don’t judge me
Happy Independence Day!
I WANT THIS
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Happy 4th of July
Hope you guys have big fun planned. I’ll be at Birdrunner’s with the boys, hanging out with Stinkydog and the newest (human) addition to her litter. Can’t wait.
Today I have a hair appointment and a pedicure planned. Haven’t decided on the toe color yet. Am thinking something funky and fun. Maybe a Red/White/Blue combo.
Maybe I’ll just do purple.
Or red. Bright, bright red.
I dunno. I really liked my Lizard Green toes and got loads of compliments on them. But it’s time to change things up.
Suggestions?
To my American friends, happy holiday.
To my Canadian friends, happy belated Canada day.
Party on, Wayne.
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SPAM: it’s not just for breakfast anymore
Okay, it was never for breakfast at my house. It is a canned meat-like product and it is not something I would eat. Not even diced and thrown into an omelet.
Spam is also junk email.
For some reason, this morning it struck me as funny that junk email was called Spam and I wondered why. So I did a little digging. Maybe this is public knowledge and I’ve just been out of the loop, but now I know.
It seems that the term Spam originated from one of my favorite Monty Python skits. You know, the Spam skit where the vikings sing “spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, Wonderful spam!” over and over again? Yes, well, apparently the meaning derived from that.
Something that keeps repeating and repeating to great annoyance.
For the story on how the term originated, go here.
What brought this on today? My new favorite Spam subject line.
“Read this or you’re gay.”
That’s right. If I didn’t read the email, I would turn gay. What’s a girl like me to do? Oh the dilemma.
I hit delete. So now what?
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who the hell is they?
You know the ‘they’ from “You know what they say…”
‘They’ sure say a lot.
Let’s discuss.
Things ‘they’ say:
Out of sight out of mind.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
So which is it? Does anyone know? Apparently ‘they’ don’t.
Life’s a bitch.
Life’s a bowl of cherries.
Do ‘they’ just cover their ass with these cliches? How does this work?
Stick it in your ear.
Stick it where they son don’t shine.
Apparently ‘they’ have a thing about sticking it but ‘they’ can’t make up their mind where.
Money is the root of all evil.
Money makes the world go around.
Money can’t buy you happiness.
Okay, so if money is the root of all evil, then it stands to reason that money can’t buy you happiness. However, if money makes the world go around, then one would reason that it could also buy you happiness and that it is NOT the root of all evil. Again, ‘they’ confuse me.
Laughter is good for the soul.
‘They’ definitely got this one right.
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a walk to remember (NOT the book)
Last night I tortured forced Rader to go to the Big Dam(n) Bridge and walk with me. You’d a thought I was plucking his toenails off with tweezers. It was “THE WORST THING EVER.” As a matter of fact, after the 45 minutes (remember I usually walk an hour plus–I cut it short just for his whiny butt) we got into the car and he immediately sent me a text message.
That sucked.
Good to know, but too bad.
Anyway, while I was walking and he was whining, we passed a section of woods that nearly knocked me over with memories. I smelled wild grapes and muscadines. (BTW, my spell check doesn’t recognize the word muscadine. WTF?)
Growing up, we had a small orchard with green apple, plum, peach, pear and loads of pecan trees. And we also had wild grapes growing on the fence of our property. My neighbors grew muscadines.
The smell of that wild fruit yesterday took me back to my childhood immediately. I know memories and smell are strongly connected, but it still shocks me when I’m damn near catapulted back into the 80s.
I used to walk along the fence and pluck the honeysuckle that grew among the grapes. (fresh honeysuckle is still one of my all time favorite smells) The grapes were NEVER any good, but every year I would hope they would be. I don’t know how many sour grapes I ate trying to find the one sweet wonder. It never happened, but I never stopped trying.
(Okay, I take that back, I did finally stop trying when I was attacked by a Blue Jay. That stupid bugger wanted me dead. I had to run across 5 acres of land to escape the blue devil. Totally uncool.)
Had my first sip of homemade muscadine wine when I was a teenager. It was so sweet. And my neighbors made muscadine jelly which was fantastic. After the Blue Jay incident, I would sneak over and sit beneath the neighbors’ muscadine vines and enjoy the smell because I missed my grapes.
Do you have any old memories attached to smell? Any recent ones?
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T-Minus 4 weeks
BITE ME! will be on the shelves 4 weeks from tomorrow.
Can you freaking believe it? I can’t.
It’s been a long time coming. I sold the book to HarperCollins in 2.5million years ago– January 2007. One thing about this business, every publisher moves at a different pace, and to the author, it always feels slow.
Explaining that I sold the book but it’s not on the shelves yet has become second nature to me. Kinda like saying hello. I’ve had people ask, “Are you sure you’re published?” And I would say, “I’ve sold the book, it will be published and on the shelves summer 2009.”
I can’t wait to celebrate. We’re having a huge party Sunday August 2nd. If you’re in Little Rock or can make it here, you’re cordially invited. Email me: tellmel@melissafrancis.net if you’re interested in details. I can’t believe I’ll be signing books soon. My very own book. The one I wrote. The one with my name on the cover. Yup. That one.
4 weeks from tomorrow, little Melissa McKenzie (now Francis) from Bryant, Arkansas, is going to have her first book available for purchase. Who’d a thunk it?
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Farrah, Friday, and Fun
Once my coffee kicks in, I’m going to clean this morning, then have lunch with writing pal Kait Nolan as she drives through town. Then I head to the lake to spend time with my parents and Rader. Ian has returned from his week-long trip in Dallas. I’ve missed him terribly, but he’s not going to the lake with us this weekend. At 15, he’s just too cool for that kinda thing.
In other news, I’m really sad about Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson, but I have to say, I’m really irritated at the media for spending so much time on MJ’s death. Farrah battled cancer for three years and did it with dignity and grace. Growing up, I didn’t know any girl who didn’t wanna be her, and I didn’t know any boy who didn’t wanna do her.
I stared at this poster every morning for years. I went blond, feathered my hair, and bought a red bathing suit. I never quite got there, but I wanted it.
Most people remember Farrah from Charlie’s Angels, but I remember her from Logan’s Run. As a matter of fact, I had a Logan’s Run beach towel.
RIP Farrah. I’ll always be a fan.
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wildlife walkabout
Last night I went for a walk with @jennchristman down by the river. Instead of just walking back and forth on the Big Dam(n)Bridge, we kept going into Burns Park along the banks of the Arkansas River. It was a gorgeous night (see sunset pic for proof) and even though it was a little humid, it wasn’t unbearable. Besides, humidity is good for the skin. Why do you think I look so hot at 40?
As we were solving the world’s problems (for example: Rachel Ray needs a new stylist in a major way, Rock of Love was totally underrated, and we should all talk like Caroline from Real Housewives of NJ) there was a rustling in the high grass over to our left.
It was a tiny little thing rustling around and at first I thought it was a puppy. As I approached the little animal, I quickly saw the shock of white down the middle of its black fur. No, this was not Rover, it was Pepe Le Pew.
“Back away slowly from the skunk. I don’t wanna take a tomato juice bath tonight.”
“Seriously? Tomato juice?”
“Yeah. I think. Or lemon. Or maybe it’s vinegar. I dunno. I just don’t wanna bathe in whatever it is you have to. Skunk Funk is not a fragrance I’m willing to try.”
“I’ve never seen one live. I mean seriously, they’re all dead and stinking up the roadways.”
“I’ve never seen one not in a zoo.”
After 45 minutes, we turn around and go back toward the bridge. Our conversation has moved toward more serious topics like the pros and cons of saving some calories for booze instead of cutting out booze all together, Jazzercise is still alive and kicking, weight training and the hot dudes who offer to ‘spot you,’ and how to get rid of the world of all mean people. (We have a plan, so if you’re mean, get ready.)
That’s when the attack started. Out of nowhere these stupid giant horseflies started dive-bombing us. One hit me in the ear and I’m pretty sure I have hearing loss as a result. They quickly left me alone though and started chasing Jenn. I guess she smells sweeter than me because they were all about her. There were three of them, all were huge, at least an inch long, and landing on her back and buzzing her head. Finally I told her to hand me her awesome ROCK OF LOVE baseball hat and let me swat them. I defended her honor. I was her white knight. I’m officially the butch in our friendship. That’s okay with me. I’m the cutest butch ever.
“I hate nature.”
“No you don’t.”
“I totally hate nature.”
“Shut up.”
“Tell me you hate nature, too.”
“Nope. I love it. I could pitch a tent right here, and pee in the woods.”
“You totally are the butch.”
About five minutes later, there was another rustling and a group of folks was gathered around a tree. I thought maybe it was an Opossum but no. It was an armadillo.
“I really hate nature.”
“Seriously! We’ve seen two animals LIVE that
usually we only see dead. That’s awesome.”“Nature sucks.”
Our walk was an hour and a half long and apparently sponsored by Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.<–and if you don’t get that reference, I’m too old or you’re too young. I’m going with the latter.
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ack!
I didn’t blog yesterday! WTF, dude? My only excuse is that I didn’t get much sleep the night before and just flat out forgot. My bad.
I really wish I had something enlightened to share with you today, or a good story, but not really.
This week is British Soccer camp week. Those of you who are regular readers of my blog, know what a fan of British Soccer Camp I am… For the 1st time in 4 years we’re not hosting any coaches–which is a good thing, because when we do host, I tend to NEVER sleep. The lads are always entertaining. (and very easy on the eyes)
I hit the gym and the track yesterday for the first time in a few weeks. Did circuit room, abs, and walked 4 miles in about 45 minutes. I’m sore today. Feeling it big time. But I’m glad I went. I’m gonna blog over at Fat Chicks Running this afternoon about my time on the walking track. It’s pretty funny. I’m apparently a ‘rule breaker.’ I know–you’re shocked!
Ian has been in Dallas for a week watching his cousin play some kick ass soccer in a National Tournament. Taylor’s team is now in the finals. Am hoping to get some pics soon to post for ya soon.
That’s about all that’s going on here. Nothing witty or snappy today. I’m just too tired. Maybe I’ll be able to muster up funny for tomorrow.
Stay tuned.
What’s going on this week with you guys?
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totally manic
I’m at Ficitonistas this morning talking about Dares.
Last night, my friend Jen and I met up with some friends from high school who traveled from 3 corners of the world (Seattle, Boston, New Zealand) just to visit us. (okay, maybe not ONLY to visit us, but whatever) We had a great time, and it was hard to let it go and say goodbye.
I feel very lucky these guys are still in my life after all these years.
Laughter is truly good for the soul. After last night, my soul is set.
Bitchin' Fiction: Musings by author Melissa McKenzie / Melissa Francis 
