Randomness

I colored my hair on Monday. It looks exactly the same.

Actually, I think it's a little more golden than the non-color it was before, but no one else can tell a difference. I guess that's okay. It's what I get for using a wash-out color instead of a permanent one. I'm scared I'll screw it up and be stuck with it for months.

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I loved Supernatural last night. Okay, this makes three shows in a row where the guys didn't actually solve anything. (Demon virus: everyone disappeared. Ava: Gone [though they did get Gordon, which was the main plot of that episode]. Haunted hotel: Spirit remains and everyone runs away.) I am trying not to be dissatisfied by that. It's different, changes the usual "formula" of the show, and makes the boys not only human, but vulnerable: they can't save everyone, they don't know everything. And it's probably leading up to something really big.

But the episode plots have never been the reason the show's so good, anyway. There were plenty of funny lines last night:

"Antiquers?"

"You're pretty butch, maybe they think you're overcompensating."

"You're bossy. And short." *sniggers*

Sam's an adorable drunk, even if getting him there was a bit of an abrupt transition. I kind of hate him for making Dean promise what he did, but I can see his side of it, too. He can't stand the idea of what he might (but never will) become. And it makes sense that he's completely driven to save people.

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There is too much hotness on TV now. I watched Smallville, which was loaded with meat (Oliver, Victor, AC, and Clark all side by side? *thud* Even Bart, overly slim and kinda short, isn't bad to look at). They had an unusual angle shot of Oliver getting his cell phone out of his rear pocket, and the camera was close up on his side with just a chunk of ab visible, and the waistband of his jeans and boxers. I grunted. I couldn't help it. I don't think Jim heard me, luckily. I couldn't help commenting later, though, on all the buff bods.

And then Supernatural came on. I've always been on the fence between the two guys but leaning heavily toward Dean. But I swear, Sam gets bigger and hunkier every week. He's got to stop that. My heart can't take it. Then it leads to my husband asking me which one I'd do, and instead of saying "both" like I want to, I say, "You're the only guy for me, honey" and he calls me a sweet liar.

This stuff is not good for my marriage.

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My sister-in-law loves me. She works for an apparently very cool store called Secret Sneaker. She and my father-in-law have been trying to get us there for a while, but she works hours that haven't always been convenient, at a distance that is almost never convenient. For Christmas she gave us NFL face paint in our respective team colors and football hot chocolate that they sold in the store.

But I digress. For Christmas she also gave my mother-in-law spa socks. I raved about them so much she sent me my own pair yesterday. They are the softest socks I have ever felt, and they're infused with aloe. I never want to take them off.

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This weekend is the AFC Championship game, and the New England Patriots are once again battling the Indianapolis Colts. This rivalry goes all the way back to our first SuperBowl trip in 2001-2002. Since then the Colts have beaten us twice in the regular season. But they can't beat us in the post-season. So it makes for a great media story.

Not that there isn't other fodder for the media to chew over all week. Adam Vinatieri, the kicker for the Colts, spent the previous 10 seasons winning playoff and SuperBowl games for the Patriots. This year we have a rookie kicker who last week kicked the Pats' longest post-season field goal--longer than any Vinatieri ever kicked.

Adam who?

In addition to that matchup the media is no doubt flogging ad nauseum, there is the whole celebration kerfuffle from last week. When we went up in score with three seconds left, the team ran onto the field in joy. That's fine. Some players apparently (I have found no video footage of the alleged actions) stomped on the Chargers logo, made a choke sign toward the Chargers sidelines, and mocked the dance Shawne Merriman does whenever he makes a sack.

Some call that behavior classless. I doubt it would have been discussed much, if at all, if it hadn't been the Patriots, who have epitomized "class" since that first SuperBowl run. The part that bothers me is stomping on the logo. The choke sign--well, they did choke. And if Merriman is going to be an ass every time he does his job properly, he deserves to be mocked. But I can't help but feel there was something that precipitated the behavior. These aren't guys who do stuff like that without being provoked. They shouldn't do it anyway, but sometimes it's hard to be the bigger person.

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I hurt my back yesterday, and the only thing I was doing that might have caused it was DDRE. For those who don't have a Playstation and two kids, that is Dance Dance Revolution Extreme, where you have a mat on the floor and have to step on arrows in the pattern shown on the screen, while dance music plays.

It's really good exercise, especially when you do poorly and are determined to not get "boos" (for missing the timing on the steps) or to get an "A" (grade at the end of the song), and redo the song over and over until you succeed.

Some might think it's cool that I hurt my back doing something so un-36-year-old-like, but it was in Training Mode. So that's kind of pathetic.

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I spent several minutes this morning uploading new text for my WIP from my Neo, processing my word count for two tracker spreadsheets and the word meter on my Blogger blog, and marking my calendar with yesterday's productivity.

It occurred to me that all of that takes so much time and effort, wouldn't I be better served not doing it, and just focusing on the writing itself? By the same token, shouldn't I stop working on this blog post, delete my LJ friends list and all the other blogs I read from my favorites folder, unsubscribe from writer e-mail loops, and stop volunteering to judge contests?

My immediate answer was no. The first stuff may take a few minutes of my time, but it helps keep me focused. Knowing how much I've done and how much I have left to do, watching that word meter grow every day--that stuff is like the rails that go under the train. It's important.

So is the rest of it. Being a writer isn't just about putting words on the page or screen. It's about observing and participating in life. The most important part of any story is the relationships, and how can someone write about them without having any? I'm a commercial writer, so knowing what is going on out there is vital. So is improving my skill, which critiquing and judging are great for.

The writing isn't really suffering from lack of time at the moment, so I'm going to stop worrying about trimming it.

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Speaking of writing...

I was notified the other day that my anthology, Indulgence, is paired with Megan Hart's newest book, Dirty. That is so cool! I'm not sure how it happened, but I assume because someone bought both books (and I thank you!), Amazon thought it might be a good pairing. So if you go here, you can get both books with one-click convenience.

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I may be without Internet next week.

I'll give you a moment to recover from your shocked dismay on my behalf.

Jim's computer crashed Wednesday night and he is going to take it for repair, but since the Internet access is via the wireless network, which is on his computer, disconnecting it makes the whole network go dead.

I can't...I can't even contemplate the horror of being without my connection.

So that's where I'll stop. Everyone have a good weekend, and root for the Patriots!