I was home from tour for Thanksgiving – I head back out on the road again TOMORROW for the last leg. If you live in any of these places left on tour, please come on out! ALSO If you WON Virtual Book Tour, please send me a snail addy or whatever I need to get it to you. I have about half the addresses I need. Both prints and half the MoM copies shipped. NO EARRINGS as of yet, and still half the MoM copies are on my dining room table, waiting to knwo where to go.
Here is a snapshot of my break.
I get off a plane and stagger home, smelling like airport. I drift asleep twice while bathing. I have a local event about 2 hours away, and I am fresh off a plane, blind with tired and SUPER punchy. It is storming like WHOA. I am scared I might fall asleep FOR REAL, so I start streaming some cheesy nighttime soapy show about vampires off the internet as I flop on the sofa with my feet in Scott’s lap. We watch silently together, me engrossed, Scott impassive.
Improbably Gorgeous Lady with Heaving Bosoms: But this can never be! For I am betrothed to Jonathan!
Improbably Gorgeous Man who Cannot Act, God Bless Him: Jonathan need never know. This thing between us, it is real!
*She stares with naked longing at Man Who Can’t Act, who stares back, blank as printer paper*
Improbably Gorgeous Lady with Heaving Bosoms: No! No! It is wrong.
Scott, in a perfect, intonation free parody of Improbably Gorgeous Man who Cannot Act: Maybe we could just make out a little. And touch each other in our bathing suit areas.
I laugh and laugh until I fall off the sofa. I am CHOKING and dying of laugh. I can’t BREATHE. Scott stares down at me calmly.
Scott: I’m driving you.
So he drives me. We are in the car, and the storm rages ON, CRAZY driving rain and thunderous thunders. My cell rings. It is my friend Alison. I answer and we start chatting, but then the traffic and raging storm sounds register.
Alison: WAIT! WAIT! Are you DRIVING in this mess and talking on the phone like a crazy person?
Me: Oh, no no. Scott is driving me. I was so punchy and giggley he didn’t want me to operate machinery. He was pretty sure I would miss my turn, accidentally cross into Florida, drive into the ocean, and die.
Alison: That sounds about right. You know, when I try to imagine you before Scott, like, what your life looked like… How did you…not die? I cannot imagine it. Seriously.
Me: I was exactly like a Roomba. I would trundle around in loops until I crashed into a wall, and then I would turn and careen off a different way.
Alison: Sounds about right.
Scott: You were nothing like a Roomba.
Me: Yes, I WAS! I was EXACTLY like a Roomba.
Scott: *sadly, with infinite kindness* Baby. I love you. But Roombas clean things.
Then I laughed so hard we literally had to pull off the highway so I could go to the bathroom.
It’s funny because it’s TRUE.
I am much more rested now, and READY FOR ROUND TWO. Oh yeah. Ready to run out into the country and ask you all… What major household cleaning appliance would YOU be, assuming the appliance did not actually have to clean things? (Okay, I may still be a TINY bit punchy.)