Tuesday, November 24, 2009

NaNoWriMo is susiese for Ho

It is day 24 of the 30 day writeathon that is somebody kill me please National Novel Writing Month. Of course, if you started 3 days late like I did, it's only day 21. At 1700 words a day, I should be at a grand tally of some where around 40,000 words. Forty thousand. Just a hop, skip, and a jump, no?

Well, er, no. I, mysuestories, who decided to hang her artistic novel writing career on the dim hopes of competing in a contest in which some body who is actually some body may chance upon my superior writing skills and say , "hey..this shit is the shit!", and would then live happily ever after in my castle with servants who would post to this blog daily.....

Yep, it's day 23. I have a total word count of ...wait for it..... 4,180 words. Total. Somewhere I can hear Rambo's Colonel Crenshaw uttering, "It's over, Johnny".

Oh, it's not that the storyline wasn't good. It had affairs of the heart and flesh. There was the floozy girlfriend, the heartless husband, the sexless wife. And yet, the more I wrote, the more they all shared one thing in common: they were whores. Every which way I turned them, they were promiscuous little sluts served with a side of deviant behavior. My sympathetic heroine was a sleeze, for the love of God. I added in a child to tone things down a bit---next thing I know, she's giving hand jobs in the school parking lot! I was afraid to give her a younger brother...I couldn't bear to spawn a child gigolo sucking d*ck to support his playstation addiction. I mean, really, mysuestories? This is the best you could do?

My only defense is that the pressure of having to pump out words on a schedule AND the lack of time for actual real life sex sleep left me wide open and vulnerable to sleeze (Oh great! Now I sound like one of my own fictional harlots....)

Well, there is always next year...maybe I could work on a nice little children's book. You know, something that can only be found in the XXX rated book store. Now that'll make my parents proud!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Pennies From Heaven, My Ass-

I'm not big on credit cards...And I kinda pride myself on not having an lot of credit card debt. (That's not to say my mountain man doesn't have A LOT of credit debt that I may or may not have had something to do with)--In any event, I don't really do the charging thing...

I actually only have three cards, one of which is linked to our checking account and which I've been threatened advised to not ever use, since I always fail to mention that tiny $300.00 purchase two days before the mortgage is due...(hey, it was one time, and it was for shoes, fortheloveofChrist----Let ye not judge till you've walked a mile in my new Jessica Simpson pumps!)

Anyway, that one card? Sits in my wallet, at the ready, should I ever get double proofed for buying beer, smokes, gin baby formula at the local 7-11.
It is strictly for identification purposes only. When my murdered corpse is found under an over pass (would that just be in the street, then, if I was under an over pass? -What if I was found on top of the over pass? Would that make me over the over pass Would 2 overs negate one another, and then I'd just be in the gutter? See- dear reader- this is the shit that keeps me from writing the World's Greatest F*cking Novel---Sometimes? I get stuck in stupid.)
Anyhow, when Lenny Briscoe from Law & Order shows up and finds my body, it will be solely because of my unused debit banking card that I am identified....(Yeh, I know Jerry Orbach is dead, but this is my episode--and no, I do not know how or why I was murdered----I haven't gotten to that part in the script yet!!!!)
So, back to my credit card finesse...or lack thereof......In addition to the card I am not allowed to touch I do not use, we have a For Emergency Use Only credit card that I have personally never had an emergency to use for yet. I am thinking it is to be used in case of an untimely death (for mountain man, not me)and I need to hurry up and bury the body-probably before an autopsy linking me to the crime...oh, nevermind....

Suffice it to say, that's another piece of plastic collecting a lot of dust.
I also share a third shiny credit card with the mountain man..."Share" meaning I use it, he pays it, mostly! Sharing is good!
Now, generally, I use this card for every day errands; shopping, dry cleaners, gas...What mountain man charges? I've no idea. The bill comes in, he pays it, and life is good.

So, last week? I go to get gas one day, and I cannot locate the card I am allowed to touch I need. It is not in my wallet next to old stand by card (see above), it is not in the cavernous abyss that is my pocket book...I am at a loss...
I very carefully extract my Do Not Touch card, and pay for the gas. I recall the last time I used the card I Am Allowed to Touch am missing, and it was at the dry cleaners two days earlier.
I tell the mountain man as soon as I get home that
A) I had to use the card of Do Not Touch legends, and
B) The crisis is about to be solved because I know where I left the Card I Can touch!

Immediately, there is a wrinkle in the mountain man's brow--Have I mentioned how incessantly precise and anal he is when it comes to anything to do with finances? Seriously? He won't even round out a $9.99 purchase in the checking register. Heaven forbid we end up with seven or eight errant pennies at the end of the month!

I ignore mountain man's rumblings and "tsk"ing and call the dry cleaners...
After explaining my plight, the owner of the cleaners tells me that "Yes, we find card outside store two day ago." (Obviously not a french cleaner, m'kay?)
Great, I am half way out the door to pick up my lost misplaced card, when Mr. Miyagi tells me.."oh, but we no have card any moe. You no called back (yes, he had left a message the day before, but mountain man doesn't return dry cleaner calls -nor does he tell me about them either-sigh)...."You no call back. I call cledit company. They say to destoy cald. I destoyed cald."
Shit! So much for improved relations with China.

Mountain man sees me sit at the table with a pout. I can actually hear his
eyes rolling over me. Of course, having been a champion eye roller my entire youth, I merely deflect them with a "Who me?" smile, and set about calling the credit card company where I will be able to realign the planets as well as mountain man's eyes!

The credit card company agreed, that they had told my own version of Mr Miyagi to "destoy cald", and that as a * Bonus *, they had rendered mountain man's card useless as well!!!!!!! Never fear....they promised....new cards were being issued and mailed as we spoke....

Three days (and a hellofa lot of dirty looks a la mountain man) later...the cards have still not arrived, and I've had to resort to using the Do Not Touch card for everyday purchases *gasp* I know, I know...Mountain man's eyes are bucking and rolling more than a hooker at Mardi Gras. He's grilling me every night for the exact amount of purchase. to. the. f*cking. penny. Have I mentioned I don't even pennies? It's a wonder we are both still

alive at this point, no less still married....But that just may come to an end today.

Today, the travel agent called my mountain man. Apparently there's been a change in flights for our long awaited upcoming vacation. Without children. (Did I mention there are no kids going? Just checking.) The agent cancelled one flight and booked another, but there was a problem charging the second flight to the original card. Er, no sh*t. That's the one that is MIA thanks to Mr. No Tickee No Shirtee.

Mountain man called to tell me the dilemma.
"So uses the For Emergency Use Only card," I told him.
" This is a vacation, mysuestories. It's really not an "Emergency", he replied.

At which point I told him that if he did not give up that sacred f*cking card to the travel agent Right. This. Minute., I would be using that very same card for a "real" emergency. His funeral. After which I, the bereaved widow? Was gonna take a nice quiet vacation. With all three cards.
Who needs Calgon to take me away, when I have American Express?

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Write a Book in A Month Update

What the f*ck could I have possibly been thinking? Fifty THOUSAND words in a month? That's over 1600 words per day. Did I mention I started on Day 2? I'm already 1600 words behind. Shit.

I mean, who enters these friggin' things anyway? Don't these people have jobs? Families? Hungry goddamn dogs? I am three days in, and heaven forbid I have to actually go to the super market or something. Jesus H Christ! I am so afraid to waste time on anything not writing that damned novel, I have decided to only eat binding foods for the month of November. I can't afford weak constitution right now!

And what if I want to have a night out? Or a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings? Do I just buy the family Boston Market take out and hope they don't notice? (Hmmmm-note to self- check out Boston Market holiday hours).....

I am at 4000 words.... a mere 1600 words behind schedule on Day 4.

Shit. It's gonna be a long month.

And damnit! I just wasted 197 words here. Fuck!

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Sexless Tuesday

I've been missing from this little space of mine ours, and it just may get worse before it gets better. You see, in all of my infinite wisdom, I've decided to commit to NaNoWriMo..which stands for something like I must be an asshole National Novel Writing Month...Anyway, I signed myself up for a 30 day crash exercise course in attempting to write a semi-coherent little tiny 50, 000 word novel in 30 days---OK...28 days. I blew off Day 1, and Day 2 (yesterday) was actually my Day 1.

As, you, dear reader, probably know already, writing is something that I enjoy. It is fun and I get to be funny. And even if you don't show up, I still get to write and pretend my nine massive following is hanging on my every word. So why wouldn't I take the one activity I savor simply for the pure enjoyment of it and turn it into the New York Marathon for one legged sprinters?

Now? I must punch out over 1700 words a night (did I mention EVERY NITE). I have to vomit write without any real thought as to plot and story line, 'because between working full time, commuting two hours. Every. Day. , cleaning, cooking, eating, having sex.........(What's that, constant reader? Oh, you caught that, did you? I just figured I could slip that one by. Boy, you are sharp) OK, OK... I don't actually cook.....but amongst all those other things I do, I figured, what's just a littlemorepressure!!!!!!!!

So, If I am sparse here, please be patient. But of course if you know anything about my commitment level (just ask my divorce attorneys) combined with my attention span (ohhh, twinkly lights!) I will most likely have scrapped the whole friggin idea, and I should probably see you Back here by Wednesday. This Wednesday. As in tomorrow.

Hey, a girl can only go so long without sex eating!