Dragonfly
So, my current page count is significantly less than my initial push... just 2 more pages written and the scene within doesn't seem to be of any import (except to perhaps provide a little more insight into my main character (MC)). It's been a very busy week.

The upside is that I'm not writing in a linear fashion this time around. I'm skipping around from scene to scene and I'll worry about pulling it all together later. The downside is that in order to pull it all together, I need to get it on the computer first and then save each scene in its own file. Of course, that means I have to figure out names or chapters or something to save them as... and umm, that's not my strong suit. I have to find a way to make my scatterbrained creative self think day-job organization to pull it off. It sounds simple but totally out of bounds with how I function. I'm not going to worry too much about it just now, though, because I have much more pressing things on my mind.

Remember how I was a little trepidatious about writing while out at baseball practice because the Moms were always wanting to talk pedicures and other B.S.? How I said I was afraid of coming across rude? And remember where I said that on Friday, I was going to curl up in a corner and write during practice even if it killed me? Well, yeah...

I curled up in a corner and wrote.... And now I've been shunned from the "Mom Club". Seriously, they are AVOIDING me. Oh, they're nice and they say, "Hi." and "How are you?" and then they break off into their little group of three or four or five and spend the rest of practice whispering.

Part of me doesn't care. I just can't help thinking: OMG, how freaking High School can we get here? The other part of me is stamping her foot and cussing up a storm because: OMG, how freaking High School can we get here? *rolling eyes*

Seriously? I'm shunned because I WRITE? Because rather than listen to your cell phone woes (yet again) or the fact that you're annoyed because practice is running long (yet again), I turned on the iPod and tuned out? Because, I made myself unavailable to answer your questions of when the next game is (yet again), even though I've made sure you ALL have schedules - both hard copy and emailed?

Three words: Get. Over. It.

So. There's that. A gentle reminder of why I went through all my school years with two girlfriends, only one of which is still around... why all of my best friends are GUYS. *sigh*

In other news: Cousin Bubbles is coming to visit. Tuesday night, both she and BabySis will descend upon my house for a day of fun and ummm, well baseball. (it can't be helped, we have two games Wednesday evening)

After Sausage & Butter Bean soup (I'll post recipe & pictures) and an adventure into Double Chocolate Toffee Almond Brownies on Tuesday night (recipe & pics for that as well, if it works), we'll get up bright and early Wednesday and head out for pedicures! Yippee... because I'm sick to death of the color I got while in Florida. Then, we'll grab some lunch at one of the places where BabySis can use her little restaurant manager credit card in order to get HALF OFF. Good Dog, I love going out to lunch with her. *grin*

After that, it's off to Starbucks (because we all know that I never pass up an opportunity for my drug of choice) and then back home to get people ready for baseball. See? The coffee will be needed so the subsequent ordeal of getting boys ready for leaving the house On. Time. will not be as traumatic as usual. I'm nothing if not rational.

Oh hold on... You thought boys were much easier than girls to get herded out in a timely manner? Heh... WRONG. They're too busy playing PlayStation or X-Box or suffering from the "I can't find my shoes! Someone stole my shoes! Now I can't find my bat! Where's my bat? Someone stole my bat AND my shoes!" genetic abnormality they gained from me. I regularly LIE about what time events start in order to get there on time.

Doodlebug's game is at 5:45, but he has to be there by 5:00. So, we'll all head over there and catch some of his game. Mr. Clean is supposed to get there from work at 6:00pm (hopefully a little before) so we (the girls) can pack up Shaggy, grab him something to eat, and deliver him to his game in the next town over by 6:30 (it starts at 7:30). Once Doodlebug's game is over, he and Mr. Clean will join us at Shaggy's game. Confused yet? Cripes, I am! Is it any wonder my hair has decided not to wait for ripping and tearing; it's simply falling out on its own?

Actually, that's an exaggeration. It's not falling out... but it is a MESS. My hair hates Spring. And Summer. And any temperature above 70 degrees. Is it any wonder I love Fall/Winter? It's because of good hair days, folks. The odds of my having a good hair day over the next SEVEN months... pretty freaking slim. I'm ->this<- close to pouring a bottle of Olive Oil (extra virgin, of course) over my head and letting it sit all day. The only thing holding me back is that I'm not sure if it'll even work, and I'd hate to waste expensive EVOO for my hair if it's not going to work.

Update: Just talking about it was making me itch (I get itchy when stressed) so I slathered my head with conditioner and am letting it sit until later this afternoon. It's a pretty look. Very fashionable.

Well, I'm off to finish a spot of day-job work and then I'm taking a late lunch with some leftover grilled Italian chicken salad and my trusty legal pad. I'm thinking I should be able to manage at least two more pages. Until next time...
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