Friday, July 04, 2008
Dear Invisible Friends,
I know you miss me.
I've only been gone a day, but I know what's happened. You're clutching your computer screens, wailing and tearing your hair out. Your eyes are red, your heart is broken and you're staring at the screen in vain until I come home and grace you with my brilliant ramblings from my pen.
Well, maybe not.
But I can dream, can't I?
Anyway, here are the questions I asked. I forgot that since you are Invisible Friends that some of your questions might be Invisible! Enjoy, and I'll see you Monday or Tuesday with pictures and stories galore (unless I get captured by a moose or invited to dine at the Polar Bear King's Palace. Then it'll be Thursday.)
The Blonde Duck
If you could live anywhere on this beautiful planet, where would it be?
Texas. Then I'd have a summer home in Colorado. I was born and raised in Austin, and to me there's no reason to ever leave Texas. You've got a forest in East Texas, desert in the West, plains in the north and Hill Country in the middle. The only way I'd leave is if Ben had to move due to work. And he'd have to find me first.
When are you getting your behind over here to England to visit me?
As soon as someone recognizes my brilliance and publishes one of my books so I can write it off as "book promotions." Stupid IRS.
Otherwise, it may be a few years. But be warned, I tend to attach to people I like. You might not get rid of me easily.
Will the babies fit in your suitcase?
The Babies fit in my purse. Their vacation home is my suitcase.
Have you always known that you wanted to be a writer?
Apparently. My mom told me when I was six and seven I used to fold computer paper and create books, with illustrations and fancy covers, and staple it for binding. My first memory of knowing for sure I wanted to be a writer is caring around a notebook my 4th grade teacher gave me and scratching stories in it. During class, I'd often ignore the lecture and scribble my stories. It stopped for awhile in high school when I turned to emoting through crappy poetry. In college, largely due to the encouragement of my husband and a favorite college professor, I began to write again. The funny thing is in 4th grade I informed people I was going to be a "writer AND illustrator," not just a writer. If I ever get bored one of these days, I may try to illustrate my own work.
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Did you ever ever entertain being anything else?
Having a large imagination, I think I'm anything else about 24 hours a day. In the past 12 hours, I've been a princess, a cowgirl, a hermit, Elle Woods, a belly dancer in a secret club and a Chihuahua.
In high school, depending what day it was, I wanted to be a journalist, a lawyer, a psychologist, a marine biologist and a teacher.
I decided not to be a lawyer when I found out I couldn't argue in court all day like they did in The Practice.
I decided not to be a psychologist when I realized I'd have to get a doctorate or go to medical school to hand out drugs.
Being a marine biologist was out of the picture when I realized they wanted me to study them, not play with them.
So currently, I'm a mixture of a journalist (for the cash), princess, Elle Woods and a writer.
If I promise to bake a HUGE lemon meringue pie will you come over here sooner?
Make it apple with a crumbly topping with a side of peanut butter pie and I'll be there tomorrow.
(My dirty little secret is I'm not a big fan of lemon, orange or anything citrus.) But I do love pie!
Are you the oldest child in your family?
Yup. My sister is four years younger than me and is a junior in college. She thinks I'm crazy. I agree.
From Bunny from Bunny's Warm Oven (http://wwwbunnysovencom.blogspot.com/):
Did you have formal training in writing?
I'm so glad you think I'm that talented! I have a bachelor's degree in journalism, but no real formal training in creative writing. It just sort of all flows out of me and winds up here. Then I whine and wuffle until people tell me they like it and I'm brilliant. I've been considering taking classes, but I don't want to get led into doing something that's not 'me.'
From the GLUG (Ginormous Lime Green Unusual Gnat):
Are you the Ginormous Unusual Blonde Duck?
Can I come with you to Alaska? I'd like to sample the tasty leaves.
You'll spend the entire airplane ride buzzing around the aisles bellowing "HELLO!" in everyone's faces and asking for leaves. I don't want to get kicked off the plane.
From the Flying Pigs:
Can we eat your tasty grass while we're gone?
Sure. If it's not burnt up by the sun by then.
From the Seals in the Land of the Flowered Bed:
Is that salmon in the fridge?
Nope, it's turkey. And that's not seaweed. It's green beans.
Can we tapdance in your freezer?
You can tapdance in the potato drawer in the fridge. Just watch out. The potatoes have eyes.
From the Babies:
Is your only purpose on this Earth to serve us?
Yes. That's my sole purpose in life. To clean your poo, feed you and rub your soft pink bellies.
And inhale your hot puppy breath and rub my cheek against your silky ears.
Thanks for the questions! See you in a few days.