Me at 32

So today is my birthday. I spent most of the day ferrying the kids around because they had their end-of-year musical and dinner this evening. The kids sang. I ate cake. Life is good.

What was I doing this time last year? Writing a book, saying goodbye to Madison, and generally getting ready for the beginning of our Kenosha phase. And two years ago, I was at my parents' house in Lakeville, while Keven had already transplanted to Virginia for his summer-long internship. I don't know what I was doing in 2005 because I hadn't started a blog yet, which means events have been lost to a faulty memory. Likely, I was doing something sell-our-Cincinnati-house related, raising two tiny babes, and losing my mind to soap operas and daytime talk.

More recaps as birthday celebrations ease into the weekend. And now a bit of music from U2, which is also one of their most amusing videos. Bono wrote the song for his wife when he forgot her birthday.

Baby's got blue skies up ahead,
But in this I'm a rain cloud.
You know she likes a dry kind of love.
Oh oh oh, the sweetest thing.
"Sweetest Thing" by U2

Cook Wins = Happy Me

The "American Idol" finale made me inordinately happy. Is it really true that I have 19 tracks on my iTunes from winner David Cook? Why, yes it is. Don't be hatin'. His performance of "The World I Know" by Collective Soul last night was understated and absolutely beautiful, and although I sat stock-still for his take on "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"--back off, buddy, that's U2!!--he did an amazing job. Gush much? Ah well. He's my flavor of the month.


But as for the finale show itself, I felt myself turning into an old lady. Oh, neat! It's Seal! And Donna Summers looks nice. Yay for SYTYCD guys spinning on their heads. Now Bryan Adams--that's nifty. And Cook playing with ZZ Top. (Yay for Cook dancing!) Aw, Brooke looks so happy singing with Graham Nash. Good for her. Wait, who are these kids? They seem awfully young. Jonas Brothers? Who? My, my, doesn't Carrie Underwood look like a hussy. Country? That's not country!

It's like I'm watching the damn Lawrence Welk show, placing value on one-off resurrections of long-gone pop stars and casting moral aspersions on the cultural value (or lack thereof) of current performers. I mean, "Sharp Dressed Man" was released the same year David Cook was born. It's an old song--but I loved seeing them play. And if "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" was a person, it could vote for Obama in November. A 14-yo watching this show was born the year I graduated, or roughly six years after Paula Abdul's debut. I mean, did I listen to songs from 1970--"Teach Your Children," for example--when I was 14? No! I listened to Paula Abdul, dammit.

This show + passage of time = my head hurting. Ow.

Did anyone notice when Ryan Seacrest jumped in during the Donna Summers montage to dance with the SYTYCD breakers? Then he jumped back into the shadows (about 4:08 in). And her soulless duet with Seal just proves that Syesha has no stage charisma. It's SEAL! But she exhibited very little showmanship and zero sex appeal. Carly and Michael Johns, however, did a great job together, and I'd let MJ sing "Father Figure" to me any day. I think they'd have had Castro singing his duet with Jeff Buckley, you know, had Buckley not been dead for going on @$&%#! 11 years.

But I'm not seriously old. Not yet. (That's tomorrow, as my birthday looms.) I mean, at least I knew OneRepublic--lovelovelove "Apologize," and I didn't hate Archie's try at it--and I laughed a little too cruelly at the irony of a dozen American Idol slaves singing George Michael's "Freedom." When you shake your ass, they notice fast. Some mistakes were built to last. Comedy!! GM himself looked like a Cuban money launderer from Godfather II. Funny how all the guest stars have upcoming tours. See, I'm not so far gone into Schmaltzland as to not notice the puppeteer.

Overall, a good season. I lost my interest there for a few weeks, when a David v. David finale was a foregone conclusion. I would've liked the potential for a spoiler. But the end made me smile. Seeing Simon beaming like a damn idiot when Cook won, hugging Paula as if he genuinely loved the result--that was sweet (about 3:05 in). He's a crusty bastard, and I like that Cook won him over.

Tomorrow! Birthday! Kids singing! And SYTYCD!!! Bring it, baby. I'm so excited. And maybe iTunes will have all of Cook's newest performances available to download. You know, to add to my collection. I need help.

Heaven knows I was just a young boy.
Didn't know what I wanted to be.
I was every little hungry schoolgirl's pride and joy,
And I guess it was enough for me.
"Freedom" by George Michael (as performed by GM & the Top 12)

Snort

The girls are watching Beauty and the Beast, the Disney version. Gaston, the egotistical chauvinist who unsuccessfully woos Belle, said, "It's not right for a woman to read."

Juliette: "What?? That's dumb."

Beauty and the Beast is the only Disney princess type film that makes reading and being clever a prominent virtue. We females in the Lofty house heartily approve.

Nightcap (2008)

By Kathleen O'Reilly

Sean O'Sullivan's claims that his family's landmark bar is the victim of City Hall shenanigans only means more work for Cleo Hollings, the mayor's number one mover and shaker. Since Sean's got her busy, she decides she'll keep Mr. Testosterone busy, too...but between the sheets.

Yet sleeping with the hunky O'Sullivan isn't that simple. Everyone said Sean would be inexhaustible--even unforgettable. Nobody warned her he was lovable, too. Now other clubs' drinks taste like dust. Nothing measures up to a nightcap--with a chaser of O'Sullivan stud!

Oh, my. Who writes this Harlequin Blaze back cover copy?

Although I didn't enjoy this third installment of O'Reilly's "Those Sexy O'Sullivans" trilogy as much as Sex, Straight Up, I thought Nightcap was the perfect read for me last week. Sick? Stressed? Feeling a little blue? Then you need Kathleen O'Reilly's cure, which involves humor and sex and people even more miserably stressed out than you are. They learn to have a good time and find out that everything will be all right. Why shouldn't the rest of us?

But whereas Sex, Straight Up featured reliable, adorable, completely normal Daniel and quiet, uncertain, completely normal Catherine, Nightcap paired Cleo and Sean.

Cleo is an unapologetically raging angerball of ambition, and both she and Sean share user qualities. They take pride in playing the system. They manipulate people to get what they want. And while O'Reilly portrayed this as necessity--and the fact they both do it so well as being admirable--I couldn't entirely get behind people who seemed so damn hard. Sean's relationship with his brothers and Cleo's devotion to her mother made them human, and their pairing made perfect sense, but I got the impression that being around them or living in their skins would take more energy than I can muster. They are positively frenetic. I think this demonstrates O'Reilly's skill, in that they're truly different characters from Daniel and Catherine.

But just as with the high mountain culture in Simple Jess, the differences were difficult to bridge. Nightcap successfully and convincingly portrays a lifestyle very different from my own, but because I couldn't relate as intimately with the hero and heroine's personalities, the love story didn't resonate as deeply for me. I found Cleo and Sean entertaining, but I didn't like them quite enough to root wholeheartedly for their happy ending.

Hello Spring! Hello Recovery!

I took the manuscript of What a Scoundrel Wants to FedEx yesterday, having completed my copy edits over the weekend. Although the task took no more than five minutes, I found it entirely satisfying. See, when you're trying to get published, you send off partials and manuscripts on a wing and a prayer, flinging little half-formed babies into the woods for the wolves. This, however, was an official professional necessity. The book has already sold. It's already been edited. Anyway, just a roundabout way of saying that my five minutes in FedEx made me feel very authorly.

I've been out of sorts since early March. Just about the time I finished up Scoundrel's Kiss, our schedules went a little haywire. Between visitors, illness, and various trips, I completely lost the feel for my daily routine. My writing progress has been halting, and the amorphous process of promoting the release of WaSW tends to devour time without quantifiable results. There's no completed page count at the end of a day spent on promotions, and neither is there one after a day like yesterday. The girls finally went back to school after a week-long illness, which meant I could get out of the house to do 7,675 postponed errands.

But a large portion of my discontent has been due to a lack of deliberate living, to borrow from Thoreau. Keven has been feeling it too, this idea that we've been doing the minimum to get by. I generally feel this way round about the time for new years' resolutions. Maybe the laziness of winter and the jumble of the holidays makes me want to impose structure and good intentions. Now it's the tumult of spring, and the knowledge that summer will be even crazier.

So we have plans to change the way we eat, and I've been aiming to reestablish control over my work habits. I know enough about myself to understand my weaknesses and capabilities. For example, I know better than to assume I can get up at 6 a.m. and go to the gym. Now it's a matter of rearranging my schedule so that my biggest weakness--my profound tendency toward procrastination--has less power to derail my plans.

The girls begin their summer camp schedule two weeks from today. That will be our first experience with having them at school in the mornings--a good moment of change to take advantage of.

Ignore me if none of this makes sense. Just thinking out loud.

But I am glad for "American Idol" wrapping up tomorrow. Coz then comes "So You Think You Can Dance"!!!

I need a job, boy, one more than I have
Last night I fell asleep looking through the wanted ads.
Woke up this morning on the pillow you left
Laughed a little crazy as I made up the bed
It's just another one of the things you left undone.
"The Things You Left Undone" by Matraca Berg

Copy Edit Heaven

I thought I would drive to Green Bay today and have lunch with Hilary, but sickness has derailed those plans. I'm at home with the girls, both of them crazy-mad with restless energy that is constantly thwarted by hacking coughs. An annoying combination for us all.

I received my copy edits for What a Scoundrel Wants yesterday and spent half the day avoiding the big, tattered, intimidating thing. But it's good. No big issues. Once I learned how to do the darn proofing marks, I moved right along. I might have to find replacement quotes for about nine of the ballads I used, seeing as they're still under copyright to the editors at the Robin Hood Project in Rochester. Hilary said it might not be a problem, but plenty more remain that are out of copyright. So I'll look for new ones after I've done the edits.

What's fun is revisiting this project almost a year after I finished the first draft. I remember late last May and the crazy flurry of activity as I tried to finish it. We were going to move in about two weeks, so Keven kept the girls--having already graduated--and I fled to the Madison central library branch. I worked eight hours a day for several days, blowing out my wrist in the process, but at least I finished. The very next day, we began packing for the move. Tight timing.

(Note to self: Do you remember how much you hated the first draft? Now it rocks. So shut it.)

My turnaround for the edits is ten days, so now I'm back to work. I think I'll watch Prince of Thieves tonight. Richard and Jenny are flying into the Chicago area this weekend and will spend Saturday night here. Good times.

Oh, and my baby brother turned thirty yesterday. Ha. Happy birthday, old man. You know what song he loved when he was a kid? This one:

We've been down that road before,
But that's over now.
"Heaven" by Bryan Adams

Just Breathe

All I want is to be able to breathe, but apparently that's asking too much from today. Understandable. I'll recap my trip to Minneapolis sometime tomorrow, barring snot-induced suffocation.

There's a light at each end of this tunnel. You shout,
Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out.
"Breathe (2AM)" by Anna Nalick

Tuesday Sickday

I really like Lynn Viehl's 10 Promises to her WIP. Writers need to be gentle with their babies.

We're still sick and probably staying home again today. They're getting bored and frustrated with not feeling up to par. I'm hoping to make some progress on... well, anything. Soon. But probably not today.

And then I found this photo from Shorpy, a collection of spinners at a factory in Virginia, circa 1911 (click for a bigger view). All of them claimed to be 14 years old, for legal reasons, but some of them look barely ten. The overseer called them a lot of bad boys. I see only barefooted, dirty, skinny, lonely kids. History's a bitch. But so damn interesting.

Looking for something we can rely on--
There's got to be something better out there.
Love and compassion, their day is coming.
All else are castles built in the air.
And I wonder, when we are ever gonna change?
Living under the fear, till nothing else remains.
"We Don't Need Another Hero" by Tina Turner

Back!

I'm kinda sick and so are the girls, so no updates today. We're lying on the couch coughing on each other. No good. Hey! "Doctor Who" was made of awesome! I'm loving this season, after its rough start with the manic nanny. And here's a silly quiz. Hmmm, apparently I'm heavily romantic and historic. No way!

Your Score: Antony & Cleopatra

22% Tragic
31% Comic
53% Romantic
46% Historic

You scored Antony and Cleopatra. Taking place some time after the murder of Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra tells the story of the geopolitical power struggle between Rome and Egypt following the rise of Octavian Caesar to the thrown. The play, however, is not just some stuffy history textbook, full of war and politics; it's also a romantic love story containing elements of passion, jealousy, romance, and revenge. Like Antony, you are probably an outgoing individual, willing to make a few sacrifices in order to do what you think is right. However, like Cleopatra, you may also be a little jealous and vein. Keep doing what you think is right, but make sure you make time for your significant other, otherwise you and/or your lover might end up on the business end of a poisonous asp. Ouch!

Link: The Which Shakespeare Play Are You? Test.

Not-So-Profound Thoughts

That's all very funny and appropriate seeing as how gasoline here is up to $3.89, and Jenn and I are driving to Minneapolis this weekend. Eep! Luckily we're using her husband's water-powered microcar, which I think can actually fly.

Ilsa had a weird 24-hour fever thing. She had to come home from school on Wednesday, which was seriously a mess because I was teaching about 20 minutes away and had the car. The school didn't have my new cell phone number, so they called Keven. Poor dude had to walk to pick her up, then wait around in a coffee shop nearby until I got back at 3pm. But then yesterday morning, she wakes up with her pajamas drenched with sweat--the fever broke. She's been fine ever since. Weird.

So she still stayed home yesterday. The pre-school is pretty adamant about their 24-hour fever free policy. We went to Petco and bought junk for the new kitties: industrial strength cat box, litter, new bowls, cat toys, and kitten food. We had some of this stuff on a smaller scale just for Hopi, but I don't want to be one of those families where folks come over, take one sniff and know our place is riddled with felines. It's just a matter of staying on top of it.

Marielle and Walter spent most of yesterday evening running rough'n'tumble around the living room. Hopi looked like he wanted to join in but thought it was beneath him. But he's not above eating the kitten food. Then the two babies piled onto the bed and slept with us, a ball of kitten fluff lodged between Keven and I. They're fine with being petted as long as it's on the bed--a safe haven--but not out in the living room. And being that it's daytime, now they're sleeping.

I'll be back on Monday. Have a good weekend! In honor of Minneapolis, I present a tune from His Purple Majesty:

There will be a new city with streets of gold--
The young so educated they never grow old.
And there will be no death, for with every breath,
The voice of many colors sings a song that's so bold.
"Seven" by Prince