Back in Black

It's ben a pretty busy few days, with the fantastic trip to Florida (where my computer died) and watching the Habs have their asses handed to them and then hand it right back to the Flyers. Lapierre talked the shit out of some unfortunate souls, and looked like a douchebag as he did it. Glorious.

I have a new MacBook Pro where I will now be blogging and NaNoWriMo-ing.

Little else has been going on. Fernando is thinking about leaving Liverpool apparently, World Cup is 21 days away, and the Champions League final is tomorrow. I predict an all-day drunken stupor.

What are some things that you guys are planning to do to get ready for NaNoWriMo? Any writing exercise ideas?

New Book!

Readers, I have been bitten by the rabid dog that is writing. Writing books, that is. After having penned two successful (in my mind) novels, the rabies has spread to all parts of my body. The hopes of ridding myself of this affliction are slim.

I want to start another novel, and at Manta's encouragement, I think that I will. The idea for my novel came to me last night, and I really like it. I want to see where things go.

It will be about a woman's relationship to Liverpool Football Club. About what being a fan means to her, the triumphs, the hearbreaks, and how it has completely taken over her life. Also, I think that she will fall in love with a Manchester United fan. Hilarity will ensue.

It will be very much in the vein of Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch. In fact, almost a copy, but told from a woman's perspective.

I can't wait to start!

Fernando is a Father!

I don't really blog anymore, but I thought that I should share the wonderful news with everyone that the real Fernando's wife Olalla has given birth today to a baby believed to be named Nora. I know it's weird, but I really want to see pictures of Fernando avec bubba. I guess I will have to wait.

That's all.

Also, I saw the Hangover today, and am in love with Bradley Cooper. Consider me a convert.

Second Novel Under My (White) Belt!

Someone's hand is a little too close for my liking...

Like two scoops of butter pecan ice cream. Someone get me a bowl and a spoon immediately!

The excitement of completing my sophomore effort has mostly worn off, but I thought that I would take the time to share a few thoughts with you all about how amazing this year's NaNoWriMo has been.

I first want to thank everyone for their support, compliments, suggestions, encouragement, and balls-to-the-wall awesomeness. Seriously, couldn't have done it without all of you. I know that I complained a lot during this campaign, but you guys really woke me up when I was sleeping. Thank you so much!

This year was so different from last year. My book depressed me, which didn't really happen last year. But I also think that I was a much better writer. I'm not sure whether you will enjoy this book more than last year's. Time will tell, after all of the editing I need to do before I let you guys read it.

The drinks were also amazing. From the Wild Emilio in Toronto to the Flirty Emilio in Waterloo, and celebrating the end with a Sex With Emilio on the Beach in Barrie, they provided endless amusement.

It is with a heavy heart that I wave goodbye to this year's NaNoWriMo. It was awesome. It was terrible. It was difficult. It was uproariously funny. I loved many minutes of it, and hated many others. All in all, it was a great experience.

I hope that you all enjoy my book!

4,000 More Words to Go, But With a Heavy Heart

Is Fernando really that bored?


Sadly, I can't tell you what I have been writing about lately in the interest of continuing to go dark. But apparently, my writing isn't the only thing going dark. The world is dark as well.

Seriously, US??? Beating Spain 2-0 to knock them out of the Confederations Cup, the only thing that I had going for me all summer?

Honestly, I'm really upset. Fernando shouldn't have to wear the trash that the Americans see fit to put on their backs.

And next time, I would like to see him leave the undershirt at home.

Walking Towards the Light- 44,019 Words

Cristiano Ronaldo is the most recent footballer to signal his solidarity with NaNoWriMoers with the thumbs up!
Sergio Ramos has his eye on the prize, and so do we!


Alright, so I couldn't resist posting this. I actually wrote something funny today and I thought that you all might enjoy this.

In other news, Jon and Kate? My belief in love hasn't taken a hit like this since Brad and Jennifer. Will Olgando renew our sense that truly, all you need is love?

Fernando and I immediately regretted Fernando’s rash decision to invite the Iglesias family over to celebrate. I had once relished the idea of meeting Julio’s wife, Desmerelda Juanita, as I hoped that she would be as entertaining (but hopefully not as creepy) as Julio. Sadly, she was not entertaining, but had an excess of creepiness to make up for it. While her outfits were more subdued than Julio’s (he actually came over in a racoon skin cap and ass-less chaps over some jeans), she had adopted some fake British accent in an ill-advised attempt to pass as a North Londoner, despite the fact that she was clearly born in South America. And no, don’t try to argue that she may have developed the accent over time. She clearly didn’t. But then, when I made a comment about how I should charge my mobile, she loudly criticized my use of the word “mobile” and began calling me “Olgadonna Vennegoor of Hessaltrow,” comparing me to other famous accent fakers Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow. I felt that I was hardly deserving of such harsh treatment. Also, she went on and on about her new printed seashell pillows that she had just decorated for her “Dungeon of Love”; I gather that this was how she described their bedroom, and made a note to gouge of the part of my brain that would store this information later, or at minimum roofie myself. She noted that the linen covers that she used had been store-bought, though they could have been hand-sewn, and that the scallop shell's iconic shape turns pillows into inspired accessories. Despite all of my better intentions, I made a bet with myself that she had been playful in the design, mixing light and dark impressions, or perhaps going for a stylized row of narrow Vs. I wondered if I could use this technique on a sarong, which like my new raffia cocktail set, would cause quite the stir at my next party or beach trip, as long as I used a hue that suited the fabric. And wouldn’t it go great with my seashell-covered pots, or my aunt’s seashell napkins? All in all, I hated her.

This time it was me that pulled the trigger, yawning and complaining that Fernando had to apply the special shampoos and creams to my lice-infested hair. They both left soon after, with Desmerelda Juanita commenting that I should stop using other lice-having children’s “mobiles” (bitch), while Julio commented that Tim had been scratching his groin quite a bit recently (I wondered momentarily how he had noticed, and then promised myself that a roofie was in my near future) and he wondered aloud if there was some kind of connection. This earned him the door slamming in his face, and a series of expletives, which I hoped that they both heard. The door was now locked, twice, and all of the lights were turned off so as to make that terrible pair think that we had gone to bed. It was the first time Fernando and I had really been alone since I had gotten home; suddenly, I wanted them to come back.

David Villa Gives You the Thumbs Up!

One more week! Way to go, NaNoWriMo-ers!