Whoops

Okay, who put the world on fast forward? Another week just flew by. Make that almost two weeks. I suppose when you throw in a weekend at the beach, parental birthdays, lots of work, christmas cake and pudding concocting (christmas - that can't be right, surely) and general running around, things fly past fast.

Of course, the fact that the suppliers of dvd crack have ponied up both Battlestar Galactica Series 3 and Gilmore Girls Series 7 and the muse wanted to rewatch Band of Brothers, means mucho quality couch time in between things. Though, sadly, I have not yet had time to re-watch POTC 3. And that is seriously wrong. Maybe I need a pirates marathon in between all the other marathons.

I'm not sure what the girls are cooking up but they keep giving me flashes and snippets. Still not that interested in letting me translate said snippets into work but at some point all of this refilling the well has to reach critical mass. Or else my brain will explode. And then I will not be able to do any christmas shopping and all will be bad. The only good thing about world fast forwarding is that I only have 10 work days left before lovely lovely holidays.

And now, because my brain probably can't come up with anything else coherent you should go check out Jenny Crusie's awesomely cute new dogs while I give myself a stern talking to about how I cannot have a puppy.

Thankful

Happy Turkey Day to those in places who celebrate such things (it's still Turkey Day there). Eat pie for me : )

I'm thankful because I'm off to the beach for the weekend with the lovely lulus, where there will not be pie but will be lots of other yummy things and naps and writing and general silliness....so catch you later!

Biking on down the highway

So. The pants, they eez less cranky. Not completely uncranky but improved. Maybe the endorphins have helped after all. Exercise is weird. I enjoy it, I enjoy the feeling after doing it and yet, over and over again, I have the mental battle with myself to get started. Sheesh. My inner athlete gets drowned out by my not so inner couch potato. My inner athlete needs assertiveness training. I've never been able to figure this out. But much like the writing at the moment, I am gritting my teeth and making like Nike. Except this morning when I woke up with the intention of a ride just after breakfast only to find it was 28 degrees already at 9am! Luckily it cooled down so I went at midday. Only to bike through four seasons in one day in true Melbourne fashion. But I did an hour and that's not so bad when I've only just started riding again. And my butt does not seem to be sore so far!

In other news, making like Nike is helping terribly much, writing wise. The muse still continues to have the attention span of a hummingbird with ADD and the ejector button on my writing chair (you didn't know that writing chairs had ejector buttons, did you) is working just fine. I've resorted to scribbling snippets in long hand so have no idea how much I've done but it's easier than sitting down in my chair only to find myself up and wandering after two point three minutes. Times like these you just have to keep trying and something will stick eventually and it will stop being so painful. I know this. I've been here before. I just have to, like with the exercise, keep reminding myself. I think something is getting closer. The muse is perking up her ears at strange songs on the radio and making me watch weird movies, so something is definitely brewing. I just hope it's cooked soon.

And now, I have to indulge my inner revhead and go and watch Top Gear. If someone could explain to me why I, who have very little interest in cars other than to occasionally think "pretty but why would you spend that much money on a car" and less than zero interest in car racing, find this show so entertaining, I would be grateful. Maybe I'm just strangely drawn to British men with a sense of humour. Either way, excuse me while I go watch a show about cars and driving fast and brake horsepower and other stuff that goes straight over my head.

Cranky again

This is not my favourite time of year. It's the time of year where I start needing a holiday. The day job has been busy, busy, busy for the last few months - and it usually just gets crazier before Christmas - and the muse is still refusing to settle down and write something consistent. I get trickles - like the other night - but none of that satisfying flowing stuff which writers kind of need to keep their brains on an even keel. Or at least this writer needs that. Which is making me frustrated and irritable.

So I'm cranky. Grumpy. Snarly. Generally charming, you get the picture. Of course, I don't get to be grumpy and cranky and snarly at work, so it's my poor cats and others who get grumped at.

I'm even exercising to try and shake off the mood and seriously, either the endorphins need to kick in soon or my legs will fall off.

If I was in a sports movie there'd be a montage of me pounding punching bags and running up and down hills and snarling at my trainer. Of course, if I was in a sports movie I wouldn't be a frustrated writer so there wouldn't be a need for me to do any of the above.

Right now I'd love about a month on a desert island with me, some music, great food, great books, some good dvds and my computer. And nothing else. Serious hermit time. Then I might be fit for civilisation again. Instead I get six more weeks until Christmas holidays.

So, what does one do to shake off the crankies? Suggestions, oh wise internet? Other than chocolate. Because if I'm going to be wearing cranky pants, at least the exercise has to make them looser!

Here we go again

All right. It's official. My muse has ADD. I had a plan for this month. I'd decided to work on a particular book just to kick something (anything) along after a couple of slow months. So of course, all week I was getting ideas for Wolf 2 (not the book I'd picked).

And then last night a title popped into my head. Which I reacted to by thinking "okay cool, that could be a couple of things, let's write it down".

And then tonight, at midnight (freaking midnight...I was asleep) I wake up with a first line which is rapidly followed with the idea for a whole first scene. The sort of idea that you think "man, that's pretty good" and really can't risk just going back to sleep and waking up with only fog and wisps and it's lost forever.

So I just started a whole 'nother book. One that I have absolutely no idea where it might be going or plot or conflict or any of those useful kinds of things. I don't even know the heroine's name yet. But the muse is happy. And I've even gotten snippets of the next scene. But I so did not need to start another book right now.

Much like I so did not need the diet coke I just downed to wake up enough to get the scene down. Something tells me I'm going to be up a while longer. So much for getting up early in the morning. Writing, I tell you, is not a straightforward thing at all.

And now for something nice

I hear via Nic's blog that the gorgeous and talented Ally Blake has had a baby girl!

Congrats, new mama!

A note to the orange cat and the grey cat

My first point: You are both too OLD to be catching mice. Neither of you missed catching mice for the last seven years or so. One of you has nearly no teeth. The other tends to be scared of shadows. What does this suggest to you? Right, too OLD.

My second point: If you persist in the delusion that you are not too old to be catching mice then the rules are that you either;

(a) Eat the damn thing and give it a decent burial in your digestive tract; OR
(b) Leave the corpse outside somewhere. Preferably in the neighbour's yard under a bush or something where no-one (particularly not me) has to deal with it.

My third point: Any mouse either of you can catch must be pretty near death anyway given that you are both no longer spring kittens as discussed above. This means diseased, old or possibly poisoned. You don't want to be having with any germ-infested, stringy or strychnine-laced mice. You have been warned.

PS Corpsified mice are gross. Don't gross out the person who wields the can opener. Just sayin'.

Anyhoo

Five days went by and I didn't really blog. Bad me. On the plus side, I am one day into my gruelling two day week, this week. On the minus side, being back at work means my five day mini-vacation is all over. Wah.

The weekend in brief would go something like, exercise, housework, reading, HT folding, sleeping, reading, exercise, catch up with friends, eat lamb shanks, sleeping, reading, think about book, watch DVDs, have massage and facial, do RWA stuff, nap, think about book some more, exercise, sleeping, go for bike ride (discover you live in very hilly area and puff a lot), nap, write a little, reading, sleeping, coffee at borders with VT, shop a bit, write a bit, realise it's back to work tomorrow and say WAH.

So that was that. Today I tried a pilates reformer class for the first time and had fun...though I think my thigh muscles might disagree with me tomorrow. Good to try something new though and I'd like to keep doing it. Slowly getting back on the eat right, exercise regularly wagon so every thing helps.

And now, it's almost time for House, Wednesday night being TV night.

PS Body still not convinced re whole getting up hour earlier daylight savings thing but on a very mild late spring evening with lots of sun, I'm kind of starting to remember the good side to the whole idea : )

Score

Yay, I officially have five days off work. Five days of writing, reading (stocked up on books at the launch of Sizzle, Seduce and Simmer tonight) and trying to convince my body that yes, this daylight savings thing is here to stay for a few months.

More news as it breaks....