Odd Moments

Well, to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak:

First, my secret. Starting next year, I am giving serious consideration to attempting to write a diet-book. Lifestyle change memoir.

Actually, technically, Thomas and I will be writing it together. Having read several diet-books lifestyle change memoirs is that they don't cover what Thomas and I have been doing, which is to say, doing it together. The ones I've read are either written by single people (not that there's anything WRONG with being single) or by women who have to deal with the stereotypical "problem husband" who has to be tricked into eating healthy, or who insists on eating a separate meal. The other ones I've looked into, but not bought, that were written by men tend to be instruction manuals, with full (or psuedo) scientific backing.

Now, I know Thomas and I are not unique in our experiences as a dieting couple embarking on a lifestyle change. There are at least three other husband-wife teams that attend our Monday meeting. Even so, I think we have something to say, in a unique voice, that may not have yet been said in this multi-billion dollar industry. If nothing else, I think it will be good for us to solidify our experiences, even if I can't find an agent interested in publishing it.

So, that's my idea, and a tentative working title is A Couple of Losers.

On to other new business; (How's that for a transitional sentence. Yeah, it sucks, I know.)

As some of you know, and some of you don't, I do like to write. Over the last... eh, ten years, maybe? I've co-written one and 2/3 novels, and written one solo novel. The editing process is... still progressing. If you can call "having the best intentions to get back to this someday" progress. Having a child can be exceptionally disruptive, especially as they get just independent enough to get into massive amounts of trouble, but resent being watched over with hawk-like intensity. (Thus, there's crayon all over the back of Darcy's bedroom door...)

On the other hand, it's just an excuse. I find time to do other things, so it's simply a matter of finding the time to write.

To that end, I've decided to jump off the freaking deep end. Unofficially, of course.

I'm going to do NaNoWriMo this year. If you're unfamiliar, click the link and go read Wiki's take on it. I'd point you at their official site, however, at this time of year (which is to say, the month in which NaNoWriMo is held) getting to the site is a... hit or miss proposition. Google it yourself, if you're really curious.

In any case, I'm attempting this month to shuck out three pages of writing every day.

Yeah, I'm crazy. Did you even have to ask?

No, I'm not trying to write A Couple of Losers as a NaNoWriMo project. Instead, I dug up a cyberpunk/sci-fi idea I had about 18 months ago, but didn't really make any progress on. So far, I've put out about 8,400 words in three days, which is a hell of a good start.

(Yes, you will from time to time, get updates on this project here. If you don't care about it, just feel free to skip those entries. Yes, writing 1,666 words a day for a project may interfer with regular updates to this blog. Sorry. While everything is about structuring my time, there is still a hard and fast rule of only 24-hours in one day.)

(Further aside; if you are really interested in reading what I'm writing, shoot me an email; tisfan at gmail dot com and I'll see what I can do about keeping you posted, provided you're not going to be a jerk and try to steal my idea or post it to the interweb or anything like that. Why you'd want to is beyond me. NaNoWriMo focuses more on quantity of words rather than quality, so for the sake of getting words on the page, I'm not really focusing on character voice at all. I can go back and edit that later. Theoretically.)

Next order of business:

Weird moment.

I went to a Halloween party this weekend hosted by a friend I haven't seen since March.

I don't do a very good job of judging people's size. My general knowledge tends to go along this way: Bigger than me. About me-sized. Smaller than me. LOTS smaller than me.

Anyway, my friend Darcy (yes, that does get confusing...) used to be firmly in the Smaller than Me sized. In fact, she was Lots Smaller than Me. Not any more. Honestly, I couldn't tell you if she's gained weight, but she's no longer Lots Smaller. She's not even About me-sized.

It was a very strange moment for me, at that Halloween party. I'm used to being one of the largest ladies in the room. (I wish I didn't play that game, but damn it, I do. I don't feel really good about myself that I play the comparison game... I feel like I'm buying into the pecking order that I fought against so much, but I still can't help doing the drift around the room, counting and evaluating. ) This time, I wasn't the largest lady in the room. In further fact, unless you count my Darcy (who is five years old and still wearing 3T pants!) in the list, I was the same size or smaller than every other woman in the room. Thomas was well and away the thinnest man.

It was... an odd moment.

Shhhhhhhh!

You know what they say about a secret... three men can keep one, if two of them are dead...

I had to tell someone, but these kittens got to me before I got to the blog. So, for now, I'm going to keep this under wraps. But, keep checking back...

(Yes, Chris, I know. I'm annoying you on purpose!)

Seriously, I'm a little too sick today to give the topic/idea/plot/nefarious plan much in the way of justice. (Can a nefarious plan get justice? Wouldn't it get INjustice?) Anyway....

I do actually want to talk about this plan, but it'll have to wait until I'm feeling better. And I have some more time to flesh it out.

In the meanwhile; Weigh in was good yesterday. Down another pound! Woot. Getting close to ditching the 160s forever and ever, amen. (Hello Mr. Travis, where did you come from and why did you earwig me with that song?)

On the other hand, the meeting topic sucketh.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm all about food presentation. The better food looks like it's going to taste, the better it tastes.

However... when Kevin and I moved into this tiny apartment from a 1500 sq foot 3-bedroom place, we had to make some choices. Library, or child's bedroom? Throw these things out, or not be able to walk? Computer desks or... dining room table? My daughter has never sat down with us for a family dinner. We do not OWN a dining room table anymore. Sometimes we all sit around the TV, but mostly it's Darcy at the coffee table, and Thomas and I eat at our computer desks (yes, my keyboard is gross. So sue me.)

All my good china (and I do have some, it's quite lovely) is packed up in boxes. I haven't seen it in four years. We don't have the space in our kitchen to store it. Nor, without a table, would I want to use it.

I feel obscurely guilty about this situation.

Next up: Plates! You shouldn't have red plates. Red apparently makes you more hungry.

Oh, fuck darn. My plates are red. And black.

You shouldn't eat while watching TV. Or playing the computer. Or reading a book. Or or or.

According to last night's meeting, I'm doing everything all wrong.

Well.

Look at the pictures in the entry below.

What do you think?