1. I'm sort of over Chuck. I know, I know, Chuck Bass is a legend, an icon, and probably one of the only legitimate reasons anyone is watching Gossip Girl, but he was a little too squinty on the season premier last night. Also, the writing wasn't quite as sharp. Honestly, I spent most of the episode resisting the urge to scream at Vanessa to brush her mother chucking hair.
2. We broke up with StatCounter. I'm not sure if it's a permanent break or the break you take right before you get married, but we definitely needed some time apart. We were spending way too much time obsessing over him. We didn't go crazy and delete the code or anything like that, but I did have my husband change the password to series of letters and numbers that we'd never be able to guess on our own. Today we're feeling strong, but I'm sure by tomorrow we'll be begging for the password and drowning ourselves in Edy's Slow Churned.
3. Stephen King still scares the shit out of me. I'm reading Just After Sunset and I can't put it down. I think the key to his stories is that they're not only scary at a superficial, I've-got-a-serial-killer-chasing-me-level, but they're also terrifying at a deeper, my-baby-just-died-of-SIDS-level. Bottom line, Stephen King is the master and reading his words make me want to be a better writer.
4. Unclaimed Baggage is good. Seriously. It's tell the truth Tuesday and we never lie on TTT. We're closing in on 30,000 words and getting ready to send the next chunk to our beta reading ninja. Very exciting!
5. Sometimes on a beautiful day, when the right song comes on the radio and I've got all the windows rolled down in my car, I remember exactly what it feels like to be 17-years-old. I remember being dizzy with with the knowledge that something new, something life changing could potentially happen every single day. I remember my biggest concern being whether or not my outfit made me look hot. I remember wondering if today would be the day the hot nerdy guy in my AP World History class would finally pass me a note. And sometimes, I remember everything so clearly that I forget that I've got a couple of car seats strapped into the back of my car and that this year there will be 31 candles on my birthday cake.
These moments are exactly why I love to write Young Adult books. Because deep down I'm still freaking out about that time the captain of the football team winked at me in the hallway and I'm still worrying about whether or not I'm going to get my French homework done in time.
How could we ever write anything else?