Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Um. What was I saying?

I don't know why I've waited so long to blog.  I had every intention of writing something every week at a minimum, but I got so busy with my life that I just didn't.  Sorry excuse I know. 

I have sold another Disney trip!  I've been writing everyday in my Happiness Journal!  And I've almost filled up the red leather bound Italian made journal I bought in 2003.  Three more entries and I can go buy a new one to start all over in.  I can't believe I kept up with that journal for 10 years and continued to write in it.  Problem is, that's not where all of the writing I've done is located so I'm not sure how to sort all of it out.  Perhaps I'll just hope to be moderately famous when I die so someone else can take on that task and make some money while they're at it.  My daughter recently told me in the shower that she wanted to be famous and wind up in a Social Studies book when she died.  Perhaps I can hope for a footnote, "oh and Sarah's mom wrote a lot of journal entries - read those here."

The New Kids on the Block are releasing a new album soon!  Yay!  They've already dropped 2 songs and scheduled the tour.  So of course I'm going 5* to the Atlanta show.  That gives me something to look forward to for sure, and perhaps motivation to drop 20 pounds?  I'm going to be in another photo with them and I want to look not-fat!  I might even wear make-up.  Hell, I spent a full 20 minutes tonight plucking my eyebrows.  I'm new at it.  And of course my genetic code gave me 487,000 eyebrow hairs.  Ugh.  So I'm kind of glad I resisted plucking for so long.  Imagine how much of my life would have been wasted on sitting on the toilet (lid down), holding a 10x mirror, and plucking away at my face?  By now, months!  Good thing I found other worthwhile tasks to do instead. 

I even bought a pair of bling-bling jeans to wear to the skating rink.  I'm trying to rebuild my image.  Living on the edge.  Not so bland and nerdy.  But somehow I find it hard to be sexy.  Just doesn't work for me.  No one ever said that a random quote from the news or research inserted into just about any type of conversation was sexy.  Did they?  Cause if they did I haven't read about that yet.

Ah well.  I bought a little book called 642 Things to Write About to inspire me to write more.  I still have this desire, almost now a guttural urge, to write and publish a book before I die.  It's almost like now my entire life might be deemed one giant failure if I don't do it simply because I've felt like I had to do it since the age of 13.  Was this some sort of soul agreement?  Am I supposed to impose some type of knowledge on the population or just tell my own story?  I have a hard time with fiction.  I like research, but not the amount I'd have to do for a book.  What in the heck am I supposed to write this book about?  If I could figure that out, I could write the thing pretty quickly.  Really, I know I could.

Perhaps once I figure out my life, I'll figure out my book.

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