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thus ends nanowrimo. or does it?
12/01/2006 = 09:57 AM

And so, another NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) has made way to another NaHeMeGeMyFuHoCaOuBeFu25Mo (National Help Me Get My Fucking Holiday Cards Out Before the Fucking 25th Month).

I did not finish fifty thousand words in thirty days. My congratulations (and undying yet grudging admiration) to those of you who did.

Aside from taking breaks to watch a penguin crash my brother's wedding, cook a turkey, and deal with fifty million people who had a whole year to claim marketing funds but only realize they each have fifty million questions about the process the week of the deadline, I also managed to blog a bit.

Also, I chose this month to shove another nestling out of the coop, hoping it won't fly back home with a note tied to its talon that says it's quite good, but not quite what they need right now, and they hope I'll keep them in mind next time I lay an egg.

I'm frankly surprised that I managed to write anything towards NaNoWriMo, let alone passing the halfway mark without getting bored with my concept, frustrated with the process, or homicidal about my characters.

So the month may be done, but I'm not.

You may say I'm a NaNoWriMo loser, but at least I tried, which is more than I can say for myself in past years, when I refused even to sign up because I knew I'd fail.

Anyway, I vastly preferred NaNoWriMo to the easier version, NaBloPoMo, because, like having a mortgage versus paying rent, NaNoWriMo's harder, but the end product is so much more useful and belongs, free and clear, to me, to do with as I please.

Whereas NaBloPoMo means you do nearly the same amount of work and you're still at the mercy of your landlord (or your blog host, depending on how far you want to carry the metaphor) when all's said and done.

I wrote. I have written. I write. I will write some more.

I have lots of vacation days to use or lose, and I am using one.

Today, I'm making NaHeMeGeMyFuHoCaOuBeFu25Mo my bitch.

But first, I shall have a bagel.

I just found out that I am on someone's personal MILF list. I'm getting tons of hits from this.

For the record, I have never given birth.

If I'm not a Mom, more of an Everywoman, shouldn't I be on an ELF list instead?

Meh, who cares? I'm sort of flattered that someone younger than I am would L to F me.

Tomorrow is That Man of Mine's company holiday banquet.

For over a month now I have been asking him to find out the formality level of the function: namely, will my nice black business suit and pumps do, if I add pearls, or is this actually an full-out party where I can repurpose my ensemble from my brother's wedding?

The venue is of no help, as they host everything from corporate parties to white tie affairs.

Finally, today, I got a response from him ...

... telling me about the types of hors d'oeuvres, the salads, the fact that the buffet would have three entrée choices and pasta, and that there would be Italian pastries after dinner.

I replied to his email thusly:

"So, what you're saying is that my black suit is inappropriate, not because of any dress requirements, but because I might get powdered sugar on it during dessert?"

I'm still waiting for his reply. I believe he's genuinely baffled that I might care more about dressing properly for the occasion than I do about what's on the menu.

I'm just gonna say "fuck it" and wear the suit. If I turn out to be overdressed, all I have to do is shove the pearls in my purse and I'll be back down to semi-formal-business in a heartbeat.

As for the powdered sugar, well, you know me; I'm a sucker for the sfogliatelle and I'll take my chances.

Okay, stay warm and safe if you're in the snowy ickiness.

Also if you're D-Man, who's in that other hemisphere but had to ride his bike in a hailstorm the other day anyway. (What the hell kind of weird weather pattern is this, anyhow?)

And everybody send good vibes to Andy and his car, so he can get to and from all his weekend gigs in one piece.

Tags: NaNoWriMo, Andy Martello

drinking: coffee
watching: a thing about the KKK on the History Channel
tired of: hatred, intolerance, violence, and britney spears' naked nortybits