–Wow, Seth MacFarlane sucked last night.
–It made me sick to my stomach to see poor Christopher Plummer not only being linked to a movie he hated, but being linked via Nazi joke to a movie he hated.
–Adele was amazing
–Yesterday was a day of dog barf. I gave her Pepto to settle her stomach and this morning discovered a pile of vomit in my room with the Pepto tablet right in the middle. Which means either that her digestive tract is not working or she barfed it up yesterday shortly after I gave it to her and I just managed not to notice all day.
–What makes me feel old is when I read a book and two people are supposed to be attracted to each other even though one is a broody uncommunicative weirdo. I would LOVE to read a book about two broody uncommunicative weirdos falling in love. Or a book in which the broody uncommunicative weirdo starts opening up and thus the heroine begins to love him, instead of where the heroine begins to love him and thus he begins to open up. But I’m sure I found books like that wonderful when I was younger. All that “only I understand him!” junk.
–I have completed my major overhaul of Project X. It may insinuate that Ridley Wills II is a werewolf at the end. But I didn’t name him. I can’t decide if I will or not. But I’m proud of it.
–And I feel anxious about it. Like, okay, I’m writing at a level I’m proud of. But nothing is happening. Which isn’t true, but it’s so slow. Things are happening so slow. And what if I die?
–Ugh, see? This is why I need books about broody weirdos that aren’t just Beauty and the Beast retellings. I need stories in which the broody weirdo comes to realize that, even if she dies, it will be okay.