just want the walls to look as though they might not crumble into people's food on Thanksgiving Day. I haven't even touched the kitchen yet, but it's a lot smaller than the living room and it's just one wall and the ceiling. The good news is that my brother has promised me a whole day in which he'll do the painting. It's how he earns money on the side while going to school so I know the quality of work is good.

As if all of that wasn't enough, I don't know how I'm going to get the dust out of every crack and crevice. I swear it's worse than sand.

You know, the next time Randy offers to help me, I think I'll say "yes."

Things That Stink, Or Not

First, Mrs. Puttyhands needs to address a question from Jenni:

Mrs. Puttyhands: In my apartment, there is a lingering smell of tunafish that has been there since I moved in. Nothing seems to get rid of it. Please advise.

Well Jenni, to a large extent that would depend upon the source of the smell. Assuming that you don't want to spend a lot of money on products that may or may not work, I've gone with all natural odor removal suggestions. If there's one thing I hear and read again and again, it's that vinegar will cure every ill. I've never tried it personally. I can't stand the smell. One tip I've come across for the removal of fish smell is vanilla extract. It is effective in removing the smell from the hands of those who work with seafood. Perhaps it could be adapted by mixing it with water in a spray bottle? There is also the boiling of cinnamon sticks, cloves and orange peel on low heat to fill the apartment with those odors. This is a temporary fix. If you can locate the source, I would kill it with vinegar, then kill the vinegar with vanilla, and top it off with the boiled water mixture. Or would that be overkilling it?

Alternately you could burn down the place, but then you've got the acrid smoke smell to deal with...

For the rest of you, here's a little something I received in an email today:

Cornered

After more compound sanding, it's official: I truly am the whitest white woman on the North American continent.

Mrs. Puttyhands-"If you are taping the inside corner of walls, it is recommended that you fold the tape in half lengthwise, then tuck the fold into the corner and smooth the tape on the walls. To this I would add: when using self-adhesive tape, it is best to fold the tape in half before you remove the paper backing that covers the adhesive.

Trust me on this."

Tickets

I had a really good day. After doing some research and talking to my mom, it looks like I'll be taking her and my siblings to see Les Mis on Broadway. I've never seen a Broadway show on Broadway, and this is my absolute favorite. I know all the words to every song and I've read the book both in French and English. I can't wait, but I'll have to. I think we're going to hold off until after the holidays. Since I'm buying the tickets and paying for the train ride, mom may spring for a hotel room in Manhattan for the night. I guess my brother and sister have been lobbying for that for a few years now. It's expensive but might be doable. I promised mom I'd look into it.

Then tonight Randy was checking out upcoming events at the local theater. It turns out that Gordon Lightfoot and Bill Cosby will both be appearing there this Spring. My mother plays guitar and used to play me to sleep when I was little. Mom and Dad both played back then, actually, and Lightfoot was one of their favorites. They'd play and harmonize. Those are some of my favorite memories. They also really loved Bill Cosby. We saw him perform once in Dallas; it was a great show. My mother's birthday is in March, and I think I'm going to buy tickets for her to both of these shows.

It would appear that good things also come in three's.

May I Introduce You To...

I know this may come as a shock to some of you, but I can be a little- how shall I put it?- off sometimes. For example, when I can't fall asleep I'll lie on my back with my feet up in the air and make Mr. Right Foot talk to Mrs. Left. Because they're usually pretty busy and don't often have down-time to converse, you know.

Anyway, while continuing the finishing of the walls tonight, I discovered a new personality housed within my body. Well, just one part of my body. Her name is Mrs. Puttyhands and she feels she is overdue a little blog time.

This is it.

Mrs. Puttyhands did a lot of lobbying and drove a hard bargain. The upshot of it all is that from time to time she will be given the opportunity to share her home improvement tips and insights, silly or serious. You may also ask Mrs. Puttyhands questions. If she doesn't know the answer, she'll make one up.

Tonight's insight: It is best to fit the face mask properly over the nose so that it lays snugly over the bridge. Otherwise, should you get a tickle in your nose, you might well sneeze in your own face. This is particularly disagreeable when wearing glasses.

Compounding The Situation

Sanding the dried joint compound on a wall is a bitch. Leaving aside the dust which makes me look like the Pilsbury Dough Boy attacked me with a powder puff, my arm is now begging for amputation. I've made the pre-emptive strike- without the UN's permission I'm afraid- against the pain by taking some ibuprofen.

One wall down, three more to go. At least my brother is supposed to come over tomorrow night to help some more.

Like Gravy, The Plot Thickens

As I sit here tonight I wonder to myself:

Is there anything better than changing into comfy pajamas at the end of a long day?

NaNo update: I'm now 17,306 words in and the real story is just getting under way. I've managed to work in the suggestion of including my ten favorite photos that I've taken in the past year. I'm setting up the man on the 4' island and the politician who doesn't lie now. The figure- skating Wisconsin cheese lovers are coming soon. Danny the dog will find his way into the story within the next chapter or so as well. All of these things will actually fit in without seeming improbable, too, as weird as that may seem right now since you have no idea what I'm writing. *G* I'll give you a hint though: it's the story of a photographer who is trying to juggle her career, an alcoholic mother and an out-of-control sister. Will her gallery opening be a success or will she end up in a padded cell? Will that guy be a Stud, a Dud or Elmer Fudd? Will she ever get her walls painted?

Only time will tell.

Directions

Writing As Therapy

I wrote this long, insightful post last night. Then I started editing it down. After staring at the screen for about two hours- resulting in an eye-strain headache - I posted it, then deleted it. I don't know what it would have done for any of you, but I found it cathartic to write. It helped me to understand what was actually going on in my head. Once I realized I was feeling angry about a situation and why, I was able to see my way out of it.

Sometimes blogging, even when it doesn't make the cut, can be a very useful tool.

In The Now

Elections are over. My walls are taped and speckled with joint compound in varying degrees of dryness.

Randy is sleeping.
Sam is sleeping.
Wheezy is sleeping.
Patches is either lurking in shadows, or sleeping.

I am not sleeping, just in case you were wondering if I am sleep-typing. That is a potentially damaging thing to do in one's sleep I imagine.

But I'm not currently doing so, at least that I'm aware of.

I think I'll stop type-babbling and go watch the episode of Bones that I recorded earlier tonight. It's a more productive use of my time right now than taking up any more of yours.

I Voted Today

Not that it mattered.

That's not sour grapes; with one tragic exception all of my candidates won. I'm not aligned with either major party, preferring to make up my mind on a case by case basis. I do vote mostly along Democratic lines, though.

No, most of my candidates won and that's a good thing. I'm still very angry however. Once again I find the voting process to be more of a joke than otherwise.

My first bone of contention is with the press coverage. Well, that's nothing new. I'm not a big fan of the media. In this case, with only 4% of the districts reporting and the candidates dead even, the newscasters broadcast that the Associated Press had declared Lieberman the winner in the battle against his nemesis, Ned Lamont. Irresponsible and reckless so-called journalism in the name of entertainment and ratings always makes me sputter imprecations.

But what really pissed me off tonight was the fact that in two separate incidents candidates conceded while the races were still very close and with fewer than 20% of the districts reporting in. Again, this is not sour grapes. In one case my candidate won- Chris Murphy defeated incumbent Nancy Johnson for her seat in the House. In the other I am rather bitter. Lamont conceded to Lieberman. In both of these races they made these concessions without needing to, which is bad enough. But the final straw is the fact that this means that less than a quarter of the votes cast actually mattered. And then folks wonder why people are apathetic about voting. Why should they want to when their votes quite literally won't count? Candidates should not concede when the margins are only a couple of points apart and not even a quarter of the voters' ballots have been counted. They owe it to the voters to wait longer than a sneeze before they give up. And I just don't get it. Both of the defeated candidates fought hard and dirty against their opponents (who also fought hard and dirty, though Murphy less so) with a decided determination to win. So why concede so early? It makes no sense. In Lamont's case perhaps he was misled by the false AP reports of his defeat, though in that case he was an idiot for not confirming the numbers. That outcome literally left me sick to my stomach, crying "No!" in disbelief when they announced that he was about to make his concession speech. The numbers continued to come in despite the futility, and his race remained close, at least until I couldn't watch anymore. But it isn't about whether or not Lamont or Johnson truly would have won; it's that they didn't wait for the votes, our votes that we actually made the effort to cast, to be counted. Then Lieberman, that lying old windbag, went on forever about how blessed he was by God and his constituents, that the people had clearly spoken and that we wanted Good Ol' Joe to lead us out of these dark times because I guess he's the only one who can, kind, wise and benevolent one that he is.

Whatever.

Yes, despite the overwhelming victories of my candidates, I haven't been this disgusted since the elections in 2004.

Justice

I'm NaNo'ed out for one day. I'm now settling in to watch the tv show, Justice. It's another crime drama with a twist. The show starts with the body being found, and the suspects inevitably wind up being represented by the tough team of lawyers at TNT and G, headed by Ron something or other, played by Victor Garber of Alias and Titanic fame. They walk you through from the beginning until the trial is over. Once the verdict is in, the show goes back to the beginning, to the crime as it actually happened, and we see whether or not justice has been served. It's pretty cool.

Now, a woman's body has been found on a beach, chewed up by a shark. Upon finding it, one surfer turns to the other and said "This can't be good."

Isn't that such a surfer dude thing to say?

Don't worry, it gets far more intelligent afterwards. The other characters I mean, not the surfer dudes. That would be too improbable. ;0)

And really, isn't it nice to know that regardless of the election outcome, there's still a little Justice in the world?

Yeah, I'm fried. Goodnight!

I Just Don't Feel Like It

Right now I should be applying tape and joint compound to my walls. This is something that needs to be done before Thanksgiving as we're hosting the Thanksgiving dinner again this year. If I may digress for just a second, I thought I would share the fact that when I typed "again" at the end of the last sentence, I actually typed "agin." Oh, and I just did it agin. When did I become a backwoods hick?

Must be punishment for procrastinating.

Anywho, I should be finishing the walls, but I'm not. I should be working on the cabin's walls, but I'm not. I became so involved in a project last night, I forgot all about the laundry in the washer. I just remembered it a little while ago and am now washing it again. Would one of you please remind me to throw the clothes in the dryer? I'll probably forget again (got it right this time) without your help.

On A Side Note

I was just checking out some of the search strings that brought people to my site. My favorite:

angry greeting cards mooning you.

Huh? *G*

Who Is He Trying To Kid?

I love how a certain candidate who shall remain nameless...

*coughing Lieberman into my hand*

... can pretend that his campaign strategy is lily white. With an air of great sincerity and deep sadness laden with regret that his opponent has stooped to this level, this candidate says that he is only interested in the issues and the Good Of The People. He implies that he wouldn't dream of engaging in the sort of dirty politics his opponent has been using. I take it that I'm supposed to have conveniently forgotten all the of truly ugly ads he and his supporters have been running for months because he now pretends that it never happened.

And yes, while his opponent...

*whistling, eyes skyward with a quick Lamont thrown in between notes*

... has run some terrible ads, at least he isn't trying to pretend that he didn't.

I can't tell you how glad I am that it's Sunday. It's illegal for the candidates or their robots to call me on Sundays and I've come to think of it as my day off. If I can just hang in there until Tuesday, this will all be over.

Until the loser contests the outcome.

New Invention

We should create a reverse telephonic zapper so that when politicians and/or telemarketers call, you simply press a button on your phone that sends a small electrical pulse back at them, giving them a mild shock. A sort of electric cattle prod by proxy, if you will. I know, the political messages are often recorded. In this case the zapper would fry the recording, greatly reducing the amount of times these pestilent things are willing to call your number due to rising cost of equipment replacement.

I know it probably wouldn't take them long to figure out how to work around this, but it would be fun in the meantime.

Happy, Happy Me

I wasn't going to, but I began my NaNo today before everyone's challenges are in. I just started laying out the groundwork at around 2,000 words. The background info I've written for my protagonist should allow for the creative play I'll need to include your skits without compromising the integrity or credibility of the overall plot. I'm enjoying this!

I'm really happy though for another reason. I thought that I was going to have to paint the front of the house because the rest of the house is painted and it would look odd otherwise. This has bothered me because I really prefer stain, especially when the wood siding is as pretty as ours is now. I hired an AA friend who is a painter by profession and he came out to look at the job today and go over everything. As it turns out we can stain the house! He was going to sand down the side of the house to stain it as well, but then we found a stain that could go right over the single coat of light gray paint that is currently (barely) on the side of the house without a problem. I get to stain the wood instead of painting it! I'm so happy. I just think it'll look much nicer that way. As long as it doesn't rain, the work will begin on Monday.

*beam*

My Head Is Spinning

My blog is already suffering NaNoWriMo-itis. My thoughts are swirling around the lovely plot twists I'm generating from everyone's challenges so far, and I'm feeling a little uninspired regarding my blog post as a result. I'm having a lot of fun with the suggestions, though! *G*

Do I hear a call for acrobatic ants on a trapeze?

What Will I Write?

I hope everyone had a happy, creepy Halloween? Good.

Now it's November 1rst, a very important day. NaNoWriMo begins today! There's just one problem. I don't have a plot.

Oh, I've thought about it in passing. I've known this day was coming but I was preoccupied and dismissed the impending deadline with a cavalier "I'll know what to write when the time comes." Well, the time has come and while I have some very vague notions of what I might- or might not- include in the novel, I have no idea what it will be about. And that's where I've decided you come in.

Last year among the comments in the Urban Fox's den, people began to challenge each other to incorporate certain things, however crazy, into their novels. I remembered that this evening and have decided to open it up to the floor: what should I include in this novel? Last year my challenge was to write about ninjas doing the Rockettes chorus line kicks in a courtroom. I did so rather successfully I think. So what would you like me to include this year?

I'm not asking for the plot of my novel. I'll figure that out once I know the scenarios you want me to include.

I'll give you until noon EST on Friday to submit your scene. After that yours may or may not make it into the book. The floor is yours...