Pervy Spider

So there's this total perv spider clinging to the outside of our bedroom window, and it's starting to creep me out. S/he stays out of sight until things get, uh, interesting and then--wham!--there s/he is! It's sick! I hate spiders, like, heebie jeebies hate. *Shudder*

I got lots of great advice yesterday on my missing/corrupted file problem. It's going to have to wait until I switch to another laptop though. I can't afford to have my laptop out of my sight until then. I write every day. I'm addicted to this laptop. Seriously. I made the mistake of conditioning myself to write only on this laptop at this specific table in my squishy chair in the living room. I'm getting to the point where I can sometimes work on the couch or upstairs in bed, but I'm not as prolific. It just feels wrong.

Oh, and Dave-O and I ventured into the flourescent orange and blue hell that is the AT&T wireless store. I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't get pressured into buying a new phone the second I walked in the door. They must have just had one of those meetings where they encourage associates not to attack customers like salivating hyenas.

Anywho. The guy behind the counter banged my phone around a bit, knocked out the SIM card and slipped in a new one, and yeah, nothing worked. I had one of those John Constantine/Gabriel moments: You're fucked.

I ended up dropping $250 on a new phone that should be here in two days. Yeah. Ouch. I'm not eligible for a free phone upgrade until September so I had no choice but to buy a new phone at a slightly discounted price. I figured Dave would crap a brick since I'm always teasin him about being tacano. (I even do the hand sign. God, it cracks me up.) But he didn't even blink an eye at the total. He was just like if that's the phone you want, get it. And I did.

He's weird like that. The man's a natural bargain hunter. He'll spend ten minutes in the peanut butter aisle scrutinizing the price per ounce of crunchy peanut butter brands before making his choice. (Oh, and we never buy smooth. Let no man or woman come between Dave and his crunchy peanut butter.) To be fair, I'm the same way. I spent three weeks researching mattress sets before we whittled the list down to three and then finally one. What can I say? We're weird like that.

I guess that's a good thing. We may only save a few pennies here or there but it adds up over time. It was nice not to have to panic about the impact of a new phone on the budget. When I see people putting cell phones and other stuff that's going to crap out sooner rather than later on credit cards, I always grimace. I just want to shake them. Double Crapping Damn! Don't they realize they're going to be paying that shit off years after that phone is scrapped? I've heard enough horror stories of friends/family putting weddings, jewelry, vehicles, furniture, shopping sprees and vacations on credit cards. It scares the poo out of me.

Anyways. That was my day.

Oh, and as far as the Sweating with Sven 70 Days of Writing Challenge goes I am kicking ass. Since March 1, I've written 52,371 words. I've completed, edited and submitted an erotic novella to my publisher. I'm three chapters into a new novel and working out the kinks (har har, get it?) on an erotic romance idea for a menage and more anthology.

And on that note I'm off to, uh, research. Yeah. Research.

Death to Technology

Oh, god. Have you ever had one of those weeks where everything goes wrong?!?! Yeah. That's been my week. I won't go into details about the personal and professional poo plaguing me. I will, however, rant about the crushing wave of tech problems I've had since 3 this afternoon.

So a few days ago I was copying folders of story ideas, synopses, manuscripts in various degrees of completion and other random crap to my external hard drive. I was in a rush (we won't go into why, sigh) and I didn't think to backup all the files I was moving on CDs. Today I decide to sort through them, maybe find a few gems to add to my yearly writing plan since I've already completed half of the novellas on my list. I start opening and skimming word docs. Most of them are perfect and intact but some of the biggest files, files that should have 150-200 pages don't. They have 13 or 17 or 21 pages.

I panic and race over to my Recycle Bin. I rarely empty it, and the few times I've tossed something by mistake I've always been able to rescue it. Here's the weird thing. Of all the files that I moved to my F drive and then chunked, only the corrupt files are missing in the Recycle Bin. Seriously it's as if someone went through my Recycle Bin and trashed the original files they knew I would need.

Forehead meet desk. Repeat. Repeat.

I was crushed. I mean, we're talking years of work. This is stuff that I wrote in high school or the early years of college. It's not ever meant to see the light of day cuz it's horrible, lots of purple prose, way too many adjectives, etc. But still... They meant something to me. As a writer, it's nice to look back at your old stuff to see how you've grown. It's also great compare it to your new stuff when you're feeling iffy or down about a particular chapter or scene. And now I can't do that. I sooo wish I could blame it on someone else, but I can't. It's my fault. I should have backed everything up and I didn't. Painful lesson? Oh yeah.

So I'm thinking, OK, this has to be the low point of my otherwise shatteous week. Right? WRONG!

Thirty-seven minutes ago my beloved W810i flashed the White Screen of Death while I was trying to send a picture text. I've tried rebooting the damn thing and have followed all the troubleshooting protocol. It's fucked. Normally this isn't a big deal (I've had phones die on my before) but I haven't saved any of my newer pics or updated phone numbers to my SIM Card or the memory stick. Fuck! Fuck! Fuckity! Fuck! Fuck!

I so want to wallow in despair and eat lots of junk food, but I can't. I got rid of everything that's tasty because I need to be more militant about treating this horrid disease ravaging my ovaries. Part one of that is better weight control. I'm almost tempted to run out to the closest convenience store, but oh wait, I can't drive at night.

AAARRGGHH!!

So anywho. The Jane Austen series on PBS continues tonight. Hopefully that will cheer me up. L8R.

Shady, Shady

So Dave came home from a 36 hour shift yesterday evening (like sevenish) and we decided to run some errands. We get into the truck and the first thing I notice is that Dave smells really, really, really good. It doesn't help that he's in his uniform which automatically puts me in omg-I'm-going-to-ravish-you-right-now mode. For a split second I considered knocking back the driver's seat and hopping on for a ride--but then I remembered that we were in the driveway and I'm quite certain that public naughtiness is something our Home Owner's Association would frown upon which brings me to the point of the post: Does anyone else have a shadowy HOA?

Seriously, folks, I'm quite convinced that our HOA is a branch of The Illuminati. Yes that Illuminati. No one in the subdivision has a copy of the HOA policies. No one has ever spoken to or interacted with a member of the HOA. It's always, "Well, so and so down on the cul-de-sac said that so-and-so in the two-story on the corner said that the couple in the red brick ranch across from the swimming pool and park got a notice about their water hose coiled in the front yard."

Riiiggghhhhttt.

Our neighbor did receive a couple of HOA tickets in the mail because of his improperly mounted satellite dish (we can't get cable out here) and because he had this hideous Itasca Spectrum RV (circa 1970) parked in his driveway. That thing was an eyesore. Other than rust, the dominant paint color was baby poo yellow with splashes of UPS brown. Horrid. Horrid. Horrid. It squealed when he started it too. I'm not sure what the hell he was doing to it. Right before he moved it to his dad's carport (to avoid more tickets) it looked like a combination taco truck/ice cream truck.

The reason I know this is because he told Dave the whole sordid tale. He also told Dave that he's refusing to pay the $300 annual dues because he's never seen the printed policies. Since we're considering some landscaping, I started to worry. Five days of detective work led me to the website for our HOA and a list of the most vague policies you've ever read. In short just about any improvements to our home or lot could be interpreted to be in violation of the badly defined policies.

I know what you're thinking. Why didn't we ask for a copy of the HOA before closing? Funny thing. We closed on the house two days before the wedding. Yeah. We were simultaneously building a house and planning a wedding and coordinating a move. I was also hammering out my first publishing contract, weeding through copyedits, etc. It just slipped our minds. Stupid? Yeah. But there you have it.

To avoid any future problems, I'm just going to submit in writing my request for approval of proposed improvements. I figure that as long as I have a paper trail and a written/signed letter of approval from the HOA we're fairly safe. Hopefully. Maybe.

Oh, and just for the record, there was absolutely nothing about driveway nookie in the listed policies. Wheeee!!!! Yet another entry I get to add to my huge list of "Strangest Places!"

Update

Haven't had a lot of time to post because I've been writing up a storm. I seem to have recaptured my old pace which is such a good thing. Last night I received my release date for ILLICIT BARGAIN so now I get to start thinking about promotion. It doesn't release until November 7th so I have plenty of time. I'm a chapter away from finishing my next novella and hope to have that one submitted to my editor and contracted by the end of March or first week of April. I've also been discussing a sequel to ILLICIT BARGAIN with my editor. We'll see how that works out... Then, of course, I have a full length erotic romance novel on the back burner. I'm planning to start workign on it as soon as I get my current WIP out to my betas.

Busy. Busy. Busy.

Dave went on a spring cleaning rampage yesterday. It's not easy to write when your husband is banging around in the kitchen and cleaning carpets. Eventually I just gave up and went upstairs. The carpets look really good now. You would not believe the crap Dave pulled out of them. Having a Great Dane in the house 24/7 is hell on the carpet.

We bought a new mattress set on Saturday evening but it wasn't in stock so it won't come in until next weekish. That gives us plenty of time to clean the bedroom carpet and such. Oh, and we went grocery shopping at HEB after that and, OMG, we ran into a friend's abusive ex-boyfriend. Dave spotted him before I did and stepped between us, sort of shielding me so I didn't have to make eye contact. We'd all thought he'd left Texas but apparently not. Dave did a little digging and found out that this horrid man still works for a Texas EMS company. Needless to say the entire experience was a fucking shock.

Other than that I'm stressed over my meds. They're not working any longer. I'm pretty upset about it, like, sobbing in the bathroom upset. I had such high hopes that correcting my hormones would be the answer, but apparently not. This could mean that Dave and I are no longer eligible for some of the less expensive options of fertility treatments like Clomid and Metformin. We may have to go straight to IUI, trigger shots, and even IVF. Sigh.

I've also been having sudden drops in my blood sugar levels. I'm talking shaking, diaphoresis, and ringing ears. It's very unsettling since, you know, I'm basically home alone most of the time. I didn't start having blood sugar issues until I started taking my meds. I mean, I'd had some hypoglycemia problems as a kid but nothing like this.

I'm not thrilled about the prospect of trying new combinations of pills. When I started this regimen, I went completely insane for about six weeks. No really. I wept when I ran out of paper towels, people. Wept as if my best friend had just died. It was pathetic. But what can you do, right?

So that's my update. Back to work!

Wheezing Shampoo Demons

Quick break from the all night writing fest to blog. Today (well, yesterday, I suppose) was a pretty miserable day weather-wise. I woke up early for a breakfast date with Alison, and omg, it was storming so bad. I have this irrational fear of showering when there's lightning, but I muscled through it and hopped into the shower. Okay, stumbled, I was freakin' tired. I'd only gotten 2.75 hours of sleep.

When it was time to wash my hair, I realized that there was still at least one dose of shampoo left in the tube. (Am I the only one who finds those damn Brilliant Brunette tubes annoying? Seriously, wtf? Who designed those things?) So there I was squeezing away and the tube was making these horrible wheezing noises, and suddenly, I hear this snarling bark and the shower curtain goes flying as Bosley tries to attack the shampoo bottle. I almost pissed myself! I jumped and slipped. I ended up smearing the shampoo I'd managed to squeeze out of the tube on the shower tile as I tried to steady myself. When Bosley realized that there wasn't some wheezing shampoo demon trying to attakc his mommy, he stopped snarling and started lapping up the water droplets on the edge of the tub and shower curtain. He looked so pleased with himself for acting the brave protector that I couldn't bring myself to chastise him. I just splashed him with water and listened to him scamper back into the bedroom.

Sigh. What a wonderful start to the day, no?

In the end, Alison and I agreed to rain check until the next time she's in town. I was disappointed since I really wanted to catch up with her. Luckily we both have phones, lol. Call Alison is the first entry on my to-do list for toay.

Since breakfast was nixed, I stayed up until my hair was dry and then crawled back into bed. Of course Bosley had other plans and continued to whine and nudge until I woke up and let him out--again and again and again. Sigh. Finally caught a few hours of sleep but woke with a horrendous jaw ache. After a little perusing in the mirror, I realized that I have some wisdom tooth shrapnel working it's way out. Apparently this is normal. Whatever. At this point I'm just drinking warm tea and ignoring the pain.

So that's it. Yet another entry about my oh-so-exciting life. I'm going to get back to writing and enjoying my ice cream and Murder, She Wrote marathon on Netflix.

Happy Birthday?

Since Bosley was rescued from a horrendous puppy mill where he was malnourished, chained and held on bare concrete, we have no idea when, exactly, he was born. His foster mommy's and vet's best guess was March 1-15 of 2007. Because of that I have no idea when to wish him happy birthday. To remedy this I've given him big snuggles and shouted "Happy Birthday!" every day since the first of March. Effective? Yes. Weird? A bit...

He hit another grown spurt these past two weeks. He's been sleeping a lot, thinned out, and moves a bit slow. Since I see him every day I'm always the last one to recognize that he's grown. He slammed up against me last night, and I realized that his back now hits my belly button. Two weeks ago, it hit my hips. Cripes! He's also up to 80 pounds of food a month.

If you factor in the bananas, oranges, apples, carrots, broccoli, spinach, and cheese, it's probably closer to 90. And yeah, he totally hearts fruits and veggies. When I'm prepping dinner, he waits until I turn my back and then snatches whatever the hell he wants right off the cutting board. Dave got him hooked on oranges and bananas. It's like crack to him. If he hears that snapping sound bananas make when you start to peel them, he flies into the kitchen. If he smells oranges, same deal. I've had to start taking his munching into account when I draw up my grocery lists, lol.

Right now the drooling behemoth is sleeping across my calves. I lost feeling in them half an hour ago. There's no moving him so I'm pinned here until His Majesty decides to wake. At least I've got my laptop with me. Oh, and the remote, cell phone, and a glass of tea within arm's reach. Heaven help me if I have to potty...

Bedrest

So Monday evening the Migraine Fairy visited and whacked me with her Migraine Stick. I really thought I'd maybe, you know, grown out of my migraine phase since it's been years since I had one. I still get the occasional killer headache but nothing like the horrendous migraines that I used to get in middle and high school where I'd black out in one eye, have nosebleeds, incessant dry heaving, etc for hours on end.

Anywho. This one was bad on a colossal scale and I spent the night vomiting/dry heaving/weeping. Bosley was super confused by the whole situation and did a lot of nervous pacing and whining. Dave was at work, and I'm sort of ridiculous about asking for help when I obviously need it. Had I simply called and said, hey, um I'm dying, he would have been home as soon as possible, but yeah, I felt guilty about asking him to come home because I'm weird like that. In hindsight I probably should have gone to the ER.

By the time Dave got home I was passed out in bed. Let's just say that he was none too pleased that I allowed myself to get to the point of exhaustion/dehydration I'd reached. Just going to vote yesterday evening almost made me pass out but I'm such a civic duty nutter that I just *had* to go.

Today I'm in still in crap shape and confined to bed per Dave's orders. I'm rehydrating, eating, and resting. For once I'm not fighting him on something. I hope he doesn't get used to it, lol.

Vote!!!

Fellow Texans, time to get out those voter registration cards (or your driver's license if you've lost your card, you know, like me) and head to your polling place! Dave and I are heading out to vote as soon as he gets home from his shift. We're voting at a community center in W. although, technically, we live in CS. Sort of. Kind of. It's hard to explain...

Oh, and am I the only person who thinks it odd that churches can be polling places? That is so bizarre. You'd think that whole separation of church and state would come into play...

Sven Says Sweat!!!

Today is the kickoff of the 70 Days of Sweat Challenge!!!! If you're curious, I blogged about this a few post ago so scroll down. Basically between March 1 and March 16 (really 77 days, but there are 7 off days built into the challenge) you challenge yourself to write 850-1500 words per day. The ultimate goal is to finish a novel during the challenge.

I have two goals. The most important is to write 1500 words per day. I don't care how those 1500 words are allocated. I just need to get them done because I've got projects lined up, and I'm running up against deadlines (internal and external.) My second goal is to finish my YA novel.

I will freely admit that I don't do well when told that I have to create x number of words in y amount of time. Between 1445 and 2100, I wrote 47 words. Yeah. I know. I had a holy poo moment too. Finally I switched on some Explosions in the Sky, closed all my browser windows, poured some ice tea, ate a handful of dried cranberries and forced myself to stop dicking around. Between 2100 and 1200, I wrote 2849 words. Woo-hoo!!!

I think I've earned a Perez Hilton break...