professional courtesy

You know, a little courtesy goes a long way.

If you're sending me a professional email? Treat me like a human being. A salutation, a 'hey I have a quick question"... these things go a lot farther with making me want to help you than a terse 'you suck because bye'

Even if you think I'm trying to fuck you, which if you know anything about me you know I'm mistake prone and absent minded but not an asshole, you can give me the benefit of the doubt, just like I do you, even if you've done nothing but bad-mouth me. You can also give me the benefit of acting like this is a job, and treating me like you would anyone at your day job...

Of course, maybe you ARE treating me like you do everyone. If that's the case? I feel sorry for the people who have to deal with you more than I do

a meme

Put your iPod or other music player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the NEXT button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
4. Tag friends who might enjoy doing this as well as the person you got this from.

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY?" YOU SAY-

One Foot in Front of the Other – George Strait

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?

Here Comes Your Man – The Pixies

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?

Mustang Burn – Jack Ingram

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?

I Need You – Tim McGraw

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?

There is a God – Trent Willmon

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?

Cheapest Motel – Tracy Byrd

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN?
Drunker than Me – Trent Tomlinson

WHAT IS 2+2?
Whiskey and You – Tim McGraw

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?

He Must Have Really Hurt You Bad – George Strait

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?

All You Ever Do is Bring Me Down

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP??
How 'Bout them Cowgirls? George Strait

Denver

So. We get to Denver. As predicted, it's 60 degrees and sunny. Lovely. We hit the rodeo, did some shopping at the stock show (waves to Jack, whose art we adore) and found a neat Mexican place to have supper. (For those who might not know, wheat allergies/celiacs is fairly easy to accommodate at Mexican places, as corn tortillas generally don't have wheat flour in them).

The next day, we decided to go to lunch, then go early to the stock show. We get to Beau Jo's Pizza, which is a Colorado institution *and* they have gluten free pies, and there's white flakes gently drifting down from the sky...

Shawn looks at me, utterly offended, and says, "Lorna. There is SNOW falling from the sky. What is UP with that?"

Cackles. I've only been away from Colorado for 3 years, so this was not surprising to me. The 30 year Texan? Rejects snow as a reality.

By the time our three day stint at ALA was over, we had 7 inches on the ground, and a certain Texan did not want to go outside

We also ate at a place called Panzano's, which had an entire GF menu, and gluten free crostini! Uhn.

ALA went well, and this time around we have a plan for follow through. We have a ton of places wanting review copies, which will be expensive, but it's the only way to make Prizm viable, I think. We had some lovely invitations to go to the GLBT round table social, but it conflicted with our supper reservation, so we had to bow out. Next time, guys. I'll be putting a detailed con report up on the TQ and Prizm blogs at some point.

My dog? Pouted after I got home. For hours. Then I laid down on the couch and she got up on my legs and held me down. She also slept on me all night.

Lord

All in all, it was a decent trip, but man, 10 below zero? Is fucking cold

ponderings

I've been down a bit lately. For various reasons. Hormones (this whole peri-menopause thing can go fuck itself), family things, doing royalties (which always depresses me, because it reminds me what assholes people can be)

So I've been pondering. I know I've been trying to blog gratitude, but today is a day for things that make me go hmm...

The cowboy way? Used to be to police your own. Not fine someone 7500.00 for throwing a facemask or force someone to wear a helmet to ride roughstock. Whenever someone cites the cowboy code as a reason for doing ridiculous shit like that, especially someone I used to think of as the best all-around cowboy who ever lived? Well, it's the end of an era, and it makes me sad

I've also been pondering why meeting me and Shawn in person seems to be the kiss of death lately. We've always joked that once you meet us and see that we are what we are, you either love us or hate us, but that wasn't a challenge to the universe. It really wasn't. We weren't asking to turn people off just by existing. And no, this isn't a woe is me, no one loves me. I know I'm loved. This is a how can a good working relationship go bad just by meeting someone at a con?

Why is a venti soy latte so yummy?

Why is it that people with agendas seek us out? And what is it that Yankees can't understand about an explicit explanation of the way things happen? Why is that they feel the need to "help everyone else understand" by asking questions that are designed to be leading and insulting, thus proving that they're passive agressive pussies, who can't just come out and say what they think to your face?

Bah.

Right now I really need to concentrate on ALA, the Denver Stock show, and the thought of some gluten free pizza at Beau Jos

been a bit

sunk deep in work. Send yarn.

my joint pain is still bad, but things intestinal have improved. So, both yea and nay.

okay, off to the bedroom for a bit to edit

cramping like a mad thing

crazy hormonal

Christmas was grand, though, and I am starting to make inroads on cleaning things up, literally and figuratively

still knitting. this is a kind of triumph for me, as I am the queen of starting and not finishing things. I have managed to finish kind of an astonishing number of things.

Woo

tired now

night

it's that day again

yep. My mom's birthday. I still miss her every day.

This year I want to remember the good things.

She loved german chocolate cake and would pout if she didn't get the cherry

she always wanted to wait to decorate for Christmas until the 18th, just so she could have her birthday. Blair and I still feel a little guilty when we put stuff up earlier

I got her a flannel shirt every year. Blue and green, red and black, obscene green with yellow stripes. She loved her flannel shirts, and was actually tickled every year when she could break them out of the closet

she would sit and whittle for hours, More cigarette dangling out of her mouth, the dog at her feet. I still smile when I think of it

she loved ridiculous movies of the week, spy novels, horror books and Twinkies

she could take a piece of wood and know what it wanted to be, then carve it into that thing

she told stories with love, the same way every time, no extra embellishment. she was very much an oral historian, and I miss her voice and her face

I love you mom. Happy birthday