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December 29, 2004
A Literary Chicks Moment of Silence
FROM THE LITERARY CHICKS
Dear friends,
Due to the terrible disaster in South Asia the literary chicks are maintaining a respectful silence until the New Year.
Our thoughts, love and sympathy are with all those who lost friends, family and loved ones, and who are now struggling to survive in the devastating aftermath.
Our dearest New Year's wish is that those millions of people affected by this tragedy will receive all of the aid they need to survive and to rebuild their lives.
Below this message is a list of all the main aid agencies involved in the relief program. Please take a moment to check them out and make a contribution. No matter how small your donation, it all helps.
In the meantime, hug your loved ones as hard as we are hugging ours!
Love,
Alesia, Lani and Michelle xxx
Donating in the USA
CNN: WORLD Aid groups accepting donations for victims
Donating in the UK
The Disasters Emergency Committee (DEC) is an umbrella group for all the charities raising money in the UK.
Posted by Michelle at 4:53 PM | Comments (3)
December 23, 2004
Vengeful 4 year olds and the Holliday spirit
Alesia, from Santa central...
OK, the holiday spirit of giving and generosity has hit its peak at the Holliday house (and don’t make any stupid jokes about Happy Hollidays – been there, done that. Although I heard about a poor woman named Merry Christmas on NPR this morning – how badly would THAT suck??)
My daughter has turned into the evil demon of Christmas. So she’s going to be 5 next month and was once a darling, angelic, adorable little girl.
For about five minutes. Then it all went bad.
[HEY – before I keep blathering, if you have kids, go to watch NORAD track Santa all day Christmas Eve at their site. It’s totally cool and a wonderful example of our tax dollars at work.]
So, back to Lauren. Her older brother is always making her angry or annoying her or doing something awful to her, like breathing in the same room. This causes fits, tantrums, name-calling, and now – the new development – revenge toy destruction.
Yep, the little bag of sweetness and light just demolished her brother’s headphones to his new spy gadget toy (present from Grandma; although just think about this: My son now has a tool that magnifies sound so he can hear whenever Navy Guy and I are whispering in any room of the house. Is the destruction of the headphones really a bad thing? If parents can’t keep secrets from their children, what kind of chaos and anarchy will ensue??)
We had a big talk about Mommy being disappointed, and respecting other people’s property, and the fact that Santa is watching us really closely. In fact, we sent a few ‘Keep an eye on this house, Santa’ type e-mails this week to the poor fat dude in the red suit; no wonder he’s stress-eating all those cookies. But, basically, the kids are both wound up out of their minds with the excitement of only two days till Christmas.
Of course, Navy Guy just hit me with the “I got you a really cool present, but it won’t get here till February.”
He’d better hide his headphones, is all I can say. Where do you think Lauren gets her vengeful nature from, anyway??
Hugs,
Alesia, wishing you all happy holidays – see you next year!!!
Posted by Alesia at 1:32 PM | Comments (1)
Crudely Yours, Lani
Lani, now with shiny new street cred...
Author's Note: Since I'll have company over the holiday, and Saturday is my posting day, I'm gonna post this now and take the slack over the next week. Then, in January, I'm back! This can be viewed as either a promise or a threat, depending on how you feel about me...
It's a Choppy Thought kind of day here. I'm doing laundry, preparing for company, thinking about showering, trying to keep Light out of trouble, and basically, my brain is going off in a million directions. Some are coherent thoughts, but most run along the lines of, "Mmmmm. Mallomars." So, let's get started, shall we?
Big news - I got my first totally scathing review at Amazon! (scroll down to the entry titled "Ugh!") It's kinda funny. I don't know why it doesn't bother me. It probably should. I think if I had a lot of scathing reviews, it would. But overall, I think it's kinda neat. I've been waiting, in dread, for the first person who hated Time Off to appear because I knew it would happen. It always happens. I mean, you can't please everyone - it's impossible. So this being the first bad review, it's more like I get to release that last breath. I feel oddly relieved.
Plus, now I've got the street cred I need to join a very cool group - the group of authors who have been flambéed on Amazon. Tee hee.
I recently came up with a great marketing angle for divorce attorneys. (Whoops - sorry. On choppy thought days, there are no segues, no gentle transitions. I should have warned you to fasten your seat belt. Ready? Okay. Let's continue.) Anyway, they should start a commercial with pictures of Scott Peterson, Mark Hacker, Robert Blake, etc. Then, fade to black. Voice Over says, "Hey. Guys. We have the answer." Then, in white block letters, D-I-V-O-R-C-E comes up on the screen. Then show the divorce lawyer's logo with some sort of slogan along the lines of "Divorce. It beats getting b@$$-f#$%ed in prison."
I like it.
God. I hope my mom doesn't read this blog. I can just hear the phone call now. "Honey, do you really have to mention getting b@$$-f#$%ed on your blog? Can't you use nicer language, or at least say 'sodomized'? People are going to think I raised you to be crude."
My answer to this is, of course my mother didn't raise me to be crude. It just happened, like penicillin, or The Spice Girls. I can understand her surprise, though; my mother is the least crude person out of anyone I've ever met in my entire life. She doesn't drink. She doesn't swear. She's kind to everyone no matter how awful they are and she actually thinks before she speaks. I have no idea where I came from. I'm playing with a switched-at-the-hospital theory. I suspect my real parents are somewhere out there, possibly starring as Perps of the Week on Cops, while a very sweet and confused daughter stands close by, clutching her bible and saying, "I just don't understand..."
So, everyone, during this holiday season, please take a moment to think of my poor mother and her real daughter. Meanwhile, I'll be in the corner, cursing and drinking and bringing shame to my family.
Coming in the New Year... the first chapter of Maybe Baby!!
Posted by Lani at 9:34 AM | Comments (4)
December 22, 2004
Nog me
Lani, from the nog bowl...
Well, there's nothing like shopping for Christmas at the last minute, is there? Actually, I wouldn't know even if there was, because I've never done it any other way. I know, hard to fathom, me, being disorganized. But, hand to God, it's true. The thing is, shopping early, it's so frustrating because there's no excuse for not finding the perfect thing. Tie not quite right? There's time; keep shopping. Can't recall if your best friend is a closet Go-Gos fan? Give her a call, be crafty, suss it out of her. There's time. Gah. The pressure. Who can deal with it?
See, with me, there is a method to the madness. I know the secret to the holiday season, and it has freed me from endless hours of should I get the red sweater or the green sweater? and does anyone really need a silver-plated cheese grater? etc. And I'm about to share that secret with you.
Here it is: No one really cares what you bought them. Most people just want to hang out with you, unwrap a trinket or two, and have a little egg nog. Okay, so it's not exactly a Nobel Prize-worthy revelation, but it keeps me from getting in a cold sweat about Christmas, so it's a win for me.
Now, I realize this all may sound like a big justification because I'm lazy and unorganized and I do all my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. And maybe I'm just taking this attitude because I don't care what anyone gets me for Christmas, or if anyone gets me anything for Christmas.
I'm really just in it for the egg nog and the company.
Now, with kids, I'll admit, it's different. You gotta pay attention with kids and get them something you know they'll like, but let's face it - kids are notoriously easy to shop for. As long as it's a) expensive, b) loud, and c) has lots of small parts we'll be finding wedged in the vacuum cleaner for years to come, they're happy. Oh, and no underwear. No clothing of any kind, actually. And nothing home made. Outside of that, it's easy breezy japanesey.
But with adults, we agonize. We ponder. We wonder. We wander. Up and down the mall, twice, thrice, and still we can't decide between the electric shaver and the Marilyn Monroe tie that sings "Santa, Baby." And you know what? Doesn't matter. If they love you, they'll love it. And if they don't, they won't. So this year, buy a gift certificate and get nogged.
Of course, it occurs to me that if you're reading this on the 22nd of December and you haven't already done all your Christmas shopping, then pretty much, I'm preaching to the choir. Or you're not Christian, in which case, have a Rockin' Channukah, a Kickin' Kwanzaa, or a very nice and peaceful whatever it is you celebrate or refuse to celebrate at this time of year.
Now, go get nogged.
Posted by Lani at 9:36 PM | Comments (1)
December 21, 2004
Trams, Christmas trees and TV signals...
From Michelle, who is no longer in the Internet cafe but is at home WITH HER OWN INTERNET CONNECTION, yeah!
Yes, after four months in the Internet cafe I can finally log on without having to get dressed, force my unruly hair into some kind of order, and apply makeup!
Talking of hair, the other day I decided that enough was enough and I really should get over my phobia of finding a new, trustworthy hairdresser who wouldn't run amok with orange streaks or something equally outlandish, and I really should get it cut before Christmas so as not to scare anyone, so I booked an appointment and set off for the tram...
THE TRAM
The Number 1 tram stops just around the corner from my new apartment, which is wonderful because (a) I don't feel like walking or bicycling to the hair salon because it is freezing cold and raining, and (b) I don't have a car (refer to earlier entry about gas being $8 per gallon).
As I round the corner the tram is just arriving, so I run to catch it. Kind tram driver waits for me. What a lovely man for not making me wait eight more minutes for the next one in this horrible weather!
Anyway, about five minutes later I realize that the tram has mysteriously taken a completely different route to its usual one. I glance around at my fellow passengers for signs of confusion or annoyance, but all are serene. They all obviously know something that I do not!
So I jump off at the next stop and check the number on the side of the tram. It is a number 7 tram, not a number 1 tram. But the number 7 tram doesn't even go to the tram stop around the corner from my apartment, only the number 1 tram goes to the stop around the corner from my apartment.
I still haven't figured this out...
(PS. My hair turned out just fine!)
THE CHRISTMAS TREE
While I was in the middle of another 0900 TEN CENTS PER MINUTE call to find out why my TV signal wasn't working, my Christmas tree collapsed.
This is because a) the lovely Jef and Dan insisted that I go with them when they went to buy their tree so I could get one, too, b) I had to buy a new tree stand because my old one still hasn't materialized from the unpacking, c) the screws in the new tree stand were too short to reach the trunk of my obviously deficient, skinny Christmas tree, so I had to stuff cardboard between them and the trunk to hold up the tree, then d) I watered the tree to stop it from dying.
Yes, you read that right. I watered the tree. And the cardboard. And we all know that when you mix water and cardboard you end up with soggy, mushy pulp, don't we? Well, I did but then I kind of forgot because I was preoccupied with the TV problem so I just didn't think...
Two hours later, after disentagling the lights and ornaments, and after some nifty trunk-enhancing work involving dry cardboard and waterproof duct tape, my tree was back up!
THE TV SIGNAL
After nearly a month of no TV I finally have a TV signal. It's true! This is what happened...
When the cable guy came around to install the Internet he told me I'd got the TV plugged into the wrong outlet.
"But.. But it says 'TV' on the outlet," I tell him, thoroughly bewildered.
"Yes, but that's the old TV connector from the 1950's," he replies.
The real "new" outlet is located on the opposite side of the room, in a corner, by the balcony door, niftily concealed by the radiator heating...
I mean, anyone could make that mistake, couldn't they?
Am off now to a) wipe egg off face, and b) watch TV whilst admiring my Christmas tree and surfing Internet for fabulous last-minute gifts...
Posted by Michelle at 5:23 AM | Comments (0)
December 17, 2004
In The Blink of an Eye (or Five Millions Blinks)
From Michelle, the slakker blogger in Rotterdam...
After a three week hiatus involving (a) moving into my permanent apartment, (b) unpacking gazillions (feels like) of boxes and squeezing the contents into my apartment, and (c) attempting the impossible task of arranging all vital services, I’m back!
When I say “back” I mean “back in the Internet café” because, of course, one of the services I still don’t have is the Internet. More about that later.
You know, after all the endless waiting, and more endless waiting, and endless wading through red tape, I assumed that once we became “real” people, with the right papers, living in a real apartment, everything else would follow.
What a poor, deluded fool I was!
Here’s my tale of “getting connected” triumphs and woes...
You know how you call a service and then you get connected to a voice menu, and multiple choices, and then hours of music before you get to speak to an actual, you know, real person? Well, over here it’s the same kind of thing (except in Dutch, obviously) but you HAVE TO PAY TEN Eurocents (aprox twelve US cents) per minute for the privilege. Ten cents per minute to be left hanging on the telephone! I kid you not!
Anyway, I digress. In order to get connected to anything I have to go through this process because there’s no choice, so I will stop whining about the cost.
And at least it has helped with my Dutch language skills.
Favorite new phrase (and if you happen to be Dutch and I’ve misspelt any words, I apologize in advance):
Al onze medewerkers sein noch in gesprek. Een ogenblik gedoelt, alstublieft.
Literally translated it means “All of our representatives are currently in conversation. Wait for the blink of an eye, please.”
The tale of the telephone...
So I call the telephone company’s 0900 TEN CENTS PER MINUTE number, as instructed. I listen carefully to the Dutch menu options and make my choice. And some piped music, the recorded message about all the reps conversing and waiting an ogenblik, and after about two million ogenbliks (feels like) I get through to a real person.
After I explain that I’m moving into my permanent apartment and would like a telephone number (imagining that there’s bound to be a problem) the rep stuns me. “No problem,” the very nice rep tells me. “We’ll connect you on Friday. Just fill in the form we send you, enclose a photocopy of your husband’s passport and make sure we get it back within five working days.”
Easy! So when the form arrives I fill it in, enclose a copy of Oh Patient One’s passport, trip to the post office and mail it back. And then I buy a telephone...
Can’t plug it in because, of course, it has the wrong kind of connector. I mean, I just assumed that there was only once kind of connector.
Back to the store I go to look for a phone with the right connector...
But when I get home and plug in the second phone, it works! Yeah!
And they all phoned happily ever after!
The tale of the TV...
So I call the energy company on another 0900 TEN CENTS PER MINUTE number (can you tell that the TEN CENTS PER MINUTE thing seriously grieves me?) to arrange for electric and water.
Three million ogenbliks (and some pleasant piped music and that message about reps currently chatting) later I get to speak to a real person.
“No problem,” the very nice rep tells me. “Just take the meter readings, fill in the form we send you, and send back with a photocopy of your husband’s passport. By the way, did you want to be connected to TV, too?”
Wonderful rep! I didn’t know that the energy company could connect my cable TV, too! How nice of him to tell ignoramus me. And at TEN CENTS PER MINUTE, I was delighted to kill another bird with the same stone. And the TV would be connected within three days. Fantabulous!
So I fill in the form, attach a copy of Oh Patient One’s passport, trip to the post office and mail it. And then I realized that I’d totally forgotten to fill in the meter readings.
Oops...
So a couple of days later (to give them time to receive the form) I call the energy company again and after five million ogenbliks (feels like) I get through to a very nice rep. And after I tell her my tale, and also tell her that we still don’t have a TV signal and that I think the missing meter readings are the reason for this, she says, “Yes, that’s why you have no TV signal yet. No worries,” she adds. “I’ll take the meter readings now over the phone. Your TV will be connected in three working days.”
Success!!!
Four days later we still have no TV signal, but the energy company has sent me another form to fill in because, of course, the meter readings were missing from the first one.
Gah!
So I call the energy company again and after about ten million ogenbliks (and lots of TEN CENTS PER MINUTE charges) I speak to yet another nice rep. “We don’t take meter readings over the telephone,” she tells me. “But...but the other person said I could,” I wail. “We definitely don’t,” she insists. “But you can fax the information to us and your TV will be connected within three working days.”
So I fax the form. And wait. And wait. And a few days later we still have no TV signal.
So, at great personal expense both in time and cents per minute, I call the energy company again. Fifteen million ogenbliks later I speak to yet another nice rep. “No, the missing meter readings have nothing to do with you not being connected to the TV signal,” she tells me, totally contradicting her very nice colleagues. “According to my records, our TV engineer came around on December 1st and connected your TV signal.”
He did?
“But I didn’t see him, and we still don’t have a service,” I tell her. “No, he doesn’t need to come into your apartment,” she assures me. “He connected from our, er, connection box outside the apartment. There must be a problem with your signal. You need to call the company who provide the signal and explain to them that you are not connected.”
I do?
So after I hang up, I call the 0900 TEN CENTS PER MINUTE number she’s given me (and, it has to be said, at this point I am totally baffled that there is another company involved in providing my TV signal).
Fifty thousand ogenbliks later I speak to (yet another) nice rep. “Your data is not on my computer,” she tells me apologetically. “You have to call another department to register.”
Do I really, really have to?
“But...but can’t you just transfer me?”
Please don’t tell me I have to call and go through the whole voice menu thing again.
“No, you have to call the number and select a different option from the menu,” she says, and I am getting ready, at this point, to give up.
So I call, and one hundred thousand ogenbliks later I get another rep. This one obviously had a heavy session the night before because he is yawning down the phone at me.
God, it’s probably the wrong department after all this.
“No, this is the right department,” he yawns at me. And then he takes my details and registers me on his computer, and tells me that I should have a signal within 24 hours. “But we have a technical problem in your area,” he adds. “Our signal is down and no one has TV at the moment.”
I JUST DON’T BEELEEVE IT!
“And you need to call back the energy company to tell them that you have registered with us directly,” he adds.
PLEASE LET THIS TORTURE STOP!
But before I let him go back to sleep, I did notice on the voice menu that Internet was one of the options. “Um, while I have you on the phone,” I say just a bit apologetically, because I’m feeling guilty at depriving him of his beauty sleep, “I don’t suppose you could arrange cable Internet for me, could you?” So you could knock me down with a feather when he says yes and runs through all the different deals I could have, and then I choose one, and then he tells me that the engineer will be around next Monday to install the software for me.
On Wednesday I called the energy company again to tell them that I should be connected and that the other company told me to call them back. “Oh, they’re always referring customers back to us,” the rep says. “Really, if there is a problem with your signal you need to call them again.”
Gah!
Yesterday, bravely facing another gazillion ogenbliks hanging on the phone, I called the second company again because I still didn’t have a TV signal.
“Oh, you were connected yesterday,” yet another rep tells me. “But we are still having technical problems and there is no signal in your area.”
Today, three weeks later, I still have no TV signal. I don’t know if it is because a) I am still not connected, or b) the signal is still down. When I’ve had a little lie down, because my brain hurts from all of this, I am going to spend a lot more ogenbliks and money calling the 0900 TEN CENTS PER MINUTE number. Again.
And they never, ever got a TV signal ever again, and lived unhappily TV free ever after.
(And if my some miracle I do ever get connected, when the bill comes in, I’m sorely tempted to write and explain that I’m sorry, but due to the enormous phone bill I ran up from all those 0900 ogenbliks, I’m currently broke and they will need to wait an ogenblik or five gazillion for their money.)
As for the Internet? The guy’s coming (supposed to be coming) on Monday. But I ain’t holding my breath.
Posted by Michelle at 10:51 AM | Comments (2)
December 16, 2004
Chick Lit Super Stars!!!
Alesia, still from deadline central...
Just a note to pop in and say HUGE CONGRATS to our very own Michelle Cunnah and Lani Diane Rich for their award nominations!! CALL WAITING and TIME OFF FOR GOOD BEHAVIOR are both nominated for RT BookClub book review magazine’s Best Chick Lit of the Year award!!! WOO HOO!! What an honor and so well-deserved!
Hugs,
Alesia, also wishing you all happy holidays – see you next year!!!
Posted by Alesia at 6:28 PM | Comments (3)
December 10, 2004
Deadlines and jingle bells . . .
Alesia, from freaking out central...
There’s nothing like having a 3-week case of the flu to wreck a girl’s plans for a relaxed holiday. NICE GIRLS FINISH FIRST is now due the first week of January, effectively putting all my great plans for decorating, shopping, and holiday-ing in the tinsel-bedecked toilet.
Or, as Leah in A PUBLICIST AND A PEAR TREE would say, “Deck the freakin’ halls.”
But it’s okay, because at least my house isn’t decorated. And my gifts aren’t purchased. And the 19 stocking stuffers my son needs to take to school Monday aren’t bought. Or the large bag of M&Ms he needs for the party. Or the ‘gender-neutral ornament and book’ my daughter needs for her school.
The bag of plastic spoons? Turned in already. I was all over that bad boy.
Tomorrow is Navy Guy’s holiday party, which will mean dressing up to go out and spend a few hours with a bunch of people I never see, don’t know, and with whom I have nothing in common. At least there will be alcohol.
Seriously.
So, if you’re on my list, and wondering why you didn’t get a card yet (or, maybe, ever) or a gift, or that hand-knitted cashmere scarf you’ve been wanting (mwah ha ha ha), just remember: the holiday season is more about giving than receiving. :)
Speaking of giving, I need to do my random drawing for my cool chick lit ornament (or 3!), so if you haven’t already, sign up for my contest and e-newsletter with the spam-free guarantee.
Hugs,
Alesia, who really really needs some spiked eggnog
Posted by Alesia at 5:07 PM | Comments (0)
December 4, 2004
Choppy Thoughts
Lani, from Choppy Thought Central...
Sorry, folks. Alesia, Michelle and I have all been MIA lately, and we apologize. Alesia and I are both on tight deadline, and Michelle just moved into her special I'm-A-Real-Person apartment, and is doing all sorts of real person things there.
But we'll all be back soon.
In the meantime, I'm here to introduce you to something very special.
The Choppy Thought.
For those of you who came here from my old blog, you'll remember the Choppy Thought. It originated from a discussion I had with some college friends many moons ago, referencing those conversational sideroads that lead absolutely nowhere but we all seem to take anyway. As I get older, I find myself existing more and more in Choppy Thought Land because... well... I tend to start out with a full thought, get halfway through, and then forget where I was going, and head out somewhere else entirely.
For instance - I have a cynical suspicion that the new Snickers Marathon Energy Bar is really just a Snickers... only flatter. I mean, I appreciate them hitting it with the sledge hammer and everything because who doesn't love a nummy flattened candy bar but I think they should just come right out with it and call it the Consumers are Stoopid Energy Bar (Wink Wink).
Does it seem strange to you guys that the first movie Barbra Streisand does in forever is Meet The Fockers?
Julia Roberts had twins. I want to be happy for her, but I know she was back to her pre-pregancy weight before the second kid was all the way out the chute. Five years after having my first daughter, I'm still not within spitting distance of my pre-pregnancy weight. I'm not proud of myself for being bitter about this. I'm just saying. Perhaps I should send her a congratulatory box of Snickers Marathon Energy Bars?
Well, that's all I've got. I'm even running low on Choppy Thoughts. But if you have some of your own, feel free to share them here! We always love to hear from you...
Posted by Lani at 10:10 PM | Comments (2)
