F³A: Divorce Class

So, when you go for the big "D" in Washington state (and other states I suppose) you have to take a mandatory four hour parenting class (thankfully we didn't have a group of stupid question askers [yes, Virginia, there is such thing as a stupid question] and our instructors wanted to get home as badly as we did, so it was only three hours).

And while the class was somewhat entertaining (reasons to follow) I'm not sure I got much out of it.  Why you ask? Okay, maybe you didn't, but I'm going to tell you anyway.  First off, most the folks in the class had kids under the age of 6, which is true in most divorce cases I suppose, but which also means, most the curriculum is younger kids based. 


The curriculum also seemed geared toward parents that hated and wanted to disparage each other in front of their children.  The girl's father and I get along really good.  We don't speak harshly about one another.  We know that the other is a good parent even though we didn't work. We would never think of downing each other in front of the kids or trying to turn them against the other.


Also, it talked about how to talk to your kids.  My kids and I have always spoken openly and honestly.  They know what's going on with me, I know what's going on with them.  And they're at the age where they understand what's happening and can express themselves if they need to, and they know that I (and their father for that matter)  will listen.


So, to the entertainment portion of the program.  We got to watch some scenes from Mrs. Doubtfire, which I hadn't seen in a long time and which is still hysterically funny, especially from a these-were-the-worst-parents-on-the-face-of-the-earth aspect as they made every mistake a divorced couple could make.  Fighting in front of the kids, talking bad about the other to the kids, etc, etc.


We also saw a scene from the Squid and the Whale which I HAVE to see now because it looks hilarious.  It stars fake Mark Zuckerberg (who I love in a completely and totally not stalkerish, courgar fashion)

But the piece d' resistance was the Feelings Chart.  This was a chart to show your children when they are having trouble expression themselves, to better find out how they're feeling.  Okay, after trying unsuccessfully to upload the funniest pictures, I've decided to draw my own to depict what they kind of looked like.


This first one was guilt.  It was a boy standing over a broken lamp holding a baseball bat.  The bat was placed in a spot in which if you weren't really looking at the back end of it, the front end resembled something coming out of his zipper. er.


This second one was greed.  It was a boy who had stole something (I couldn't tell what, a bag of money, a bag of marbles?)  But where the bully's hand was placed, it looked like inappropriate touching.  And the items that spilled from the bag made it look like the poor tormented boy peed his pants.
 
This next one had a boy with a tv in front of him.  I may be exaggerating the details a little.  The title was 'terrified'.  In the real picture the tv just depicted a menacing guy with a big knife.  But I thought it would be more funny to put blood gushing and death, because, well, that's how I roll.  

This next one was called Happy.  It was a girl unwrapping a present, but to me it looked like a girl whose legs were on fire.

The last one was the best.  I can't even begin to depict the entire wrongness of the picture.  It was 'Kind'.  It was a boy holding a carrot, feeding a bunny.  You could not really tell what the bunny was.  But it was the carrot that was most disturbing.  You could not tell it was a carrot first of all.  Secondly, where it was placed made the picture look pornographic.  I stared at it for about five minutes before someone else finally said, "What IS that in the kind picture?"


Needless to say, many of us parents found this chart inappropriate for children.





Next song on the radio (my iPod is dead): Use Somebody, Kings of Leon


Movie of the Week: Black Swan.  I haven't seen it, I'm going to.

Book of the Week: Tell Me a Secret.  Find my review on Goodreads
Quote of the Week:

"The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the
sleeping world. "
— Leonard Cohen

Celebrate something this weekend.

~megan

F³A: Friday Already?!?!?

The title of this blog drips with sarcasm.  This week has seemed long.  Just getting back in to the swing of things after a week long illness and five day vacation.  It's been difficult.  I've had nightmares rivaling something from Elm Street, keeping me awake at night.  This of course has caused a week's worth of grumpity tiredness.  

Neighborhood cats are stalking me.

Birthday parties.

Did I mention work?

I can think of nothing but writing, feeling hot on my WIP Sad.  However, there are not enough hours in my  my day sometimes to squeeze it in between work, kids, grocery shopping, exercise (yes I have been, but had to take a couple days off because my butt and thighs staged a rebellion), cooking, driving, cleaning (okay, maybe not cleaning, please no surprise visits this weekend).  I have done some writing, I'm up to 4K on the novel.  Not much, but more than before.

Maybe this weekend between birthday parties and football I can get a good chunk of words out.  That's my goal at least.  I think I'll go for 3K.

I can't write anymore.  I keep getting distracted by the clock and Facebook and email.  Plus, I have to be at work soon and have yet to brush my teeth and put shoes on. (have I mentioned how much I hate wearing shoes?  And coats.  I hate coats and it's really effing cold here)

Book of the week: Tell Me a Secret by Holly Cupala.  Just started it yesterday.  Very good. And she's local and a Diva Girl (which one day I long to be)

Random song that pops up on my iPod:  Just Breathe by Pearl Jam.  Very apropos for me today.

Movie of the Week:  Inception.  Trippy cool.

Quote of the week: "I was so scared to give up depression, fearing that somehow the worst part of me was actually all of me. "
— Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (this quote reminds me of an email I just sent this morning)

Have a great weekend my friends.

Peace out.

~Megan

(look I learned how to make a new monkey)

_________m___m__________

                  o(o o)o

                    ( ~ )

Manic Monday

More like Panic Monday.  I went to a book release party the other night for the charming Holly Cupala.  As I stood watching a video she and her husband put together, and seeing the name Ellen Hopkins pop up on the screen saying how wonderful Holly's novel is, I started to panic.  Just sitting here writing it I'm starting to panic again.

I started thinking about my novel, Never Eighteen.  Wondering if anyone would say nice things about it, like Ms. Hopkins did for Holly.  Wondering if I would get an author to blurb it for me.  Wondering if people would love it or hate it.  

I have to step back from the ledge and realize, some people will not like it.  It's just a fact.  As far as blurbing?  I hope I get blurbs from authors, but if I don't, maybe it's not the end of the world?

Okay, enough panicking. 

Now I'll just lament.  Looks like I lost a blog follower. :(  Such is life.

Tomorrow's Twofer Tuesday will feature author, Val Conrad, so be sure to come check it out.

Be great today everyone.

~Megan

New Project

So, I'm kind of excited about this new project I'm working on.  Titled, Finding Nirvana, it's about a girl addicted to grunge and obsessed with Kurt Cobain, who goes on a journey of self discovery.  I think.  It's mostly still in my head.

But I'm excited to do some research on this.  On the way back from the ocean, I went through Aberdeen to find his childhood home (on the right).  There is a documentary on Netflix I'm going to watch, and an exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum.

Here's a little totally rough, brand new, unedited excerpt:

      My name is Lanie and I’m a grunge addict.  Yes I’m well aware that it’s 2010, and grunge was so 1990’s, but it wasn’t really a choice, it was a way of life.  At times I felt like I was born a decade too late.  I would have totally fit in with the Seattle grunge scene, but that was my mom’s life, not mine.  So deep into that scene, she chose to name me Layne Veddar Cobain Cornell Miller.  Ridiculous I know, but she couldn’t make up her mind between her favorite singers from Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Soundgarden, respectively.  I decided when I started school that I would go by Lanie.  It sounded more, well, like a girl.

       When it comes to my dad, things get a bit more complicated.  You see, I don’t really know who he is, well, I kind of do.  He could be one of three guys, the first being Kenny James.  He’s a totally smart way cool dude who manages a couple local bands, the most “famous” if you can call it that being Toke.  The second might be BJ Dubois, the drummer for Drop Dead Lead, and no I don’t know if that’s his real name, or if he took the initials just to be funny or clever, which he’s neither, though he thinks he is.  He’s a bit socially retarded, but he’s nice, and not bad to look at.  The last contestant on “Who’s My Dad” is Doug “Spaz” Harris, singer of The Deceased .  If you knew Doug, you’d know exactly why they called him Spaz.  First of all he’s got Tourettes, so he tenses up and blurts out the most insane funniest shit at times, also,  on stage, he dances  like he’s having a seizure.

     These three are pretty much interchangeable to me, all white, all in their early thirties, all still living life as if they’re rock stars.  I can’t blame them really, I’ve got the bug myself and it’s hard to shake, plus I’ve never heard of a twelve step program for this kind of addiction.  When you look at those guys, there’s not one distinct feature you could point out and say, “oh, he’s GOT to be Lanie’s dad.”  I mean, my eyes are blue like Kenny’s, I have full lips, like BJ, and I’m tall and thin like Spaz.  I guess seventeen years ago my mother loved them all.  So there you have it. 

On a different note, I was invited to one of the Readergirlz Diva's book launch (Holly Cupala) and I'm so excited.  I've been wanting to meet some of these ladies since I started writing.  Only hitch, it's on my daughter's birthday.  Now, it's a teen book, and I can bring people, so I've talked to her about it and we're considering making a day of it in Seattle and getting a hotel room and stuff.  But I told her it's up to her. Still, it's exciting just to be invited. :)

That's all, let me know how you like the excerpt.

 Ciao,

 Megan