Pulpwood Queens Girlfriends’ Weekend

16 Monday Jan 2012

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My big trip to Tejas was this past weekend, and the Pulpwood Queens Girlfriends’ Weekend proved to be the fun time that was promised. Kathy Patrick, its founder and organizer, truly has vision that Cannot Be Stopped.

I wish I had some juicy author-gossip stories to tell, but there are none because everyone was nice, friendly, supportive, and generous. Come on, you authors! You’re not giving me very scandalous material.

Girlfriends’ Weekend was held in Jefferson, which is about an hour or so away from Shreveport, and 3.5 hrs or less from Dallas.

The last time I was in Texas, I was ten and my family was driving through at breakneck speed to get to Pennsylvania in three days (which we did). So I had no idea what to expect.

It was cold, 32 degrees or so. Maybe 34. Now, Little Girl believes if the sky is blue and the sun is shining, it is a skirt-wearing day. Nine times out of ten in San Diego, sun shining means at least 65 degrees. What a reality check that would have been for her.

Jefferson, billed as The Most Haunted Small Town in America, looks like Main Street USA in Disneyland, combined with the New Orleans quarters (yes, I get all my architectural references from Disneyland, but what can you expect from a Southern Californian?). Thus the wrought iron details.

And I saw 4 gazebos, which is a lot, for me. Cadillac promises he will Build a Gazebo for me as soon as we own a house with enough room for one. (So what if he might have made that under duress?)

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The first night was the Clown Alley author dinner, wherein we dressed like clowns and served BBQ dinner to the patrons. Here I made an important discovery: I could totally make it as a server. Or an expediter. That’s my fallback career.

Here I am with authors Karen Harrington (pink wig) and Caroline Leavitt (who has the most amazing, inspiring Stick to It story ever, with the success of PICTURES OF YOU, her 9th novel, I do believe).

And here are all the authors together:

About 400 women (and a few brave men) came to this event, plus, all told, I think 50 authors (some came along later).

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The next day, I had a little time to relax on the porch.

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Here’s me with glamorous authoress-extraordinaire, Carolyn Turgeon.

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After my panel, we headed over to the Best Hamburger Place in East Texas. It’s covered in signed dollar bills. I wondered if you could rob the place, but the bills would be easy to trace.

Here I learned:

  • All the Way means with all the fixings. I thought perhaps it meant “well done” which was confusing. So in Texas, in this part, you say All the Way whenever you want everything on your burger/sandwich/whatever.
  • Elvis mannequins are Extremely Disturbing Objects.

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I kept thinking there was a strange-haired man behind the counter. Nope, just Elvis.

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Then it was time for the Pretty in Pink bash. Here I am with authors Marcia Fine and Sarah Jio. I have to tell you two things about Sarah: she travels with her baby (and hubby, to help) therefore deserves a special Author Mommy Commendation Medal; and her latest, The Bungalow, is SOOO freaking good! I read it on the flight home. Totally escapist, tragic, romantic. Who doesn’t want to read about Bora Bora during the dead of winter, anyway?

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And here I am with authors Eleanor Brown, Meg Waite Clayton, and Karen Harrington (Meg and Karen and I were on a panel). And that is TOTALLY Eleanor’s real hair! No, she had a couple of different wigs with her.

Also: I am wearing the dress my friend Megan gave me, which she wore to her senior prom in 1988. Because I am a *bit* bigger than the average high school senior, I had to let it out. The seamstress was going to charge $60 for this (a tiny Thai seamstress who clucked and moaned at how many inches she had to let it out because I am Monstrously Large, which granted she did not voice in words but through her sighs and shakings of head), but I went all Molly Ringwald on it and added panels myself. And it didn’t burst open, so it was a success. Those pearls are from the swapmeet.

Here’s some lovely sherbet/7-Up punch which some spiked with Grey Goose.

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After prom, a bunch of people went to the local bar, despite there being talk of Real Cowboys there who might not take a liking to a bunch of sissified author-folk walking in in prom dresses.

Not one of those locals blinked an eye.

There was karaoke going on, which we all thought was recorded music until we saw that there was a stage in the back. Those Jeffersonians are good singers! Two of the locals sat with us and one, whilst reaching to shake my hand, spilled beer all over my prom dress. Leading my friend Julie to joke, as we drove home, “Look at you, coming home with beer all over your prom dress after midnight.” Just like prom, eh?

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The next night, we ate a buffet at the Excelsior Hotel, which I am sure must be haunted in some way and has a beautiful dining room. They had us pay at the front, get a playing card, and put the playing card into a basket as we walked in.

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Then it was time for the Great Big Ball of Hair. Book clubs dressed their tables in themes and also dressed up together. It was totally impressive.

Here’s me and Julie Kibler and Eleanor, who was being a tattoo artist and wearing another wig.

Then we got up bright and early the next day and went home, jiggety jig. The cat liked the beery dress.

So what did Cadillac do during all this time? Answer: Pretty Much Nothing, hereafter known as the acronym PMN, which is good. He drove us to and from the convention center and watched football and read books.

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Also, I just noticed most of the pictures I took (on my iPhone) are totally crooked but did not appear to be whilst taking them. I guess I’m imbalanced!

Get Ready for the Craziest Author Show on Earth!

09 Monday Jan 2012

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Okay, I never thought I’d be so excited to dress up in a clown costume, but I am. I’m gearing up right now for the Pulpwood Queens Girlfriend Weekend in Jefferson, TX (The Most Haunted Small Town in America!)

Kathy Patrick is the Grand Doyenne of Pulpwood, the creator of the Pulpwood Queens, which has more than 500 chapters around the US and in other countries. Kathy is a one-woman force who runs a beauty parlor-cum-bookstore in Every year, she invites a bunch of authors to come meet these book club patrons in a 4 day fest of author-interactive fun.

So, Thursday night, the authors serve dinner whilst dressed…you got it…as clowns! Hopefully no one will be a scary clown. I got a clown dress thing in a One Size Fits All (4-10) which therefore is really really short on me, thus requiring pants. So it’s more like a clown tunic.

Friday Night is the Pretty in Pink ball, for which my friend Megan gave me her Pretty in Pink prom dress from 1988! Like, ohmahgawd! I even went to the swap meet and scored strands of super long pearls (remember that fad?). Because Megan was quite small in high school, I had to let out the dress, so I went all Molly Ringwald on it (remember her character made her own dress in that movie like she was Scarlett O’Hara with curtains?) and added panels of satin. Luckily the skirt is full, so it fit fine.

Then on Saturday there’s the grand gala, the circus event, for which I got a circus costume that is not a clown. I will post pics later.

And of course sandwiched in between these costume galas are lots of panels and signings and such.

And did I mention the authors coming?

I didn’t?

Caroline Leavitt (Pictures of You), Sarah Jio (The Bungalow and The Violets of March), Eleanor Brown (The Weird Sisters), Carolyn Turgeon (Mermaid), Rebecca Rasmussen (The Bird Sisters), Therese Fowler (Exposure), Lisa Wingate (Dandelion Summer) and lots more…those are the ones I remember offhand. Whew.

Best of all, my friend Julie Kibler is picking me up at el aeropuerto and we are going over there together.

So here’s to much clownery and tomfoolery coming up!

Revenge on Leprechauns

08 Sunday Jan 2012

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For Christmas, my son’s teacher presented us with his best story printed on nice paper, and a laminated illustrated calendar he’d made. It made me laugh so I thought I’d share it here.

Those pesky leprechauns have been bothering us for years. They started surfacing when my kids were little, leaving green piss in the toilet, green footprints all over the place, and springing the traps while they escaped. Last St Patrick’s Day, the leprechaun ran out of luck.

*****

Revenge on Leprechauns

On Saint Patrick’s Day, a leprechaun should have skipped my house. He only made a small mess. But he managed to write a note. Each year, me and my little sister make traps to catch the leprechauns. If you catch one it will turn into a doll.

We have made other traps before. We once made a female leprechaun out of a paper towel core with candy inside it. We also made a leprechaun living room trap with a lollipop, and the hat trap where there is a hat in a box stuck to tape on a pencil holding it up, but only once did this stuff work, and it isn’t the reason he should have skipped my house.

During night, the traps get activated and messes are made and excitement happens when the cat wakes up from his night time snooze. When we wake up, there is a small mess. But we soon discover the leprechaun paid a price that made up for all his years of pranking.

We found a small hat in the cat’s food bowl, so the leprechaun was most likely torn limb from limb by our harsh cat. In fact, he killed a flying bird once, he’s such a good hunter.

So that is the reason why the leprechaun should have skipped my house and I think there will be no more leprechauns in my house next year.

In Which Margaret Forces the Children to Be Cultured and (Nearly) Fights Hipster Parents

04 Wednesday Jan 2012

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In my never-ending quest to win the Worst Mother in the Universe, Hands-Down (I hope my trophy comes with Hands-Down on it) I took the kids to LA on New Year’s Day to LACMA. Which is the LA County Museum of Art.

My MIL used to lament how none of the Dilloway girls had any artistic talent. Then my artistic genetics came into the picture. Both my girls love making art.

I *was* an art major, so it’s only natural that I love going to art museums and stuff like that. I love standing in front of art and telling the kids about it and asking them what they think until they roll their eyes and try to melt into the floor (usually takes about 20 seconds).

One of my friends had gone to LACMA and noted their FREE kids’ program, called NexGen, was going on. You sign up and each kid gets to take an adult in for FREE also.

Three free kids plus two free adults equals cost of gas to LA, plus food. So not a bad day trip.

Of course, it almost killed Son, who nearly keels over at the thought of doing anything. Anything he specifically doesn’t choose, that is. So the tar pit museum, which would be his speed (yeah, I know that’s not its proper name) was closed, so first we looked at the art.

We needed to go see the Monet/Lichtenstein cathedrals . You have to take an escalator to the 3rd floor, outside, to get there.

So we got on and realized, hey, this thing is TALL and high up.

One of my recurring nightmares is an escalator nightmare, where a tall escalator goes fast and I fall off. Make of that what you will. (My other recurring nightmare is about the Kardashians. Once I dreamed they were pod people turning everyone into them. SCARY! I know!)

Son is afraid of heights so he started freaking out. Little Girl freaked out because her brother was freaking out and both were holding onto Cadillac for dear life, their eyes shut.

I said, “Well, it is a rather tall escalator,” meaning to acknowledge what they were feeling (and also a fleeting memory of my nightmare). This only served to freak them out more.

This nearly ruined Son’s entire trip. Luckily, an ice cream sandwich saved the day.

Then we went and looked at the tar pits outside. A sad baby mammoth cries as its Daddy or Mommy sinks into the tar. Talk about nightmares!

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Finally we returned to the art museum, where we found these long plastic spaghetti-like strands where kids could roam free.

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Unfortunately some kids were roaming free-er than others. There were some hipster parents there whose kid, about age 10, had a mullet meant, I suppose, to be ironic (I just found this entertaining and enlightening post: “The Ironic of the Ironic: Hipsters Don’t Understand Irony“) They were all wearing these cowboy shirts and the mom had a faded pink streak in her hair.

Anyway, no problem with hipsters generally, but their kid began chasing a girl (his sister, perhaps) and grabbing handfuls of this plastic stuff and whipping it back in her face to smack and hurt her. She avoided it for the most part but he got more and more aggressive and soon was running all through the maze. I looked over at the mother and she was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read– I hoped she was smiling and not understanding, but I felt like she was smirking and TOTALLY understanding and thinking, “What? What are you gonna do about it? I’ve got a pink streak in my hair I made with Kool-Aid.” I looked at her kid and back at her and I frowned and she was still smiling at me and her husband was staring at the sky or something. Usually this is the point where Responsible Parents understand their kid is being bad and do something about it. So I asked Cadillac if he wanted to say something and he said he really didn’t want to have to get into bloodshed at the art museum, but if I said something he would back me up.

So then it was all like this for a moment:

Then Son shouted, “Hey, cut that out! What are you trying to do?” and I looked inside to see him behind Little Girl, holding her shoulders, and his big sister covering him. And the kid stopped whipping the plastic around in peoples’ faces and we went inside.

Which was probably more effective, anyway.

Fiftyfifty: Reading 50 Books, Watching 50 Films

04 Wednesday Jan 2012

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Over on Fiftyfifty.me you can sign up to be part of a challenge: read 50 books for 2012, watch 50 films for 2012.

Reading’s no problem. But do I watch 50 films?

Most of the time, there’s a kid movie playing on TV when there is a movie on. Most of the time, it’s an abysmal kid movie, like a Chipmunk or the Beverly Hills Chihuahuas (which Little Girl calls “Chicka-wa-wa”). The kids love these movies and I think they’re mostly harmless, but trying to pay attention to them is like slow drip water torture. I am serious. If I get captured by enemies they can play some annoying kid’s movie and I will crack like an old porcelain vase. Bad kid-movie-watching is probably banned under the Geneva Convention, though. So, I may be in the same room, but I am not usually watching the movie– I’m reading or cleaning or cooking or something.

Also, we unsubscribed from the DVD option at Netflix, which means to watch newer movies, we can either pay $5 for the cable on-demand movies, or drive to the Redbox. Because we never plan ahead, this might be difficult.

I mostly hate going to see movies in theaters because of people. I know this makes me sound Andy-Rooney-level misanthropic, but really. When I go to a movie, no matter what movie it is, there is someone from one of these groups here:

  • Kids. We went to Tropic Thunder in a theater, and some moron brought a little kid. I spent the whole movie worried about this little kid being exposed to the R-rated movie, imagining this kid bringing his ill-wrought interactions on my kids.  Also, if I don’t have or can’t afford a babysitter, I’d either stay home or go to a PG movie. Not bring my kid to a 10 o’clock showing of an R-rated comedy they won’t get anyway.
  • Old people. I cannot wait for the day I am old and I, too, can have no verbal filter and unabashedly disturb others during movies. The Descendants, daytime showing. Two elderly couples strolled in late and talked loudly in the aisles. “I can’t see! I told you to leave earlier, dammit.” “It’s not MY fault you wouldn’t park where I said.” They grasped my shoulder as they went by so they wouldn’t fall. The people in front of us: “What did he say? Who’s that? Is that George Clooney? He looks OLD. So old.”
  • Young People and their Stupid Smart Phones. They cannot live without checking that flashlight-bright screen every 10 minutes. It’s a beacon– my eyes are drawn away from the screen and to the kid a few aisles down.
  • Cologne. Perpetrated by all sorts of age ranges. It doesn’t matter if it’s cheap or if it’s expensive. It makes me sneeze and if I can smell you from a hundred yards away, you’re wearing too much.

 

I digress(this must be why it takes me so long to write a blog post!) but you get the idea. I don’t go to movies much and I don’t watch them much at home. TV shows, yes. I just started watching Downton Abbey (it’s Masterpiece Theater, can I count that as a film or two?).

Anyway, I will try to do this challenge and blog about it here. There you have it.

Also, I found a plan to watch movies regularly, a plan which, curiously enough, came from a BOOK. Barbara Kingsolver’s ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, MIRACLE, in which she says she has a weekly movie night during which she makes pizza.

Monster In-Laws Casting

28 Wednesday Dec 2011

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Anyone having a problem with their in-laws and would like to be on TV? Here’s a casting notice for you!

“MONSTER IN-LAWS” on A&E Is Now Casting Nationwide

“A ground-breaking new series that explores the complex relationships between married couples and their in-laws.”

Are you struggling to maintain a relationship with an out-of-control in-law?

Is a cultural or background divide challenging your relationship?

Does the statement, “When mom/dad says no, ask grandma/grandpa” ring true in your family?

Does your mother or father-in-law still baby your husband/wife, challenge your parenting style or openly disrespect you?

If you’re desperate to repair your relationship with an in-law before it’s too late, we want to hear from you! Families who appear on the show will have the opportunity to work with a professional relationship expert who will help them to identify their issues and repair their relationships. Families who appear on the show will receive a financial honorarium as a “thank you” for their time and commitment to the show. In addition, we offer a finder’s fee for anyone who nominates a family that appears on the show.

To apply, please fill out a brief casting questionnaire:
http://www.leftfieldpictures.com/in-laws-casting/

Meet Pillsbury Bake-Off Finalist Kelly Drost

15 Thursday Dec 2011

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One day, my friend Kelly Drost and I were having coffee when she busted out this news ever-so-casually: she’d entered the Pillsbury Bake-Off contest this year—and ended up a finalist! Say what? How cool is that? This spring, she’ll travel to Orlando to compete against the other contestants for a grand prize of (cue Dr. Evil finger) ONE MILLION DOLLARS! I’m so excited for her.

Besides being an awesome cook, Kelly is a mother of a toddler, a wife, a writer, and a flight attendant. She is a just a little bit busy, but still found time to talk to me about her experience.

Can you describe how the contest works? How many people enter, and how many are chosen to be finalists?

Tens of thousands of people enter the contest and only one hundred finalists are picked. The 45th Pillsbury Bake-Off Contest will take place in Orlando on March 26th. Finalists are chosen based on an original recipe that involves Pillsbury products. One finalist will walk away from the contest with one million dollars, a GE® Free-Standing Electric Range and $7,000 in additional GE Profile™ kitchen appliances. Three other contestants will win $8,000 in cash and prizes. The rest of us will get a free round trip ticket to Orlando, a GE microwave and a couple of nights in a nice hotel.

Have you entered the Pillsbury Bake-Off contest before?
This is my first time entering the contest. I entered hoping to get my husband off the couch and out of a funk he was in at the time. He ended up being too busy to create a recipe, but he was my number one taste tester. My entry is called Brie and Candied Tomato Tartlets.


How did you come up with your recipe idea? How many times did you make different recipes before you hit on this one? Did you know it was extra-special after you made it, or did it come as a surprise?
I’m not allowed to talk about all the ingredients until the cookbook comes out in January, so I can’t tell you exactly how I came up with it, but I will say that I started with the candied tomatoes. I planned the recipe in my head for about a month before I started cooking. I experimented with different ingredients and Pillsbury products for a couple of weeks. After a half a dozen tries, I came up with the final recipe. I knew it was extra special as soon as I tasted the final batch, but I still didn’t think I’d be picked. It tastes really, really good, but I just kinda figured it would get lost in the shuffle with the other tens of thousands of recipes.


What are you most worried about for the contest? What are you most excited for?
I’m worried I’ll flop and burn the crust on my tartlets or that I’ll forget to add salt and give the dish to the judges bland. I’m worried that someone came up with a recipe more creative than mine, but I’m excited about the possibility of winning. I want to be a millionaire. I want the title of Pillsbury Bake-Off Winner. I want to mean it when I rap along to songs on the radio about being rich and I want women to whisper about my win when I walk into a party. Okay, maybe that last part is never going to happen, but I would feel proud to have created a million dollar recipe.


What will you do with a million dollars if you win?
The money is paid out over twenty years, so I won’t be showering in Cristal and diamonds if I win. I will, however, have less stress about saving for the future. I’d put the money toward my daughter’s college fund, my retirement, a mortgage on a nice family home, then play with what’s left. I’ve always wanted to take a long vacation in Italy, to drive around the countryside and taste all the local food. I’d probably go on a little shopping spree or two. I’d definitely replace my husband’s set of leaky coffee mugs he complains about every morning.

UPDATE:

Here is Kelly’s recipe! It looks delicious. (Kelly, you’re making these for a mom’s group event soon, right? We’re so lucky!)

Stop Taking Pictures and LIVE!

14 Wednesday Dec 2011

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Last weekend, we went to the 91X concert called Wrex the Halls. And it was a lot of fun. There were a lot of young folk there, dagnabbit, but there were also plenty of older folk like us, one of whom pointed out that I still had a freaking tag hanging off my jacket (thanks for telling me, ENTIRE FAMILY WHO INSPECTED ME BEFORE I LEFT and WHO ALSO NEVER TELL ME ABOUT THE SPINACH. THE SPINACH!).

We were on the floor, in a mostly civil crush of people, mostly blessedly and rather curiously not drenched in AXE (thank you! You all got my memo).

I have to tell you, people say that Asians go crazy with the cameras, but it’s really EVERYONE in the WORLD.

Wherever you looked you could see camera phone screens lit and held aloft, recording, taking grainy photos. The girls in front of me had TWO cameras each– one a DSLR and the other a camera– flashes busy, armpits aired out, arms banging on my head.

Did I laugh when one girl behind me dropped her phone? Yes.

Really. How can you watch the show or live in the actual real live moment when you are doing nothing but filming and taking photos?

It’s what I also think when we go to places like Disneyland and there’s a parent lugging around 50 pounds of camera equipment and forcing his kids to get in the GOOD light. For God’s sake, put down the stupid camera and enjoy.

Anyway, 91X had a real photographer there and a real videographer there to document, and have a bunch of stuff on their website.

A couple of photos are all you need- must you be ridiculous? Are you going to make your friends sit through a slideshow of your concert experience? (Oh yeah, it’s called Facebook).

Because they turn out like this:

It was a good concert, the lineup being as follows:The Naked and the Famous, The Airborne Toxic Event, Cage the Elephant, Noel Gallagher, Death Cab for Cutie, Florence and the Machine. First, I didn’t even know Noel Gallagher had a new band (called the High Flying Birds or something, won’t bother to look it up) because I thought he and his brother broke up Oasis (who *was* the instigator)? Anyway, they played several Oasis songs, so I guess it didn’t matter much that Oasis broke up.

We found a lounge that said MEMBERS ONLY but nobody stopped us. I think people just didn’t know they could go in. The drinks were no more expensive inside than in the rest of the place. Beforehand, I bought a special Wrex the Halls shirt that promised free swag if you wore it! Free VIP things! but really all I got was to go ahead in line. The 91X girl (when I asked much later) said they gave out all their VIP passes. A thousand drats! I even (I don’t know if you can see it in the picture) cut it up really cute, because it was a non-curvy boy’s shirt. So punk of me, I know. I think it should have gotten me Special Honors or at least a ribbon.

My two current favorites were there (as I will mention in a blog post over on in a couple of days. I am listening to the Airborne Toxic Event and Florence and the Machine as I write. Not exclusively because they don’t have millions of hours of songs, but all of their songs plus songs based on their songs, according to Pandora. Florence and the Machine has such a strong beautiful voice– I was afraid she’d be drowned out in the cavernous Sports Arena (confusingly known as Valley View Casino Center)– in performance, she is like if you put together:

(you know, Professor Trelawny, the Divinations Teacher from Hogwarts)
and

a Pre-Raphaelite Ophelia.

Which I mean in the best way possible.

The Picnic Backpack, or the Best White Elephant Snatch (er, Steal) Ever

14 Wednesday Dec 2011

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I would like to introduce you to my new little friend…

The Picnic Backpack!

This item was won at my mom’s group Christmas party, wherein a very complex White Elephant gift swap was undertaken. Now, you could either use an item that you bought for $10 or less; or an item you already had around. One lady who shall remain unnamed brought this in as an unused item, since obviously it is worth far more than $10. The most interesting thing about this was:

The first person who got it unzipped the backpack and removed a large framed picture. The lady who gifted it gasped, “Oh, that’s mine!” and raced to reclaim it, tucking it face-down under her chair. Though I was curious to know what this picture was of (large winky face) I refrained from peeking out of great willpower.

You can steal something three times, and I was the 17th up. By then the picnic backpack had been stolen twice. Friend Nancy came up with some Machiavellian plot she tried to get people involved with (you get me the backpack, and I’ll steal you the martini glasses) but I wanted the backpack for my own. I’d just seen one like it in a catalog.

So when my number was called, I casually walked up and claimed it from the very sweet Miranda who had it (Miranda being so nice it was like kicking a kitten) and strolled back to my spot as the women cheered. You see, it’s not my style to crow and carry on; do not my actions speak loud enough? Shall I have to raise my voice above the din to make it heard? Can I think of any other hyperbole? (This last is for Nancy, who, the next day, complained that I was way too quiet about it or something).

I imagine my backpack will be carried exclusively by someone other than me, to romantic hilltops aboard white horses glazed with foam or on aerial trams swaying gently in gale-force winds; to exotic treehouses perched above warm oceans; to snow-capped peaks where hairy little monkeys bathe in hot springs (yay, now I sound like J Peterman copy!)

Here’s a link to the origins of that storyline on SEINFELD, if you’re interested:

Parenting Vlog Question: Dealing with Kids’ Tantrums– and Your Own Tantrums

14 Wednesday Dec 2011

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My first vlog question, courtesy of reader Lizzie Ann!

How do you keep a 2-year-old from pitching a fit when she doesn’t get what she wants…more importantly, how do I keep myself from pitching a fit when I don’t get what I want?

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