Shiny Happy People

I ran across this quote today, on some random Google search, just loved it and wanted to share:

The happiest people are those who think the most interesting thoughts. Those who decide to use leisure as a means of mental development, who love good music, good books, good pictures, good company, good conversation, are the happiest people in the world. And they are not only happy in themselves, they are the cause of happiness in others.

William Lyon Phelps

229790How freakin’ awesome is that?!!!

Wishing you a happy week with lots of interesting thoughts!


Lost in Translation

When I was in 9th grade, I loved nothing more than to write stories.  My best friend Laura and I amused ourselves during class by making up tall tales; each of us scribbling a few sentences (or adding an illustration) and passing to the other to continue.

Daily, we composed vast oeuvres in our spiral notebooks.

From these charettes sprang notable tomes, such as the “Further Adventures of Little White Duck,” and the never-to-be-forgotten “Continuing Saga of Corky’s Junebug.”  (This was an actual bug, by the way, and not a euphemism.)


Our anecdotes took on an international twist when we acquired a new friend, Ursula*, who transferred to our school mid-term from Frankfurt.  She was delighted to teach us her language, and we enthusiastically began to compose our yarns in our fledgling German (along with a little help from a German-American dictionary.) We were perhaps a little more exuberant than structurally correct, but our Duck (die kleine weiße Ente) and Junebug (der Käfer von Corky) novellas flourished in their new language.

Until one fateful day in Biology class.


I should preface this by telling you that we didn’t care much for Biology.  It was smelly and difficult and rumors of impending frog dissection were being spread by malicious upperclassmen.

The teacher, Mr. Green,* was terse and unsmiling.  Completely unable to make a connection with him or the subject, I poured myself into expanding my body of work.

Laura’s and my latest essay, Das Hässliche Kleine Mann (the Ugly Little Man) based on our somewhat subjective evaluation of Mr. Green,* was promising to be a masterpiece.

At some point, caught up in the story, I forgot to check before I passed, and openly handed my notebook across the aisle to Laura’s desk for her to add the next lines.

A shadow fell over us.

The notebook was snatched from my hand.

“Miss Ferguson.  Miss Roberts*.”


“Ah, an essay in German!” Mr. Green* sounded almost jubilant. “How wonderful!  Did you know I minored in German in college?”


We were dead.

Mr. Green* continued that he’d be quite happy to grade our little essay for grammar and vocabulary, right then and there, in lieu of a Biology quiz.


By paying attention in class and actually doing the assignments, I eventually recovered from the debilitating grade.

It put quite a damper, however, on my burgeoning career as a novelist.

(*All names have been changed to protect me from retaliation.)

It’s a Dead Man’s Party

I was struck by lighting, walkin’ down the street


I was hit by something last night in my sleep

It’s a dead man’s party, who could ask for more


Everybody’s comin’, leave your body at the door


Leave your body and soul at the door


Don’t run away it’s only me


Only me, only me


I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go


Walkin’ with a dead man, with a dead man


Waitin’ for an invitation to arrive

Walkin’ with a dead man, with a dead man…


lyrics courtesy of Oingo Boingo
Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

NaBloPoMo Day 23: What a “Who”-tenanny!

Today marks the 50th Anniversary of the Doctor.

Although I’m a huge science fiction geek and an inveterate Dragon Con’er, I actually didn’t stumble upon the deliciousness that is Dr. Who until about two years ago.

I’d heard of the show, of course, after all it’s been around for 50 years and I’ve seen the costumes at ‘Con, but it took a steady stream of mentions from the Bloggess to realize I just might “need a Doctor” myself.

image by

image by

I had a similar experience – it took maybe 3 shows to get me obsessed with the good Doctor and his companions and now I can’t think of another show I enjoy more, regardless the doctor incarnation.

IMAG2949According to BBC’s website, I’m not alone. Doctor Who has an estimated 77 million fans in just the UK, USA and Australia alone. Which now includes me and David, my loft-mate Twinkle and her bf David, my good friend Hil, and his friends Sean, Jessie, Tristan and Shelly, all of who who’ve been stoked all week to celebrate the 50th Anniversary show airing on Saturday, November 23rd.

doesn’t love a party! After a quick mental adjustment for day game vs. night game (turns out a 2:50 p.m. airing time in the US), David and I packed up some wine and the Tardis (ice bucket) and headed to Chez Hil for an early afternoon “Who”-tenanny.

Image courtesy of BBC America and Hil's Television

Image courtesy of BBC America and Hil’s Television



The Doctor will see you now.

The Doctor will see you now.

Counting Down!

Counting Down!

Yay!  David Tennant!!!

The first Tennant sighting!!!

Twinkle's banana chocolate chip Daleks

Twinkle’s banana chocolate chip Daleks

“The universe is big. It’s vast and complicated and ridiculous. And sometimes, very rarely, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles.”
— The Doctor, Season 5, Episode 12

NaBloPoMo Day 2: Captain Obvious and her Good Ship NaBloPoMo

NaBloPoMo_November_small_0Once again, tardy to the party.

I was super psyched yesterday to create my own response to NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month): NaBloWriMo (National Blog Writing Month). Unfortunately for my sense of accomplishment, someone much faster on the draw (and more discerning in their gerunds) figured this all out way back in 2006, when they founded NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month.

Okay, NaBloPoMo, you were there first, you win.

Eden Kennedy, founder of NaBloPoMo, recently posted her thoughts on the advantages of enrolling in NaBloPoMo: you establish the habit of writing every day, you get lots of practice and practice (in theory) makes you better; proportionally, the more bad writing you do, the more good writing you do; you are making a public commitment (which should strengthen your resolve) and you are joining a community of bloggers, which will not only expand your readership, but can add valuable ideas and support.

So by participating, regardless of what you call it, means I win, too.

Three cheers to being fashionably late.

NaBloPoMo Day 1:NaBloWriMo

Your welcome.
This morning, I signed up for NaNoWriMo, otherwise known as National Novel Writing Month.

From their website: “National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to creative writing.  On November 1, participants begin working towards the goal of writing a 50,000-word novel by 11:59 p.m. on November 30. Valuing enthusiasm, determination, and a deadline, NaNoWriMo is for anyone who has ever thought fleetingly about writing a novel.”

While I did decide this morning (somewhat fleetingly, but mostly somewhat buzzily over my first cup of coffee) to resurrect my amorphous novel, the Demon Bride of Peachtree Palace (first attempted during NaNoWriMo 2 years ago), I’ve also decided to make this a blog challenge as well, which I have dubbed  NaBloWriMo, or National Blog Writing Month.  I may have bitten off more than I can write, but we’ll see.  Look for me in the upcoming days and mock me mercilessly if I don’t write at least something here everyday.

And seriously, on rougher days, it might just be the word “something.”  It’s also NaChrisPartPlaMo, or National Christmas Party Planning Month at work, which we celebrate by fielding dozens of calls from companies with their panties in a twitch because they forgot to book their holiday event back in August and now they are desperate for a party site.

Good times, people.  Good times.

See you tomorrow!