Today I went to see the doctor about my lower back pain and the numbness in my foot. It seemed rather routine.
She took my blood pressure, told me to stop drinking coffee and try celery juice instead, gave me a prescription and some exercise routines, and then as we were wrapping up, she asked me what my husband did and what I did before becoming a stay-home parent.
Oh, I sang opera.
My doctor gets very excited and starts telling me about another opera sining patient of hers who sings with the Symphony. And then she asks me to sing for her. Just a few bars.
Um… okay… I don’t know why I said yes. Maybe because she reminded me of my old Belarusian roommate.
It was too late to lie my way out and avoid the stares from the waiting room on the way out. So I sang a few bars and she starts crying. Tearing up. Gushing and giving me career advice. Ugh. I hate career advice. If I wanted to sing, I’d be singing.
But I smiled and nodded while plotting my escape as graciously as possible.
And then about 5pm my phone rings. 858… Is it my Dad? I answer. Sounds like Marilu.
Hi Jessica, it’s Dr. Foreign-Last-Name. I have two tickets to the symphony tonight and it’s a choral … If you would like to go?
What!?!? Why did I answer the phone?!?
The worst part is that I FELT BAD for saying I had other plans (which I did).
Now that my story is growing at an alarming rate, I’m taking a moment to organize everything with a story board!!
I got the idea from the Simpson’s when Bart puts together a team to write a book.
Before, I’d been trying to keep everything organized in a document, which grew so big I could barely find anything.
Storyboarding also allows me to analyze each scene and make sure it’s important/relevant to the plot.
Only two more chapters (and a shitload of fine-tooth comb editing) before I’m done!!! Whooooo!!
I’ve been mad at Facebook for a long time, but I finally enabled my timeline and got my blog to re-sync.
I think it has to do more with Mark Zuckerberg’s I’m-a-hip-yet-nerdy-cool-youthful-billionaire-hate-able face combined with that movie, The Social Network (which kind of ruined Jesse Eisenberg for me too…)
On a side note: < rant> I am really getting sick of this nerds are cool thing. Nerds aren’t cool. They don’t wear gray skinny jeans. They don’t get the girl. Nerds are uncool. That’s why they are nerds. < /rant>
Anyhow. Hating Facebook, et al. Wishing they had made a movie about Google so I could properly hate on them for not paying their taxes and making employees feel bad about drinking cokes by putting a red line on their shelf in the fridge where they’re offered up for free.
I also updated my Twitter account if only to have a variety of profile photos.
Time to shift my hating towards the racist North Hollywood Target. “Come buy our crap, working people. But let me check your receipt on the way out.”
F&*$ you, dude. If you wanted to know if I paid for this $64 tricycle that I should have stolen, then you should have been around to help me while I was lugging it out of my cart because the cashier was too lazy move from behind the register. This isn’t Costco, you’re not counting my items. See-ya.
Awwwhh yeahhh!!!!! Things are moving along much faster than I anticipated! I should be done with a (very) rough manuscript this weekend – just in time for the break!! So exciting!
Much like the time I discovered why Calculus was important, I am now realizing why a comprehensive vocabulary is important.
Yesterday I used the word uningnorable. Doubleplusgood is only a hop, skip, and a page turn away. Sigh. Guess it’s time to invest in a thesaurus… and maybe one of those new-word-a-day calendars.
So after finishing my NaNoWriMo project, which I am sure with enough digging, editing, and re-writing one would discover a decent story and not just a bunch of junior-high girls grown up stuff, I took a day (I’m a fast reader) to gobble up Stephanie Meyer’s The Host and became inspired to start a second story.
A real story, with a hero and an antagonist, a plot, a climax, an awesome sex scene (which I later had to … erm, calm down), and an ending. I spent the first 14 days of December writing. And then Christmas came and I got fat off of Ammonia cookies.
But after getting sick (and losing 5 pounds of ammonia cookies) I jumped back on the writing bandwagon, determined to have my story finished by June. I’ve been doing so much writing that I’ve developed pain in my wrist.
Thank goodness for the Internet — who knew there were exercises for your wrists?!? http://www.safecomputingtips.com/carpal-tunnel-exercise.html
Ok back to work!
So I’m at McDonald’s killjng two birds (park and dinner) with one stone when this shitty little girl come up to me and asks if Mylo is a girl. Ok. Mylo is wearing a blue shirt with a blue flannel and khaki pants. He’s sporting a tight mini-fro not some long I-can’t-bear-to-cut-it flowing tresses. Oh. And he’s wearing pink crocs.
So that must mean he is a girl.
I had to bite my tongue not to answer the seven-year-old with a smart assed “Does he look like a girl?” or “Are you retarded?” remark.
Five minutes later she’s complaining to me about Jaxon wanting to play with her. At least her mother rescued me from that nightmare.
I don’t think shitty ass smart mouth kids should get a pass just because they’re kids. It usually leads to shitty ass adults.