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I can't remember what I had for breakfast, but I can remember Jenny's phone number?

Good Times at GoodReads!

The Kitchen Shrink by Dee DeTarsio

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I had so much fun writing this, I had to give myself FIVE stars, count 'em, FIVE. (Bless me Father for I have sinned...It has been about a million years since my last confession, but if you're keeping track, I did say 14 Hail Mary's after posting this--is that the going rate for being obnoxious?)



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BFF!

Who is your BFF-Best Fictional Friend? 

BFF

I was so excited to have the chance to see this amazing painting by Botticelli, Primavera, which hangs in the Uffizi museum in Florence, Italy. (Although there was that little incident where my husband lost me at the Uffizi. I clearly said, "I'll wait right here for you," which he somehow interpreted as me saying: "I'm going to go down those three sets of stairs, through a museum shop, past the security guard and out the green door." All's well that ends well...and with a glass of vino!)

This significance of this painting is the central theme to the historical fiction novel, The Botticelli Secret by Marina Fiorato, and introduced me to one of my BFFs, Luciana Vetra. As much as I loved reading this book, I also lamented that I will never be able to write like that!

I'm also thoroughly entertained by Isabel Spellman (thanks Lisa Lutz!), all of the Walsh sisters (PLEASE friend me, Marian Keyes!) and I have a new BFF, India Black, (courtesy of the wonderful Carol Carr!).

Who's your BFF?

Sticks and Stones...

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words, labels and categories can make or break new authors...The Scent of Jade is keeping some pretty amazing company in the dream category of Women's Literary Fiction, on Amazon UK:

Now, if only Marian Keyes would friend me!

For Pete's Sake!

My friend's nephew, Pete, joined us for dinner last night. I was complaining about how much my husband loves salmon. "I hate salmon," I said. Pete smiled at me and told me I shouldn't say hate. I laughed, and agreed. The conversation turned to weather. "I hate to be cold."

From across the room, I glimpsed Pete as he turned his head, whispering, "We don't say that."

I had no idea how often Negative Nellie was inviting herself to my party--but thanks to Pete's gentle reminder, she is officially off the guest list.

Pete's got a big birthday coming up this summer: he'll be 4.

Thoughts of a Mad Hatter!

Thank you, Siobhan! I love Thoughts of a Mad Hatter!!

http://bit.ly/i255uS

Why Isn't There an App For That?

Etiquette is a way of dealing with something that shouldn't have happened as if it didn't.

I am not firing on all cylinders today. It's not my fault. It wasn't the Girl Scout cookies I had for breakfast, either. Was it the guy trying to have an orgasm on the treadmill next to me, for 29 minutes?  oh, oH, OHOHOHOH... People kept stopping to stare; I have no idea why I was the one embarrassed.

Was it the woman who gave her boobs a bath in the middle of the women's locker room? She was buck naked, bent over, sink stopped up and filled with water; splishing and splashing and rub-dub-a-dubbing away as I pretended that was completely normal, too.  I went about my lady business of, you know, applying lipstick and fluffing my hair, and got the heck out of there.

Or was it the lady who cut in front of me get her cup of coffee; obviously she's way more important than me.

Someone needs to develop an "Appropriate Response App"... (They could call it App-App.) I would buy that.

(And by the way, if your boobs are that smelly, might I recommend a SHOWER?)