No Long Runs

I'm at the Outer Banks this week and I'm ready to melt. One hundred plus degree temps the last two days and humidity so thick it feels like breathing through a mesh net. Fool that I am, I decided I was going to do a long run in this nonsense. I headed out the door aiming for 8 miles. Ten minutes in I decided six would be a more reasonable goal. I called it quits at 4 1/2, gasping for breath and ready to sell all my worldly possessions to anyone willing to offer me a sip of ice water.  This morning was a mere 89 degrees and it felt cool by comparison.

I'm hoping to get some writing done this week. I've brought a story with me I've been working on. I like my characters but I'm weak on plot. It helps if something actually happens in a story. Just a thought.

Meanwhile, I've got waves crashing outside my window, a boogie board waiting to be tested (pray for me), and gourmet goodies in the fridge.

Life is hot, but good.

What I Won't Blog About

Given my willingness to discuss body hair, finances, and a never-ending list of stupid/embarrassing things I have done and continue to do in life, you may think there is nothing I won't blog about. Au Contraire! Some mornings find me chugging decaf coffee and staring at the screen in a stupor, wishing I could write about what was going on in life but knowing there are boundaries.

Still, I thought it might be mildly entertaining to tell you what I can't/won't blog about... just so you know what you're missing. Here in no particular order then, are the untouchables. I won't blog about:

• Clients. There are so many times when a project has blown up or an interview has been weird or an editor insane that I have been dying to race to my blog and share the funny. But even if I don't use names and keep it general, there's always the chance the person I've just interviewed or my editor might check my blog and clue in that I'm talking about them.
• Family issues. I'll tell the lighthearted funny stuff, but my family reads this blog, so there's no dissing them. =) And while I would LOVE to offer you the dirt on Blair's family, I don't think he'd appreciate it. Therefore, I keep it nice...
• Personal issues between Blair and myself. Like last night in bed, we... (Ha. Did I scare you honey? Kidding!!!)
• Novels I may or may not write. I won't talk about creative writing because I'm still insecure in that area and I feel like talking about a novel I might be working on drains my mojo. (I've made the mistake of telling people about a book I want to write and have them look at me with zero enthusiasm and say, "Oh. That sounds nice." You try writing your bestseller after that reaction.)
• Projects being considered by agents/editors. So often I have a proposal in somewhere and I'm just dying to come here and pour out all my fears, hopes, woes. But what if the agent checks out this blog and decides, "Needy and neurotic. Pass." ? Nope, nope, nope. Can't do it.

Other than that, it's an open field. So watch what you say around me. I'm always scouting for blog material and unless I work for you, am married to you, or related to you in some way...

You're fair game.

Log Cabin Diaries - Snag #1

Although I haven't mentioned it in some time, plans are coming along for our cabin in the woods. For newcomers, my husband and I have decided that one home isn't enough and we still have too much proximity to  one another, hence the need for the second home.

Okay, there is the whole enjoying nature and escaping reality part (we're not telling ANYONE where the cabin is).  We bought 38 acres of woods about five years ago and have been dying to build on it. The site for our home overlooks a "mountain" at a state park and it's beautiful, peaceful, tranquil. (Assuming the ATV's don't show up. I'm sure there are considerate people who ride those things but frankly, I haven't run across them yet. Apparently as a group they feel NO TRESPASSING signs don't apply to them.)

But I digress. We have hit our first major snafoo in the project and it's a big one.  We selected our general contractor over a year ago. Kenny. We love Kenny. Super nice guy with years and years of contracting experience, plus he came recommended. He hasn't done log homes, but we all felt comfortable with his experience that he could handle it.

Except he called last night to say he felt he was getting into a project that was over his head, and so he is stepping aside. While we're extremely sad not to be working with him, I appreciate his backing out early in the process and not leaving us stranded later on or, even worse, sticking with it but not doing a good job.

The problem is that the bank needs detailed specifications on costs that must be provided by the general contractor and they need them yesterday.  So we're frantically looking for someone new who has an open space in their schedule NOW as the logs are supposed to be delivered in July.  All the good contractors usually have jobs planned a year in advance.

Blair is handling all of this. My stress is watching him stress.  I really want the log cabin but I have never, ever, wanted to build a home. Way too many decisions that will just fry my brain. So I'm taking a backseat, at least in the building/contractor process. I'd be just as happy to hand the reins over to someone and say, "Give me a call when it's finished, including the decorating." But I may have to become involved, at least to make some phone call inquiries.

Buckle up. Building the cabin this summer ought to be good for numerous blog entries.

Wal-Mart Doesn't Do Vanity Sizing...

Ah yes, now I remember why I pay large sums of money to shop at designer stores. It's so I can maintain the illusion that I'm a real size 6. Because people, let me tell you, the folks who make the Wal-Mart clothes can't be bothered with catering to our body-dwelling egos. They have no mercy.

We're going to the beach this month and since I haven't bought a swimsuit in, say 5 years, I figured I was due. Wal-Mart, I had noticed on our most recent grocery trip, had some cute mix and match tops and bottoms in swimwear. I had some spare time today, so I swung by.

And ended up sobbing on the dressing room floor. Well, okay, not sobbing... but I might have sniffled a time or two. Here's why.

I'm a medium girl. Tops, pants, shorts, shirts... bring me the medium. Nothing wrong with that. It's my niche.

So I grab some medium swimsuit tops and bottoms and head to the dressing room. Then head right back out for new sizes. Because I apparently need a LARGE for my ass and a SMALL for my top. Uh-huh. If that smiling little Wal-Mart face had bounced by I would have bashed him.

Whatever. It took me 30 years to get here, but I'm finally of the mature realization that it doesn't matter what size the tag says as long as the clothes fit and you feel good in them. And I feel charming in my large bottoms, so there.  It's just a shock after the Ann Taylor and Banana Republic vanity sizing lovefest where sales staff stand outside my door and coo, "Should I bring you the 4 to try on?" while they clear a path to the checkout counter for me. "Easily bruised self-esteem when it comes to beauty," should be tattooed on my forehead.

But hey--I got me one good price on a swimmin' suit. ;)