On the down low

My husband and I showed up at a friend's house, stuck the baby on her doorstep with a note tied around his neck and then ding-dong-ditched and ran for the car. We drove at top speed for an hour and checked into a lovely hotel in Pasadena. I'm sure the baby was fine. The note had instructions. It said:

1. Feed.
2. Give juice.
3. Give hugs.
4. Change diapers.
5. Put to sleep.
6. We'll show back up eventually.

See? Fine.

The hotel was lovely but we dropped our overnight bags on the fancy carpet and drove a mile to the Huntington Gardens and Library. Spectacular. There were Japanese and Chinese gardens, Australian gardens, subtropical gardens, desert gardens (full of strangely colored and questionably shaped cacti and succulents [which I'm sorry, but that just sounds like a naughty name for a plant]), candy gardens, Hot Wheels gardens, kitschy gnome statuary gardens, and pink flamingo gardens. Or so I assume. I withstood the heat only long enough to make it through the desert gardens before escaping into the air conditioning of the library.

There's a statue of George Washington and I stared at it while the guard told me to put my drink away and I defiantly swigged it down instead. I didn't get my picture taken with the General or visibly swoon when I saw his actual signature on some documents, because my husband's been slightly testy about the President ever since we watched the John Adams HBO series and I confessed that if Kenny dies first, I'm marrying George Washington.

I saw an original quarto of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing and a Gutenberg Bible. And a bunch of other stuff.

It was a good day.

We wandered back to the hotel and I got a Dove bar and a new book from the hotel gift shop and peeked at the people in fancy evening dress that were milling about waiting for various brides to show up. Then I read for a couple of hours, as did my husband, and then we went to the Happiest Place on Earth:

Whole Foods.

I have heard of its goodness and glory. I have even seen brief snatches of its majesty on Top Chef.

But I had no idea.

We wandered the cheese and chocolate aisles in a happy stupor and planned a date night in the future where we do nothing but hang out in the Whole Foods. That's not a lie. We have one only thirty minutes away. I'm sure it's just as wondrous.

Then we ate at a place Charrette recommended (being as this was her old stomping ground) called The Parkway Grill.

Oh, yum.

I had pasta in a Thai sauce with duck and then half a roasted chicken that they imported directly from heaven with a side of goat cheese mashed potatoes too sinfully rich to come from heaven, too. Delicious.

The next several hours are a blur as I spent it in a food coma but we eventually made it back to our friend's house and knocked on her door. She gave us back our baby and they seemed to have followed directions. He gave us kisses and played with us the whole rest of the afternoon. Mainly he made up games, like "stick a pencil in this Indian flute and giggle when it falls out" and then you just kind of repeat that twenty or a hundred times. He also likes "roll this plastic bowling ball under the TV stand and then fish it out with the Indian flute" and "climb on Daddy's back while he reads and then bounce up and down" a lot.

I like weekend getaways.

P.S. I get to hang out with LisAway tomorrow, all you snooty-pants bloggers with your regular Utah bloggy get togethers. *Sniff.

We are Avante Garde.

Summer is a great time for children to do enrichment activities. Like this child. This child who is shifty-eyed and hiding his hands behind his back. Turns out, this child decided to take up . . .

ART. With a Sharpie. On each wooden step of the bunk bed ladder.
And the wall.

And the door.

And himself.

I don't think he's properly remorseful. Just irritatingly resourceful.

Infinity plus one

I am "friends" with girl Topper. And by "friends," I mean we are thrown together often in social situations. She drives me a little nuts because no matter how good or bad YOU have it, she has it better/worse.

I have known her for months now and it never fails. Real conversations I've heard include:

Never mind. I transcribed three verbatim conversations to make my point but I deleted them to protect the guilty. Because you know, whatever critical thing I say on my blog, she'll just top on hers, which would suck. And also because it's wrong. Even though she doesn't read my blog.

It's a little wearing. Wherever you've worked, she's worked somewhere just like it, only better. Whoever you know, she's known longer. Plus she knows their neighbors and mailman. Wherever you shop, she gets a discount. Whatever you eat, she makes from scratch.

Did I say it's a little wearing? I meant downright obnoxious.

I want to like her. I really do. But she makes it really, really hard.

"I think I have a cold."
"Oh, yeah? I sneezed and my uterus came out."

"We're going to Hawaii on vacation."
"I used to be Miss Hawaiian Tropic."

"We might get a dog."
"My mother-in-law breeds them."
"Which kind?"
"Every kind. In the whole world. She's the Noah of dog breeding."

I think I might take up yoga just so I can do some kind of holistic anger management. Although that's a little strong. It's more like irritation management.

Then again, it probably wouldn't matter. She probably teaches yoga. She probably owns a yoga studio. She probably owns all the yoga studios in my whole city.

Forget yoga.

See? She ruined that now, too.

Top that.

Oh, boy.

"Hi! I'm your new editor."

Can I tell you that that is a really cool email to get? Really cool. And that's the email I got on Friday along with lots of attachments full of cool writer-y stuff. I got my professional photog-SIL to do my author head shot yesterday because she's moving to another state in a week or two and I wanted it done per the directions. I spent the weekend composing different book dedications and stressing that I would leave someone out of the acknowledgements. I considered suggestions for the book cover and dreamed about galley proofs.

And I spent a lot of time laughing about this comment in the evaluation they sent me to use when starting my next round of revisions:

Around page 129, there’s a bit with Jessie going on a blind date; I couldn’t see how that really was needed in the story because it didn’t seem to connect to the rest of the story.

Let me clarify. I spent a lot of time laughing AFTER I finished grumbling and throwing things. Because here's the thing. . .I already did one rewrite for my manuscript Click that incorporated several changes my (super cool) publisher asked for the first time. Most of them made obvious sense and I knew the story was stronger for it. But there was one change . . .

Oh, how I resisted it. It just didn't fit for my character. I railed against it, fretted about it, stressed and plotted, trying to find a way to include the change. Finally, after three weeks, I found a solution. I wrote the scene. It was funny. I still didn't think it needed to be in there, but I added it.

So let's look at the feedback from Friday again: Around page 129, there’s a bit with Jessie going on a blind date; I couldn’t see how that really was needed in the story because it didn’t seem to connect to the rest of the story.

Uh, okay. Let me explain how it ended up in there. It was because I got this evaluation in November: What about having her go on another date? Maybe during the work week pause before seeing Ben? It could give her clarity and be a moment where she realizes she would rather be with him. Or earlier in the story she could go on a date with someone else and text him during it on how much of a nightmare it is (e.g. guy is doing something horrific—most of us can relate to wanting to get out of some awful date). I like the second option better—it would be funny and something a lot of people could relate to. Either way, she needs to go on another date.

And so she did. And apparently I put her through that awful date for no reason other than I am mean and like to torture a character who has treated me kindly. Forgive me, Jessie.

So I guess this is what getting published means, changing things and then changing them back. And I'm not complaining. It's easy to hit the delete button for the scene. But man, that feedback was good for a laugh.

You know . . . right after I threw stuff.

Let me emphasize that I really, REALLY love my publisher and there's no way my editor knew about these two distinctly different pieces of advice. I'm sure my editor and I will figure out which way to go on this. But I LOVE my publisher, 'kay?

Don't do drugs.

The ORIGINAL idea was to have a wall space that was cool, chic, and modern with candles and interesting found pieces in colors that accented our red, white and brown color scheme.


This is the reality:

Now, my blog is my space for Friday Favorites. Assuming I'm not mad at the world or the old man in the grocery store or the cranky manager in Ann Taylor Loft or my children or the neighbors who smoke or the neighbors' dogs with extra jingly dog tags or HB parking enforcement, or. . .


Wait. What?

Oh, yeah. So sometimes I do Friday Favorites here, in this virtual space. Turns out this is a genetic tendency that's been passed down to my kids because they now have little spaces where they like to put their favorite things. That those are not MY favorite spaces to see those things matters NOT AT ALL.


And this is a Picture of Entropy, the close up: This pile includes two cards my oldest got from Grandma, a skull he cut out, and his iPod Shuffle. Sometimes it also includes a yo-yo and an authentic aboriginal boomerang. When this was the only pile, I thought it was kind of cute. Then this showed up:

This is where he started putting things he doesn't want Baby G to touch: some goo that makes a fart noise when you squish it, his PSP, a comic he drew, and his Pringles. It's not like I'm helping the situation. That boat shaped tray at the top was supposed to be a lovely centerpiece with red candles and pretty river stones that sat on our coffee table. But Baby tries to eat the rocks so I moved them. And then I forgot to put two of the Christmas candles away and sticking them on top of other candles that don't match must have sounded good at some point, because that's what I did.

Then there's this candle:

There should just be a pretty white one, but the jar scent on top is sugar cookie and I love burning it, but not where Baby G can get to it, and now it's just sort of. . . there. All the time. (P.S., James loves Scotch tape. He picks it as an award when he fills up his reward bean jar for doing well at school.)

Remember that old drug prevention PSA where this dad comes in with his kid's pot stash and he's all, "Where did you learn to do this?" and the kid is all, "I learned it by watching you, Dad! I learned it by watching you!"

Uh, I guess there's a little of that going on here because I had this conversation with my eldest the other day:

"Quit putting your stuff up on the shelf. That's not what it's there for.

"You do it."

Well-played, Number 1. Well-played.

Visit Not Entirely British for a chance to win Marcia Mickelson's new book, Pick Up Games.

Lucky 7

Being too good-looking isn't the worst problem to have, but it can be annoying. My best friend Sarah has been plagued by this year for years. She's been an unwilling status symbol in every ward or social circle she's occupied, badgered for dates by guys who just want to be seen out with her because she makes very nice arm candy. Worse, girls are often territorial and catty when she first arrives on a new scene, and it takes her a while to make friends. It's ironic, because Sarah is one of the least backstabbing, most loyal people you will ever meet. She's uninterested in game playing or turf battles with other women and wants their guys to leave her alone as much the girls do. It just takes the ladies a while to figure it out and then it's fine, but she always resents the time it takes them to reach that conclusion. (She's still single, so that's why it's an ongoing issue. And yeah, I know, this doesn't count as real problem on the scale of bad things that happen in life.)

I was her "wingman" for years in college. I don't know what the girl equivalent is for a wingman, so we'll just go with wingman. Anyway, I got to watch this weird phenomenon of being a 10 up close and personal. There are perks: I personally witnessed her get out of six different traffic tickets while I was a passenger in her car. We got in free everywhere. And she got lots of freebies. But there were the down sides, too: the mean girls (even though she eventually won them over), and the shallow guys who flocked to her just because she's pretty. That more than anything convinced me I was perfectly happy as a 7. This is the difference: I didn't get in free anywhere, but I always got in. And boys tended to be more drawn to me for my personality than my looks, which is a better foundation for building on. Girls could still be kind of mean until I got to know them (and vice versa), though.

For all of the good-looking guys who went after her, Sarah rarely dated any of them. She went for less obvious choices. She loved dating outside of her culture, or dating guys with plain or even odd looks, but tons of personality. The "hot" guys never got it, that "hot" is a relative term whose definition is strictly in the eyes of the beholder. In Sarah's eyes, "hot" means funny and smart and not intimidated by her. Oh, and someone who follows professional sports. I think she watches everything but hockey. Eh, she probably watches that, too.

Anyway, being her best friend for over fifteen years taught me early on that I like being above average and well below spectacular. I'm not going to lie and say that I don't care about being attractive. I do. It's helpful in getting what I need because we live in a beauty driven culture. It's stupid, but it's true, so whatever. I'll use it to my advantage.

We all know that physical attractiveness, especially when we're using Botoxed and surgically altered media hogs as the standard for a "10", has very little to do with real attractiveness. Are you kind? Funny? Thoughtful? Smart? Creative? Then I'll be your friend. If your beauty is only skin deep, forget it. I don't have the patience for people who haven't grown roots under those glossy good looks, you know? I mean, good looks are just good luck. The right genes from my parents mashed up. So what? Am I supposed to take credit for that? Should anyone? I'm far more interested in the way people develop the parts of their character that are totally within their control.

I know there's nothing profound in this. It's just a thought sparked by Janette's Rallison's reflections. And I don't mean to sound vain. I don't think I am. Being a 7 (maybe an 8 if I drop ten pounds and do my make up) is nice , but it's just lucky. It's not like it's something I earned. But the blessing of good friends who find in me something beyond a passably pretty face? I don't even have a number for that.

Did you notice my new subtitle? The votes came in and Luisa's suggestion handily won. I like it! I'll be emailing you today to see which prize you want to claim. Yay, Luisa!

On the street where I live

I live on the prettiest street in my city. Not that I'm biased or anything. But it's wide and gracious, lined with huge eucalyptus trees and flanked on either side by twisty sidewalks and Victorian inpsired row houses in bright colors. We're right downtown, just four blocks from the beach. On a clear day, if you stand on our back balcony and lean as far forward as you can without tipping into the parking lot, you can see the ocean.

Every Tuesday night, if you cross one block over, you run right into the weekly market night, full of produce booths, street performers, and all your neighbors. On any given day, I walk three blocks to my gym. The post office is on that corner. So is my dentist. If I round that corner, there are all kinds of little shops and cafes, restaurants and bars, and a chocolate store. Two blocks the other way leads you to a big park with lots of green space and a playground.

Best of all, literally around the corner from my house is the library. It's a 90 second walk. And right across the street from it? There's a Thai restaurant with fantastic drunken noodles and even better mangoes and sticky rice.

I love where we live. It's small but it's ours, and it's in the coolest part of town. I love that not much planning went into downtown back in the day and now multi-million dollar homes sit right next to beach shacks. I'll be sad when we buy a bigger place next year and we have to leave.

In the mean time, every day when I walk back from the gym, the brand new Italian place on the corner by my house smells of garlic and onions. Two such happy smells. But...my honey doesn't care for Italian and I want to eat there.

Anyone want to come visit?

An actual snapshot of my mind.

Death isn't on my mind very often. It isn't. It's so unusual, in fact, that I had to stop and consider why I was driving to drop off dinner at a friend's and thinking about the best way to die. When I followed the thought thread back, this is what I found. (It would be really hard to call this a train of thought because that's far too. . .linear. I think in bubble clusters. At best.)

This NPR story is really interesting. I wonder if Brother Blakesley would ever be on one of their shows as a legal expert. I know he's been on a few TV shows. I really like his Facebook status updates. Maybe if we ever drive through Vegas we could stop and visit him. Although I haven't seen him since I was fourteen. It would probably kind of weird. And even if I did make that phone call, there would be that awkward moment when we're in his living room catching up and he asks how my parents are. What do I say? "Uh, they're dead"? And then he'd want to know how and there's no fast way to explain how my dad died. Although he'll probably think it's cancer. But that's what my mom died from. And I don't feel bad for having to say it but I feel bad for other people having to hear it. And then there will be the follow up questions and I'll have to explain that it wasn't such a bad experience. I mean, what if they died all of a sudden and I didn't get to say what I wanted? Everybody got to say what they wanted before Mom and Dad died. But is it selfish to be glad they lingered? I mean, wouldn't I want to go fast?

Hm...how do I want to die?

I'm a lot better about these random brain field trips now. In high school, I'd often drop a statement like "I like blue popsicles" into a conversation about football and get blank looks. It made perfect sense in my head. I mean, they're talking about our JV team and who's going to make the varsity team, so it looked like this inside my brain:

I wonder if we have anyone at our school good enough to go past that to college or even the pros. How weird would it be if I saw a classmate play in the Super Bowl? I love Super Bowl commercials. But the funny ones, not the serious ones. They always have Gatorade commercials during the Super Bowl, I think. Those are always serious. I like blue Gatorade the best. Man, it's hot right now. I wish I had some blue Gatorade. Oooh, even better, a blue popsicle. "I like blue popsicles."

And then the blank stares.

When my friends discovered that no matter what the statement, I could always trace the convoluted logic that got me there, it became their little past time to get me to walk back through the bubble cluster.

"Books smell funny."

"Okay, Mel. How'd you get there?"

And it always surprised me that it wasn't totally obvious.

Me with an impatient sigh, "You were talking about pandas." Duh.

Tap, tap. Is this thing on?

Um, remember when you used to love and validate me with comments?

Me, either.

Sniff.

All right, I'm not doing a for real post today, but can you go vote on my sidebar poll for a subtitle? Cuz that would be nice. Thanks, man.

Changing stride

All right, kiddos.

Today I was going to tell you the most ridiculous story about my visit to the lady doctor yesterday but my husband said, "Do you really want to put that out there?" And no, I guess I don't, come to think of it. But it was hilarious! Just trust me, 'kay?

Instead, this is the blog post that I meant to put up yesterday but things got all nutty and two went up and so I took this one back down and....it was a big old mess because I got all confused and whatnot.

Anyway, my blogging fingers are tired so I'm giving them a break from their daily clickety-clack. I think I'm going do something a little more every other day-ish. Do you know until this week, I have never posted a draft? Meaning I think it, I blog it, I proofread it, I post it all in a one hour or less span of time. I thought it would be nice for all of us if I gave quality over content a shot and let things percolate a little more before I send them out into the world.

I know. It's revolutionary, right?

In the mean time, I'd love it if you'd hop over to my sidebar and vote in my poll. I put up some of my favorite submissions for my help-me-think-of-a-subtitle contest and I'd like some opinions because I'm having a hard time deciding. I may have to go with DeNae's suggestion of changing it up often. Stank you very much.

All right, here's your kisses for helping: Mwah-mwah! Except if you're a boy. No kisses. Unless you're my husband. Then it's lots of kisses.

Secret Family Recipes

"I stirred it with my finger."

That was my grandfather's standard response to, "How'd you make this taste so good?"

Pawpaw was a character, the scene stealing kind. The one that upstages the leading man just with the twinkle in his blue eyes.

He had a few stages he perfomed on, like the back of the chapel after Sunday services where he spun yarns for his friends. Or holding forth to his grandchildren from the comfort of his favorite armchair, cushioned in 1970's era putrid green velvet upholstery, a lazy dachshund on his lap.

But the big show? That was in the kitchen. He threw one dish towel over his shoulder, tucked another in his belt, and he set about making magic and sprinkling it with stories.

I spent every spare penny I had from my part time job in college to spend one week each spring with him in Louisiana. I sat at the breakfast bar while he puttered at the kitchen island, one minute showing me how to add rice to water without measuring it, the next telling me about how he made his ship's captain a turtle soup when he served in the Navy in the South Pacific during World War II.

I watched him like a hawk, asking questions all along the way. "How much file are you putting in the gumbo?"

He shrugged and held out a palmful of the finely ground sassfrass leaves. "This much."

All of his measurements were like that. Touch rice with the tip of your middle finger and add water until it reaches the joint of your first knuckle. That's how much it needs. Roux should be cooked until it's the color of an old brown penny. There's no so such thing as too much onion in a jambalaya.

Once I convinced him to let me try making a jambalaya while he supervised. He restrained himself from yanking his favorite wooden spatula from my hand and doing it himself, but it was a near thing. Especially when I grabbed a teaspoon to measure out the pepper.


"What are you doing?" he asked. "Hold out your hand." And he dumped a bunch of pepper in it. "Now pour that into the teaspoon." I did. It was exactly enough to fill it. "That's how you measure when you cook Cajun," he said. "It's done when your eyes, nose and tongue say it is, not the recipe."

I can do it now, but it sure makes it hard to share a recipe with a friend. "How much red pepper do I add?" I don't know. However much it needs.

No matter how many times I watched him and wrote down exactly what he said and did, my gumbo never did come out the same. "Pawpaw, mine's not as good as yours," I would complain in one of my many phone calls to him.

His raspy chuckle would come over the line. "That's because I have to stir it with my finger."

Maybe that's the trick. Or maybe it was a Spanish language movie that revealed the truth. I remember watching Like Water for Chocolate in college, sitting on my sofa in stunned silence as the credits rolled, gripped in an epiphany. It was not the spices or the cooking time or any secret ingredients thrown in when my back was turned.

It was a bit of Cajun voodoo he magicked on his creations that somehow infused each dish with a little bit of him.

I guess he told the truth about his magic ingredient. I know what it means when I say, "I stirred it with my finger." It means, "I made it extra special because I love you."

This post is an entry for Scribbit's Write Away contest.

Take a number.

I feel like I should apologize to the people ahead of me every time I get in line. Any line. They don't know it yet, but I just doubled their wait time. At least.


I really feel bad. I think folks usually pick a line because it looks like the fastest option. Or at least not the slowest one. It isn't. Until I show up.


If it's a Costco line, I promise that me queueing behind you guarantees a shift supervisor showing up to count the cash drawer at that very moment.


The grocery store? The person being rung up will suddenly pull out a ream of coupons, bigger than your head. Bigger than whatever child you pushed out with the biggest head's head. A big ream.


A clothing store? The register tape will break.


McDonalds? You won't realize until it's too late that the lady in front is ordering for a Little League team waiting in the van.


The movies? The couple next in line will continue their argument about what to see until they get to the window. Then they'll keep arguing. And arguing. And arguing. It will end only when every ticket to the movie you want to see is sold at every other window, then the couple decides on that movie too and buys the last pair of tickets. So, so sorry.


The DMV? Not my fault. Satan did that.

The rest of the lines. . . well, yeah. It's the universe's way of keeping me humble because my parking ju-ju rocks.

If you didn't see my last post, scroll down and check it out. I'm having a mini contest to come up with a subtitle for my blog. Help, okay?

Nuts.

That's what Sue gets. Lots of them. Because she won the See's Chocolate give away and I like lots of nuts in my chocolate.

I thought that I was going to be done with giveaways as of yesterday and I kind of am, but I'm kind of not. Because I'm going to have a little contest. And it's because I'm lazy and I'd rather walk to the post office and mail something to you than think of a solution for this myself.

Here's the contest: I want a subtitle for my blog. You know, where it goes right under the title at the top? Anyway, I want one but I can't really think of one. So far I have Write Stuff: Chicken Scratch and Nonsense. And that was a real attempt. Clearly, I need help.

So here's the deal. I'll leave this open until Wednesday with a little reminder every day to enter. And you just give me your best suggestion for a subtitle. Write Stuff: I talk too much. Write Stuff: A completely extraneous blog.

You get the idea. The one I like best will win its author either a cool notebook like I gave away earlier this week, or a copy of Annette Lyon's There, Their, They're: A No Tears Guide to Grammar, or a copy of Luisa's cookbook, Comfortably Yum. Just pick which one you like and I'll get it to you. So give me your ideas, okay?

There are other little minor tweaks and changes going on around here. You know how you decide to paint a room in your house and then it looks so good that you start painting every other room in your house? That's kind of what's going on here. I revamped the whole blog and then decided I wanted to tweak stuff like getting a blog subtitle and the little message in the comment box.

Oh, and I finally updated my blogroll. I've been such a slacker about that. And by the way, does anyone ever read my "Stuff I Love This Week" List? I think it might not matter and I'll keep it whether you do or don't, but I'm half interested in your opinion.

I need to go eat some oatmeal and do some cardio. I really, really don't want to. Really. But I already lost three pounds this week, and believe me, it wasn't by magic. It was by putting down the chocolate and backing away slowly.

That's totally not true. I ate a lot of chocolate. I did, however, not indulge in any fried foods.

Wait, that's not true. I had french fries last night and chips twice the week.

But I had less of everything and that pretty much did the trick. Oh, and thirty minutes of cardio every day. Definitely not magic. More like tragic.

And I eat sensibly. Mostly.

Hm. Write Stuff: I ramble a lot.

Okay, give me ideas and I'll give you a book of some kind. Deal?

Life is like a box of chocolates.

I write for a lot of reasons. Usually I have about twenty and they come in a box that looks like this.
Some people have stories burning inside of them to get out. Some people need a creative outlet for their flood of ideas.

I just really like chocolate and I can't have my daily piece until I write a thousand words. So I write.

This is my grand prize give away today: a one pound box of See's Chocolates. It kind of goes with my Friday Favorites I like to do sometimes, because you'll be getting the mix of my favorite pieces that I stock up on when I meet my writing goal approximately every three weeks. When that happens and I've eaten my last piece of writing chocolate, I march myself to the nearest See's (or sometimes the farther one because there's a Nordstrom in that mall and the siren call of their shoe department lures me to wreck my budget) and I fill a new box with the good stuff.

So I GUESS since this is the last day of give aways, if you want to be entered, leave a comment and somewhere in there add what your favorite kind of chocolate bon bon is. I MIGHT see that one makes its way into your box if you win. I might. And if you don't say anything about the chocolate (we are pronouncing it chock-oh-la-tay today), then you're not entered and I'll know you're just leaving a comment out of pure love.

One of my criqtique partners, Aubrey Mace, knows my love of See's well. She rewards herself with it whenever she puts in treadmill time. I mean, I guess some people would say virtue is its own reward, but virtue alone would never get ME on a treadmill. Anyway, we got to hang out at a writing conference in April and I was all excited to give her a box of See's. And she was all excited to pull out her present for me, which was. . . the exact same thing. So we were both very happy.

Since it's kind of Friday Favorites around here, let's turn to some blog spotlights. Or don't. It's not like I'll know you clicked away. But you'll be sad because it's all about bringing the funny today.

These are the blogs that I never, ever miss. Ever. Never.

A couple of these I'll slap with the following rating: Don't Go If You're Easily Offended, or DGIYEO.

That looks like "Diego," which always causes me great sadness. I want to have a boy named Diego but my husband says "Diego Jacobson" sounds stupid and I'm mad at him for not being Hispanic so that it wouldn't matter if he was named Diego. But we try to work through these things.

Navel Gazing At Its Finest. Really, do I need to say anything? Did you know she posted yesterday? Turns out her sofa didn't swallow her, she didn't move to a cabin in Montana to write anti-technology treatises, and she's not finding herself in an Indian Ashram. She's been hanging out at the pool.

The Lawsons Did Dallas: DGIYEO. I lurk. She never comments back on my blog. I don't care. She's funny enough that I will totally set aside my own narcissism and need for reciprocation so I can read her. She lives in Maine. Weird, right? I thought we sold that lot to Canada FOREVER ago.

Pulsipher Predilections: DGIYEO. It's the weirdest thing. Kristina posts, and then in twenty seconds she has over ten thousand comments. People LOVE her. With good reason. Stinking hilarious and she will go there. You know, there. You still don't know? There is anywhere that will make you say, "Oh no, she didn't." Like you're an "In Living Color" cast member. But oh, yes. She did. She really, really did.

Crast Test Dummy Diaries: Something's wrong with her. Wandering through her blog is a strange and winding trip full of invisible red thread and people named Wolfgang. That's why I go back and back and then I go back. And after that? I go back.

Suburb Sanity: I seriously love this woman. Snark with equal measures of wisdom. Great writer. Do NOT mess with her grocery store.

Finslippy: DGIYEO. Hysterical.

No Botox Allowed: I fell in love with this blog for the title alone. Then it turned out that Wendy is stinking hilarious. She makes fun of herself in a way that invites you to laugh with her.

My Real Life Was Backordered: This is the only blog I read aloud to my husband. I can't get enough. I want every heroine in every book I write to be just like DeNae. I want to help her help people off of bridges and just kind of follow her everywhere, waiting for sarcastic, lovely pearls to drop from her mouth. Then I want to string them into a necklace and wear them as a good luck charm to see if they make me funnier. And since there's something distinctly Hannibal Lecter-ish about that, I'll settle for openly and fervently stalking her blog.

All righty, then. (Don't say that Jim Carrey style. He's not that funny.) Don't forget to name your favorite bon bon for the shot at the See's chocolate box.

And now for yesterday's winners.

The Philosophy Raspberry Sorbet shower gel goes to. . . Annette Lyon! Woot!

And the character naming privileges go to. . .

Oh, dear heaven and all its angels.

DeNae.

Save me from Slappy Hooper!

This is the notebook I scribble in right now:

It has one page of notes I took on a trip to New York when I was pretending to be all writerly in the city and observing the natives. Then I lost it for it year. Then there's about twenty pages of notes and to do do lists for that stupid family night fundraiser I corralled.

This is the notebook I bought from Staples the other day to give away:

Cute, right? Oops. I forgot to take pictures of the purple pens. Whatever. Anyway, guess who won this notebook? Erin from If You Give a Mom a Moment!

This is the notebook I bought at Target yesterday because I wasn't kidding about having a problem. Then a whole bunch of you enablers showed up in my comment box yesterday and shared your deep and abiding love of notebooks too and I couldn't resist giving out another one. And guess who won that? Nancy!!!!

So what am I giving away today? Well, if your name is Slappy Hooper, you're going to be super excited. I'm giving away the chance to name a character in my current manuscript. And it might get published, too. Maybe even probably? I don't know. I think so! Anyway, I thought someone might like seeing their name as a character in a book, kind of like how Janette Rallison put James Dashner in My Fair Godmother (LOVED it). When I mentioned that's what I was giving away next, my husband said, "I'm going to enter that one and name the character Slappy Hooper!" which is his eBay i.d.

Uh, so please, a lot of you enter and decrease the odds that my smart, sassy Ashley ends up making out holding hands with Slappy Hooper. You have until midnight and you just need to drop a comment down below.

But wait....that's not all! I've had themes (sort of) for each give away this week but I have something else to give away that doesn't fit anywhere really, so I'm giving it away today. I love shower gels and smelly lotions and by far my favorite is Philosophy stuff. Soooo good. Especially Cinnamon Bun. Heaven! They even put the recipe on the bottle. But today I'm going to give away a shower gel scent from Philosophy called Raspberry Sorbet. Check it out:

Tomorrow I'm giving away my reason for writing, so stay tuned for that.

Speaking of, I think I do stuff besides give away things on my blog all day.

Where was I?

Uh....

Yeah, writing. Yesterday I told you about why I deep down for REALS blog now. It's about the love and neurotic need I have to be validated. And also talk to grown ups. But I did start out looking to connect with other writers and I've found some wonderful blogs in that vein. Early on someone pointed me toward LDS Publisher and reading that is one of the smartest things I ever started doing as a writer. That eventually lead me to Six Writers and a Frog and Writing on the Wall, two blogs that look at different aspects of writing. But then those are kind of the business, not fun, blogs I go to. When I want to hang out with like-minded writers who make me laugh smile and think, I go here:

Annette Lyon at The Lyon's Tale. You know her, you love her. She talks about writing all the time, like in her Writer's Journey which I find fascinating. But she talks about lots of other things that I love, like grammar and linguistics and Finland. Well, I don't know if I love Finalnd, but I love hearing about it. I'd love it if I went there, I bet. Want to take me, Annette? Anyway, she's so articulate that no matter how long her posts are, I NEVER get bored reading them and I have the attention span of gnat when it comes to blog posts sometimes. That's not to say hers are long. I just mean that she's one of the few people who can truly hold my attention for any length of time. Her personality and voice just shine through and she is in person exactly like I thought she'd be from her blog. And she has helped me soooo much, even though I ask some seriously stupid questions. She always, always helps me.

Lexicon Luvr: One of the nicest people EVER. Ever. I love reading her blog because it shines with such sincerity and she's soooo passionate about writing. You can tell she just loves it with every fiber of her being.

Becca Loves Books: I'm really new to this blog but man, she speaks my language. She's so down to earth and committed to her craft, but not all like super serious. She finds the fun in writing and I really like that.

There are a couple of other writer's blogs I like dropping in on a regular basis but the focus of their blogs isn't really about writing which is the only reason they aren't showing up in this list. Don't be sad!

Oh, AND. . . I forgot to anounce the winner yesterday for the recipes. It was Jessica G. Yay!

And don't forget to actually look at my new blogl ook if you haven't seen it yet.

Okay, enter away!

I'm one!

Check out today's give away and yesterday's winners at the bottom of this post! Go!

Today's the day! The actual birthday of my blog! I got it a new outfit, so if you're checking me out through a reader, you need to click over and tell me what you think. I lurrrrrrves it. Thank you, Mom Babe!

So this is where I tell you what I've learned in the last year, right?

Uh....basic HTML. Thank you, blogging.

Just kidding. The truth is, I started my blog because I read all these articles on writing that said you MUST have an internet presence and if you don't THEN YOU'LL NEVER GET PUBLISHED and the munchkins who run Kristina P.'s blog commenting sweatshop will mock you because you don't have a blog, you BIG DUMMY.

I freaked out and started a blog even though as of the first day I had mine, I had never even read one. I was just scared. I was peer pressured into blogging, stupid how-to articles.

I didn't even know what my blog would be about. I had this vague notion I'd write about my writing journey and hobnob with other people taking the same trip. I didn't really have fun writing those posts. Then I thought I'd use this as a place to develop my voice as a writer, experiment with different styles. But I'm too needy for that.

Because as I started wandering around other people's blogs and making friends, blogging evolved into a whole new thing for me. Let me tell you a little story. It's like one paragraph little.

There was this pretty princess named Melanie (okay, it was me) and she married her handsome prince and moved to a condo, er, castle by the ocean and she was so excited to stay at home with their babies and make lots of new friends. The princess always had lots and lots of friends, mainly because she talked a lot and got it into her head to go do fun stuff all the time and bewitched people into doing them with her, so she was excited for the new friends she would make in this new kingdom. And a year went by and she was losing heart because she wasn't making friends. She accepted every invitation she got, mourned the ones she didn't, kept a cheerful face and showed up at every activity. But the other princesses already had their princess friends and sort of overlooked our princess. A lot. And it made her sad. Then one day, our princess discovered a magic key to a magic room, that when turned, transported her to a place full of other princesses who were funny and smart and talented and liked it when our princess babbled. And she began to hang out with them and get to know them and look forward to seeing them each day. The big old hole where her missing friends used to be was filled and she was happy and her husband was relieved.

So blogging became something totally different than what it started as for me. This has become the place I go to hang out with like-minded people, to take a break from my cares, to be a part of a sisterhood, to laugh, and to think.

And for that, I owe so many of you a huge thank you. I could pick ten blogs a day for weeks that resonate with me for one reason or another, but that might get a little old for all of us, so I'm going to pick a few today and just know that I love YOU, okay? The blogs I want to highlight today are just happy places for me, for very different reasons from each other. But these are all smart, insightful ladies that I would call up to go get manis and pedis any time. (There are some of you who are going to be surprised you're not in today's list but that's because I'm putting you in Friday's spotlight of blogs that make me hurt myself laughing).

Heather of the EO really needs no introduction. Most of you read her and I'm not going to tell you anything you didn't already know when I say that she is smart, and compassionate, and generous and so relateable. And that word never looks right to me. Anyway, she's a heck of a writer and I often find a little bit of peace when I visit her blog. So go.

Lisa at Away From It All is one of the very first blogs I found and that found me. She has fascinating insights about life outside of the U.S. She's thoughtful, sure of her beliefs, has a great sense of humor, and is a great cheerleader. She hasn't been blogging nearly enough for my tastes lately, but it turns out she has a REALLY good excuse, so I'm going to give her a pass on that. Anyway, she's just such a level headed, cool girl and I might get to meet her this month. (Right, Lisa?)

Charrette at Divergent Pathways is simply amazing. She doesn't write often, but everything she produces is this perfectly polished gem, rich and colorful and life affirming. I always feel like a slightly better person after reading one of her posts. I can't do her justice with my own words; you'll have to read her yourself.

Stephanie at Diapers and Divinity inspires me with how incredibly well she stays on message. Her blog name is perfect. She seeks to find the goodness in motherhood and studies diligently in the scriptures and words of modern revelation for direction and clarity. She really does inspire me. It's that simple. I also like her humility in admitting that she struggles too, but she always tries to find a sense of humor about it.

Kimberly at Temporary? Insanity is another blogger I found early on. She's a fellow writer, so I relate to her that way, but her complete transparency about her triumphs and failings is so familiar to me. Sometimes her honesty makes me wince, but I can only respect someone who is so determined to peel back the layers in search of her best self. She's also incredibly generous with her blog knowledge and has helped me out many times.

I'll stop right there although I could go on. I'm always sad when I'm not on other people's lists because I'm a raving ego maniac, but I follow about 150 different feeds and I can't just pick everybody. I mean, I guess I could, but remember what I said about having to go on for days? Yeah...

I'll point out some more blogs I've found along the way tomorrow and Friday, but these were just some I've been hanging around for almost the whole year I've been blogging and they're part of the fabric of my everyday life.

Now, that the suck up section of this blog is over, it's time to move to the bribery section. Just kidding. But it's give away time!

You'll notice I kept the notebook in my template. It's very me. I love a fresh, clean notebook. You may even remember my ode to office supplies and the famous comment from the American Folder Company Troll. I collect notebooks. It's unintentional. I just see a cute one I love, buy it with every intention of filling it up, and then I desert it within a couple of months for a fresher, tartier upstart. So I have lots of partially filled cute notebooks at my house.

In honor of my new blog template and as a shout out to the original intent of this blog to be about me as a writer (oh, HA HA! It's about Me the Princess now!), I'm giving away a super cute notebook I bought yesterday at Staples (because I love Staples and want to marry it) and a package of my favorite pens and THEY ARE PURPLE and I don't care if that's cheesy. I like them. I can't find my camera for the moment so I have no picture for you. But it's 9.5" x 6" with a yellow cover and gray flowers and it sounds hideous but I love it. It even says "Fashion Notebook" on it in case you aren't sure if it's trendy or not.

Anyway, you can enter with just a comment as usual. I think my blog wouldn't mind if you wished it Happy Blog Birthday if you can't think of what else to say. Tell it you like it's new outfit, if you like.

And lastly but not leastly (Annette is readying her wet noodle for the whupping on that one), yesterday's winners!

Hershey's Chocolate Pretzel bars: Stephanie from Everyone's Excited and Confused (they're only 100 calories!)
Pecan praline fudge: Stephanie from Diapers and Divinity
Mint chocolate fudge: Aubrey (and no, I didn't rig it!)
Tony Chachere's seasoning: Caroly V.

This typo brought to you by sleep deprivation.

I really do know how to spell palate. And palette. I just don't spell the right one at the right time.

Oops.

There's a party in my tummy, so yummy, so yummy!

I like to eat. I don't have a particularly refined palate. My favorite places to go are barbecue joints, probably because I grew up eating Louisiana Cajun and soul food. In fact, when I received the mind-bending email that my book got picked up a couple of weeks ago, we celebrated by hitting Yelp.com in search of a new rib joint and driving out to try it. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives? Yeah, if they show one in a fifty mile radius, we're there. Probably even a hundered mile radius.

Anyway, I do have an adventurous palate, even if it's not refined. I love trying out new cuisines. One of our recent new favorites is an Ethopian joint that serves some fierce doro-wat. I don't much care what country it originated in; if it's got meat and killer spices, I'm down to try it. Or if there's bread involved. I'm a sucker for good bread. Or if there's a cream sauce. You can sign me up for that. Oh, and a great pulled chicken. Wait...I lost my train of thought.

Oh, okay.

I like to cook nearly as much as I like to eat. One of my favorite recent purchases is Comfortably Yum by Luisa Perkins who I had the delight of meeting in April. My husband and I just started a hard core eat light plan today so I have to wait a month to try some of her recipes, but I have a very good eye for recipes and I already bookmarked my copy for what I want to try.

Of course, I also have favorite food and recipe blogs I like to go to. I figured today I'd share some of my favorite food related things. If you're a kitchen dabbler, you may want to check these out. My friend Jen (we trade meals twice a week so I KNOW what I'm talking about) is a great cook and she's especially good with tasty, healthy stuff. I'm linking you to her Southwest corn chowder recipe on her Skinny Habits blog, one of my favorite things she makes.

My friend Emily is also a great cook. She hasn't been cooking up her usual storm lately, but I really like her homemade macaroni and cheese. She's a fellow Louisiana girl so it's hard to go wrong with the stuff that comes out of her kitchen.

And I always find good stuff from Scribbit and Mama Manifesto, like this great easy recipe for ginger lime chicken from a couple of weeks ago. We tried it and really liked it.

So today's giveaway is simple again. I'll send you five of my favorite recipes for a soup, bread, chicken dish, side dish and dessert. None of this goes together but it's stuff I really like.

And I figure I'll give away some of my favorite treats: Hershey's 100 calorie chocolate covered pretzels, pecan praline fudge (homemade), mint chocolate fudge (homemade), a can of Tony Chacere's creole seasoning, and I'm sure there are a million other things I could think to give away but then I would have to camp out at the post office to keep up with the packages and my postal clerks are super nice, but not THAT nice. Not "I want to camp out and mail stuff all day long" nice. Probably that really would make them go postal.

So same rules apply: just enter by commenting and that's it. Enter every day because you can totally win more than once. In fact, since lots of my regular readers are missing from the blogosphere lately, you have a GREAT chance of winning more than once. Easy-peasy, it's all about the party!

Yesterday's winners using the random number generator:
Becky: Austenland
Kristina P.: Birght Blue Miracle
Heidi Ashworth: Previously Engaged
Don: In Her Good Name
Linda: the lipsticks!

Woot! Send me your regular address via email at writestuff dot jacobson at gmail dot com and I'll get your stuff out to you. Books will go media mail so give them a little extra time to get to you. And thanks to everyone who's dropping by to say hi.

It's my party and you're invited!

Guess what happened on June 3, one year ago, on this very blog?

I wrote my first post and entered this strange, bloggy universe.

So this is a celebration week where I want to revel in the fun and friendships that blogging has brought me, and spread a little love and sunshine.

I'm going to give away something every day and since we know my oldest son rigs the drawings he does (okay, he doesn't but it's so strangely coincidental), I'm going to give the random number generator a shot for these drawings this week. I'm also unveiling a NEW LOOK on Wednesday, my official bloggiversary, and spotlighting some of my favorite blogs every day.

Now, for the first giveaway. . . it's nothing fancy, but I thought I'd revisit some of my favorite things I've blogged about over the year since I started and share them with you, my old and new blog buddies.

My first two giveaways are odd stuff that I thought would be kind of fun. The first is a little bit rummage sale style but with a bit of rubbing alchohol, we'll be good to go. You're going to either see this giveaway and think, "Ugh," or "Makes perfect sense."

I've mentioned an obsession with cosmetics several times on my blog, from Bare Minerals skin stuff to MAC colors. I've long been in search of the perfect nude shade of lipstick. I've ended up with several shades of lipstick that are nice, but not nice for me. Each has been worn exactly once with no luck...except for maybe that's lucky for you. I'm going to wipe those lippy sticks down with some disinfecting alcohol and send them to a lucky winner who wants them rather than just pitch them in the garbage can (they're nice and the idea of the waste makes me cringe!).

The second things I want to give away are definitely among my favorites: copies of books I've read, enjoyed, and want to share with you. My books are spilling out of their bookshelves and off of my nightstand so that means I have to find them new homes and I can't ever just bag them up and drop them somewhere. I have to personally place them with their new owners. I understand that this is totally nuts, but let's just call it part of my charm. Anyway, if you win one and then read and enjoy it: TELL A FRIEND and then go buy something else from one of these great writers and enjoy it, too:

First, we've got an identity theft thriller that will quite frankly freak you out and keep you turning the pages. Josi is such a good writer and one of the first authors I discovered when I started reading LDS fiction again.

This is a fun, happy book with lots of laughs and a great protagonist. This will definitely make you snort out loud several times.

For all you Darcy lovers, Shannon Hale's book will set your hearts aflutter with "What if...?"

A debut novel from an author whose blog I've recently discovered and enjoyed. This is exactly the kind of book I would have searched high and low to find when I taught 8th grade so I could give it to my students to read. Multi-faceted characters, non-cliche portrayals of family relationships, realistic growth in those characters and relationships. Cool cover!

So....how do you win? Since this is just for fun amongst friends, I'm not requiring any linky love or anything like that. This truly is just about sharing some of my favorite stuff with you guys, so all you have to do is make a comment letting me know you want to be entered. That's it.

Check back every day because I'll also be giving away some of my favorite treats, snacks, recipes, office supplies, bath stuff, AND....naming privileges for a character in my current work-in-progress which now has a very good shot at being published, too.

Anyway, each day's drawing ends at midnight my time (Pacific) and I lag behind pretty much ALL of you so that should give you plenty of time.

Thanks for making this such a fun and fulfilling year!

*The pecan praline fudge and copy of My Fairy Grandmother are both in the mail as of 9:30 Monday morning.