long weekends should be standard

My first two chapters went over better than I expected, and I got great critiques from the other students. Some even did line-by-line critiques. I have to do a re-write by the end of next week, and that's it for the workshop. I think I get a day or two off before the next workshop starts.

Report from last weekend:

My dishwasher and garbage disposal work again, and it didn't cost me as much as I thought it would. Plus, the plumber even cleaned out my sink for me.

Joe-the-office-roomie's baby is a little bundle of adorableness. She has fat cheeks and a floppy head and the cutest feet.

The nutritionist is re-vamping my diet, and that is a post in itself. Karen-the-acupuncturist cleared up some dampness in my system, which is also a post in itself. I'll tell you about the herbs later.

My hair is an inch shorter. My fingernails are French manicured, and my toenails are sparkly blue.

The edging on one blanket was finished, another partial blanket was frogged because the design didn't look right. I restarted that one and another one.

This weekend is more writing, more crocheting, brunch with sister, dinner with father, and watching the movies Joe-the-office-roome and Angel-the soon-to-be-art-teacher got for me as birthday gifts. I also got some nifty earrings from Jane-the gardener, jewelry from my mom, and roses in a girly teacup from my mom. I made out like a bandit, didn't I? Makes 33 a bit more bearable.

Also, I'm always coming across interesting things on Internet radio. Ian Fleming's 100th birthday is on the 28th. BBC4 has a radio version of Dr No, which is quite bizarre. Toby Stephens plays James Bond, and David Suchet plays Dr No. Suchet's voice for Dr No is creepy. And they can get away with saying "shit" on the radio. The story makes a lot more sense than the film did. And it is kind of funny - killing Dr No by dumping a huge load of bird shit on him.