Love-Hate-Life

The hardest part of living on the road is there is so much interesting stuff going on at all times ~ except when it's deadly dull and there's not even anything on television. How do I blog about that? I mean, the crazy, toothless couple and their adult daughters (?) living in the corner rooms of the hotel/flophouse are great characters but even they get dull after a while.

The town where we're spending most of this summer is...curious. On the one hand, I hate it. It's tiny, it's boring, it's same old same old. On the other hand, it's 10 miles away from a really cool little town with funky energy and neat little shops. Plus, in our town itself, we've found Italian food, a great burger joint, Indian food and Chinese. And the best biscuit I've tasted outside of a personal kitchen. The movie theatre is large and comfy and tickets are less than eight bucks. Two cool bars and a couple neat coffee shops. Sounds as if it would be charming, which it is ~ and which it's not.

I've started getting up with Lithus in the mornings ~ or at least a little after him ~ so I'm up around 8:00 am for the first time since I had an office job. Still don't love mornings. Yet I am loving the time together before he goes to work. The other day we got to riffing on something and laughing until we had tears in our eyes. Another morning resulted in a dictionary.com search for the actual definition of the word "bit" and did bit imply small or could you have a large bit of something. (As an aside, this is an excellent example of why we married each other instead of other people ~ we both actually care about this shit) This morning was all about Afghanistan and should we still be in a war over there or not.

Saturday night we met up with a couple guys Lithus has known for years and years and years. One's from Australia. One's from New Zealand. Both are pilots. God, I love pilots. We laughed and drank and talked and debated. Solved some of the world's problems and ran screaming from others. Australians really do call their country Oz and say "mate." New Zealanders really do refer to themselves as Kiwis and hate being thought of as Australian.

My cover flats showed up with the copyedits for the new novel. The back cover write up is horrible. As Lithus put it, they didn't try very hard. The worst part is, however, that they got a whole lot of it wrong. Like the name of the town and the name of the heroine and the state the town is in...yeah. And my internet was down so I couldn't get my editor's phone number, let alone send her an email. Luckily, Crow is willing to be indispensible in all kinds of ways, including sending emails. The back cover will be fixed and all will be well. I just "probably shouldn't use the flats for promotion, what do you think?" Yeah, New York Editor, I think you're probably right.

So it's a brilliant, boring, fascinating time. More cookouts on the truck bed. More poker with the heli-crew. More afternoons, surfing the internet for something to do because dammit, I'm bored. More experiences that don't always make for good blogging but make for great life. I can live with this.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.