jennsylvania

The Correct Answer Is D

Hey, how about a little something for the laaaydiees?

So, what do you think Fletch is about to do while clad in this tool belt and hundreds of dollars of power tools? 

Is he:

A)  Adding a solarium onto the house?

B)  Installing a roof deck or possibly an entire third floor?

C)  Rehabbing the master bathroom?

D)  Placing two tiny screws in the wall to hang a curtain rod (which I totally could have done myself except he gets all stabby when he sees me try to build stuff with roofing nails and the heel of my loafer?)

And yes... I know.  I haven't posted anything for a week and the best thing I can think to put up is a photo of my husband's narrow ass?

You're welcome.

UPDATE:  So I decided I was perfectly capable of putting the curtain tie-back up myself.  I even used the big girl screwdriver. 

And it was totally fine.

Until I placed the filial finial (spellcheck doesn't correct it when you spell the wrong word the right way) on the end of it.

I may owe a certain flat-assed someone an apology.

I'm Back! (Until Tomorrow)

Setting:  The front hallway, right off the living room.  My giant suitcase is open and I'm sorting its contents into piles before I take it back upstairs to re-pack for Boston.  Fletch sits catty-corner in the living room watching me work.

Him:  What's that big stack of colored paper?

Me:  These are gift bags.  Check out some of the presents people brought to my readings!  (use Vanna White-type skills to lift and display items such as engraved bookmarks, gourmet caramels, hand-crafted mugs, Target dog, etc.) 

Him:  Wow.

Me:  I know, right?  How cool is that?  I'm just glad people actually come to these things.  Presents are totally a bonus.

Him:  (points) What kind of wine did you get?

Me:  (gestures to the bottles) These are all Chardonnay.

Him:  But I thought you only drank German wine.

Me:  No, honey.  That's you who doesn't drink Chardonnay.  I like anything white.  Plus, I'm always writing about "sweating Chardonnay" because it sounds funnier than "sweating Riesling" so I imagine that's why people chose what they did.  Also?  You should have seen all the cupcakes I got!  One girl made me Margarita flavored ones and they were about the best thing I've ever tasted.

Him:  Oh.

(long pause)

Him:  (looking thoughtful) Hey, you know what you should do?

Me:  What's that, honey?

Him:  Before you go to Boston, instead of saying you like wine and cupcakes, you should tell everyone you like bourbon and five dollar bills.

* * *

Speaking of Boston, don't forget I'll be at the Borders on 511 Boylston St. at 6:00 PM on Wednesday, June 25!

(No bourbon or five dollar bills required.)

Feeling Minnesota

NOTE:  THE MINNEAPOLIS PAPER HAD THE SIGNING TIME WRONG - IT'S DEFINITELY AT 7:00 PM!

* * *

I'm going back out on the road in a few hours.  But before I go, I had to post this line from a note I got from my friend Shayla in Minneapolis:

Since you'll doubtless be surrounded by gushing adoring fans, I can also serve as the voice of reason who reminds you of the time that you got into a drunken argument with a homeless guy outside the Sears Tower (after leaving the Metropolitan Club) about his insistence that he needed $7, a figure you found to be too large, arbitrary and random and therefore worthy of argument.

I totally forgot the incident and thus have been giggling all day.

Hey, I told you guys I used to be an asshole. 

You Must Read This (Phoenix)

NOT MILKING IT

Usually when I put up blog posts, I save the big news for last.  Am kind of shameless in regards to the concept of Milking It.  (Sometimes I Milk It so much that readers lose interest and often miss big announcements like the sale of books and such.) 

Regardless, this is just too cool, so here goes:

I'm going to be on NPR today!  You can check it out here. 

The piece I'm doing is called You Must Read This and I talk about a book that had an impact on my life.  The audio portion will be available after 7:00 PM today OR you can just tune to your local NPR affiliate and hear me read it yourself at the tail end of All Things Considered.  (Around 5:55 PM EST, but will vary depending on your affiliate time zone.  Find your local station here.)

Being on NPR almost makes me feel like a legitimate writer, and not just someone who tells stories about getting high on Ambien and ordering Barbie heads on the internet.

Then I remember I likely won't get to hear the piece live because I'll be at my friend's dog's birthday party. 

So there's that.

UPDATE: The piece got bumped to this weekend because Tim Russert died. I loved Tim Russert and I just feel sick now.

* * *

HOT ENOUGH TO FRY AN EGG, HOT ENOUGH TO BAKE YOUR DOG'S BRAIN*

Phoenix fans, I'm coming to see you on Tuesday! 

Specifically, I'm going to be at:

Barnes & Noble, 21001 N. Tatum, Phoenix, AZ, 7:00 PM

Many of you have said no one comes to Phoenix in the summer. 

We're finding this to be true NOT because of the heat, but because of the airlines. 

I have to go to Denver later Tuesday night because of a morning TV appearance and the only available flight leaves at 9:49 PM.  This means I have to get out of there not one minute later than 8:15 PM. 

I wish I had more time to spend with you guys.  My publicist has been trying to find an alternative for days but there's simply nothing else. 

Here's how we're going to work around this - I'll get to the event around 6:00 PM to pre-sign books, take pictures, and generally hang out.  Normally the reading/Q&A session lasts about forty-five minutes, so I promise if you come, you'll get the whole "experience."  (Plus with the heat and the pressure of getting to the airport on time, I'll be extra-sweaty and stammer-y.  That's a bonus, yes?)  I'll also bring and sign book plates for you guys to stick in the copies you already own and brought to get signed, just in case I can't hit all of them.

Cool?

Cool.

* Do you guys remember that PSA from the 80's?  No?  Just me then.

* * *

TRAVELIN'

Finally, here's where I'll be for the next two weeks:

Weds., June 18 - Tune in to KWGN TV, the CW Morning News, some time around 7:45 AM, (I think?)   

Weds., June 18 - Tattered Cover, Highlands Ranch, CO, 7:30 PM.  (BTW, Denver - you won't be exempt from sweating and stammering because I've got to get out of there by 9:30 because I have to get up at 3:30 AM the next morning as my publicist is clearly in league with the devil.)

Thurs., June 19 - KARE TV, Showcase Minnesota, on (I think) right before 11:00 AM?

(I normally don't post radio/TV stuff because I'm pretty sure I make an ass out of myself in each instance, but since these impact the amount of time I can spend at events, I kind of have to mention them.)

Thurs., June 19 - Borders Books & Music, Rosedale Center, Roseville, MN, 7:00 PM.

Weds., June 25 - Borders Books & Music, 511 Boylston Street, Boston, MA, 6:00 PM.  (This will be extra-fun since I'll have lots of family there.  Please note again it's at 6:00 PM.  And maybe remind me, too, because my events are usually later.)

Thurs., June 26 - Panic because I have so damn much new book to finish writing before September 1.

You know what?  I might just start panicking now.

A Repeat Twice, Plus One

You know what they call the guy who graduates last in his class at medical school?

DOCTOR

And on that note, guess who just found out she came in at number twenty on the New York Times Best Selling list, 6/22/08 edition?

That's right... it's Dr. Lancaster.

"Jen Lancaster Would Make A Shitty Diet Coach"

This?

KICKS SO MUCH ASS.

I'm Digging It

Busy writing day today, but quickly I wanted to share a list of things I am digging.

First, Paul W. in Australia created this cover for men who want to read my book on the bus without underpants.  (Without the underpants on the cover, I mean.  Not personally sans pants.)

(click to embiggen)

Seriously, is this not THE AWESOME?

* * *

I am currently also digging:

Jess Riley's Driving Sideways.  I read it last fall in order to give a cover quote, but I'm re-reading it now and still can't get over how good it is.

* * *

And speaking of sparkly sandals, these jelly shoes (I know!) have captured my heart.

(They're way more shiny in real life.)

* * *

I'm always excited when a grocery store-type brand comes out with something salon-quality.

My current manicure (in Orange You Cute?) went on more smoothly and has outlasted anything I've used previously by Essie and OPI.

* * *

Sloane Crosley, author of I Was Told There'd Be Cake.

Yes, I've already explained how much I liked her book.  But I didn't know how charming she was until I watched her listen politely when my husband trapped her for twenty minutes, sharing his suspicions of a pending zombie war.  The best part?  When he asked if she were a member of the NRA, she sweetly replied, "Oh, no.  We're Jews." 

* * *

What I'm not digging:

Having fans drive in from all over the Midwest and then not be able to get into our session due to space constraints.  (You guys who couldn't get in - I'm so sorry!  We were led to believe there was a contingency plan in place.)

* * *

The Biblical weather causing me to go 0/15 in terms of my hair looking good at events.

* * *

Deadlines, I'm really not digging them.  But I've got to honor them.

* * *

So, what are you digging?

Great Job Again, Chicago PD!

Time we called 911 to report an act of prostitution happening in the backyard next door: 12:10 AM

Time the customer, um, finished his transaction and drove away: 12:21 AM

Time the police actually showed up: NEVER O'CLOCK

Time I visit my Alderman's office tomorrow morning, demanding some goddamned answers on why the police refuse to respond in this neighborhood: The second they open

First Ward, YOU SUCK.

Go ahead and grab yourself an iced tea, Alderman Manny Flores, because we're going to have ourselves a nice long chat.

We're Totally Famous

Famous for having naughty dogs, that is.

Outsource THIS

PART ONE

Brrrring!  Brrrring!

"Good morning!"

(What?  I can be pleasant in the AM, particularly now since I've got a French press coffee maker, a burr grinder, and Peet's finest.)

-

"No, he's not.  May I take a message?"

-

"I'm sorry he won't be home until tonight.  He's at work."

-

"Specifically?  Specifically after work, my guess is after 6:00 PM.  May I ask who's calling?"

-

"Well, I'm married to him so it absolutely is my business."

-

"OK, don't tell me."

-

"Listen, any 'serious legal matter' he's involved is probably something I should know about."

(Here's the thing; I am unfailingly polite.  That is, until you begin to waste my time.  Then all bets are off.)

-

"Suit yourself, Matlock.  You can discuss your 'serious legal matter' with him when he gets home after 6:00."

-

"Uh huh.  And my point is he won't be home until after 6:00 PM, so if you keep calling him before that, you will succeed only in pissing me off."

-

"Excuse me, but how is telling you that I will be angry because you're blatantly disregarding what I'm telling you a threat?"

-

"Yeah, then apparently your call center dwells in the land where logic does not live."

-

"Nope, also not a threat."

-

"You know what?  My coffee's getting cold and I have a book to write.  Bye!"

PART TWO

I use Google to look up the caller's phone number.  My search reveals it's a credit card company's collections arm. 

What? 

Collections?  We're (finally) well past the collection stage.  And I just paid all the bills on Saturday.  What on earth could this be about?  This will require some research.  Unfortunately, I can't do it until later because I've got a training session.

PART THREE

Brrrring!  Brrrring!

"Good morning!"

-

"No, he's not.  May I take a message?"

-

"I'm sorry he won't be home until tonight.  He's at work."

-

"No, don't call back.  I'm authorized to speak for my husband and I can help you."

-

"Yes, I absolutely can authorize myself."

-

"According to God and the State of Nevada Gaming Commission."

-

"You know what?  I'm not having a transcontinental argument about marriage vows.  We're going to resolve this right you.  You called ten times yesterday while I was out running errands.  I finally did some research and I found out that you're calling about a credit card bill for THIRTEEN DOLLARS.  That was due on MAY 30.  Which is not even a week past its due date."

-

"Wrong, thirteen dollars is NOT a serious legal matter.  It's THIRTEEN DOLLARS.  Plus, I sent out bills on Saturday, so you'll receive full payment of the THIRTEEN DOLLARS, most likely today."

-

"No, 'Bob,' I do not want to pay the thirteen dollars over the phone for a number of reasons.  First, I don't give out secure banking information to international strangers, second, I'm not paying by phone if it's going to incur a seven dollar convenience fee, and finally, the bill has already been paid."

-

"'Bob,' you are working my last nerve."

-

"Well, I'm certainly sorry you feel that way.  But I'm willing to roll the dice and bet that the American legal system has more pressing matters than a four-day-overdue debt of thirteen dollars.  Gotta go, 'Bob.'"

-

"Oh, really?  Well, here's the thing.  I'm going to be home all day.  I'm trying to write and a ringing phone doesn't aid the creative process.  So, when you call back like you've promised, I'm going to answer the phone.  And I promise you I'm going to find the most pornographic thing I can on the internet and I'm going to read it to you.  Sure, it will make me uncomfortable, but I know it will make you even more so because you're not allowed to hang up.  And I'm going to skew your call statistics, too, which is likely even more offensive to you.  And then when my husband gets home, you're going to get a crash course in Army-grade yelling.  Talk to you soon!"

-

He never called back. 

And I am deeply disappointed.

Pimp Up, Bitches

For months I've been struggling with a central theme to wrap around the fourth book.  I've known the stories I've wanted to tell, but I've had such a hard time coming up with proper context.  Whereas I should be well into the manuscript at this point, I've pissed away a lot of precious time second-guessing myself rather than putting words on a page.

Plus, because Such A Pretty Fat has already enjoyed more success than I'd ever even hoped for (ZOMG, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!) the bar has been raised and I've been putting a ton of pressure on myself, meaning, um... I've been freaking the fuck out.

Fortunately, my editor helped me have my "A-ha!" moment today (THANK GOD) and I finally have the right context.  Suddenly everything for Pretty In Plaid has gelled and now all I want to do is work.  So, posting's going to be pretty light around here, and thus I propose that you all entertain each other.  Use the comments section to tell readers about your blog.  If you don't have one, then suggest a favorite.

Now go pimp yourself.

P.S.  Don't forget about Printer's Row here in Chicago!  On Saturday, Stacey Ballis is moderating a panel between Stephanie Klein (author of Moose, which is fabulous) and me and our topic is, "Through Thick and Thin."  The panel takes place at 1:30 and is located in University Center Park/Fountain Room at 525 South State Street.  See you there! 

Do Sour Grapes Make Good Whine?

For the third year running, a certain chick-blog organization has ABSOLUTELY no interest in my participation.  From the schedule of events:

What We Do: Blog to Book Redux  This session rocked the house last year, so we're bringing in more bloggers, publishers and agents to dish about your opportunities to turn your blogging talent into a book publishing dream come true. Ellen Gerstein from Wiley & Sons has published many a blogger's book. Jennette Fulda and Rita Arens represent two different blog to book approaches, one a memoir and the other a blogging anthology. Walk away with some insider info and effective tactics you can employ to get yourself on the published author path.

Was I even invited?   

 

No, don't be silly.   

 

After all, what do I know about turning blogs into (New York Times and USA Today and Boston Globe and Follet's college list and Atlanta Journal-Constitution and something-in-Dallas-but-I'm-too-lazy-to-look-up-the-specifics bestselling) books?   

Seriously.

On Report

Fletch and I have been catching up on our TiVo cache this week so last night we watched an episode of Last Comic Standing.  Even though our beloved Jay Mohr no longer hosts, we still dig the show because it's one of the few programs we can agree on - Fletch isn't subjected to a lot of amateur singing and youthful delusion, and I don't have to see in-depth analysis of the merits of the Panzer tank vs. the Sherman tank. 

Anyway, mid-way through the show, a comic did a bit about having previously been a teacher's aid.  He talked about the effort it took to find something positive to say about children who were positively horrible, e.g. telling parents their kids had "a lot of energy," which really meant, "Put Junior on Ritalin, stat!"  The bit was funny and we laughed in all the right places, particularly since we find other people's poor parenting a great source of amusement.  (FYI, this is also why we keep shopping at our local Target.)  (I've mentioned we're jerks, yes?) 

We quietly high-fived ourselves on not being responsible for having brought any demon spawn into this world.  I sat there ensconced in my smug sense of superiority until I remembered something.  Specifically, I recalled how a look of relief washed over the vet tech's face when we announced we were there to claim Maisy and Loki on Saturday after returning from a night in Indianapolis.  Now that I think of it, the tech wasn't smiling so much as she was gritting her teeth as she practically water-skied behind the tugging, leashed dogs. 

When I asked the tech how the dogs had behaved, she hesitated before she said, "They... they felt right at home." 

It just now occurs to me when the dogs are home, they ignore any attempts at discipline, they jump on our guests, they sleep on all the beds and couches, they steal the cats' food, and they pee on the rug in the front hallway.

Oh. 

Oh noes!

I then rooted around in my purse to find the paperwork the tech handed me as we were leaving.  They'd prepared a report card of our pets' behavior.  At the time, I was proud of the dogs for sailing through their stay, receiving high praise.  But upon re-reading, I see that the kennel employs the same practices as the hopeful comedian's old school district.

"Maisy and Loki LOVE to play.  They are very excitable and very active."

(You need doggie Ritalin.  Or possibly an exorcism.)

"Both dogs are always on the move.  Maisy loves the ball and Loki loves chasing Maisy around."

(Seriously, they wore our asses out.  WTF is wrong with them?  Do you feed them coffee or something?)

"They did not engage in group playtime with any other dogs."

(Your dogs share exactly the same kind of sociopathic behavior you and your husband exhibit and we kept them far the fuck away from normal people's pets.)

"They both ate well while they were here."

(Your dogs are little piggies.)

"There were no problems with elimination."

(Maisy peed on our rug.  And in our lobby.  And on our porch.  But not outside.)

So in case you were wondering?