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la_belle_laideRight, so I made the corrections I wanted to make to the manuscript and sent it out yesterday. I'm to the point now where I don't even get that excited or nervous anymore. The last time an agent was really stoked about the full manuscript, she disappeared from the face of the freaking earth, apparently. :/ So I don't even really let myself think about it anymore.
I kind of am letting the other manuscript settle for a while. I wrote it like crazy in November for NaNo, then I went nuts for a few months re-reading it and dicking with this and that. I think I might have said this before, but I changed so much that my second draft was more of a first draft than the first draft. And now I have a ton of other things I want to change, but I have to walk away from it and think for a bit.
I promised myself I would rock National Poetry Month this year, but then all this stuff happened with the manuscript requests and pitch wars and etc. that I spent all my free time on those, and my poems have really sucked a big one. I mean not a huge deal, i'm not doing anything but putting them on HitRECord or anything, so.
Oh, speaking of, a few of my ideas / written pieces were chosen for a possible hR radio show, too. I really hope that doesn't fall through!
Umm, I cut my own hair. Why do I keep doing that? I mean, I keep doing it because I get bored and I don't want to pay someone else to do it for me, but still, I always screw it up and end up walking around with stupid looking bangs. Oh well. I'm going to dye them blue or something.
Callum's second birthday is in a few weeks. This is such a mind-bender to me because I still can't believe I had him. Like, he's still so new to me. I've played specific video games for longer than he's been around so far, you know? And I keep dreading when he turns two. Everyone who has kids keeps telling me how your darling little baby changes overnight when they turn two. Literally, they say. One day you have a sweet, generous, caring, cuddly little baby, and then one day, within two weeks of their second birthday, they wake up one morning and they are the devil and you're sitting there going, “Where did my child go?”
And I can kind of see it, because I mean obviously Callum is a toddler, and he wants what he wants when he wants it, and he is definitely a button-pusher (when I tell him he's a button-pusher, he presses his finger on my face and goes, “BEEP.”) We keep having the conversation about not standing on the chairs, (“Callum, Mommy said no standing...” “CHAYS!”) and yet every single day he has to stand on the chays. But I also sort of can't see it, because, for the most part, he seems so mellow as compared to other kids his age. My cousin said her boy was the most perfect angel until he turned 3. 3 and 4 were his really difficult years. I guess every kid is different.
But for now, we try to do fun stuff every day that I'm off from work, or at least get out of the house, even if it's just to the store. To Atlantis once every few weeks to look at the fish and feed the tur-tays. For walks around the neighborhood with 'Amo and 'Aku, and sometimes Aunt Chrissie, Gavin, Mason, Gram-Gram and Mom-mom. (I used to be Mom-mom, but now I'm Mommy and Meghan is Mom-mom.) Or on some of my days off we stay inside and put seeds into seeding cups (hollowed out orange halves.) It's been so stupid cold that we've been staying in a lot.
And I'm in such a rotten mood today that the fact that it's like 45 degrees is making me rage out. In fact, we have a freeze-watch tonight because apparently it's going back into the stupid 20s. Gross. This makes me want to punch something.
Well, enough bitching about the weather, I guess. Spring will get here one of these days. I hope it's in time for Callum's birthday, at least.
I kind of am letting the other manuscript settle for a while. I wrote it like crazy in November for NaNo, then I went nuts for a few months re-reading it and dicking with this and that. I think I might have said this before, but I changed so much that my second draft was more of a first draft than the first draft. And now I have a ton of other things I want to change, but I have to walk away from it and think for a bit.
I promised myself I would rock National Poetry Month this year, but then all this stuff happened with the manuscript requests and pitch wars and etc. that I spent all my free time on those, and my poems have really sucked a big one. I mean not a huge deal, i'm not doing anything but putting them on HitRECord or anything, so.
Oh, speaking of, a few of my ideas / written pieces were chosen for a possible hR radio show, too. I really hope that doesn't fall through!
Umm, I cut my own hair. Why do I keep doing that? I mean, I keep doing it because I get bored and I don't want to pay someone else to do it for me, but still, I always screw it up and end up walking around with stupid looking bangs. Oh well. I'm going to dye them blue or something.
Callum's second birthday is in a few weeks. This is such a mind-bender to me because I still can't believe I had him. Like, he's still so new to me. I've played specific video games for longer than he's been around so far, you know? And I keep dreading when he turns two. Everyone who has kids keeps telling me how your darling little baby changes overnight when they turn two. Literally, they say. One day you have a sweet, generous, caring, cuddly little baby, and then one day, within two weeks of their second birthday, they wake up one morning and they are the devil and you're sitting there going, “Where did my child go?”
And I can kind of see it, because I mean obviously Callum is a toddler, and he wants what he wants when he wants it, and he is definitely a button-pusher (when I tell him he's a button-pusher, he presses his finger on my face and goes, “BEEP.”) We keep having the conversation about not standing on the chairs, (“Callum, Mommy said no standing...” “CHAYS!”) and yet every single day he has to stand on the chays. But I also sort of can't see it, because, for the most part, he seems so mellow as compared to other kids his age. My cousin said her boy was the most perfect angel until he turned 3. 3 and 4 were his really difficult years. I guess every kid is different.
But for now, we try to do fun stuff every day that I'm off from work, or at least get out of the house, even if it's just to the store. To Atlantis once every few weeks to look at the fish and feed the tur-tays. For walks around the neighborhood with 'Amo and 'Aku, and sometimes Aunt Chrissie, Gavin, Mason, Gram-Gram and Mom-mom. (I used to be Mom-mom, but now I'm Mommy and Meghan is Mom-mom.) Or on some of my days off we stay inside and put seeds into seeding cups (hollowed out orange halves.) It's been so stupid cold that we've been staying in a lot.
And I'm in such a rotten mood today that the fact that it's like 45 degrees is making me rage out. In fact, we have a freeze-watch tonight because apparently it's going back into the stupid 20s. Gross. This makes me want to punch something.
Well, enough bitching about the weather, I guess. Spring will get here one of these days. I hope it's in time for Callum's birthday, at least.
