Tales of Ridiculosity

Today something stupid happened. It began innocently enough, at 11:00AM. I let the dog out and she immediately started to bark. Incessantly. Fearing the complaints of unhappy neighbours I yanked open the sliding glass door and began to shout at her to shut up. Having no success with matching her noise with my own (who would have thought yelling wouldn't stop another creature from also yelling?), I grumpily yanked on my husband's over sized boots sitting by the door and ran out to grab her.
Now here's where things get stupid. October, up in my neck of the woods, is cold. At this point of the month the leaves have long since fallen from the trees, and more often than not you'll see the kids trick or treating in winter coats and snow boots with barely visible costumes underneath. So, of course I slid the door shut behind me to prevent valuable heat from escaping. Having convinced Maddie (my dog) to stay quiet, I returned to the door and gave it a hard yank, anxious to return to the warm innards of my house. Nothing. I yanked again, frowning. It was stuck. I stared through the glass at the lock handle that had fallen into position when I'd closed the door behind me. I was locked out.
Fighting down panic, I took a deep breath. I had no phone, I was wearing my husband's giant boots and had no leash for Maddie. Therefore, walking to my sister's was out. My husband was in a class and wouldn't be home until sometime after 12:00. I walked (well, more accurately I stomped. It was impossible not to in those boots) over to my neighbours. After several rings and no response I realized I was sunk. Until they, or my husband came home I wasn't going anywhere.
Returning to the backyard, I assessed my options. I needed to stay warm. Luckily, I was wearing a long sleeved, hooded sweater. Which was good, because unfortunately my hair was still very wet from my shower. I pulled the hood over my head to cover my hair. I was also very lucky to have such a sheltered backyard, with high fences and plenty of tree cover, which meant very minimal wind. Really, it wasn't too bad.
I needed an activity that would keep me warm and help pass the time. I opened the tiny metal shed in the corner of the yard and pulled out the rake. I guess there was no time like the present to rake up the obscene amount of leaves decorating our backyard.
I worked my butt off, raking leaves and throwing sticks for the dog until the yard was spotless, except for two neatly raked, gigantic piles. The entire time I kept my ears trained for the sound of my husband's car, desperate to hear the delicious honk as he pressed the lock button a ridiculous amount of times 'just to make sure'. I kept thinking of one of the lines in a prayer we all use to repeat in church. "As we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ." I was waiting in joyful hope all right.
When I finally heard my husband's car pull up, I almost couldn't believe it. I'd just finished with the raking and was feeling particularly full of despair at the thought of nothing to do but wait. I was like a deer, cautiously stepping towards the fence, anxious not to get my hopes up. But I didn't have to worry. It was him! He was home! I ran (or rather, clomped) down the walkway, leaping into the arms of my saviour.
As you can now tell, I'm obviously safe and back inside where I belong. I still feel rather dumb, and have vowed to take the phone with me every time I go to grab the dog from here on in. Because next time, it could be snowing.

There's a Reason Why Productive People Don't Watch TV

I have a headache tonight, and I know exactly what caused it. Whenever I watch too much TV (more than an hour or two), I always wind up with a headache. I've been completely headache free for my entire week off until tonight, mostly because I've been trying to be productive. You'd think the incessant headaches would teach me to get off my lazy ass and do something with my life, but no. I'm positively addicted to my beloved shows. Yes, from Castle and The Mentalist to The Big Bang Theory and Happy Endings, my TV shows just cannot go unwatched.
But, as I sit here with a throbbing skull, I can't help but think I'm being punished for sliding back into my lazy ways. Therefore, I've decided to keep my TV watching in check, and spend the rest of my vacation as I pronounced I would on the first day. No more headaches, lots more productivity. Not to mention I prefer having something to show for my time other than the unrelenting urge to take a power drill to my forehead.

Success at Last!

Yesterday I finally managed to put on a pair of false eyelashes. As it turns out, all it took was a lot of practice, a few swears and trimming them so they weren't too long for my eyes. Oops. That might have been a larger part of my lack of success. (Insert bashful laughter here). In any case, I'm just happy to have accomplished something, however minor.
I'm starting to get annoyed with my lack of writing success. Over the last two days I should have produced a large amount of workable material, and I honestly don't feel I have much to show. It's embarrassing. There really aren't enough hours in the day. Although I guess if I cut out the false eyelash applying part of the day I'd have a little more time for literary pursuits. Whatever. I needed a win! And man, did I look awesome. Those babies were crazy long, cut on an angle so the longest lashes were in the outer corners of the eyes. And it helped that no one asked if I was crazy or wearing false eyelashes. I had to tell my hair stylist and she didn't believe me at first. Double win! Now if I could just get something worthwhile accomplished...

Day Two

I've decided to proclaim day two a success. Not only did I steer clear of couch and TV induced zombie-ism, I actually got some stuff done. Not a lot, but enough.
I'm happy to say that I started my day off writing. After a long, restful sleep I got up and ate my breakfast with an open notebook, instead of in front of the TV as usual. After breakfast I worked on my writing assignment for my online writing class, showered, made lunch and walked the dog. When I got home Maddie and I did some yard work in the backyard, followed by some spirited tag and stick throwing. With Maddie passed out on the couch I was free to go to the grocery store. When I got home I started dinner - Baked Pumpkin Ziti. Delicious!
Now I'm doing laundry and after this post I'm going to make my husband's lunch for tomorrow. That's right, I'm channeling my inner domestic diva.
I realize of course that none of this is of any interest to you, I'm merely demonstrating that I managed to knock a few items off the To Do list. In other words, I'm bragging.
Tomorrow I have a haircut and I'd like to do some shopping, but I want to concentrate most of my time and energy on writing. After my vacation's over I'm going to be lethargic, depressed and probably pretty stressed out. I want to take as much off my plate as possible. The greatest gift I could give myself would be a new job, but we'll have to see how that goes.

Time to Get Down to Business

Is it possible to be both super excited and kind of depressed at the same time? If so that's me.
Why am I excited? Because I have the next week off.
Why am I depressed? Because I have the next week off.
I know, it's weird right? But hear me out.
First off, I'm excited. I get time off work, which I sorely needed. I get to buckle down and get all my current writing assignments done, catch up on sleep, reading, cleaning and spend some quality time with my pooch. I'm also planning on using the time to go on a mad search for a new job, so keep your fingers crossed for me!
But I'm also depressed. When this vacation is over, I have nothing to look forward to. Literally, nothing. There are no more vacations, no relief in sight. If I don't find a better paying job I'm stuck in retail hell working through yet another (shudder) Christmas season. It's a little upsetting how much working retail destroys Christmas. You think it's bad being one of the shoppers? Trying being the person at the till. It's a nightmare. You thought you were sick of Christmas music last year? Try listening to it eight hours a day, five days a week since November 1st. It sucks all the joy out of your heart and replaces it with a big ball of bitter. Hence, the mad hunt for a new job.
I'm trying not to let it bother me. This is my vacation. I can be depressed when it's over. I know that if I just concentrate on getting all my stuff done and making the most of it, then at least I can hold onto my sense of triumph when I get back. I can soothe myself with accolades of a job well done. So hold onto your hats, I'm about to take this vacation by storm!

Wisdom Teeth

Today, my sister had her wisdom teeth removed. She'd resisted the idea for years, but recently they'd grown (literally) rather painful and momentary awfulness became more appealing than a lifetime of irritating. It was necessary for her to be put under for the procedure, so I was called off the bench and into action. I took the day off work to drive her to and from the appointment, pick up her prescriptions and just take care of her in general. Luckily, our very good friend was also free and volunteered to come along and help. I'll admit, at the time I didn't think I'd need the help, I was mostly just grateful for the extra company in the waiting room. As it turned out, her help was not only appreciated but necessary. It's surprisingly difficult to negotiate a semi-conscious individual into a car, at least it would have been alone. With help - easy! The same went with dropping off and picking up her prescriptions, getting her in bed and keeping her company. All was a better with help.
The fact that I'm smug and should never assume that I won't require assistance wasn't the only lesson of the day. Today I realized with abundant clarity that I would make a complete basket case of a mom. It's true, I've never wanted kids and I'm still repelled by the idea, and it's also true that I'm a complete basket case over the care of my dog, Maddie. But the extent of my worry and fear showed itself today in the waiting room of the oral surgeon's. Watching my sister, clearly terrified, get up and follow the nurse into the unknown brought the sincere threat of tears to my eyes. Anxiety and panic took over as I began feverishly texting everyone I could think of to say a prayer for her. My friend had to calm me down in the waiting room as I lamented over the horror that they'd have to stick my darling sister with a needle for the IV. Keep in mind this is how I reacted over a routine oral surgery for my adult sister. Imagine me with a baby. Not pretty.
Yes, today was an interesting day. My sister is recuperating, and now without wisdom teeth, I'm relieved that it's over and happy that she's safely home, as well as grateful that I don't have children and my sanity remains intact. As for anyone out there who would feel the need to comment and suggest that I should have children - save it. My wisdom teeth may be gone, but my wisdom remains. Not going to happen.

Tolstoy and Fake Eyelashes

It's amazing how one can be both enlightened and an idiot at the same time. Take myself for example. Lately, I've been broadening my horizons. I'm taking writing courses, had a recent phone interview with an accomplished female Canadian involved in working to better women's health and stop social injustice, and I've even begun reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy.
But, before I come across too cocky, you should know that I spent the better part of yesterday watching Merlin on Netflix, a show so unbelievably bad I wait until my husband is out and the curtains are closed so no one will see my shameful enjoyment of something so tacky and ridiculous. That's not even to say that I enjoy it, which is probably even sadder. The more accurate description would be that I'm bored and have run out of everything else. But that's not all. My idiocy extends further than a mere inaccurate and poorly executed fantasy show about an awkward teenage wizard (oh Lord the shame!). Lately I've been experiencing an unusual amount of delight in false eyelashes. With Halloween around the corner I've been on the lookout for some seriously wicked false eyelashes. I've been perusing drug stores, Halloween costume shops and even online eyelash boutiques. What I didn't think about is that I have yet to put a pair on. So, a few days ago when I pulled out a set and went about applying them, I was surprised to realize that it's a lot harder than I thought it'd be. Not quite 'glued my eyes shut' bad, but I have yet to successfully wear a pair of falsies.
Which brings me to my point. Here I am, an adult woman reading Tolstoy and conversing with a Phd carrying social activist, while at the same time watching seriously uninspired television and playing with false eyelashes. I'm a walking contradiction. I'm part idiot, part intellectual. I guess it's better than being all idiot. And you have to admit, people that are too seriously intellectual are often pretty boring or snobby. (No one enjoys being seated at the boring accountant side of the dinner table). I think I'm just going to appreciate having a humble, false eyelash wearing side, and continue to develop my more intellectual Tolstoy loving side. If there's one thing I've learned in this life, it's that balance is important. Everything in moderation. It works with nutrition and it works with everything else.

Am I the Only One?

Lately my personal essay class is throwing me for a complete loop. There's one thing I've discovered through all of the assignments, the instructor's comments and critiques and my research into possible markets and that's this: I'm the odd man out.
I love personal essays. I find them entertaining, engaging; they're my favourite part of magazines. But here's the thing. I hate the serious ones. You know the ones where they probe deep into their experiences, are super emotional and look at every angle of their actions and what it means to them and their growth as a person? Yeah. I hate those. I love the funny ones where they make fun of their quirks or sass the Nintendo Wii's 'Wii Fit' for calling them fat. They're hilarious and I love them. Unfortunately, that is not what my class is about, and that's not what 99% of publications look for. So, when it came to finding markets for my essay, I found myself coming up consistently short.
Am I alone in this? Am I the only one that prefers the light and funny when it comes to personal essays? Hello? Anyone out there? Calling all those sarcastic and witty...

Submit! Submit! Submit!

It's been a while since I posted and I apologize, but honestly you'd be very proud of me. Over the last week I've made a valiant (and successful!) effort of dedicating my free time to writing and meeting my various deadlines. My personal essay class is still going very well, with our latest class focusing on the art of submitting your work. It's all about editing and appraising. First of all, getting your draft into the best possible shape before even considering sending it out, and secondly, appraising all possible venues that might fit with your piece. It's important to really look into each venue, reading several pieces from the section you're interested in submitting to and making sure your essay fits in terms of style and tone.
All this talk of submissions got me thinking, and I realized I've really let the ball drop on my own submissions. There are so many contests and open calls for submissions that I need to be taking advantage of. It's true that I won't win any of these contests, or get picked up for publication right away, but treating each deadline as a work or assignment deadline means I'll actually force myself to get some writing done. And the more you practice, the better you get. So far I've made three deadlines and I couldn't be more excited. I'm having fun with all the writing I'm doing and every time I finish a challenge I look forward to the next one. Only time will tell if my personal essay class actually leads to an essay of mine getting published, but so far I've really enjoyed the experience and the kick in the pants its given me to treat deadlines seriously.

Word on the Street

I had to work today. This was upsetting more than in the usual way for two specific reasons. First of all, it was gorgeous out and who knows how many beautiful days we have left. Second of all and more importantly, today was the Word on the Street. For one amazing day, a small side street downtown was transformed into a bustling marketplace of authors, book sellers, publishers, food vendors, poets and people. People who love books. And I'm one of those people. I was supposed to be bustling about with the rest of them, listening to all the authors give readings, buying books and getting them signed, saturating myself in an atmosphere of creativity and the mutual love of books. Instead, I stood in a severely uncomfortable pair of shoes behind a makeup counter, helping shallow people feel good about themselves.
I realize of course that I'm being particularly harsh. After all, I love makeup and skincare so if anything, I'm as shallow as the next person. But I wanted to be out there, nay - needed to be out there. I needed the electric buzz of being around all those authors, to feel the intense longing to be one of them so that I could go home, set myself in front of my computer and write with all the energy and verve of a truly inspired person.
I did manage to sneak out during my lunch hour. I only had time for one reading, but I knew exactly who I wanted to hear. Alice Kuipers. My beloved Writer in Residence. Just being in the same tent with her for half an hour made me feel better, more creative. Her work was incredible. I'm not lying when I say she's incredibly talented. She writes Young Adult novels, but honestly they're an incredible read. I highly recommend you read her work. It's fantastic. For that short half hour, I forgot about work. I forgot that I make a ridiculously tiny wage and more often than not want to bang my head on the counter over what a failure I am. Instead, I felt powerful. I felt capable. I wanted to find a quiet spot and write. Write anything!
It really was a gorgeous day today. And as I walked back to work, feet pinched and mangled horribly by my wretched shoes, I breathed deep. It was crazy hot out, sweating like a pig hot out, but all the leaves were turning. It's fall. And although summer may be ending, the trees and greenery dying for another year, it felt like a beginning. A fresh start. Like something great is just around the corner.
That is, of course, until I got back to work, was bored and tired with feet screaming to be let out of their shoes and once again began banging my head against the counter.

Zombie Nightmare #2

Well, it's 4:00AM and I just had another zombie nightmare. That makes two nights in a row. I guess I better finish that book.

Zombie Nightmares

What would you do in a zombie apocalypse? Where would you go? How would you survive?
I've just started reading Alison Hewitt is Trapped, a Zombie Novel by Madeleine Roux. It stars Allison Hewitt, who's caught at work in a book store when the zombie apocalypse begins. She manages to write a blog throughout her ordeal, making use of an emergency network.
It's a really great read, but here's the thing: I just started reading it yesterday and early this morning I already had a long, involved nightmare about a zombie apocalypse. When I woke up all I could do was sigh. I'm probably going to have a zombie nightmares every night until I finish the book.
That's the thing about my subconscious, it's as impressionable as a small child. Zombies especially tend to stick close to the surface, rising up after even the smallest exposure. Maybe because after seeing as many zombie movies as I have, you begin to think it might actually happen.
And if it did, what would you do?
Where would you go?
How would you survive?

Need More Energy

It's possible I bit off more than I can chew. This morning at 11:48 I was busily writing a one thousand word essay for my writing class... that was due at noon. It was my third attempt at an essay, having started to write two others before getting fed up and discarding them. I also really need to concentrate on hammering out my assignments for the HerStory Calendar (my new gig!), as I really don't want to leave it to the last minute. My full time job is definitely getting in the way though, as is my other part time job and my desire to spend time with my husband, dog and friends. Sigh. I need way more energy.
I've been reading I Don't Know How She Does It by Allison Pearson and frankly, I think it's stressing me out. The main character is a mother with a high powered, crazy stressful job in an office with sexist, chauvinistic brats. Being inside her head is so depressing and stressful that I find myself completely angst ridden. I guess that's a testament to the skillfulness of the writing.
I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by it all, I just wish I had more energy. I feel like I could hibernate for months. Maybe some wheat grass shots are in order. In any case I have to figure out something. I'm so tired I can barely hold my head up to write this.

Writing Class!

This past Wednesday night I officially started my new writing class with mediabistro (FYI: great resource for writers). It's a personal essay class, online, that lasts eight delicious weeks. I'm so excited! Eight weeks of encouragement, constructive criticism and inspiration. What could be better?
I'm especially excited by our first assignment, a 500-750 word essay on a specific moment in which we realized something new about ourselves. I already wrote one but I think I'm going to write another, my first one is a little bland. It's just so much fun to be challenged! I can't wait to turn it in and get some feedback (a little scared too, I'll admit). But the main thing is, learning is progress, and I could do with some progress. It's been a little too long since I've seen some progress. I'm a goal orientated person, and floating aimlessly just isn't my bag. Or, to be more specific, it is way too much my bag. When I have a specific goal and steps I can take to accomplish it, I work feverishly. Without direction, I'm a lazy coach potato that spends her days and evenings watching things like Burn Notice, True Blood and Drop Dead Diva. Hmmm, I could probably find a better use for my time.
Luckily, I have and I couldn't be more excited about it. Perfect timing too. September, the official back to school time, although this time it will be to a school I actually enjoy and get something out of. I never thought I'd say those words again. In any case, it should be a lot of fun and I'll be sure to fill you in on my progress. (Whether you care or not is none of my concern).

The Art of Improvement

Normally, I really don't enjoy "how to improve your writing" articles. I prefer articles on finding inspiration, finding a good editor, an agent, etc. The How To articles are often bland and general without any really valuable advice. It's just too general to be that helpful. I prefer one on one advice based on specific pieces of my writing. However, I did find an article on the Writer's Digest website that is positively loaded with great advice. Even if you only take one pointer you further ahead than when you started, so have a look.
25 Ways to Improve Your Writing in 30 Minutes a Day

Mystery Solved

Well, the dog and I are doing much better today and the mystery of how Maddie got sick in the first place was solved last night when my husband discovered her eating from the garbage (a banana peel to be specific).
Our Maddie is a sneaky creature, so we don't even keep our garbage in the kitchen anymore. We keep it in the office where we can close the door and completely deny her access to it. Unfortunately, my husband is absentminded and has been forgetting to close the door, which resulted in a mischievous dog sneaking bites of garbage. Ugh. So, now I've been careful to close doors after my distracted husband and keeping a close eye on my mischievous dog. A mom's work is never done.

Like Puppy, Like Mommy

Yesterday, my husband and I both had the day off. This is a startlingly rare occurrence so we decided it should be 'date day'. Unfortunately, I woke up congested with a sore throat. I thought I could shake it off, but after lunch, my cold also developed a headache, and then stomach and joint pain were added to the mix. Today I have a full fledged flu (there's an interesting word combo) and I'm stuck on the couch in my jammies, watching tv while trying to coax down some liquids. But I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about my dog.
Maddie's life thus far has been riddled with bumps in the road in regards to her health. My baby has a delicate stomach, prone to long and trying bouts with diarrhea and when she was only eight months old she was subjected to major surgery after ingesting some kind of rag or towel. I still haven't the faintest clue as to how she managed to eat it without my noticing. I am, after all, a truly overbearing mommy. I worry constantly and I always have my eye on her. Well, last night as I alternated between shaking like a leaf and sweating buckets on the couch, Maddie lay on the rug at my feet. She seemed perfectly fine until out of nowhere she threw up. I'd hoped she'd just eaten something that upset her tummy, but this morning she has the runs, and she hasn't had the runs for months now. To make matters worse, I think I saw a little blood in it. Now I'm terrified. Maddie is like my child, her health is my number one priority. I'm still hoping that it's minor and she simply ate something disagreeable. But let's just say my own symptoms aren't my number one priority at the moment.

Halloween is Coming!

What do you do when you hate your job, but there's still a bunch of stuff you want to buy there? Do you stay and wait until you've purchased everything you like (however long that takes), do you quit, suck it up and buy things at full price. or do you buy everything you want in one big swoop and then quit? I don't know what to do.
I promised myself I wouldn't still be at the furniture store at Christmas, but last night we had a staff meeting. Not only did they have out all the Halloween stuff, but during the course of the meeting they showed us a sneak peek of the upcoming Christmas merchandise. I'm fairly certain it was all a convoluted plot to keep me from quitting. (Don't worry, I'm being sarcastic. I'm not that delusional. If retail stores really didn't want their staff to quit, they'd pay better. As it is, they don't and we're all replaceable. I accept that.)
Every year the same thing happens. As summer nears its end (and I cry myself to sleep every night at the prospect of another long, bitterly cold winter), retail stores begin bringing out their Halloween merchandise. And a funny thing happens. Like a child who's lost their balloon, but forgets it immediately at the prospect of an ice cream cone, I too completely forget that summer is leaving and focus on Halloween. It's not until Halloween is over that I remember once again that summer has left me, but luckily the Christmas season is there to distract me. Of course, in January there's no longer anything fun to focus on and the bitterness of winter slowly beats the joy out of me as I wait for spring.
Anyway, getting back to Halloween, last night at the staff meeting I barely heard a thing. All I could do was stare at the Halloween decorations, plots for Halloween dinner parties and haunted houses filling my head. I love Halloween. The costumes, the decor, the candy. I love taking the dismal emptiness of fall and turning it into a spooky wonderland. Honestly, it makes me wish I had more friends. I'd love to throw an epic, gigantic Halloween bash, but I"m a small circle of friends kind of person. So instead I focus on intimate, spooky dinner parties. And this year (if I can convince my husband) I'd love to buy nearly everything from the furniture store's Halloween decor and throw a fabulously haunted dinner party. Yes, that would keep thoughts of a long winter firmly banished from my brain.

A Bad Day with a Sweet Aftertaste

I had kind of a crappy day today. First, when I left for work I forgot my lunch, only remembering when I was too far away to turn around. Then, completely distracted by the fact that I would have to eat lousy food court food, I parked my car in a pay parking lot and marched into work without remembering to buy a ticket. By the time I remembered, it was three hours later and I'd already been awarded a thirty five dollar fine for my absent mindedness. Taking that into consideration with my less than stellar sales for the day and subsequent boredom and it added up to a really lousy day. That is, until afterward.
When work was finally done for the day I raced out to my car, exhilaration giving me new energy. I was going for coffee with a dear friend of mine. Sitting in that coffee shop, laughing and chatting with her, all the stress and irritation of the day melted away. Honestly? It was hard to say goodbye and go home afterward.
Sometimes there's only one way to get rid of the bitter taste of a bad day. And that's to chase it with something sweet. And so, I sit at home now, about to go to bed and I feel good. I feel peaceful and ready to face another day tomorrow. Although I'll definitely be parking somewhere else.

To Fix or Not to Fix?

Last week, on my epic Tuesday 'Writing Day', I made a startling and unpleasant discovery. As some of you may know, I finished the (very) rough draft of my novel at the end of May. My plan was to spend the summer editing it myself before getting it professionally edited. Unfortunately, that hasn't gone exactly according to plan. Truth be told, I've done a pitifully small amount of work on it thus far. Well, I decided to turn it all around and use my epic writing day to give it a thorough read through, making notes as I went along. About midway through the book I set it down, a frown of dismay plastered on my face.
To fully relate my discovery, I will now delve into deep metaphor (prepare yourselves). If you've ever bought a house, or went looking for one, you've probably toured a fixer upper. You did your walk through, horrified at the abysmal decor, realizing that it needs a ton of renovations. Despite the unfathomable design choices of the previous owners, you begin to see the charms underneath and decide that with a lot of hard work, elbow grease, and a little love it could really be something. It could be amazing.
You put in a bid and get a building inspection and wait for the verdict. When the building inspector comes through and finishes his inspection, he hands you his assessment. There's structural damage. Not only does it need a complete face lift but the bones underneath aren't good.
Now it's decision time. Do you want to take on such a massive, time-intensive and possibly unresolvable project? Or, do you walk away and find something that doesn't need so much work?
This is exactly how I feel about my book. I was prepared for it to be bad, horrible actually. I was prepared to take on massive edits (and it needs it), but as it turns out I have major issues with the plot. And now I have to decide if I want to stick with it, tear it down to the roots and rebuild, or walk away and start a whole new project. What's a gal to do?