I read a news article on Yahoo! today that revealed a startling fact: ice-cold watermelon is less nutritious than room-temperature watermelon.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Back in my day you ate watermelon ice cold because it was 95 in the shade and it was sweet and light and you could spit seeds at everyone. Nobody gave a rat's wazoo about nutritional value.

Ice Cold Watermelon: Wahoo! Summer! Swimming! Hot dogs and beach sand and baseball games! Fun, fun, fun!

Room Temperature Watermelon: Gosh, let's flip over to Discovery Health and watch open heart surgery. Boring. And icky besides.

Books in the Self-Help Section

I work in a library part time, and part of my responsibilities is the self-help section. I thought I'd share some of my favorite titles today.

ANGER BUSTING 101... okay, now you have to go to college to get angry.

HOW TO CHANGE ANYBODY... since the general consensus is, and has been for the last million years that people don't change, I wouldn't recommend this one.

INSTANT SELF-HYPNOSIS... is this a skill I really need? I'm in la-la land enough as it is!

WHAT FLAVOR IS YOUR PERSONALITY?... umm... butter pecan? How the f*** should I know??

I'M OKAY, YOU'RE A BRAT... the hands-down favorite of sibling rivals everywhere

AUTHENTIC HAPPINESS... funny, I always thought my happiness was authentic, until I saw that book. Maybe I've just been screwing it up all this time.

YESTERDAY, I CRIED... well, good for you! But do I need to read about it???

HOW DID I GET HERE?... hell, if you don't know, why would I buy your stupid book?

YOUR MIND KNOWS MORE THAN YOU DO... every time I try to think about the real meaning of this title I have a meltdown.

WHAT TO SAY WHEN YOU TALK TO YOUR SELF... you're kidding, right? I talk to myself all the frickin' time! I don't need instructions!

THE LAST SELF HELP BOOK YOU'LL EVER NEED... if this title were true, self-help publishing would be defunct.

HOW TO RUIN YOUR LIFE... no, I'm not kidding, it's actually out there.

HOW TO MAKE PEOPLE LIKE YOU... if I have to make someone like me, I'm not sure I really want them to.

HOW TO BE A PEOPLE MAGNET... I think I've seen a similar book in the physics section.

WHY DO I NEED YOU TO LOVE ME IN ORDER TO LIKE MYSELF?... seriously, if you're asking questions like this, you should put down the book and let the professionals take over.

THE BOOK OF NO... I should have written this; I excel at saying no.

NEVER BE LIED TO AGAIN... until the next time some lying liar lies to you.

WHY CAN'T YOU SHUT UP?... this is an actual title. And on that note, I think I'll shut up for now.

Fun with sailing, chapter 1

Sweetie and I decided to finally take the plunge and join our fellow sailing club members on a group sail this past weekend. It was our first group sail to a "mystery" location, which promised to be fun, and my first time anchoring out overnight (they call it 'on the hook').

Wouldn't you know the weather turned into one big crapfest? It was windy and chilly and raining on Saturday morning and though no one seemed real excited by sailing in lousy weather Sweetie and I decided to give it a go anyway. This was our first mistake. We also decided not to wait for the others. This was our second mistake.

We got out into the harbor and it was incredibly choppy. We motored until we were almost across the channel before raising the sails because of the wind direction and still, with the chop, the six foot rollers and the gusts, we had to tack at least 7-8 times just coming out of the bay! Normally we tack once or twice.

Should we have turned around here? Would any sane person press on? Seriously, most normal people would say, f*** that shit and turn around. But the way ahead actually looked better than going back through the channel, so we kept on tacking.

Well, I'll tell you what: bouncing up and down over six footers is no picnic in a 25 foot boat. The rollers push you up, your bow comes slamming down then the next roller is ready to crest over the bow and flood the cockpit. Oh, and did I mention those wind gusts that heeled the boat over with almost no warning? I was hanging on for my life to a self-tailing winch, hearing all my carefully stowed gear crashing from hell to breakfast below, getting sprayed in the face repeatedly and telling myself over and over 'You will NOT vomit.' 'You will NOT vomit'.

And my sweetie, bless his little hide, was ENJOYING HIMSELF. I could have killed him.

We finally made the closest port, which was not our destination by a damned site but we were tired of fighting the waves, about four hours and many, many more tacks later. We managed to trudge into town for a pitcher of Brandy Alexanders, but that was about all we could handle. We were both out cold by 10:30.

We motored home on Sunday, and found out that of all the boats scheduled to make the trip, only two had even left the harbor. The rest of them stayed behind, had a barbeque and mixed drinks. oy.

I made it over the 50,000 mark! Three cheers and a tiger for me! It feels like a huge hump to get over, and I'm more positive I'll keep going.

Of course, we are going sailing over the weekend, so that kind of puts a wrench in the works. Not that I can't bring a notebook with me, or my QuickPad, but time has a way of slipping away when you're on a boat. You get a face full of clear lake breeze and you just don't want to think about anything-- just sip your tall cool drink, sunbathe and try to look cool in that swim suit I mentioned earlier.

I used to look good in a swimsuit. I used to even look good in a bikini if you can believe that. Now I just want to look like a human being instead of a flabby egg stuffed into a lycra and spandex torture device. To that end I've started a home fitness routine. I am doing pilates 4-5 times a week and trying to walk or bike in the evenings. So far so good. Of course, I haven't noticed any change yet, but it's only been a week. Just wait; I'll look like Daisy Fuentes in no time flat.

I've noticed a funny little phenomenon about living in the suburbs. If one person goes out and starts messing in his yard, someone else does. And then someone else does. Pretty soon the whole street gets involved in something. Is this some kind of neighborly competition thing, like 'my yard's better than your yard'? Or is it a little more sinister, like 'gee, I'd better get out there before they call the yard police on me'? Or maybe we're all just drones, getting a pulse from the closest power line that says, 'go mow your lawn, go mow your lawn' until we go out there. Like that really bad sci-fi movie with Roddy Piper in it called "They Live" or something... where those special sunglasses show you the alien faces and the REAL messages behind all those billboards.

Well, I've written a lot of words, but I'm still shy of my 50,000 mark by about 40 words or so. Why is it that when you tell yourself you're going to make a certain goal, i.e. I want to push my total word count over 50k, that you get right to the brink of that goal and something steps in the way? Like totally running out of ideas. Or you have to go to work, or the phone rings and it turns into a major discussion. This seems to happen to me regularly with my writing. I'll be packing a full head of steam, fingers flying like crazy, then--'oh, crap! I'm gonna be late for work!'

Of course, then you must ask yourself, why is she sitting here blogging when she should be writing? hmm....

Frankly I'm not awake enough to string more than basic thoughts together right now. I need a little more coffee, a little stretching (maybe some Pilates) and then I'll be ready to crank some more out.

The writing jam was successful! I'm re-energized, re-interested, and back in the groove! Woo Hoo!

More later, want to get back to writing...

Today is my deadline to finish my novel.

While I'd like to be pulling out the confetti and the Cuervo, the reality is that it is so not happening.

I was on a roll there for a while. I was writing every day, spitting out new chapters and scenes... and I even entered my first three chapters into a contest.

But for some reason--well, likely lots of reasons--the bottom fell out of my motivation. My middle is sagging, my character's relationship is in trouble (not for them, for ME!) and I've had a few moments where I think I should just say f*** it and forget about writing altogether.

Oh, the joys of being creative and a Pisces at the same time. It's like being pulled in 16 different directions at the same time while listening to a litany of 'you're not that good, you'll never finish'.

I think it's a good story that wants to be told. I feel Pete and Meredith (my main characters) tapping me on the shoulder and saying 'come on, lady, finish us!' I feel a hundred other plots brewing that want to be told.

This morning I am meeting one of my writing friends for a challenge; our group calls it Book In A Week. Basically you set a week aside and do nothing but write in every spare moment. I'm sincerely hoping my juices get flowing again; I only need 30,000 words or so!

Schooner's Top Tens

Schooner is one of my three cats. He's a brown tabby with that perpetually pissed-off look on his face that hides what a romeo he is underneath.

Schooner is the king of attitude. He thinks nothing of stepping on your bladder at 5 a.m. to get you up just a little earlier. He greets the world with a 'go ahead, make my day' philosophy. He beats up dogs regularly. And he is very opinionated. Recently he gave my sweetie (chained to the oars of the business world) some sound advice. See below:

Schooner's Top Ten Rules of Business

10. I’VE DECIDED THAT TODAY I’M THE LION AND YOU’RE THE WATER BUFFALO. AND I’M GONNA TAKE YOUR FAT, SHAGGY BUTT DOWN BY FIVE O’CLOCK.

9. TRUST ME, IF I COULD CLONE MYSELF, I WOULD HAVE ALREADY. AND THE REAL ME WOULD BE ON VACATION.

8. AND YOUR STUPID, IRRELEVANT, WHINY-ASSED OPINION WOULD BE… ?

7. I ONLY ALLOT ONE EST HOUR PER DAY TO LISTEN TO BULLSHIT. IN CENTRAL TIME, THAT WOULD BE WHILE YOU’RE ASLEEP. TOO BAD.

6. HOW CAN YOU CALL DRAGGING ME AWAY FROM MY WORK TO SIT IN A TWO HOUR MEETING THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY WORK A PRODUCTIVE USE OF MY TIME?

5. KEEP POINTING THOSE FINGERS AT ME AND I’LL BITE THEM OFF.

4. DON’T TAKE THIS PERSONALLY, BUT I’LL BE SO HAPPY TO NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN.

3. WE DON’T NEED NO STINKIN’ VACATION ACCRUAL!

2. GOSH, I'M NOT BUSY AT ALL. I'VE ONLY GOT 900 EMPLOYEES' PAYROLL CARDS TO FIGURE OUT HERE. LET ME DROP EVERYTHING AND WORK ON YOUR PROBLEM.

1. MAYBE IT’S MY FAULT AND MAYBE IT ISN’T. WHO CARES? LET’S JUST GET THE JOB DONE SO I CAN GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND TAKE A NAP!

...more to follow...

You've heard that saying "the future is now", right? Well why can't the future be now in terms of exercise? I'm of a certain age where the bod doesn't look the same as it did when I was fresh out of college. This means I have to do something to try and keep myself flexible, somewhat toned, etc... so I don't scare young children when I put on a bathing suit. But there are so many other things I'd rather do than exercise. Like write. Or read. Or shop for a new pair of sandals. Or fix myself a nice Tangueray & Tonic. Or even have a few teeth extracted without novocaine at the dentist. Why is it that exercise hasn't caught up with the times? Why isn't there one of those super-cool exercise beds available, like George had on the Jetsons, where he would just lay down on it and the monitor would show him exercising while he wasn't doing a thing?? That's the kind of exercise routine I need!

Fun Sayings:

"Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart."

"When life hands you lemons, break out the tequila and salt."

"I'd have to use a backhoe to sink to your level."

Hmm... what to say, what to say...

Funny how when you're with friends or just talking to yourself in the car (before that idiot in front of you cuts across four lanes, causing a disruption in the thought processes due to swearing and gesturing) everything sounds good and comes easy, but when you sit down to write it all out and send it to anyone who's reading, your thoughts become as tangled and dense as a peat bog.

I should be better at this. I've been making up stuff most of my life. Stories, characters, jokes. I suppose this isn't the most inspiring post to begin my blogging career with, but I can only hope in time it will get better.

Likely this spot will contain my views--or rants--on just about every part of my life, but especially on my writing, my sweetie, my son and my pets.

Now I'm going to try posting this and see what happens.