Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Trolling For Self-Centered Thoughts

Apologies again for missing last Tuesday. I had plenty of topics, just no time!

Before I get started, as I write this, my profile photo is MISSING. I'm too burnt to figure out why. Hopefully this is just a Blogger glitch.

So, where was I? I mean really. Where was I last Tuesday?

First I got waylaid by the inauguration festivities. But that's understandable, right? So historical. So exciting. And yes, I shed more than a few tears. My name is Beth and I'm a sap!

Then I received an email from my editor saying she needed detailed info for a marketing meeting about the book I'm almost done writing. Pronto. I'm a slug bug when it comes to these forms and thus this became a four hour project.

Then there was the 'where's my career going' phone call with my agent. Another hour or more. But very inspiring.

Before I knew it, Tuesday had come and gone.

Followed, uber busy days at the library and nights devoted to deadline writing.

Before I knew it, a week had passed.

So here I am. Another Topical Tuesday and I PROMISED myself I'd blog a thought-provoking post. Only my brain is clogged with self-centered thoughts. Like . . . why do I look older in pictures than in person? And . . . Please, God, I hope I sound half way intelligent when that newspaper interview is released. And . . . The reviews for Evie Ever After sould start rolling in any day now--let the nail biting commence! And . . . Did my butt look big in the pants I wore today?

Ah, yes. The frantic musings of an insecure artist (and woman).

Won't you make me feel better and play along? My blog space is your vent place. Share a self-centered thought and make this woman smile.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Oops! However...


Apologies, readers. I missed Topical Tuesday. Not did I cover with a Wacky Wednesday, Thoughtful Thursday or so forth. It's been one of those weeks. I did, however, write my Sunday post for Babes in Bookland. Want to know something about me that I hate? Click here.

Meanwhile, I'll meet you back here on Tuesday with some nifty updates. I hope. Oh, hey. Did you see I added a widget in the left sidebar that offers a daily writing tip. I love that thing!

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Who Elected You Fashion Expert?

Seriously. I want to know. What qualifies someone to be an expert on fashion? I'm referring specifically to the people who make up these Best Dressed/Worst Dressed lists. Take the Golden Globes for instance. I didn't watch the award show because I was working full-steam on my deadline book. But, as someone who's always enjoyed seeing stars all glammed up, I, of course, looked at the red carpet pictures the day after on-line.

Why is this on the Best Dressed list?


















And this on the Worst?


















Is it me? Well, yeah. It is me. My taste. I don't dislike Heidi Klum's dress. It's quirky. I happen to like quirky. But I also like sophisticated and I think Mary Louise-Parker's indigo evening gown hits the mark. I'm truly stunned someone pegged her as 'Worst Dressed.'
For what it's worth, if I were a celebrity on style watch, I'd be in deep doo, because I loved Marisa Tormei's retro gown--also dubbed 'worst'.
Ah, well. Just a reminder that in all things (including movies, movies, and books) taste is subjective.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Grocery Woes


I don’t shop at my local grocery store all that much. Mostly because I don’t cook much. Who has the time? (Plus I’m not very good at it.) But when I do visit, I always end up calling my husband for help. Like the time I couldn’t tell the turkey from the chicken. It’s always something.

Sunday, I made it through my whole shopping excursion without calling him. No, wait. I called to ask if he’d rather have berry and granola low-fat ice cream or cookies and cream fat-free. (I ended up getting both.) But aside from that, I did okay.

Until I was in the check-out line.

I had all of the food out of the cart and on the conveyor belt thingee. The cashier was taking money of the person ahead of me. I remembered I’m supposed to use my super saver Acme card and reached in my purse for my wallet.

Only it wasn’t there!

I instantly pictured it on my desk in my writing room. I had taken it up so that I could renew some writing organization dues on line.

Crap.

I loaded all of the food back into the cart while juggling my cell to call, Steve. “Um. I left my wallet upstairs. Could you bring it to me?”

The woman behind me (who had a full cart herself) kindly smiled and said, “I’ve done that before.”

Still, I was mortified.

She backed her loaded cart out so I could back out. I tried to park the cart where no one would take it and re-shelve my booty then ran outside and waited for my super-good-humored husband to drive over my wallet.

Seven or so minute later, I’m back in line. This time I’m behind a woman who’s tearing out individual coupons and questioning the cashier on each and every dang sale. Sigh.

Finally, it’s my turn. I race ahead to bag my own groceries, because, although I may not know how to food shop, I darn well know how to bag!
When I was a kid (7-9), my dad owned a small town mom and pop grocery. He worked the meat department and stocked shelves on top of ordering everything in. My mom was a cashier. And Dad taught me how to bag groceries. The right way! You know. Cans together. Dairy together. Toiletries together. Heavy stuff on the bottom. Lightweight stuff on top.

Most of the cashiers at my local store are in such a wiz bang hurry, they chuck whatever is next on the belt into the bag. It drives me nuts. Sunday I had most of my groceries bagged, but then the cashier started to help. I gaped as he crammed canned goods, chips, milk and other stuff in one bag with no thought to what would crush what.

Drives. Me. Nuts.

On a good note, that evening I made a new Weight Watchers dish—Red Peppers stuffed with Cannellini Beans—and it actually turned out great! Not a ‘woe’ but a ‘wow’.

What about you? Any food market horror stories to share?