Aug 3, 2010

Read all about it

I'm struggling to find a unifying theme for my post today, but I was itching to write something other than this terrible chick-lit that's trying to pass as my novel (can you believe it?) so instead you're going to get a random collection of "what I did over the past couple days."

Let's get started.

A few days ago:  The man I'm dating decides to bugger off on holiday with another chick that he just met.  Goes to show there is such a thing as love at first sight - it just happens to other people.  Never mind, I immediately turn to my INSEAD network (otherwise known as €50k to never have to spend another cent on hotel rooms) and plan a weekend in Brussels.  That's what I call bouncing back, baby.

Yesterday:  The clutz series continues.  After the infamous shattered leg debacle (coming soon as a Lifetime TV movie), I decide to top it, while painting my bedroom (granted, less sexy than mini running shorts, and therefore less likely to feature Natalie Portman playing yours truly).  Anyways, there I am, paintbrush in hand, clothed in a very, very large Mickey Mouse T-shirt (and no, I don't know how that ended up in my wardrobe), and splattered in grey paint.  I move towards the other side of the (very small) room and - BANG!  Walk my pretty little head straight into a floating bookshelf.  The wood digs into my scalp.  Blood gushes.  I start feeling woozy.  You get the picture.  Long story short, I now proudly sport a large gash in my scalp (thank god, hidden by my hair) and have a permanent headache.

There's an award for the most entertaining series of self-inflicted injuries, right?

Today:  That's it, I've had enough of being the loser that gets dumped and her head cleaved by shelving.  I'm taking back control of my life, dammit!  Step 1, go to the gym.  Decide on a whim to go to the spinning class.  For the first time.  Step 2.  Lose all sensation in legs and come this close to falling off the bicycle while instructor looks on, amused.  Step 3.  Cancel all upright activities and strenuous exercise such as walking for foreseeable future.

In other news:  The rewrite is still in progress.  As we speak, I now have a prologue and nine chapters "finished" - or in their second draft form, anyway.  Only 16 more to go before I let my friends loose on the novel to tear it apart like hyenas.  Now there's something to look forward to.

1 comment:

Karin (an alien parisienne) said...

1) That man is an idiot. In spite of his idiocy, I am glad that you have bounced and are bouncing on to Brussels! Have fun. Who needs him, anyways. Jerk.

2) OUCH on the head injury! You poor thing! Do you think you got a concussion? Take care, chica.

3) How about some nice, gentle walking from now on, lol.

4) Keep at it. No self-respecting author ever came out of the start with a sure winner that needed no editing. I know of some writers whose novels take at least six or seven revisions. You can do it.

Just watch out for silly excuses for men and floating bookshelves while you are at it! ;-)