50,032

Is it a tradition yet?

Yesterday I forsook my laptop and let Jean slip past to finish NaNo ahead of me (again!!!), but it was worth it. We braved the Black Friday traffic to go see Trans-Siberian Orchestra for the third time. I could go through my entire vocabulary to try to describe how good the show was, but for the sake of space and band-width, I'll just stick with IN-FREAKING-CREDIBLE and leave it at that. I mean, really, what else can I say about them? They're amazing musicians. Only once a year do I get to watch Alex's jaw drop into his lap, and then have him turn to me and say, "How'd he do that????" Like I know anything about guitars, thank you very much. I did redeem myself yesterday, if only for a moment. Angus Clark made a very unusual but highly musical noise I can only describe as a descending scritch. He was playing the part of the strings above the neck, near the tuning nuts. Alex apparently was watching his left hand and didn't see his right hand easing the whammy bar up. On the way home he was ranting, trying to puzzle it out, and I told him. He stopped short, thought for a minute, and said, "Hmm. I'll have to try that." *snicker* If I could have one freeby wish, it would be to watch a jam session with Alex, Al Petrelli, Angus Clark, and Tommy Farese. If I got to sing with them a little, that would be a bonus, even if they couldn't hear me.

Eric really came through for us when he bought the tickets. We've always had good seats, but this year we were on the floor with aisle seats. I will freely admit that I screamed like a little fan girl when Angus ran past close enough to touch. I'm not embarrassed because I was surrounded by screaming fan girls (and boys). I'm still smiling, just thinking about it.

As a side note, feel better soon, Al Petrelli. He broke his knee a few weeks ago, but the shows are going on. Al, nobody really believes that you actually did go splat, no matter what Tommy says. While I don't feel Al's pain specifically, I do feel his wife's pain. I've lived with a husband's knee injury, and it ain't a picnic. Hang in there, Jane, and make Tommy get him a drink every now and then.

The older I get, the less I like crowds. I don't shop when it's busy if I can help it. I don't do movie premiers or ball games or much of anything that will require me to share space with more than fifty people. TSO concerts are a whole different animal. They're two and a half hours of pure magic in my otherwise mundane life. They're the stuff dreams are made of. Anyone who likes rock, jazz, or classical music, amazing musicians, guitar or piano duels, snow, laser shows, pyrotechnics, a good story, or any combination thereof should take their loved ones and go see them. It's an investment in happy memories, and couldn't we all use some of those?

what's that light?

I went to a NaNo write-in this evening and got a fair amount done. My MC (Kate) did a phone survey that on the surface looks like fluff. Little does she (or the reader, hopefully) know that the real purpose of the survey is to help her stalker ex-husband find her. She doesn't give away much information, but it gives him a lead to follow. Apparently, Walter likes cappuccino and mocha brownies. Maybe Kate won't have to call the dogs for thousands of words after all.

(Oh, yeah, total word count is 43,415.)

Ugh

Last year I was visiting my mom's church, and in the sermon the pastor told how he'd hated English in school. He illustrated by telling about a writing assignment he'd gotten. It was supposed to be a certain length, so he wrote something along the lines of:

I have a cat. His name is Max. He always comes when I call him. When I want him to come inside, I go out and yell, "Here, Max! Here, kitty, kitty, kitty, Maxie kitty! Come here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" He repeated it to the end of the page and concluded with, "And then he comes home."

Today, I know exactly how he felt. I'm so tempted to have my MC step outside and yell for her dogs to come in for three or four thousand words. Walter is ready for a stiff drink. I'm averaging about 400 words a sprint now when I was doing 500-700. On the plus side, if you can call it that, if I do twenty one 400 word sprints between now and Sunday, I'll be over the top. That's four sprints a day, and I can take Thursday or Friday off. Or do two for each of those days. That's d0able.

Right, then, back to the salt mines for another 400 words, and then I'll go get more coffee...

Down to quadruple digits

I broke 41k a little while ago. Just 8,995 to go. The plan is to be coming up on 46k Wednesday so I can take Thursday and Friday off, but between us, I'll probably sneak upstairs to do some short sprints in between turkey bastings.

Alex moved the bookcases in the loft yesterday and created a partial wall in the middle. I set up my desk behind them, so I now have semi-private office space. It doesn't have a door, but it does have a window. At this point I'm taking what I can get; a free solution is better than building a real wall with a door.

I think that's it. Maybe not, but I'm too fried to remember anything else. Maybe I'll go see what's on TV and crochet a little. Walter seems to have gone to bed already.