Out and About (but not in a boat)

[mrissa]

1. The bank sign said it was 108 F. I did not say, "You are mad! Surely you are joking! It could not possibly be 108 F!" I believed every last degree of it. (That's 42 C for those of you who think in that system.) If markgritter is not well enough, I will walk the dog again tonight, because the dog needs walking every day, rain, shine, snow, sleet, and *gulp* 108 F. (Probably it will have cooled to 103 F after supper, though.) And I will do it in my bikini top like I did yesterday, because that is what God made bikini tops for, and I don't care if I shock another old lady in the car who looked like markgritter's paternal grandmother, and I don't care if I startle another set of black kids in the park who, day-umm, didn't know they made people that white, and I don't care if more people hang out their car windows to issue their commentary about me and my bikini top. (But not, I am sad to note, my hat. Which is very fetching. I assure you.) Because walking down the sidewalk between Hallmark and B&N was entirely too hot for a shirt, say nothing of an entire dog-length walk.

2. I tried the "double chocolate chip frappuccino" at B&N because I was there to spend a birthday gift card, and someone had said B&N made a good iced chocolate, and I thought this might be what they meant. Um, no. It was not; or if it was, we have different definitions of what is good in iced chocolate. Because they had apparently called it "chocolate chip" because they had noticed that it was extremely gritty, so they decided to make a virtue of a necessity. To attempt a virtue of a necessity, at least. I had four sips of it. Then I threw it away, because drinking any more of it would have been more of a waste of my mouth than throwing it away was a waste of drink. (The waste of money was irrelevant: the money had already been wasted, and nothing I could do would call it back.)

3. Here is how the gift card spending process went:
Rational Brain: We could wait awhile to get the other Yolen/Stemple book.
Little Voice: The flap says it has butterheads in.
RB: It's the same price as two mass-market paperbacks.
LV: Butterheads.
RB: And it's not even as long as an average one, so that's less than half the reading.
LV: Butterheads!
RB: And we just read one of theirs recently, and variety is good.
LV: BUTTERHEADS!

This is the same little voice that prompted me to write and sell the short story "Butterhead" to begin with. It's a scary little voice. So I am now the proud owner of Troll Bridge, and the little voice will maybe shut up for another couple of years, and I am happy despite the heat and the utter failure of the chocolate-chip frappywhatsit, and I will now delete everything that used to be Lucy's first letter to Edward, because I finally figured out the problem: it was Laura's first letter to Edward instead. But she's not Laura any more, she's Lucy, and the letter has to be completely different despite containing all the same information.

Do not change your characters' names, is what I'm telling you. It will come back to bite your butt. (Of course, having her still be Laura would be far, far worse.)

But at least I know what to do, and that makes me happy.

Comments

[dancinghorse.livejournal.com]

Not that we really want our 108 degrees back, but we can spare a few inches of rain and about 10 degrees of cooling if you want it.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yes, please.

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

I have a terrible time changing characters' names. I can think of three occasions when I've done it after starting a story. In one, the character's name accidentally became a terrible and unforeseen pun; therefore it had to go. In another, I'd written down a name that sounded neat a very long time ago, put it into a book, and then discovered it was the name of a fairly important historical figure. in the third, I wanted to get started on a short story and the MC wouldn't give me her name; I stuck one on her anyway, and three paragraphs in she relented and told me what to call her.

[stillsostrange.livejournal.com]

I hate changing characters' names. I hate it even more when five of them all want to be named Simon. Or Alex.

[pieslut.livejournal.com]

It is 108F in Minnesota?
Woah, Nelly.

[warinbear.livejournal.com]

And I will do it in my bikini top like I did yesterday, because that is what God made bikini tops for

Well, I can sort of see their point if that were all you were wearing to walk the dog. <grin>

108F is a bit high for me, too, but I've long preferred summer over winter in general, because the scenery is so much nicer. I used to drive an in-town delivery route that took me through Vanderbilt campus . . . <happymemorysigh>

[lutin.livejournal.com]

pssh.

boats are a wonderful way to be about.
especially in sunshine & wind.


& laura/edward reminds me of the secret
country, so maybe it is just as well. i'm
sorry you're melting. we're finally not, here.

[angeyja.livejournal.com]

But at least I know what to do, and that makes me happy.

ah very good, that last. You can presume a compliment on the hat from here.

I have dragons, and dragon hoard, and a mermaid with scales falling away as she draws wings on the sand of the beach (sketch) and limeade, and a windtunnel of fans and a handful of agates that look like the seas but want to be a Brisingamen again. Could be worse. ;)

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Can I have the title "The Sea Wants to be Brisingamen" for my very own?

Indeed, could be worse!

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Boats are indeed a wonderful way to be out and about. But I'm not. And if I was, it wouldn't have gotten me books. And also today it would be too hot to be out on a lake. So.

(The phrase "out and about in a boat" is a good way to demonstrate whether the speaker has a Canadian or Northern-Middle US accent. See also "float your boat with your goat," or if you want to be really silly, "float your boat with your goat and your stoat.")

Oh, and it's definitely all for the best that she's no longer Laura, because Laura was somebody different. I thought I was changing just her name and couldn't say why, but now I see it's because she wasn't Laura. Very simple.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

And you can't call them Bald Simon and Forkbeard Simon and Simon the Poet and Simon the Conjurer and Simon the Alex?

No, I do see why not. Sigh.

[dd-b.livejournal.com]

I think your bank is exaggerating. At least none of the official readings reported around the area have gone over 100 yet that I can find.

I notice that this was the day in 1988 that hit 105. Pamela and I were living in the Minnehaha Ave. house, and I was contracting at Network Systems, and the GTI was fairly new and its air-conditioner worked pretty well. So we did not die, but the upstairs was too hot and the downstairs was too cold even with all the vents downstairs closed and blocked and the stairway door closed or mostly closed. (Cats interfere considerably with sensible management of airflow.)

Actually I think there were two days, but this was one of them anyway.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

The only other time I really remember is when I had named a minor character Lord Rumsfeld just before Donald Rumsfeld attained his unfortunate national prominence. I changed it because while I sometimes approve of a political slant on stories, I absolutely did not want this particular story to be a commentary on the Bush administration, particularly not a lame and half-assed commentary on the Bush administration. So he became Lord Ransfield.

[angeyja.livejournal.com]

Yes.

:)

[one-undone.livejournal.com]

According to Desktop Weather's reading of it, the top temp I spied on my taskbar today was 103 F. I think that's done by ZIP code, but not certain. I know it was reading 100 F when Dylan begged me to allow him to play in the yard at 7:05 p.m.

We've had to run the central air at 70 all night lately to get the house sufficiently cold that the temp stays cool enough during the day. Until we started doing so, even with the air set to 72 or 73, the thermostat said my living room was 77 degrees, even with all the ceiling fans on. This is ridiculous. =/

[one-undone.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry, but what is a butterhead?

Compelling, apparently. But what else?

[timprov.livejournal.com]

One of these (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:MNStateFairButterHead2005.jpg).

[one-undone.livejournal.com]

Good Lord, I was not prepared for the sight that awaited me when I clicked that link! That was...actually rather revolting. I was thinking they might be like fiddleheads of ferns and have something to do with plants, then I considered maybe they were some fictional race since she mentioned trolls, but I never thought they were likenesses of people's heads literally made of butter. And there are BOOKS about them? Yeek!

[(Anonymous)]

101 at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I don't know about books -- I know of this one and a short story I wrote ages ago -- even the reprint was published ages ago -- and nothing else. If anyone can contradict me, I'd love to hear of others.

After the Fair is over, Princess Kay and her court get their butterheads to keep. We went to college with a Princess Kay, and she said they put it in the freezer and carved off hunks of her head for Thanksgiving and Christmas and the like.

I love this state.

[one-undone.livejournal.com]

I was so freaked out by the picture of the butterhead, I woke Jason and told him about it when I came to bed last night. He laughed at me and said, "oh, those are butterheads? You mean Princess Kay of the Milky Way?" and I just looked at him with what I'm sure was that look people get when they're in a scary movie and they realize their husband has already been turned into one of the brain-eating monsters. I was shocked that he wasn't creeped by the butterhead. I said, "But it was BUTTER, and it was WEARING A TIARA! And it had this frozen giant smile and glassy eyes and was just the scariest thing," but I was not able to explain to him why butterheads are creepy.

I think it would be kind of gross, in theory, to eat your head carved of butter, and offer it to others to eat, like some bizarre butter sacrifice. :P

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Do you want to read the short story I wrote on this subject? It will at least reassure you that you are not the only one finding the subject creepy. markgritter went around slurping and shuddering for days after he read it.

[one-undone.livejournal.com]

I would be delighted to read it! I'm at least extremely curious to read it now :-D

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

It is winging its way to your inbox. I should probably think of putting it up on my website, since I've already sold the reprint once.