So I got new eyeglasses, new prescription, only the fitting is off, so I walked around kinda dizzy and unable to focus too well for about a week. Not such a good thing when one’s vocation is staring at a website or a book. I am back to the old pair, and they’re fixing the new ones. One hopes.

And today I was Sneezy McSneezyston, felled by some random springtime blooms or something. Awful.

But at least the Spring is coming–or came, not sure since it was close to 80 today, which is good, ’cause I was getting really tired of being cold. I hate being cold. Much more than I hate being hot (and I hate being hot, too).

I am loving Game of Thrones, and Justified, and strong Belgian-style beers; that’s about the extent of my free time these days. But I love what I do, I just also miss seeing my friends; the Super-Smart Lawyer, the Trilingual Crossword Fan, for example. I did see the Greco-Sicilian Doctor, the Picky Vegetarian and the Friend Who’s Such An Old Friend She Has No Nickname (as well as my highschool BFF, Anthony), but those were fleeting moments, filled with ‘I should be doing something else, right?’ anguish.

Boo. But Mother’s Day is coming, and The Indulgent Spouse says we can go see Thor, yay, for Mother’s Day!

Nobody touch me, I don’t wanna jinx anything. I actually feel like writing, which is remarkable. Maybe it’s because I am close to done with the novella, maybe because I re-read seven pages (out of seven) of a fun paranormal I started writing, maybe because I have so many lovely people cheering me on (not limited to: The Partner In Crime, the Delightful Phone Friend, the Materialistic Buddhist and the Champion Agent).

Maybe because it’s the first day of summer, and my son is graduating, and I have central air? It doesn’t take much, honestly.

Anyhoo. I hope to wrap up the novella later today, and then return to the half-finished Women’s Fiction. Then to the paranormal. Meanwhile, I wait for folks to get back to the Champion Agent regarding Mothering Heights.

More anon.

Last weekend, my friend who is such a long-standing friend that she HAS no nickname came to visit. While she was here, we drank some beers, some margaritas, saw the costume exhibit at the Met (swoon!), had a barbecue, watched Sherlock Holmes (MUCH better with margaritas, fyi), made fun of what people were wearing and laughed. A lot.

Today is back to reality day, only today I heard from the Champion Agent that the submission is likely to go out this week, which is cool.

I am very excited, so this week isn’t so rotten. Which is good. And today I’ve written maybe 500 words, which isn’t much, but is something.

Of course, I start this potentially epiphanous post with mere moments before I have to head to school to pick my son up from band practice–but:

A friend responded to a ‘woe is me–and so is my writing’ email by pointing out that the problems in my manuscript could be a result of my problems in real life. Which is to say, until I confront my demons, either in text or in person, I won’t be able to write a good story.

Gave me a lot to think about. And I think she’s right.

So I am planning on analyzing my issues EVEN MORE THAN I DO NOW (if possible) to write the best I can.

Or, at the very least, my characters will struggle through their problems, leaving me with a good ms.

Yesterday was lovely. I got up, worked on freelance, then headed back upstairs to take a nap. WIN1

Then I worked on my own writing, and finished this short Regency-set story I’ve been doing. WIN2

Then, McVane came up with the perfect anagram for my name: Tramp, Fang On Me. WIN3

The Picky Vegetarian, who’s been working like a dog WITH dogs (and cats) called, which was nice, but cell reception stinks so all I could hear was “Happy Birthday.” But still, it was nice. WIN3.1

After, I read more of The Way of Shadows by Brent Weeks, which the Faux Critique Partner recommended. WIN4

[Many, many happy birthday wishes from Twitter and Facebook, plus a special post from my P-I-C] WIN4.1

Then, STEAK! And family, and wine, and laughter. WIN5

A gift of tube mascara and Godiva chocolate. WIN6

After that? The Nocturnal Aunt and I watched North And South, and she adored it. WIN7

A really, really good day.

So normally this spot is a place for self-deprecation, not self-aggrandizement. But today that is all changed, because–

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!

I am 45, and pretty okay with that. A few weeks ago, we had a Dance Party Fiesta to celebrate the birthday, and my nearest and dearest came over to the house and celebrated. Here’s a picture of me with the Super-Smart Lawyer (the female one) and frequent commenter Hatrack (the male one).

The party was fabulous, with loads of dancing fun. The funniest part–which the Super-Smart Lawyer’s Awesome BF noticed, and made due fun of–was that every time a new song came on, I gushed, “Ooh! I love this song!” Well, duh, Megan, you assembled the entire playlist, and of course you love all the songs.

I am still in Minnesota, so the Thoughtful Spouse texted me last night, and then called me first thing to wish me a HB. He sent a card, too, which I got yesterday. Tonight the Minnesota relatives are bowing to my demands and we’re having steak for dinner. Yum! And mushrooms in wine sauce, double yum!

Okay. Tomorrow, back to insecurity and angst. Today, we’re having birthday cake.

So yesterday Liz Maverick, Alisa Kwitney and I got together for a) banh mi and b) writing. In the hours we were together, I wrote a short synopsis and tweaked another one for a new project. Yay. When the Freelancing Spouse got home, he had to edit some stuff for Marie Claire, so I started actually writing the short, short story. Got over 1000 words in, but not sure if the story has enough conflict. But the writing is fun.

And I’ve been dealing with household-type stuff, like a new cell phone contract and figuring out if the printer will work (it does now!) and such.

Boring. But–if anyone has strong opinions about cell phones/carriers, please let me know. Of course we are leaning towards iPhones, with me getting the cheaper one, the FS getting the monster.

Tonight I see the Greco-Sicilian Doctor, yay! It’s been too long. Will see all sorts of friends on Saturday for my 45th Dance Party Fiesta. You can bet that Stevie Wonder, Meat Beat Manifesto and Alice Smith will all be aurally represented.

The Fantastic Carolyn Jewel (aka the Faux Critique Partner) sent me this gorgeous photo of a hosta flower:

The Best Friend from Portland (OR, natch), the Picky Vegetarian, visited last week and this, and was telling me about how she has to restrain herself from talking about her cats all the time. She is a proud pet owner, obviously a vegetarian, who also does pet-sitting, so clearly she has a passion.

She has one Facebook friend who thinks it’s hysterical to post pictures of his sleeping dog throughout the day. Every day. For months.

Wow. That made my mouth hang open in shock. Because I would so defriend someone who did that.

Another Facebook person posts pix of her cats and writes her own LOLcats captions. Frequently. Because apparently there’s not enough for this person to do every day. Please.

And the PV, despite her ability to discuss her remarkable cats ad nauseam, wants to be a cat person with restraint. Which given what I know about most cat people (not Nastassja Kinski, btw, nor David Bowie. God, could Kinski have been any more gorgeous?!?) is nigh impossible, if not downright oxymoronic. She does, to her vast credit, only talk about her remarkable cats when they do something–remarkable. Which makes her, in my eyes, a remarkable woman, and not just because she loves me as much as I love her.

The Knicks Spouse and the Son were off to the game on Saturday, so of course I decided to head to a club event where I could dress up in some fabulous couture and drink way too much wine. Before we headed out, however, Liz Maverick and Leanna Hieber came over for last-minute garb adjustment and some photos:

And later, we all assembled for a smoochy photo.

I had a really good time, it was fun playing dress-up. My coat was one of my grandmother’s, which explains the exceedingly nipped-in waist (remove a rib, Megan? Sure!). At least I could get into it.