Jennifer Crusie | Argh Ink | Blog

It’s the day before I leave for National, and I am scattered all over the house, much like the stuff I must pack. All I have to do is get packed, get the car loaded and get myself on the road Monday, but there’s so much stuff to do first, so much stuff to find, that I’m overwhelmed. Focus, I need focus.

I have lost Krissie’s present. It was sitting in the kitchen in this darling gift bag for the past two months and then something happened to it. Probably me. Krissie will not mind since she has the Pig coming her way, but I mind. Damn.

My new favorite phrase is “word salad,” incoherent ramblings that appear to be just words tossed together. As in, “I made a word salad in Princeton.” Argh.

I am a puppy buzzkill. Milton and Veronica like things that are small and rubbery that they can chew tiny pieces off of. I like my dogs alive. So any time they get anything particularly good, I take it away from them. They have many toys, soft toys without small plastic parts, toys that squeak realistically as they are attacked–nature red in tooth and dachshund–but what they really want is something that will destroy their digestive systems. The last thing I took away from them was the squeaker from the lamb they destroyed. It must have been wonderful–they ripped out the heart and the heart still squeaked–but it was not to be. I restuffed the lamb and sewed it back up, but without its heartrending screams, they’re not that interested. They’re ripping up kleenex from the wastebasket now. It’s a mess but it’s not lethal.

When Krissie was here, she tried to set up my GPS system and managed to program in some Krogers store that’s 200 miles away. So wherever I went, the system kept offering me U-turns because I wasn’t taking the long road to my groceries. I managed to figure that out, but now my DVR says “Krissie” at the top, no matter who’s chosen the recorded program. Personally, I think she should just move in .

After four years of trying to figure out the MacGuffin in You Again, I have come to the conclusion that Bob was right two years ago: it’s the house. I am never going to hear the end of this.

I have two little girls in my house now. I gave the youngest one a dog puppet kit the other day–a white paper bag with stickers for eyes and ears–and she looked at me with amazement in her big eyes and said, “This is the best day EVER!” I need to find that enthusiasm again for myself. And if I can’t, I’ll just keep giving Sweetness and Light puppet kits and live off theirs. Because as it turns out, when I gave Light a Hello Kitty puzzle, it was the best day EVER, and when we found a bird book that had a paper bird we could put together, it was the best day EVER, so now her mother and I are just abbreviating it: “This is the BDE!”

The speech at Thurber House was not only fun–Thurber House is always fun, plus brownies–but since I had to get my thoughts about AKMG together to give it, it was also really helpful. Plus, the first scene is a drag which I realized as I read it, and that was after I cut a quarter of it. The problem is, I’m trying to give the reader things I want her to know instead of the things she wants to know. Yes, I believe I have mentioned this in my lectures. Do as I say, not as I do. Although I’m going to cut all that stuff now.

My new BFF is Gail Hogan of NBC 4. I’ve done a lot of TV interviews, but she was the best, definitely on top of everything and so much fun to boot. Plus she’s going to be my source for the whack job TV reporter in AKMG. Who is not based on Gail Hogan. At the moment I’m watching Nancy Grace, but I’m sure she’ll become her own character. Although Nancy Grace is fascinating. My fave moment so far is when she asked her flunky for rape stats and he gave her lacrosse stats.

Thank you to all who recommended Bare Minerals and the Philosophy skin stuff. When I got home from Columbus, Lani looked at me and said, “Your makeup still looks good.” Since I’d been singing and dancing since four in the stuff and it was then after eleven, that’s a testimony. Also it’s easy to use. We watched the DVD tonight and there’s a place where you have to draw the line. For me, it was when the CEO solemnly explained that their special nighttime powder came from “virgin earth.” Evidently they follow unicorns to find it. But we both liked the Philosophy moisturizer, so we’re making progress toward full womanhood here.

Did you hear about the Oregon bunny lady? It’s not every day that you read about somebody slapped with a restraining order that forbids her to go within a hundred yards of a rabbit. I feel for her, I really do, I can see how you’d lose your grip over small, furry creatures–says the woman who has three dachshunds asleep on her bed right now–but at the same time . . . a restraining order. Those rabbits must have had some lawyer.

I have decided that I’m spending the rest of my life in sundresses. They’re comfortable, they look pretty good given my generally disastrous shape, and they all look like the stuff I wore when I was 19. Also, they swish when I walk. Perfect, especially since this year, they’re everywhere. I’ll just put on sweaters in the winter. And swish through the snow.

Thought for the day: I’m going to have to wheel that Pig through the lobby of the Wardman. Oh, well, it’s not like I had a reputation for elegance to being with.

The junk in my car is of much higher quality since the girls arrived. I cleaned it out just now to pack it and found hot pink sunglasses, a Steak N Shake cap, and a sparkly blue headband. Sadly, none of that was mine.

I have seen some of Krissie’s costumes for National, and I’m packing gold yarn to embellish others. Krissie will have no problem wheeling the Pig through the lobby of the Wardman on Sunday.

Must go find my gold lace shawl, my black sandals, Krissie’s present, my pajamas, and some clean underwear. One damn thing after another.