…to all my Jewish friends who began celebrating Rosh Hashana at sundown last night.

(Video is work-safe content-wise, but requires sound.)

Scroll down for Thursday 13.

We all have them – those drawers in the kitchen that don’t hold knives or wooden spoons, or even potato chip bag clips, but instead provide a home for all those odds and ends we keep thinking we might use some day, and never do.

Mine is the drawer in the wet bar, under the counter where I have the coffee maker set up. I have no use for a wet bar, but I’ve often fantasized about installing a restaurant-quality espresso machine in the space. For now, my regular coffee maker will have to do.

Within our drawer, the “junk” drawer, we have expired coupons for products we don’t use, boxes of flea and heartworm medicine for the dogs, stray and possibly stale batteries, a spare garage door opener, an assortment of less-than-pristine rubber bands (I think the wide purple one might have once adorned broccoli), a package of birthday candles, and four – FOUR! – unopened boxes of peppermint altoids.

How do I know this? Because today I had cause to rifle through said drawer while hunting for the one item I expected to be there, that was not: the scotch tape.

What’s in YOUR junk drawer?

The air conditioner does not cool, even when the thermostat is set to 60, if the power part of the controls are set to “off” instead of “cool.”

I’m eagerly awaiting my en route order from BPAL despite the fact that I tallied my collection of imps a couple weeks ago, and found that I had 96 different scents, plus bottles of a bunch of Limited Edition and Lunacy scents, plus one General Catalogue scent – Intrigue – and then today I found a handful of little tubes I hadn’t tallied, had not, in fact even removed from the last box, which was still sitting on my dresser from when I pulled “Singing Moon” out of it a few weeks ago.

If there was a sort of drug rehab equivalent for perfume, I would probably be an excellent candidate. At this point, I’m spending almost as much at Black Phoenix as I am on books. And we all know about my addiction to books.

Actually, I’m very proud of myself for ordering a mere three bottles from the last release, though my next bunch of blog money will probably be spent on some of the Halloween scents.

Yesterday I wore Intrigue.
Today I’m wearing Thunder Moon.

I find these perfumes to be incredibly inspiring – the descriptions as well as the scents.

The leaves danced in the trees today and the sun was shining with joyous delight, for the air was cool and the crispness of fall was evident in every breath of fresh air. As I write this, the outside temperature, according to weather.com, is a cool, soothing, seventy degrees.

Three things happened today.

First, I had a long talk with myself, after receiving a link from my mother to a literary agency comprised almost entirely of women, one of whom I really feel clickage with. She specializes in fiction that is dark and/or quirky, and I’m tired of having all the work associated with my name be work stuff, essays, and stand-alone stories. So I’m feeling inspired and as I work best with strict deadlines, plan to have drafts of my proposal and sample chapters out to friends by the end of the month so that I can have it ready to send as a query by Halloween.

Second, I found the inspiration and the hook to weave, or braid, to borrow a phrase from a friend (and thanks, Julia-dahling, for loaning me your husband over the phone tonight. I needed to have a long chat with someone who would let me babble and geek out with me, and stuff.) my vignettes and stories together. Actually BPAL’s lunacies are one of the inspirations as well.

Third, I asked for, and was granted very graciously, hiatus from ComedySportz. No, nothing tragic happened. I’ve just got a lot of personal stuff going on, and all my creative energy is going Write, Write, Write, and I need to focus on that for a while.

But the pink hair is staying :)

I just got off the phone with my mortgage company. They’d sent a letter that made me panic momentarily, but the woman I spoke with straightened everything out and reassured me, and was extremely warm and outgoing, and we actually had a real conversation, for which I hope she doesn’t get in trouble.

I know it sounds weird to say that I had a delightful conversation with a person in a call center, but you see, we talked about books. I mentioned that I’m a writer and that I love my job, but had been frustrated because of my wire not showing up until after Labor Day – not my boss’s fault, the bank cut short their wire hours – and stuff like that.

She asked, “What do you write?”

I explained what I did and she shared that she writes romances and mysteries, and asked me for my web address, so that she could leave a note and tell me who she is, and I hope she does because she seemed like a really interesting person, and I’d love to know if I’ve read her work and maybe interview her for Bibliotica. She is also a former employee of that big financial company whose name rhymes with Pretty Tank.

I told her that I was working on getting my cafe series ready to query agents with and told her a bit about it, and she seemed really receptive to the concept, which is good, because it’s one thing to hear such things from your friends and family but quite another to hear it from a total stranger.

And so, with renewed vigor, I am writing reviews this afternoon, and later tonight, I will eat steak and salad, and work on my own writing, after taking for the dogs for walkies, which I’d planned to skip today because my knee is a bit sore, but the weather is divine, and being outside should not be missed.

Okay, time for more coffee.
Then, back to work!

I said today was a better day, not perfect.

GOOD: Air Conditioner repair guy will be here in about half an hour.

BAD: Coffee maker decided that counter top and not carafe was appropriate place for brewed coffee to be deposited.

GOOD: Well, it did stain the counter a lovely shade of brown. . .

When I was a very little girl, and would visit my grandfather, one of my favorite things to look at was his photo cube. It was a clear acrylic cube with a photograph of me on each side, mostly from when I was a baby, or just into my toddling years. I thought that was the coolest thing ever, at the time.

Years later, learning about the existence of digital photo frame technology has me wondering if my grandfather might not have been one of the first people on the block to acquire such a thing. He was, after all, technologically savvy, a tinkerer and a putterer with a background in electronics and a love for nifty gadgets.

Of course, being my grandfather, he’d never have settled for just one digital picture frame. He’d have had a piano full of them, each one a different color, each one featuring shots of a different grandchild, uploaded from his flash drive, accompanied by a favorite tune.

He died before shopping online became popular, so chances are he’d have found a local distributor, but he’d have used DigitalFramez.com.au if he’d lived just a bit longer, and, like me, he would have liked that their frames come in many different colors, and a range of sizes, that they’ll ship worldwide, and that, in addition to the usual MasterCard and Visa, they also take PayPal. (Personally, I wish more online merchants used PayPal – it’s much more efficient.)

Right now, as well as the product itself, DigitalFramez is shipping a 256 MB SD card with every 10-inch frame.

I think that’s kind of cool.
And I think my grandfather would have appreciated it.