Author: Becky

A good moment

Last night, and by last night, I mean 4 a.m., I experienced something that used to happen frequently when Tim and I wrote together in the wee hours. I wrote a line that made me laugh out loud. That’s iffy, because I could have been sleep deprived, plus I tend to be wary when I make myself laugh. When it happened with Tim, I was usually laughing at his lines, or was willing to leave in something I wrote if it made him laugh out loud.

But I tried it out on my mother and Tom tonight, and they both laughed. So it’s staying in.

ETA in 2022: I can still remember what the line was. I think this must have been a really fun moment for me to make them laugh.

Guilty Pleasure?

I know at least two people who have called “Project Runway” their guilty pleasure. I love this show, and I refuse to feel guilty. Even though I’m hardly a fashion maven and don’t know much about design, here is why the show appeals to me.

I believe that designers are artists, and how often will I get to see an artist at work, using his or her creativity and skill to meet a challenge under ridiculous deadlines with limited resources? And not only that, but see how that artist competes with other artists to come up with the most innovative result?

I can’t imagine this challenge to a dozen writers: Here are 100 words. Use them to write a poem in two hours that is uniquely yours. Not only will you be judged by three critically acclaimed poets, but your poem will be compared to the poems of the other eleven writers. And you have to write your poem in the same room as the other eleven, and they’ll be able to look over your shoulder at what you’re writing BEFORE you get a chance to polish, edit, or finish it. Finally, it will all be broadcast so that the world can witness your meltdown. Oh, and someone else will be reading your poem out loud, so if your reader does a lousy job, it can affect the outcome. Good luck!

I think I would be eliminated very quickly.

It’s 71 degrees here, but…

We’ve been having thunderstorms for hours (no tornadoes that I know of, though). Margot hates thunder, so she crawled back into the bed this morning while I was making it. Thunder just makes Guinness want to eat, but if Guinness is breathing, she wants to eat.

I have all these packages to mail. I took a shower, dressed, etc., made my grocery list, posted on LJ, while waiting for the rain to slack off. When it did, as quietly as possible, I slipped into Tim’s apartment (I think the rain is extending his and River’s ability to sleep in, which is good, because he was up late writing) and got my luggage caddy and one of Tom’s gifts that I need to exchange (and now I’ll have to do that and wrap it before he reads my LJ, or he’ll know where his presents are stashed).

After I loaded up the packages and was trying to maneuver out the door with them, it began pouring again. I’m not dealing with the post office and grocery store in this mess. See? Even without snow and ice, Houston’s winter weather has its challenges. (I suspect I will get NO sympathy on this one.)

More decorations

These photos aren’t really large enough to give the best visual, and I colored out the rooms behind the doorways so there’d be less distractions. Every year, our friend Lynne gives Hallmark ornaments to Tom and me. The 18 ornaments on his garland are Star Trek. When I plug in the strand of lights they’re connected to, various characters (Janeway, Spock, Kirk) all speak at once. Some of the ships also do various flashing things. My 22 ornaments are Barbie. They just hang out and look pretty, like Barbie is supposed to.

Blitzed

You Are Blitzen

Always in good spirits, you’re the reindeer who loves to party down with Santa.

Why You’re Naughty: You’re always blitzed on Christmas Eve, while flying!

Why You’re Nice: You mix up a mean eggnog martini.

Courtesy of redleatherbound.