I finished my book today. Sent it off to the publisher. Free at last! And I celebrated by getting illegal fajitas with illegal guacamole and illegal chips. All that was missing was an illegal Diet Coke! But there’s always this weekend…

I then topped off the memorable day by a shot to the butt. Because why let the fun stop with fajitas?

I will stop talking about shots eventually, but I’m still in the “I’m so proud for being able to administer self-inflicting pain” stage. Though I’m about ready to tattoo a bulls-eye on my bum. My aim is not so good…

So check out TitleTrakk.com HERE if you’d like to see a few authors’ take on Saint Valentine’s Day. I really like Creston Mape’s response, and frankly my own smarmy little quote just doesn’t even compare.

Also I have a new reviewer. It’s seventeen year old “KT” and I totally choked up at what she had to say about In Between. If it’s not too obnoxious to share, you can read it HERE. And I appreciate her proud mom for pointing it out to me.

Okay, have a great Valentine’s Day. Buy your sweetie some of those conversation hearts. Because nothing says I love you like heart shaped chalk. Yum.

It’s been an interesting week of a down-scaled diet. I dare you to look at this picture and NOT shed a tear.

That’s an entire trash bag of “no-no” foods. I practically chased the trash truck down the street as they carried it off. But I knew I had to let it go. Set it free.
Plus I have contraband snacks stashed throughout the house, so whatever.

I’m a total grazer. I’m used to eating every few hours. Love me some food. And since there’s a pretty short list of things I can eat right now, I’m drinking more water out of sheer boredom. Instead of opening my fridge and seeing the good stuff, this is the sad sight I face daily.

“Oh, I’m hungry. I’m going to go raid the fridge. Do I want water…or water?”

And since I drink all that water, I spend a lot more reflective time here.

If peeing were a sport, I would ready for the major leagues.

So last Friday night I saw Casting Crowns.

A friend got us free tickets on the floor. It was really great. But loud. As in two hours later you’re still deaf type of loud. That’s some good stuff.
This portion of a concert always makes me a little sad.

It’s “shine your cell phone” time. It used to be “wave your lighter” time. Not that I ever had a lighter. I wasn’t that cool. (No, smoking is not cool, but taking a lighter to a concert equaled cool.) I just don’t find myself caught up in a really good song and think, “You know what this moments needs? My cell phone!” But security really isn’t into lighters. Or spotlights. Or MagLites. Or those laser pointer thingies. Or flares. Pity.

Okay, well, I have a book to finish, American Idol to watch, and two different fronts to track on the Super Dopplar. And chips not to eat. And cheese to avoid. And popcorn to throw away…

So a few weeks ago God granted us a miracle in some sled-worthy snow. Schools for miles around were closed for two days in a row. (Some were closed today due to some light ice, but I can’t discuss that without crying.)

Anyway my friend Holly has the perfect area behind her house to sled.

You just have to be able to dodge a few of these.

And there were a few wild beasts. Like this one.

And snow affects us all in different ways. Ol’ Stormy gets out in the snow and feels the need to. . . poop. Seriously. Like every five minutes. What is that about?

“We all contribute to the snow day in our own ways.”

Yeah, lots of yellow snow to be had.
And you’re never too young to enjoy a day of sledding.

“Is anyone chaffed? I have some fabulous Boudreaux’s Butt Cream that works wonders…Highly recommended.”

“Oh, my. I can vouch for that.“

And speaking of burning sensations, there were a few accidents.
But that’s the risk we’re willing to take, you know? Actually, I’m grateful to this person for clearing out a few rocks. Because that would’ve hurt. And I would’ve let everyone know about it. I think the rock broke her kneecap, but in keeping with Snow Day Code, article 203b, she did not ask to be taken to the ER. We were burning daylight and had no time for that.

Chance of some ice tonight. I’m hoping for freezing temperatures!!!
Have a great week.

Oprah and I finally have something in common besides curly hair. It’s an amazingly fun thing called hypothyroidism. Today, after years of “what the heck is wrong with me?” I finally got my diagnosis. Turns out I’m not just naturally lazy. There’s a reason I long to take a nap at any given point of the day. I’m now excusably lazy! (And somehow this belongs on a t-shirt)

So today we got some unexpected snow and ice. Not much, just enough to mess up the morning commute. Normally that would thrill me and have me watching the news for closings, but today I HAD to get to this appointment. Had I known what was waiting for me two hours away, I might have stayed home.

I got three shots in the bootay. The first two I had to administer myself. That was camera worthy. (I’m not into pain.) The doctor showed me how it was done, got me set up, needle poised in my hand, and kept saying, “Okay, now. Jennifer, now’s good. STICK THE NEEDLE IN!!!” But when you’re about to violate your own butt cheek, these things take finesse and time. You can’t rush into it. I personally felt like I should’ve said a few words of comfort and bolstering to my back side before inflicting punishment, but Dr. C didn’t agree.

When it was time for the third shot the good doctor took over. She said there would be a little more “stinging.” Stinging? That woman lit my butt ON FIRE. She said, “If I started with that one, nobody would stick around for the other two.” Um, ya THINK? So like eight hours later I’m still not quite right. I have a derrière disability. A gluteus maximum gimping. I don’t know what was in that last shot, besides liquid lightning, but it could be used to torture the truth out of criminals.

And if you’re one of my students reading this and you even dare to mention butt shots to me, I will wipe out your grade, do you hear me??? (Just kidding, parents. I would never do that. That’s threatening a students. That’s wrong.) (Seriously kids, zero tolerance. I have access to our grade server. I can make sure your graduation is light years away.)

Other fun effects of today’s appointment include a new diet I must follow for at least a month. Chocolate is not allowed. WHAT THE HECK??? Is life even worth living? Is there a thyroid transplant wait list so a girl can get some chocolate? And I can’t eat wheat supposedly for like ever. That’s like telling me I’m allowed to only breathe through one nostril. Nearly impossible! So I’ll be eating figs and lettuce and cardboard for the next few months. Should put me in a real fine mood. My first hour class eats Pop Tarts in front of me every morning. I have a feeling tomorrow am. I’m gonna turn into that witch from Little Mermaid on them. Totally hulk out and beg them for their icing crumbs.

After all this, you know what I need? A snow day.
And a box of Twinkies.