What tricks do you have for dealing with Big Conference Crazies?

As an addendum to my packing post from yesterday, thought I'd throw this out: Can you share some of your tips for minimizing stress and making the most of your 3-4 day conference experience? I just added some thoughts in a comment (#10 or 11) to yesterday's post. I do better, for instance, if I plan exactly what to wear each day to the letter. Fewer on-site decisions is a big plus for me.

Got any more tips?

Look Out! Kathleen's Packing.

I haven't been to Romance Writers of America's national annual conference in four or five years, but I used to attend faithfully, was once quite active. But I'm going this year, even though Dallas isn't my favorite destination in July. Part of the ritual for me is packing exactly the number of outfits I need--no more, no less--replenishing the makeup kit, finding multi-purpose shoes, and making sure I don't forget the essential creature comforts, like the small Swedish whatever-that-dense-foam-is pillow.

Okay, start with the makeup. This zippered case is small, and it's like a book with see-through net zipper pouches for pages. I've had it forever, don't remember where I got it, but it's a gem. Went to Sephora last week wanting new eye stuff. It has to fit in one case. Don't want to open a bunch if pallets when I'm doing war paint. I use dark powder and a brush for eyeliner--hate fooling with a pencil so close to my eye--a highlight (pearl white this time) and 2 colors. So the silver square you see holds 4 round thingies, and they're seated with magnets. It was spendy, but I can easily change the thingies. Got that and asked for something to keep the lipstick from feathering. The recommendation? Reverse lip liner. That's a new one. It's very light in color. Tried it, and it seems to work. Mascara--Maybeline XX whatever with conditioning on one end. Cheap and good stuff. Models swear by Maybeline mascara. New brow pencil has a round brush on one end. I've recently realized that eyebrows need a bit of color. I've ignored them most of my life, poor things. (Mind you, the makeup regimen is not a daily thing for me. Far from it. Mama would be horrified, but the cleaning and moisturizing is generally all I do.)

On to the shoes. I live in Crocs in the summer, but I need something not rubber. I'll take 2 pairs of plain dress heels (medium high but spiky)--black and cream--but I need cute slides. What do you think of these? They have to be comfy and versatile. These are kind of copperish color, wedge heel. (Will have foot spa, fresh pedicure before I fly.) I've been breaking them in, and they seem to do the trick. I'll take one other pair--well-broken in--in case shoes turn cruel. Probably the Crocs. As for the outfits, suffice it to say that the one good thing about having the conference in July is that summer stuff is On Sale. And I love it that full skirts are in. I love to swish.

Finally, the away-from-my-nest necessities. Here are a few. I've come to use earplugs regularly, but started out as a hotel thing. (Then found that they helped block out snoring at home, but that's another story.) Sleep mask--you never know when you'll need a quick snooze. The "blister block" product is untried. Found it when I was looking for Band-aids. It's a paint-on thing that's supposed to prevent blisters from cruel shoes. Has anyone tried it? And, finally, the Desitin. No, I'm not wearing diapers again. Not yet. But having grandchildren around brought the Desitin back into the carry-on, and lo and behold, a dab of the stuff before you go to bed on what threatens to become a facial blemish by morning actually dries the thing out. It works better than toothpaste, which, according to some fashion mag encounter at the hair dresser long ago, is what models use. And Desitin is meant for baby bottoms, so it has to be gentle. (This was actually dh's discovery. Give credit where due.)

Now...What's in your travel kit?

Ta-tas in the summertime

Yep, she's writing about ta-tas again. I was wondering what to write today's blog about, and I looked down, and there they were. The girls have come out to play for the summer.

They're usually always snuggled in a sweater or buttoned up behind a cotton shirt. Winter forces them into hiding. But summer, ah...time to give the ta-tas a bit of sun. And man, do they need it. A healthy dose of vitamin D, on a daily basis is good for us (and our ta-tas). Some scientists even propose that vitamin D may help stave off breast cancer. Go get your bikinis!

The shirt styles this year are very cute. Baby dolls and carefree cottons with low necklines or that kind of square neck shirred around with elastic. I bought one the other day and put it on. Check the mirror. Whoa. Haven't seen the girls for a while. And they just looked so...good. A little bit of cleavage,not blatant. But it startled me because I don't usually flash any more than a few inches down from my neck. Other women do cleavage all the time. So I said, 'what the heck', I'm going to be Cleavage Girl this summer.

I've gotten a few stares from family members since my newly-claimed freedom. Yes, I have breasts. Surprise! Yep, they are voluptuous. And I can just hear their thoughts 'she put a tattoo there?' Ha! Don't get me wrong, I'm no Jessica Rabbit, but I do intend to give the ta-tas all the air they want this summer.

Now, I found some interesting facts about breasts, in the interest of not making this entirely about moi. :-)

--The late French porn star Lolo Ferrari is credited as having the world's largest breast implants. During her lifetime, she had 22 surgeries to make her breasts 73 inches round! [Do you think she could actually stand upright without help?]

--A study supposedly published in the New England Journal of Medicine said that staring at women's breasts for just 10 minutes a day can improve a man's health and add four to five years to his life. The German study was carried out by a certain Dr. Karyn Weatherby who said that ogling at busty beauties is equivalent to a 30-minute aerobics workout. She said this gets the heart pumping and improves blood circulation, cutting the risk of stroke and heart attack by half! [I'm not sure...should we tell our honeys about this one, or not?]

--The Milky Way Galaxy is so named because the ancient Greeks thought it was made from drops of milk from the breasts of the Greek goddess Hera.

--A survey made by bra maker Triumph found that British women have the biggest breasts in Europe. More than half the women in that country wear a size D cup or larger. Denmark scored second while Holland was third. On the other hand, Italian women had the smallest breasts where 68 percent had a size B, the same survey said. But don't lose hope. Researchers said breast size has been increasing in the Western world for the past 10 - 15 years.

--The earliest known breast implants were made from goat's milk or parafin wax and were injected directly into the chests of Japanese prostitutes during WWI.

Hey, we're girls! They're a part of our lives. They can frustrate and baffle us. They can be a point of pride or a nuisance. We may envy hers, bigger or smaller. We may sigh as they change. Some have an 'oops' while the world is watching. And many nestle against a soft baby's cheek.

So take care of those ta-tas. Do regular breast exams. If you're over 40 talk to your doctor about regular mammograms. And have fun! Tease a little cleavage into the sunshine. Shake 'em if you got 'em. Rejoice if a bra isn't necessary. Indulge in Victoria's Secret if a bra is a requirement.

So what about you? Cleavage or not? Are you comfortable with that? What about cleavage on other women? Where do you draw the line?


Bonus pic. When I was looking for pics of chesticals, I found this. Oh dear. I do love Mini Coopers. But what sane woman would allow her hubby to park this in the garage? Obviously, the owner is not married. Oy.

Cindy's thoughts on Summertime

It’s barely summer and already we’re baking here in the Midwest. But just the thought of (and I’m singing here) “Summertime, summertime, sum sum summertime, summerti iii immmme” conjures all sorts of wonderful childhood memories.

Remember hide and seek after dark? Chasing fireflies and catching them in a bottle? Or dismantling the poor bug and wearing the light as a ring on your finger? What about running through sprinklers and cherry popsicle juice running down your arm?

I think of family picnics and 4^th of July and the chlorine scent of the swimming pool. Coppertone tans and baking in the sun. Buck night at the drive in movie (man am I dating myself), and contracting to de-tassle corn or hoe corn out of the beans to earn money for school clothes.

Ah yes. Breath deep. Smell the nostalgia in the air. And a little wistful longing. I feel badly that our world has changed so much that our kids and grandkids miss some of these very basic pleasures. But, we try to make new memories in a world that’s not as safe as it once was.

We have a cabin in northern Minnesota and every year our kids make sure that they and their kids make it up for at least a week. It’s a tradition. And let me tell you, the lake comes alive with the sound of their laughter as they play in the sand or squeal over catching a fish, or stare with wide eyes when they spot a bear lumbering across the road. New memories. Wonderful memories.

What are some of your favorite childhood summertime memories? What memories are you trying to make for your kids? What summertime traditions do you treasure?

Strange Details and Opinions Cluttering Helen's Mind

Or should that be - Details and Opinions Cluttering Helen's Strange Mind?

In either case, here goes.

Heard it, read it, made it up. I wrote this over the span of several days, adding as things came to me. Some of it may have “come” to me after a glass or two of wine, so ... If nothing else, I made myself laugh.

The white dessert wine known as a sauterne is actually made from rotten grapes. The French call it “the noble rot” and is only made in the Sauternes region in France.

Anyone who has kids knows that it was someone without kids who decided stainless steel should be the new trend for kitchen appliances.

The woman about whom Eric Clapton wrote the song Layla was actually George Harrison’s wife. My niece dated “Layla’s” nephew for a time. He was pretty cute and amazingly nice.

If you cut the sucker branches off your tomato plants you’ll end up with many more tomatoes, but the plants end up looking stupid. Really stupid. And they’ll hate you for it.

Wear a watch if you want to tell time in Las Vegas. There are no clocks in the casinos.

Some cats drool. A lot. I’ve had plenty of wet T-shirts to prove it.

Butter knives were not meant to do double duty as screwdrivers, and I have the bent tips to prove it. Every woman should have her own tool kit stashed in a kitchen cabinet.

According to the Treaty of Madrid (1891) one can only label a sparkling wine “champagne” if it comes from Champagne, France. A sparkling wine from any other location is just a sparkling wine.

Frog or toad, doesn’t matter, can’t see how they can give you warts.

I’m finally too old for camping.

Dogs may be man’s best friend, but I’ll betcha dollars to donuts it’s a woman who feeds the poor critters.

If fifty’s the new forty, then what the hell is forty? Forty-five? Anyone? I have no idea how old I am.

I wish I knew then what I know now applies at any age. I don’t care if you’re twenty-nine or eighty-nine, there’s bound to be something you’ll figure out in a few years that you will some day wish you knew now. So … figure it out. Now. You know, instead of later.

Luxury is having the time, the clear conscience and the perfect 800 thread count sheets for a Sunday afternoon nap.

When I was a kid my parents used to take “naps” almost every Sunday afternoon. Back then I used to think they slept an awful lot. Now, I’m thinking I should be a little less worried about thread counts.

I’d take the sound of a mourning dove over an alarm clock to wake me up any day.

And last, but probably the most important piece on information you will pick up here today …

There are no oil glands in the skin on our neck. Keep slathering on that lotion, sweetie, no matter how old—or young—ya are.

It’s obvious I’m a sucker for useless information. Tell me … what do you know?

Debra - MONDAY MORNING REVIEW

KNOCKED UP

Katherine Hiegl, Seth Rogan

Directed by Judd Apatow (The 40 Year-Old Virgin)

Running time: just over 2 hours

First, if you've never seen The 40 Year-Old Virgin, rent it. And just so you'll know, the chest waxing scenes were filmed live.

Second, if you didn't like The 40 Year-Old Virgin, don't bother with this one. It's from the same stable and a few of the faces will be familiar.

Plot: Hot television chick, having just gotten her big on-air break, celebrates with too many drinks and ends up pregnant by pot-smoking slacker one-night-stand.

This is a comedy, not a romance. You'll get a little romance with the humor but Seth Rogan as hero Ben is far from the mark as hero material. The movie doesn't gradually remake him physically so that his sex appeal sneaks up on you. What you see in the beginning of the movie is pretty much what you get at the end of the movie, except that the character has grown up a bit and gotten a job. (Hey, don't be yelling at me. I don't think a hero has to be gorgeously handsome but this guy feels more like a character actor than a lead. He's got the comic chops but I just didn't buy him as a romantic lead.) While characters stumbling into love can be great fun, I didn't feel the chemistry between these two characters. Comic timing? Yes. Chemistry? Not so much.

Ben is sweet and good-hearted. One of his best scenes comes as he's trying to make all the right supportive statements over the phone but the audience can see that the sincerity his voice is offering isn't mirrored on his face. He had hero potential in that scene.

My husband was with me and he laughed heartily throughout, especially once we got past the character introduction scenes. The rest of the theater did too. Heck, I laughed. A lot. Sometimes for quite a long time.

But...

You knew a "but" was coming. I really wanted both the comedy and the romance to work. Too often they sacrificed the developing romance for comedy. And in the end I didn't believe real love, lasting love existed between these two.

As a comedy, the film worked. The comedy wasn't subtle but judging from the amount of laughter in the theater, people appreciated the broad strokes. There's also a cute cast and crew "baby" scrapbook during the credits. Paul Rudd in his scrubs holding his baby in the delivery room makes you go, "Aw..." And I will say that more than once during the movie I wished Paul Rudd was playing the lead instead of doing a fine job as the brother-in-law support role.

Am I unfairly judging this movie for failing to deliver a satisfying romance when it really is more comedy than romance? Am I just greedy to want both?

Today is Fairy Day! Be kind to fey folk (well, every day, really). Avoid fairy circles. Thank your house brownies for not nailing your furniture to the ceiling when you forget their kindnesses. And do give your own wings a stretch (they could use a good stretch every now and then).

What's In Your Closet?

What’s in my closet is…a mess.

So it’s that time of year when I clean it out, looking for the evening shoes I’ll need for the Romance Writers Conference next month, and in doing so I’m likely to find:

That pair of black wedge sandals I’d completely forgotten I bought at the end of last summer so I really have no need for the pair I bought at the beginning of this summer and have worn already…

The cute cropped jeans that I thought I left at the last hotel room I was in…I must not have packed them after all.

A shirt that belongs to Son 2. Surfer Guy (my husband) can’t seem to tell the difference between our clothes, which explains why the younger son keeps pulling pink athletic socks out of his drawer.

But I’m also likely to be faced with the big dilemma of what to save and what to give away. I have some really cute dresses that are no longer in style, but still really cute! Do I get rid of them?

How many pairs of athletic shoes do I need? I have the current pair, and then I need an older pair that I don’t mind gardening in or getting wet. And then maybe a third pair, in case the second pair…well, you see how my mind goes.

And when it comes to shoes, well, I have dozens and dozens and dozens. And dozens. But I really can’t give up the black sequined pumps, right? So what that I only wear them every three years or so. They’re classics. And that second pair (or is it the first?) of black wedge sandals. Do I get rid of one or keep both? (Because here’s the thing, one pair has a white sole, so they’re really not black black, right?)

Finally, um, here comes the really big decision. What about the +5 and the -5 clothes? You know, the ones that only fit when I’m 5 (okay, 7) pounds more than my usual weight and the ones that only fit when I’m at my ideal weight. Do I get rid of the “fat” clothes and pretend that some of the “skinny” clothes will become a regular staple of my wardrobe in the near future?

You’ll be glad to know that I cleaned out my sweater drawers this winter and also gave up some of my thousands of bathing suits. However, my closet is still a disaster. Please, help! What are you closet-cleaning tips?

Winners of Wednesday's contest

Sue A. and Tetewa are winners from yesterday's blog! Please email me your snailmail addresses at toastfaery@gmail.com, and I'll forward them to Susan Sizemore, so she can send you your prize.

Thanks!

Guest Blogger: Susan Sizemore

Welcome Susan Sizemore to the convertible today! This writing powerhouse has been scribbling tales all her life. Her first professional sale was in 1990. She's published 32 novels, quite a few short stories and novellas that have appeared in romance and fantasy anthologies.
[Update: I forgot to post earlier that Susan is giving away a copy of one of her Primes books and one from the Laws of the Blood. We'll draw two winners from the comments tomorrow morning and post the winners' names. So check back!]

We posed a few questions, and here are the results:

What genres do you write in?
SS: You name it, I’ve done it. I’ve written a bunch of time travel romances, eight historical romances, a couple of romantic suspense, a lot of vampire novels, one vampire series I write is romance, a second is urban fantasy. There’s two epic fantasies written in collaboration with Marguerite Krause. There’s a science fiction novel I wrote that I hope to someday turn into an entire series but I haven’t had time to do more in that universe. One media tie-in based on the tv series Forever Knight. I obviously don’t have the attention span to stick to any one genre. I read in many genres, therefore I write in many genres.

What genre is the LAWS OF THE BLOOD series?
SS: The Laws of the Blood fall under the sub-genre of urban fantasy – or you might want to call them dark fantasy, or modern fantasy. Definitely fantasy, not horror, even though vampires are the protagonists.

There are five books in LOTB, with a novella due out (when?).

SS:There will be a novella, called “Cave Canem” (although the editor likes the title “Must Love Hellhounds”) to be published in a future fantasy anthology, but so far I have no information about when it will be published, or what other authors have stories in the book.

Tell us about the vampire romance series?
SS: This romance series is called The Vampire Primes. The sixth book, PRIMAL DESIRES will be released in August. And there will be a Primes story in the MOON FEVER anthology out in September. I’m currently working on the seventh book in the series.

What are the differences between the two series?
SS: In each universe the vampire rules, history, culture and goals are very different. Magic plays an important role in the Laws universe. Science plays an important role in the Primes universe. The vampires in the Laws books are physically helpless during the day. The Primes use modern medicine to allow them to live in the daylight. The Laws vampires are created through magic, the Primes are born. The Laws vampires are immortal, the Primes are long-lived but die of old age after a few hundred years. The Laws vampires are compelled by a curse to create more vampires, Prime vampires cannot turn ordinary mortals into vampires. The Primes vampires are allergic to garlic, silver, hawthorn wood and other traditional vampire deterrents – however they can counteract these allergies with drugs. None of this garlic, silver, wood or crosses stuff bothers the Laws vampires. Both types of vampires are fast, strong and very psychic. Both types have romantic relationships with mortals. The Laws universe is ruled by a mysterious Council. The books’ protagonists are vampire cops, enforcers of the Laws of the Blood and they go around saving the world, protecting vampires from humans, and keeping the other vampires in line. The Primes vampires are ruled by matriarchs of their Clans and Families, and the patriarchs of the Tribes. The Clan Primes work to protect humans. The Families try to get by in the modern world undetected by humans. And the Tribes are the bad guys, inimical to humans and other vampires. The Laws books have more fantasy elements, the Primes books have more romantic elements, though I blend both genres in both series.

Are the worlds different?
SS: The Primes series feature handsome, sexy, alpha vampire males falling passionately in love with kick-ass mortal females. The romance and relationship between the Prime and the woman who is his bondmate are at the center of the story. The Laws of the Blood books all have romances, but each book is about resolving a crisis that threatens humans and vampires alike. They are both action adventure series, but the Laws are darker and grittier than the Primes books.

I keep copious notes on both universes, and I just know the differences when working in either universe.

Do you ever see the worlds overlapping and having the characters from either series meet?
SS: Oh no, never.

Why vampires? And what about vampires appeals to you?
SS:You know, I’ve always just had this thing for vampires. I read Dracula at thirteen, then Dark Shadows came along when I was in high school – the love of vampires caught me early. Notions of writing my own vampires started with the Dracula pastiches of Fred Saberhagen, then the idea of romantic vampires was put into my head by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro and Anne Rice. Then the notion of vampire as action hero was planted by P.N. Elrod and Tanya Huff, and Forever Knight. I’m obviously not the only one who loves to read and write about vampires – look at the wonderful wealth of vampire stories that are available in bookstores these days. I’m in heaven as a reader, and I get to be a part of it as a writer.

Thanks for crusing with us, Susan!

So, do you have any questions for Susan? What are your paranormal reading tastes? Vampires? Werewolves? Something completely different?

I'm getting sleepy. . . very, verry sleeeeeeepy. . .

I read a horrible thing the other day: we spend roughly 1/3 of our lives sleeping.

No animal in the forest could regularly go semi-unconscious for 8 hours and live to tell the tale. (Okay, there is the bear, which hibernates for a few cold months, but that's another case entirely.) But humans somehow evolved to need large blocks of mental rebooting time. Which could only have happened if our ancestors actually trusted each other enough to go unconscious in each other's presence. A happy thought.

All vertebrate animals sleep. [Insects(bees, beetles, grasshoppers, and ants), arachnids(spiders, ticks, and mites), and crustaceans(lobsters and crabs) don't sleep; they just sort of go quiet for periods of time.] From studying brainwaves, we've learned that reptiles don't dream, birds dream a little, and mammals ---that includes us-- all dream during sleep.

Different animals sleep in different ways. Some animals, like humans, prefer to sleep in one long session. Other animals (dogs, for example) like to sleep in many short bursts. Some sleep at night, while others sleep during the day. Cows can sleep while standing up, but they can only dream when lying down. And whales and dolphins are "conscious breathers" who have to keep breathing while they sleep. . . so only 1/2 of their brains sleep at a time.

We're born knowing how to sleep. . . but getting to sleep, that's a whole other story. From the time we're little we're trained to prepare for sleep with rituals that soothe, relax, and comfort us. We have snacks, take baths, put on special clothes (jammies), say prayers, and reach for a comforting object to hold (a blankie or a stuffed animal) while somebody we trust turns out the light. All of which puts us in a safe, drowsy frame of mind and reassures us that the world will still be there when we wake up.

Then we grow up and we go through periods of defiant sleeplessness (generally "pre-school" and "college") and then through a series of life changes that alter where and when and how we sleep (dating, courtship and early marriage). Then babies shred our old rituals of approaching sleep, and some of us never really get back to a comfortable routine again. Some of us, after some trial and error, find a satisfactory combination of conditions that allow us to get some quality shut-eye.

A number of people I know have been diagnosed with "sleep apnea"-- brief periods during sleep in which they stop breathing. These folks use breathing machines that become part of the pre-sleep ritual. Some people have to have a certain number or kind of pillows or a certain thread count in the sheets to be comfortable. Some have to have a snack before bed or a certain beverage. Some can't get to sleep unless they've had a nighttime shower or a soaking bath. Some insist there be a fan blowing air over them. Comedian WC Fields couldn't sleep unless it was raining, so his girlfriend arranged to have a garden hose turned on the roof over their bedroom each night.

People hug body pillows, wear sleep masks, say prayers or do meditation exercises. Some people sleep in the nude, others wear socks to bed. Some read or listen to soft music until falling asleep. Men often have the "check the door" syndrome. . . unable to go to sleep unless they've checked every lock and window in the house. Couples sometimes have intertwined nightly routines: one always get into bed first, the other always turns out the light; they rub each other's backs; they say prayers together; they kiss and say "I love you." Some sleep spooned or cuddled up, some hold hands or touch feet, while others can't be touching at all.

Personally, I can't stand to be too warm or weighed down by covers when I sleep. I'm extremely picky about nightclothes. . . have to have short, silky gowns with no sleeves, so they don't strangle me in the night as I move around-- which apparently I do a lot. I wear ear plugs most nights, have to brush and floss before bed, wash my face, and take a glass of water to the bedside table. I hate it when it's too light in the room-- quite a change from the childhood days when I wanted a night light.

So what are your sleep rituals? Found any products or gadgets that help you sleep? How have the changes in your life affected your sleeping? What kind of bed do you sleep on? Temperapedic, Select Comfort(sleep number bed), water bed, or innerspring mattress? King, Queen, or Full? Gown or pajamas or the sig.other's T-shirt? Cotton or synthetics?

**And by the way. . . the adorable infant sleeping above is my new granddaughter, Kate!**

YOU'RE A WINNER!

We just had an open house for my daughter’s graduation from high school. You know the drill. It’s the time where you buy Planters party mix by the truck load, coax your lilies into bloom and scrounge up every award your shining offspring has ever garnered.
We did all of the above, but when our little genius was done dragging out her ribbons and trophies and certificates and plaques she looked a little chagrined and asked if I thought it was overkill. I was appalled. Appalled I say! I assured her that this is the day…the ONE day in a person’s entire life when bragging is not only allowed, it’s EXPECTED. The more the merrier. The bigger the better. There’s no such thing as overkill. Even so, in the end she decided to only display her more substantial accomplishments. Still, there were dozens of trophies, scores of ribbons--debate, public speaking, equestrian events. You name it.
Which got me to thinking…you know what I need? More awards. Tangible evidence that I did something right.
In fact, a few years ago a friend sent me a ribbon that said, “You’re a winner.” That’s it. Not too explicit. An all-occasion kind of ribbon. I kept it taped to my computer for years in case I became amnesic during the night and went stumbling groggily into my office mumbling, “What am I? What… Oh yeah. I’m a winner.”
Maybe it’s my own insecurities that made me feel my kids needed every opportunity to excel, but as we get older those opportunities seem to kind of run dry. We work, do dishes (maybe) pay the mortgage (hopefully), and raise our children with nary a trophy to show for our Herculean efforts.
So here’s my thought: We should award the little things. Stock up on ribbons that say things like WAY TO BE AWAKE. Or WORLD’S BEST DONUT EATER. Or MOTHER OF THE MILLENNIUM. We could distribute them at will and make the world a happier place.
Whatcha think? If you were going to receive an award what would it be for?

Kathleen says, "Works For Me!"

I loved the blog about hair products a while back, and since it's summer and the straight hair challenge approaches its peak, I went looking for some of the stuff recommended right here by fellow riders. I did a search for one of the products--Nioxin?--something like that, and went straight to the nearest outlet, which happened to be a Great Clips. Met a helpful fellow who said that wasn't what I needed because my hair isn't thin or thinning, but fine and straight as it gets. He suggested a root lifter, which I'd never tried. Said his favorite was Matrix because his clients report good results and it has a nifty nozzle. Apply directly to the roots. (Hair On! Apply...) Then hit with the dryer. Man, does this stuff work! Style in these pix may not look like much, but it had more volume yesterday. This is after it's held through sleeping, combing, and summer heat for 2 days! Dallas weather, do your worst. I'm packin' root lifter.

So I decided to do my own little pitch today for a couple of other summer lifesavers. (Okay, LIFEsavers is poetic license.) Here's the best stuff I've found to keep Bambi and Thumper away from my hostas. Tree Guard. Accept no substitute. It's hot pepper (cayenne, I think) suspended in the stuff they use to make plants shine. It doesn't wash away, so you don't have to re-apply except for new growth. I couldn't find it in the stores this spring--they said it had gotten too spendy--so I had to try some stuff that's supposed to drive them away with smell. It drove DH away, but somebody was still eating the hostas. Got the bright idea to Google Tree Guard and ordered online. This size is $20, but well worth it. Don't leave it in the garage over the winter. It gets gooey.

I try to get after the dandelions and what I call "mean weeds"--those thorny things I've only run into in MN--early and without chemicals, but I don't enjoy doing it on hands and knees. I discovered the "Weed Hound" when I was in a checkout line at one of the garden stores. "Does this work?" I asked the 16-yr-old at the till, who shrugged. "Absolutely!" said not one but two gardeners in line behind me. We've been friends ever since, Weed Hound and me. Step on the pedal, lift, and pop the weed out by hitting the knob on the handle. You can tell how much fun I'm having. (And you can imagine the guff I'm getting from the photographer.)

What's your latest tried-and-true find?


One more recommendation while I'm at it. After you've finished the yard work and you've done your hair, you'll want to get yourself a glass of ice tea and enjoy a good love story. If you're alone, read Helen Brenna's brand new book, Dad For Life. If it's you and your fella, our house gives two thumbs up to new dvd "The Secret Life Of Words" with Tim Robbins. Good characters, good performances, good script. Two wounded people, unusual setting, intense and very touching. The title obviously intrigued me, and it fits, as the saying goes, on so many levels.

Has anyone else seen this one? Comments?

Crank 'Em and Ride

So I'm getting my iPod all geared up for a trip 'Up North' this weekend. (Up North is what we Twin Cities types call any drive to Northern Minnesota. I'm headed to Fosston.) Hey! I may even be riding with the top down!
I love that I can plug my iPod into a socket in the glove compartment and the tunes play over the radio. So while I'm sitting here going through my songs and deciding which are most important for a road trip, I thought I'd do a top ten list of fun road songs to crank up to the highest volume and sing along with (in no particular order). Of course, my tastes are limited, and sometimes strange, but maybe I can list something you haven't tried yet, and hope to spark your interest.

1) Are We The Waiting Green Day - An anthem for the younger generation that I still like to believe I'm a part of. :-)

2) If I Were You Hoobastank - A positive rant against all those who've dragged you down. Especially great for after you've just broken up with a boyfriend.

3) Typical Mute Math - Airy and easy to sing to. Where did I ever discover this band? They've got an awesome video at iTunes. They recorded the song backwards, and filmed the video backwards, and then replay it so the action is backwards, except the words are all from beginning to end. Get that? Neither did I, but it's fun to watch and sing!

4) Pump It Black Eyed Peas - Oh, I love me some Peas! This one opens with a riff from Pulp Fiction and really, you will probably be dancing as you're singing and driving.

5) Out Here All Night Damone A girl band that rocks hard. "Summer's coming too fast. Winter's been here too long." This is an awesome summer anthem.


6) 'Cuz I Can Pink - Pink is my new favorite chick singer. This one starts with the spoken "I drink more than you. I party harder than you. And my car's faster than yours, too." Love it. And it just gets better. Declare your sassy independence and sing this one at 11 re: Spinal Tap. Bonus Pink song: Stupid Girls

7) Icky Thump White Stripes - The beat to this one is sick. (That means it's good. I'm exercising my teenager speak there.) And there's some funky instrument that sounds like a keyboard but it might be an electric guitar. I'm lovin' it.

8) Your Mama Don't Dance Poison - Yep, an oldy but a goody. "Your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock n' roll." Again, is it possible to dance and drive at the same time?

9) New Girl Now Honeymoon Suite - An 80's classic. "I don't want you on the phone. Don't you play good girl with me. Why must I always say it again? I got a new girl now."

10) Do You Know? Enrique Iglesias - Here's a brand new one for you. Just released this past Tuesday. It's subtitled 'The Ping-Pong Song', which must allude to the wierd opening which sounds like a ping-pong match. Catchy. I love me some latin pop sang by a sexy man. Bonus sexy latin song: She Bangs Ricky Martin - Remember this hip shaker? Who doesn't love Ricky?

There you go. A few songs that turn my crank. I intend to have the tunes cranked when driving this weekend. I've already warned the hubby to bring along earplugs. :-)

So give me your top 3 recommendations for excellent singing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs driving songs. I still have time to add some tunes to my iPod.

M

Helen on ... What's in Your Purse?

The other day, I was out to lunch with a friend and clumsy me dropped her purse on the restaurant floor. My big ole bag tipped over and everything, and I do mean everything, spilled out and rolled this way and that. Lip balm, make-up, gum, chewed and discarded gum enclosed in old wrappers, an old Tylenol bottle, used and balled up tissue, the spare change I was too lazy to put in the zipper part of my wallet, pens, pencils, and an array of other stuff, and, oh yeah, tampons generally flew to the four corners of the deli.

We women carry our lives around in our purses. I was laid bare, naked for the whole world to see. Well, okay, the restaurant patrons anyway.

So after blushing ten, maybe even eleven, shades of red, and apologizing profusely, I picked up everything with help from my friend and the hostess and tossed it all back into my bag to deal with later. Although there was nothing on the floor of which to be particularly embarrassed, I couldn’t help but think about other days, days I’ve carried some relatively embarrassing things in my purse. Like ...

Birth control pills
Condoms
A beer (don’t ask)
Panty-liners
Cigarettes (when as far as the rest of the world was concerned I wasn’t a smoker)
Thong underwear

What?

It’s true. A thong. In my purse. Pretty sexy one too. Orange and pink lacy thing. Not mine.

I was dropping my daughter off at a girlfriend’s house and she came running back outside and handed me a pair of her thongs with the order, “Put this in your purse.” Believe it or not, they’d gotten stuck to the inside of this friend’s sweatshirt, which I’d laundered the week before.

Of all the crazy things. What if I’d dropped my purse that day? Or on the day I was carrying around two doggy biscuits? No, I do not have curious snacking habits. The nice teller at the bank drive-up window just happened to send out too many treats for my pooches, and I forgotten I’d stashed them away.

So what’s in your purse today? What does it say, or not say about you? What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever carried in your purse? What’s the funniest or most embarrassing thing you’ve ever seen in someone else’s purse?

It’s my contest day, celebrating the release of DAD FOR LIFE, my June Harlequin Superromance. One randomly selected commenter will receive a copy of my new book along with this pretty beaded book mark.

I'll announce the winner right here tomorrow!

And the winner is ... Bethre! Email me at helenbrenna@comcast.net with your address and I'll mail out your book and bookmark. Thanks everyone for tuning in!

Debra - MONDAY MORNING CONFESSION

I have become hopelessly addicted to Grey's Anatomy.

There.

I've said it.

It all began with an innocent viewing of an episode at my niece's apartment.

Then, I discovered that NetFlix had Seasons One and Two.

Oh, frabjous joy! I could gulp down episode after episode from the beginning.

Sure Patrick Dempsey is dreamy. McDreamy to be exact.

But I'd known he was starring in the show forever and I'd never made a point to actually catch the show. So, what did catch my attention and hold it?

Characters. I feel in love with the open joy of Izzy, Christina's blunt focus, Dr. Bailey's complex brand of tough love, and even "dark and twisty" Meredith managed to engage my interest.

Then last week, I was out of episodes. Season 3 had just wrapped. The DVD had no release date. All was dark and twisty in my house. Until...

Until I remembered that i-Tunes was just a click away. I bought a season pass to the show and began busily downloading episodes. I am now addicted to i-Tunes as well. It should be called ig-Tunes (instant gratification tunes).

I'm weak. I could have waited for the DVD set to finally be released. That would certainly have saved some bucks, but...life is short. Instant gratification always seems to win with me.

Are you weak? About what?

And if you want to know which female Grey's Anatomy character you are most like go to:

http://abc.go.com/primetime/greysanatomy/quiz/greysdiagnosis/index

I'm Christina. Like that's any surprise to anyone.

Help for Susie

This is one of the things I like about blogging. All of you helpful people out there on your computers.

So I'm going to use you.

We've got major travel scheduled for this next year. Cool places, like Asia and Africa.

But here's the deal: I HATE flying. Which means not only do I need help with things like getting through a flight, and managing jet leg on the other side, but the trip has to be great when I get there. So I need all your best travel tips. Things I should absolutely not forget to bring? And - this is major - what are the best walking shoes you've ever found?

Also, since I'm in a traveling mood . . . what's the favorite trip you've ever taken?

Susie

Predicting the Future. Or not.

I ran into an unusual author, not long ago-- at my kid's awards assembly. Okay, it was an award's "ceremony." And my kid is 28 and a Ph.D. candidate. But I digress. The speaker for this august occasion was a robotics whiz-kid who looked about 13 and had a newly minted Ph.D. and a shirt that had never once been tucked into his pants. He was the author. His second book-- which he so graciously autographed after I forked over $14.00-- is "Where's My Jet Pack?: A Guide to the Amazing Science Fiction Future that Never Arrived."

I didn't mind paying the freight. . . because I've been wondering for years what happened to MY jet pack. And that "kitchen of the future" that I was promised back in the late 50's and early 60's. And the robot maid everyone was going to have to do house work. And the car that drove itself so we could play a quick hand of Cannasta on the way to the mall. And the ray gun. And the Universal Translator. And the X-Ray glasses. I was shocked to learn that some of these things actually do exist. . . the machine that can see through clothes, for example. Yes, it's real. And in use. And I can't tell you where because then I'd have to kill you.

The young genius/author seemed inordinately preoccupied with the "unisex jumpsuits" that were frequently predicted to be the clothing of choice for the developed world by the year 2000. Personally, I'm relieved we were spared that one, and you should be grateful, too. I have seen myself in Spandex.

But as I listened, I began to think about how much the old future looks very much like the current past. In other words. . . most things haven't changed as much as we expected them to: dishwashers are still dishwashers, refrigerators and stoves are still quite recognizable, and vacuum cleaners are still "Hoover" shaped. We still have automobiles with rubber tires and owner-operated steering wheels. And after nearly 60 years. . . you still have to be 16 to get a learner's permit. We still "go to the store" for food and still prepare it ourselves. . . unless we're eating out. Then we pay some other human to do the work. Movies are still shown on big screens in darkened theaters, accompanied by popcorn. . . even though we can now also watch them on little two inch screens we carry in our pockets.

But some of the things we least expected to change have changed like crazy! My Little Kitty cell phones for 7 year olds. "Smart clothes." Banking and bill paying online. "Chipped" pets. Videos-gone viral. . . and seen all over the world. Instantaneous MPH calculations in our cars. Rear video cameras that come on when cars are put into reverse. Self-parking cars. Caller ID. Individual DNA analysis that can hand you your entire DNA make-up on a two CD set. (Yes, there is that pesky little million dollar fee) Miniature TV cameras you swallow so they can check out your GI tract. Satellites that can read your license plates from 60 miles straight up. Antibiotics you take in only three days. . .

All of which led me to speculate on what kinds of changes we might expect fifty and a hundred years from now. Here are a few of MY predictions. . . some of which I freely admit are pure wishful thinking:

*Cell phones will shrink to ear-canal size and be entirely voice activated. We will all look like Jack Bauer on a mission. And there will be no earthly place to hide from a phone call, not even from your mother-in-law.
*Text messaging and e-mail will merge entirely. . . fed to a heads-up display on the insides of cool glasses everyone will wear. (Nobody will wear glasses to correct vision. . . that will all be done by 15 minutes of surgery.) All computer and eyeglass controls will be voice activated, so those gigantic thumbs our teenagers are developing from text-messaging will begin to shrink again.
*People over 50 will take to wearing unisex mumu's. . . to camouflage the gi-normous butts they have developed from never having to walk-- not even around their own houses.
*People will make and star in their own movies, which will become hideous, faux-artsy versions of the old "slides from our vacation". You'll be trapped in then trendy"viewing rooms" with Bubba Nextdoor. . . who has no concept of how to do a proper green screen layover and who hires stand-ins for his own kids because they're still in orthodontic headgear!
*Mortgages become so expensive many people just skip houses and opt to live in well equipped minivans. Some children's will grow up in a Caravan or a Toyota. . . never having slept in anything but a reclining bucket seat.
*Plastic Surgery will be required for anyone declared a "Public Ugly." Repeat offenders will be sentenced to punitive cosmetic procedures and forced to spend years as Paris Hilton look-alikes.
*Fat will be the new slim! By which time, I will be. . . too damned old to care.

What about you? What are your predictions for the future world? What would you LIKE to see come to fruition in the world of tomorrow? What would you love to have now that you don't have?

Woohoooooo!!

Cindy Gerard's INTO THE DARK hit at #27 on the New York Times bestseller list!

Let's all give her a big cyber pinch! You are on a big time roll, baby!

Major congrats!

A drop of belladonna, and a touch of ooky.

I went to the eye doctor today. Wherein, I learned the Secrets Of the Universe (or at least, I got a Small Answer to a Very Big Question).
I don't think there's a writer alive who hasn't been asked The Question many times.

Where do you get your ideas?

Writers have been known to utterly freeze up at that question, wince, turn away, or even act deaf. Where do we get our ideas? Well, it's very difficult to explain. It kinda, well you see it— But then sometimes... And then other times. And then when I'm doing this, and that is just so, and the world is...

It is an ineffable thing.

We have been known to give such answers as "I get them from the girls in the basement", or "I watch a lot of television and/or read newspapers", and my favorite is "WalMart".

I got an idea at the eye doctor. I went in because I woke up this weekend with a red eye. Looked like blood all over the white part. Yeah, it's creepy and kooky, mysterious and spooky, and all together ooky, but it doesn't hurt. [Sidebar: What does ooky mean? No matter. I like the word. End of sidebar.] So I did the whole eye-check-up thing since it's been a while and I could use a new prescription for glasses. The nurse put the dreaded 'drops' in my eyes so my pupils would dilate, and set me out in the waiting room for fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes without the ability to read or do anything other than sit quietly and be with oneself, is An Eternity for a writer. We think about things. We get...Ideas.

By the time I returned to the doctor's chair, I had to ask. 'So this dilating stuff, is that the same as the belladonna I know the women used to put into their eyes in historical times?' It was supposed to make them more attractive to others. The doctor said 'Yep, same stuff, but in much weaker form.'

Cool. So we talked about an exhibit the doctor had seen at the Science Museum that showed two pictures of a woman's face, exactly the same, except in one, her pupils were dilated. When asked to choose which image was more attractive to them, 90% of the people chose the one with the dilated pupils. Again, cool.

'Interesting', I said to the doctor. And yet, at that moment, I couldn't see a thing. He was a blur to me. Albeit, a handsome blur, but if I had to pick him out of a crowd with dilated pupils, I don't think I could do it. And then the Idea hit. I blurted out to the doctor, "So if a woman wanted to attract the Handsome Count at the ball, she might put belladonna into her eyes, and head out to the dance floor. (Historical times, of course.) Except, now she's not seeing so well, and instead of the Handsome Count, she goes up to the Handsome Count's fraternal twin brother, who is not quite as handsome, and because he was born second is but a mere Vicomte. She dances with him. They steal a kiss in the dark. The woman is compromised. They must marry immediately. And now that the belladonna has worn off, she realizes her tragic mistake!"

The eye doctor may have merely blinked at that outburst from me. I'm not sure. He was still a blur at the time. "I'm a writer," I said. And he gave me an "Ah." Which explains a lot of strange occurances and possible insanity, I'm sure. Trust me, we writers get that sort of response a lot.

Anyway, after I got home, I couldn't do anything. The words on the computer screen were a blur, so writing was impossible. I was literally crippled! Okay, so I managed a load of laundry. But I drew the line at the dishwasher. I could cut myself on a steak knife with this blurred vision. We'd be talking major ooky then. So I sat down and was still and quiet and the Idea returned.

Pity the poor heroine matched up with the wrong twin brother all because of a drop of belladonna. But! Lo, the Handsome Count is an arrogant, vain man with bastards all over the county. While the Not Quite as Handsome But Still Worth a Second Look Vicomte is truly a kind soul at heart. He is honorable and has integrity and will make a fine home for the heroine, and they lived happily ever after! As well, the heroine wears a small vial of belladonna about her neck. One day her daughter will come home with plans to attract the Handsome Duke. And we all know what a little belladonna can do to change our perceptions.

So writers, where do you get your ideas? And readers, have you ever asked an author where they get their ideas? (I know I have.) What's the craziest response you've received?

And what about you? Ever have a moment of utter ooky-ness?

Michele

ps - my eye is fine. A bruise. Since there's no skin on the eye, the blood is visible and very bright. Still creepy. And ooky. But alas, every morning when I look in the mirror I see it. I have begun to delight in my ooky-ness! And anyone who stares, well then, I'll just call it the evil eye and be done with them!

Have an ooky day. :-)

School's Out For Summer!

Those words do not hold as much glee for this writer-mom as they did when I was a kid, but it did send me back to my childhood when I heard my sons crow them this week.

Summer for this California girl was pretty darn perfect. I grew up in northern California, so it wasn’t so beach-centric as my SoCal life is now. (In northern California the water is very cold, instead of just chilly like it is here in the summer.) But we belonged to a swim & tennis club and went to the pool daily. My hair had that greenish tinge every summer I can remember, even when I was in high school, because I taught swim lessons.

It was also a time for bicycle rides to the library. I had a big basket and my best friend and I would head off a couple of times a week for our fixes. Only books from the library have that wonderful, buttery quality to the pages. The soft edges were as comforting to me as the pillows on my bed where I spent hours and hours reading. When I was older, my best friend and I started walking “downtown” to the Woolworth’s where I spent my babysitting money on Harlequin romances and red licorice. To this day, I taste red licorice and think of summer and love.

When I was in high school, all the girls in town played in the summer softball league. All the girls, including girls like me who were no way considered jocks. But it was so much fun. The whole town turned out (and still does, according to my mom) on summer Sunday nights to watch the girls play. I started out in right field as a freshman, but I didn’t run like a girl, so I was okay in the hitting department. Then I got contact lenses and I finished my “career” playing a pretty mean third base. Gee, being able to see the ball helped.

Finally, when I think of summer I think of the Fourth of July. The next town over has a big parade and my uncle would park his truck along the route the night before. We’d then sit in comfort while the marching bands and the Shriner clowns went by. That night, we’d barbecue and eat watermelon and my dad and my uncle would supervise the lighting of the fireworks. The night would end, of course, with sparklers for all. I can still see my name in sizzling letters against the dark night.

How about you? Any immediate summer memories come to mind?

THE CHANGE

Have you ever noticed that men don’t change? Okay, yeah, that’s a broad generalization, but here’s the thing; my husband went to the optometrist a few days ago where the employees spent forever trying to convince him to change his frames. After a short lifetime he ended up with eyeglasses infinitesimally different than the ones he’s worn since the day I met him twenty-eight years ago. Which got me to thinking--why?

Why do women change their styles, their shoes, their hair, their thinking with astonishing regularity while men can plod along for years with little visible change? And here’s what I came up with--it’s biological. We can’t help it. It all starts with menstruation. The monthly flux sweeps us along on its usual crazy course, hitting the highs and the lows and the tears and the insanity with lunar regularity whether we want it to or not. And that affects everything. How we think, what we feel, how we react.

Guys, on the other hand, are…well guys are pretty much always on the ‘GO’ hormone aren’t they?

But for women there’s pregnancy, post parturition madness, nursing, weaning, and all the anxiety that goes along with seeing our kids leave home.

Okay, that’s the crux of this whole blog--kids leaving home. See, my daughter just graduated yesterday. My ONLY daughter. My last child. And I’m trying to figure out…where does a mother go from here? The rest of my life is looming, towering over me like a menopausal thundercloud. While my husband is just kind of skating merrily through it all. Because let’s face it, his life won’t change drastically with her exodus. He hasn’t centered his universe around her very existence. After she’s scooted off to college (leaving me awash in her wake) he’ll get up, go to work, carry on just like he has since the day he graduated from college.

I, on the other hand, feel like I have to reinvent myself completely…again. Figure out who I am. Find a purpose. Do you know what I mean?

So…ladies…tell me…what now? Do I just get a new hair style and soldier on or how exactly does one handle THIS change of life?