And Sometimes Quickies Aren't Very Satisfying

Just had to get a few things of my chest. You know, before I die of suffocation:



1) Plagiarists are shit-eaters!

2) The thing I hate most about being a writer is the waiting. Sick of it, do you hear me?

3) Condoleezza Rice is a big dork.

4) My ass is super fat today.

5) I want to stay home this Thanksgiving with my husband and children, have a friend and her daughter come eat turkey and stuffing with us (I make a righteous turkey), then get totally stupid on Corona after the kids are in bed, watch some movies, laugh, eat pie. But I can't. Obligations, obligations. How I hate obligations.



YEAH! I feel a bit lighter having removed those stones from my heaving bosoms. Not.



AddenDumDeDum Wow. This blogging business just may be magical -- first my nighttime weirdness goes away, and now this: almost immediately after posting the current entry, I heard from an editor regarding a story of mine that will be appearing in the mag's next issue. Excellent. Two wishes down, sixty thousand to go, then.



Maybe I should write an entry about how badly I want to win the lottery...



I invite all and sundry to rub my blog, if you're so inclined.