Bottle Shock is the movie we saw yesterday. It was not only enjoyable and funny, it also made me want to curl up on a deck chair with a good book and some excellent chardonnay. (For the budget conscious, Fetzer’s “Sundial” Chardonnay is quite tasty.)
Today, for Media Monday, I’m sharing the trailer.
Or maybe that should be “Unwrapped.” Whatever.
Thursday
I received a lovely bouquet of flowers that arrived sans card, but were from my friend Deb. This was the official beginning of my birthday weekend.
Friday
A lightning storm woke me around five, and scared the dogs, but we all went back to sleep. I’d stayed up late Thursday despite not feeling well (female stuff and a stomach bug that required me to send Fuzzy out for perrier and pepto that evening) so I wouldn’t have to work much on Friday.
I’d also been primed to be home to answer the door. My mother sent me a cake.
Saturday
We went to the Dallas Galleria despite it being a Tax Free Weekend, so that I could pick my present from Fuzzy. I’d been lusting after a new watch, and we found one at the Fossil store. We also had lunch at Cafe Brazil. I came home and went to sleep after that, because I still wasn’t feeling very peppy. In fact, I canceled the nail appt. I was supposed to have had that morning. It’s all good though, because Deb and I will bond over mani/pedi’s on Friday afternoon.
Sunday
My actual birthday was quiet but pleasant.
Today, we slept late. We’d gone to bed before one, but I’d been really dizzy the night before, to the point where I felt like the planet was spinning around me. We emerged from the cocoon of sleep, showered, dressed, and went into Dallas, to the Angelika (a lovely theater) to see Bottle Shock, about California wines beating French wines in a 1976 blind tasting. It starred Alan Rickman, Bill Pullman, and Chris Pine (among others), featured Eliza Dushku in a small but important part, and even had what amounted to a bit more than a cameo by Bradley Whitford, so it was pretty much the perfect birthday movie for me. It’s funny and sweet and really enjoyable, and I officially recommend it.
After the movie, we went to an Irish pub called Trinity Hall for dinner. I didn’t realize this until after we told our waitress that it was my birthday, but they have a Sunday Birthday Discount. If you go to their restaurant on the Sunday closest to your birthday (and you can’t get much closer than the actual day) you get a discount on food (but not alcohol) that equals your new age. I had the braised lamb chops. I’d initially wanted Irish Stew, and I kind of wish I’d stuck to that, but we’ll go back, and I don’t have lamb chops very often. Fuzzy had Shepherd’s Pie (really Peasant Pie, since there was only beef in it) and we shared a peach tart/cobbler/thing. I also had lovely hard pear cider during my meal, and an Irish coffee after.
We stayed for the first two rounds of trivia (it’s quiz night at the pub), but then Fuzzy got bored, and we knew the dogs were waiting.
So, now I’m home, with small cuddly creatures, watching Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School which has the same director and much of the same cast as Bottle Shock, and is interesting and quirky so far.
How was your weekend?
I’ve been a Fossil fan since forever, and somewhere in a box, I have one of their original, basic, white dial with moon phases watches that desperately needs to be ‘tuned’ and given a new strap.
Over the years, I’ve purchased other Fossils as well, as they always have something that speaks to me when I’m watch shopping.
Among my current collection are a blue-dial Kaleidoscope that alternates between a mirrored dial and a variegated blue dial in two-second intervals, and an oblong bracelet-style watch that I left with the Fossil people today because the clasp keeps un-clasping.
For my birthday, I told Fuzzy I needed a new watch, and also wanted the other two fixed. (Both needed batteries.) My Kaleidoscope is now home and ticking happily, and my birthday watch, pictured above, is on my wrist.
The description on Fossil‘s web site is “brown and gold,” but it’s really more of a dark matte copper with a warm gold tone. (I’d been looking at this, a rose-gold Twist, and one of their models with a leather band, but the leather wasn’t as appealing up close, and the Twist was very heavy and too masculine for my tastes, despite being a woman’s watch (and it was pink in all the wrong ways.)
This one was my second choice. The first was a similarly shaped dial with a more hollow band, and all the brown/copper color, but Fuzzy made the tie-breaking decision, and I’m pleased with the result, especially since we’d eliminated half the offerings before arriving – anything silver – because my other two functional Fossils are silver.
To make the decision even better, the price was $10 less than what the tag (and website) both said – $85 instead of $95.
Sadly, we left that store, and the Galleria in which it resides, before I remembered the bracelet I’d also wanted to look at.
Oh, well.
The cake my mother sent? Delicious. Goes perfectly with hot coffee. Ice cream optional.
I know, it sounds like the beginning of a joke, right? Or as Sky said, “It’s a great opening line.” She’s right of course. But the thing is, my mother, queen of birthday surprises, really did send me a cake.
We haven’t sliced it yet, but the delivery form says there’s chocolate underneath the buttercream frosting.
Oh! And the flowers from yesterday? They were from my good friend Deb.
I love flowers. I also love celebrating my birthday (mine’s Sunday). I especially love it when people send me flowers to help me celebrate my birthday.
What I don’t love is when I receive such flowers and the florist has no information about who they’re from, and the card has no name.
So…if you’re the person who sent me a delightful bouquet of flowers (daisies and such) with a note that said Happy Happy (Early) Birthday, please know that I’m tickled to death, but there was no name on the card, and the flower delivery guy didn’t have the info either.
They look like this:
So, today in class, MN gave us his pep/fear talk. “There are 50,0000 people writing novels every year. You don’t have to worry about 48,000 of them. You need to give up any ego you have, and do what it takes to be in the 2,000 who actually publish. And sometimes that means your breakout novel is NOT the book you really want to write. But it’s the one that can sell.”
– He had us read a 9-page synopsis and 1-page writing sample from a real author who was beyond help (author’s name withheld).
– He had us pretend to be editors at Knopf and pick it apart, giving it a yay-or-nay and telling why
– He had each of us give a practice pitch: Name, Title, Genre, Comps, Credentials (what you’ve published, or if you have experience that relates to the subject matter), Log Line (Short description). Pitch (Jacket Blurb Nutshell).
Then he picked it apart. Half of us were asked for new titles and more definition, almost all of us were told to define our genre better (many of these ppl walked in saying “I write literary fiction” and left with instructions to get comfortable with their stories really being mainstream, commercial, fantasy, women’s fic, etc.
He liked my concept, but agreed that I need plot help (well, I knew that).
He suggested strongly that I embrace the chick-lit aspects of my idea, and make it quirky, and not fight the funny.
And he asked for a longer title.
Attached is what I came up with after class, when Michelle and I went to the Round Table in the Marina, got Pizza and Beer, and went to work.
It uses most of the elements I wanted, though I think I’m going to have to toss the 70’s part, and set it all in the future, but keeps the elements I most loved.
And he said Universal Blend should be my book of short stories.
And I agree.
Leave me a comment with your email address if you want to see my pitch :) You must be able to read word doc or docx files.
Arrived SFO yesterday.
Walked to Hyde St. to get muni pass. They were closed.
Brunched with Clay, at Mama’s on Washington Square, where we both had the French Toast sampler, and we split a side of bacon and a side of home fries.
Hung out in the park talking, until a scary old guy decided that 62 degrees was just too damned warm for pants, and dropped trou in the middle of the park.
Bought truffles and salt water taffy for bus money.
Ended up taking cab.
Came back to hotel.
Called Fort Mason to find out where Meet and Greet was … meeting.
Found out venue had changed.
Wandered to Cioppinos on the wharf.
Had Aglio e Olio & lovely chardonnay while meeting and greeting.
Workshop leader reminds me of a fuzzier, warmer, more literary Brent Spiner.
No, really, he does.
Am tired, but looking forward to tomorrow.
Expect this will be most informative.
The trailer’s been released for the better part of a week, and I’ve seen it on the big screen (in front of The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. Ironically, even though I KNEW the trailer was on this film, it surprised me.) so I decided that since I’m off to San Francisco in a few hours, for a novel workshop/agent pitch thing, it was a good time to post this.
November can’t come soon enough.
(And those who know me, will understand the irony in that statement.)
Zorro is one of those chi/JRT mixes who manages to capture the best parts of both breeds with very little of the bad. One of those traits is his love of vertical take-offs and landings. He can, when inspired, jump higher than my shoulder, and while that may not sound like much since I’m only five feet tall (exactly), he’s only 7.5 INCHES tall.
He likes to jump up and down from our bed, which is fairly high, as we have a thick box spring on the frame, and a pillow-top mattress on top of that. There’s a chest at the foot of the bed that makes a good step, and sometimes we find him curled up on top of it, but he almost never uses it to get up or down.
A couple of days ago, he fell off the bed, and I thought I heard a dog-bone sort of pop, but he didn’t squawk or anything, though he did begin to limp on that leg, a leg where he already has a problem knee. The limping continued, with no signs of pain when I manipulated the leg or hip, and I began to wonder if my dog was just acting out for attention. (He affected a limp when the pet sitter was here last Christmas.) He’s also got a stage six heart murmur, so when limping was accompanied by his dry hacking cough for the past two nights, despite drugging him like crazy, we went to the vet.
Here’s the result:
His heart is marginally worse (it’s enlarged, but it has been for a while). His blood pressure is a little high, but not dangerously slow. He’s at his higher summer weight (9 pounds) because it’s been too hot for walkies (108 today). The cough, the vet thinks, is allergies/cold/irritation, and rather than give us more cough meds, he wants us to try benadryl.
His leg, OTOP (on the other paw) is not so good. He basically blew out the ACL on the side with the bad knee. There’s a surgical fix, of course, but because of Zorro’s heart condition, the vet advises against anything invasive, especially since anesthesia would be required. They are uncertain it is worth the risk putting a 14-year-old dog through that.
So, we have canine narcotics (tramadol – it’s $1 / pill, and we have 15, but that’s a 60 day supply for a dog this small), and we’ve been told to keep him still as much as possible but that there will be a degree of healing, though we should expect that he’ll always run on three legs, even when he begins walking on four again.
The people who were leaving as we came in had one dog in a trauma collar, and had just put down their other, and were in tears.
We got off with drugs and a $140 bill.
We were lucky.