Whoa. Books showed up here two weeks in a row.

Used to be, if I went two DAYS without books arriving, it was weird. But in an attempt to make the TBR mountain range here in my office shrink, I’ve been VERY disciplined about limiting what comes into the house. (within reason; I still get a nice share of RABCK — random act of BookCrossing Kindness — surprises)

So, in addition to the three party-hardy, beer-soaked books that showed up here on Wednesday, I got…

Searching for Tina Turner, by Jacqueline E. Luckett

Nope, this isn’t a rock book, believe it or not if you judge by the title. (And don’t give me that. Tina could teach ANY rocker a thing or two!) It’s just something that I wanted to read.

Still personal is the arrival of Lori G. Armstrong’s Blood Ties. Lori rocks, pure and simple. I know her as both Lori and as her alternate, erotic counterpart. I DIG Lori, hear? You would, too, if you knew her. She’s just that awesome.

And since she’s awesome, that means I need to read her awesome books, too. So, I shall.

Yes, it IS this easy in my world.

Except for when my books get to party harder than I do. That’s just WRONG.

Be sure to stop by The Printed Page, where Marcia is hosting Mailbox Monday, and The Story Siren, where Kristi hosts In My Mailbox. I’m sure other people got better-behaved books that don’t party as hard as those still-unnamed three did.

That’s right, boys and girls! It’s here!

Read an E-Book Week began bright and early Sunday morning and YOU (yes, you) can get in on the fun. If you’ve never read an e-book, it is time.

Here. Start with The Demo Tapes. I’ve made them half-off at Smashwords, on top of that already ridiculously low price point I am experimenting with. Then, surf around. Find the other Read an e-Book Week partners and see what sort of great stuff you can find.

Wait! It’s Monday and I’m feeling left out of the all attention being given to the freebie books. So… Both Demo Tapes anthologies are now free at Smashwords. If you’d like to get them in print, use the handy buy links here on the site and use coupon IDES. That’ll work until March 31 — and give you 10% off the cover price.

It may not be as big a discount as free, but it’s a start!

Load up your hard drives, your flash drives, your e-readers. Even if you don’t get to read them this week, you’ll have them. They don’t go bad. And then, you can spread the Read an e-Book Week goodness year-round.

Join me. Read an e-book, even if it ain’t mine.

I don’t know how many of you remember — assuming you even saw it — the Camp Choas spots, lambasting my favorite real band and the whole Napster debacle.

Even if you’ve never seen it, you need to. Ten years later, it still cracks me up. The Tour Manager and I used to mimic the Cartoon James and announce “Beer! Good!” Hell, to this day, I still say, “Fire! Bad!”

But we’re talkin’ beer here. And books. Because, while beer is the booze I prefer, beer and books just don’t get along.

See, here’s the deal. I went to the post office on Wednesday. It’s a small post office, and the two women who work there know me. So it was with some chagrin that a package was handed to me. It had arrived that morning — and it was wet. Another package had erupted in the mail sack, and wouldn’t you know, but this 9×12 catalog envelope headed for me had gotten the worst of it.

By the smell, it’s beer.

Now, it turns out this is a very very bad thing. Not merely because inside this package is a book I’d been expecting and intending to review. But because the author was kind enough to send me THREE COPIES so I could give them away.

All ruined.

My postmaster tried to get some restitution for me. But… the post office is buried under layers of legislation protecting their profits. They aren’t going to pay to replace my books, even though this happened while the books were in their hands. And they aren’t going to try to track down the sender of the beer, even though if you hunt around the USPS.gov website long enough, you’ll find that you’re not actually supposed to mail beer.

To add insult to injury, there was the implication that this was partially the author’s fault, for throwing three books into a 9×12 catalog envelope and not wrapping the books better. Like he was supposed to know some schmoo was dumb enough to mail beer?

Now, this is where it gets good. No, not that I contacted the publicist who’d set this whole thing up and she was quite understanding and wonderful.

It gets good the very second that I tell you that these books are about the 80s glam metal frontmen — a group of Aqua-Netted, bleach-blonde men who were known for their copious beer consumption. You know: who partied hard and lived to tell the tales.

These books certainly partied hard, whether or not any of us wanted them to. Lived to tell the tales? I’m not so sure.

Still. Who mails beer?

The day’s half over and I’m finally encouraging you to stop by Reading with Tequila. I’ve got a guest blog post there all about the Mitchell Versus Trevor war. Who do you prefer, the bad boy or the sensitive man?

You can also enter to win a few copies of The Demo Tapes — one is print and two are digital downloads. Get ’em now. Read ’em during Read an E-Book Week.

1. Last year, I posted about Read an e-Book Week.

2. This year, YOU (yes, you) can read BOTH of my books.

3. They are listed at Smashwords.com, as part of their special Read an E-Book promotion.

4. Yeah. That link won’t actually work until the 7th.

5. Or you can visit my profile page there now.

6. If you’re savvy, you’ll notice I dropped the price on the books.

7. And if you’re even savvier, you’ll hang tight for the 7th. The books will be discounted a FURTHER 50%.

8. If you want to make me extra royalties, or want a print copy, go to Lulu.com.

9. Use coupon code IDES between now and March 31 for a 10% discount on the print or download (it’s a .pdf download) copy.

10. But be sure to visit Read an E-Book Week’s home site.

11. You’ll find links to other e-books.

12. But they won’t be as good as mine. Or their authors as friendly as me.

13. Discover a new author this upcoming week. At the prices many of us are charging, you can REALLY load up and let the fun last beyond one mere week.

Now, Chelle here’s all about dreamin’ big. How else do you think a girl like me got this here job at this here Trumpet? You think they hire any old fattie who don’t even own a pen?

Yeah, that’s right. Chelle dreamed big and found a way to make it happen. And now she writes these here columns, and the Trumpet makes sure them columns get into the paper so you can spend your precious money just to read what Chelle’s gotta say.

Chelle’s got a doozy for you today, boys and girls. Seems those goofs over in Europe are at it again. I swear, have you ever seen a crazier bunch of music lovers than the Europeans? They put us over here to shame. To shame. Ya hear Chelle on this one? We gotta do better. We just do.

But we ain’t gotta do it this way. Nope. Know why? ‘Cause this latest one makes them music fans over in Europe sound like they off their rockers. Maybe they are. Chelle here’s gonna let you all decide.

Seems there’s a couple-a groups now who think the best way to show their metal sides is to make heavy metal a religion. A real religion. One recognized by governments and all that.

Now, you and me, we know that metal’s already a religion. There’s rules you gotta follow or you don’t fit in. There’s dogma that makes no sense, like why jerks gotta kick the cool outta mosh pits. There’s guilt if you don’t follow them pit rules, even that stupid one that lets the jerks run the joint. I heard talk of makin’ a sacred text, full of … song lyrics, maybe. I s’pose if the Psalms fillin’ up the Bible at the church Chelle used to go to is poetry, so’s song lyrics. Wasn’t them Psalms songs once upon a time?

What Chelle don’t see there bein’ is a sacred being in this new religion of ours. Who’s it gonna be? My honey Mitchell Voss? The old-school but still rockin’ Sammy Spencer? Maybe the very dead Soul Bendorff? And what sort of teachin’ is this sacred being gonna spread? And how’s we all supposed to follow one person, when metal’s so big already? Them death heads ain’t gonna wanna follow someone like my honey. And that cutie of Chelle’s would laugh at some of them black metal types. In their faces laugh. Chelle knows. She’s seen him do it.

Chelle here ain’t the brightest bulb. She knows that. She cool with it. That don’t mean she can’t see issues with this here idea.

You heard it first and you heard it here: Metal’s way too personal to ever fill a bunch of pews and make people sit all proper like. Metal’s for rockin’.

So go rock on and leave the religion for the rest of ’em.

***
Be sure to see what other people are Sunday Scribblings about. This week’s prompt was Big Dream.

Yeah, I’ve been talking about books I didn’t write more than I’ve been sharing my own fiction of late. That’s okay ’cause my nose is still pressed firmly to the grindstone and I KNOW you guys are going to dig what I’m at work on. Promise.

So let’s talk books this week, shall we? On Monday, I found that my friend Megan, of Leafing Through Life, sent me a book from my wishlist (the shorter one posted at BookCrossing, not the 2000 or so I’ve got in an Excel file). It’s Dinner with Anna Karenina, and it was written by Gloria Goldreich.

I love wish list books. And I love seeing them show up in my PO Box even more.

I’m still on the prowl for books about rock stars, and another one found its way to me this week: What the Librarian Did, written by Karina Bliss.

This will NOT linger on the TBR mountains for very long. Promise. Keep an eye on Rocks and Reads for the review.

In the meantime, check out The Printed Page and The Story Siren for more Mailbox Monday/In My Mailbox and see what others are intending to read.

Yeah. I know. You’re going to fall over from the shock of this book I’ve come across.

It’s called Metallica: All That Matters, and it’s written by Paul Stenning.

Like always, anyone who’d like to buy me a gift or send me a review copy is welcome to.

I don’t think I need to say much more than this, huh?

But to change things up a bit. Sort of. Not really, I came across Olivia Brynn’s Falling Star. It seems to ONLY be an e-book and the only link I’ve got is to Liquid Silver books. Yeah, I should probably suck it up and buy it; Lord knows, it’s not terribly expensive. But the aspiring book blogger in me wishes all these books would show up on my doorstep so I can pretend I’m an important reviewer and all.

(btw, the link for Falling Star will take you to Liquid Silver books, not to Powells. So if you click through and then buy something, I won’t get the pennies I would if you bought through Powells. Just so you and the FTC know what’s up here.)

Back in September, I made this list for my thirteen. Details.

This week, I thought we’d do more telling details. The small things that speak volumes.

1. Leaving dirty dinner dishes on the bed.

2. What a smoker does when confronted with a full ashtray.

3. If a fan looks their star in the eye. If they speak up, ask for a picture, an autograph. And what they do once the interaction ends.

4. What you do when the guy behind you spills his Coke. Beer. Whatever.

5. How you handle being heckled by the drunk who’s got the seat beside you.

6. Which member of the band is first in the after-concert shower. And which member is last.

7. How a hockey player puts his gear on.

8. Dirt caked under a fingernail. Lunch stuck in a tooth.

9. Which side of the camera you’re most comfortable on.

10. How hard you fight sleep each night.

11. Your favorite bookmark.

12. Dog, cat, rabbit, reptile?

13. A person’s jeans.

Think about it. It’s the small things that speak so much.

Since there’s now two weekly book memes: In my Mailbox and Mailbox Monday, it seems that just calling for a mail call is in order.

The past few weeks (since my last check-in, in fact), I’ve gotten a few books. Not many, and I forgot to blog about them.

However, I’m fixing that! Mary at BookHounds was kind enough to send me her copy of Nerd Girl Rocks Paradise City: A True Story of Faking It in Hair Metal LA.

I’m not much of a memoir fan. You guys know I’m almost entirely about fiction. But given the subject matter, resistance is futile.

Anyone else get good books?

And for the record, Trevor wanted me to let you know he’s busy reading the back of a box of Frooty Pebbles. I guess you gotta start somewhere…

Between the Olympics, putting my nose to the grindstone to bring you something you REALLY want, and two hours shoveling my driveway and front walk, time’s been tight here.

I haven’t forgotten you. Or abandoned you.

Be back soon–

It took some planning
but I got a Valentine’s Day present
For More.

A new Sharpie.
A beaded lanyard she’ll dig.
And a
bag
of
pretzels.

I taped the Sharpie
onto the lanyard for her.
Gave it to her that way.

She looked it over.
Said it was cool.

Looked sorta sad.

I handed over the bag
of
pretzels.

She squealed and hugged
.
.
.
.
.
.
the pretzels.

Then
she hugged me.

And
the
pretzels.

Okay, I thought.
I’d hoped for better.
but it seems

I’ve lost my girl
to a bag
of
pretzels.

My kids have been home for five days now, thanks to the snow. We’re all a little bit stir-crazy, even though we’ve been getting out.

Here are thirteen headlines that were ripped straight out of my imagination…

1. Snowbound kids turn 22 inches of snow into 20-foot snowman.

2. 20-foot snowman Crushes Neighbor’s Car

3. Kids Buried Waist-Deep in Snow. Freeze while Mom takes pictures for scrapbook

4. Mom serves doctored cocoa to kids. Takes bath while they sleep off the effects.

5. Heavy snow breaks skylight in local home. Kids build snowmen in bathtub.

6. Husbands around region bring sleeping bags to work. Seek to avoid family with cabin fever.

7. Man has heart attack clearing spot in grass for dog to pee on.

8. Mom Climbs Walls — and Refuses to come Down until Spring.

9. Bored kids plead with school board to reopen schools.

10. Snow Reminds Seniors of The Winter of 1900! Fifty inches over five days. Five hundred dead.

11. Libraries glad city shut down. Fear all books would be gone otherwise.

12. Vampires asked to help fill blood donor shortage. (Okay, inspired by a true story)

13. Punxy Phil laughs himself to six more weeks of hibernation.

Wait. That last one seems to have happened.

HUGE thanks to the special woman who makes me smile when she calls me “Sis.” There are starting to be fan pages for me and the band over at Facebook.

That’s right. You can be a fan of Trevor. Or Mitchell. Or this here entire operation called West of Mars.

Because I’m new at this and relatively clueless, if you’ve got ideas for what should be on these pages — sorry, but audio clips don’t exist, although I’d be willing to listen to your own version — speak up. Are there other characters you’d like to see pages for? (I can hear the Roadie Poet fans rumbling now…)

Let this be just another way you interact with our boys. It’s all for you.

And, okay, some royalties for me.

“Here’s some mail and some messages that arrived for you, Mr. Vreyman,” the woman at the hotel counter said, handing over a pile that had to be at least two inches thick.

Mitchell tried not to groan at the sight of it. As he swiped the key card off the counter, he turned away and started reading the top page, a fax from JR.

“Oh, and a package!” the counter woman said, freezing Mitchell mid-stride.

Before he could react, Charlie lunged for it. “I’ll take that,” he said, snatching it away before Mitchell could see it. “Expecting anything?” The tour manager said.

Mitchell tried to read the label on it. “Just let me look for a second.”

“Sorry. If you’re not expecting it…”

Mitchell growled. So fucking what if this was JR’s new safety rule? It was entirely possible that Amy or Ma had sent this and forgotten to tell him to expect it. And if Kerri had sent it to surprise him, she’d have sent it directly to Charlie. His hotel sign-in name made her giggle. He kind of liked it: E. Vreyman.

Best of all, none of the band’s fans had figured it out.

Charlie wound up in the elevator with him, but Mitchell began sorting through the shit that had been waiting for him. All band business: from JR, their manager, from the record label, from the publicists. It was probably going to mean the rest of the day spent with Daniel, who was probably already in his room, making his own sense of the same exact shit.

He’d been in his room for three minutes when Charlie knocked at the door and handed the box to him. Didn’t even come in the room, just stuck his arm in and said, “My mistake. This was expected.”

Mitchell grunted at him, knowing the guy would freak if he heard anything more, and closed the door. The box wasn’t big; it sat right on his palm. It hung over the sides but didn’t make it to the tips of his fingers. It was a perfect cube.

Mitchell smiled at it. Only Kerri would find this sort of box.

He shoved the papers aside and sat on the edge of the bed to open the box and see what she’d sent.

It made no sense. She’d sent him a bottle opener.

He lifted it out of the packing peanuts and stared at it. It sat on his palm the same way the box had, only it was smaller. Seemed to weigh more now that it’d been freed from its package.

A bottle opener.

He didn’t get it. He rarely drank beer that still had the tops on when it was handed to him — and that assumed it was even still in the bottle. He hadn’t gotten used to the way people fell over themselves to open a stupid bottle of beer for him. Like he was incapable now that the band was big.

It made as much sense as the bottle opener.

Except, suddenly, the bottle opener made perfect sense.

Mitchell grinned. He couldn’t help it.

He stretched out on the bed, pulled a pillow out from under the ugly comforter, and got lost in the plans of what exactly they were going to do to each other when she showed up in a day or two.

When the knock sounded on the door, he laughed. He hadn’t realized he’d been expecting it. Or the gorgeous redhead who was on the other side, holding a stack of extra towels and a bottle of schnapps.

***
Lots more Sunday Scribblings for you, and lots of messages inside those scribblings. Go knock yourself out.

It’s Wednesday night. It’s been a busy week, with Alice Audrey stopping by (scroll down if you missed it) and my royalty-based donation to the Red Cross for Haiti (scroll down some more if you missed it). And it’s only Wednesday!

For some reason, tonight I’m craving…
1. Chocolate. Okay, that’s not new. In fact, that’s pretty much a constant.

2. A return to the summer night my friend Ryan and I sat on the hoods of our cars after a late-night hockey game and chatted for hours. I remember the way the damp, humid air felt on our ice-cooled skins. The thickness in my swollen knee (I had it cleaned out not even six months later). The feel of the smooth metal of my car under my thighs and palms. It was such a lush, erotic night.

3. A hot jacuzzi. A hot, PRIVATE jacuzzi. Score one for my old health club, where the jacuzzi was located in the locker rooms, thus making it relatively private. The Hoity-Toity Health Club? The jacuzzi’s in the pool area. Not so private.

4. Time with Trevor. Fiction (and Roadie Poet) has been absent from my site for a few weeks now. That’s gotta change.

5. More book sales. Of course. I can’t take over the world if no one’s reading my book!

6. The time to write this one outtake that’s been bugging me. It’s going to be one of those quiet, sensual types, like Rain. Or Hands.

7. Speaking of time and fiction, Deadly Metal Hatchet. If I’m not careful, Fozzy will let the Hatchet loose on ME.

8. I need to sigh heavily. ALL the fictional friends have been missing from this place. And I’ve got a ton of tabs open, waiting for Chelle to speak up.

9. Other things I’m craving… ice cream. The kind with a ton of butterfat and a full mouth feel. Preferably chocolate of some sort. Maybe with peanut butter. Maybe from Bruster’s. Or Dave and Andy’s. NOT from the grocery store.

10.
11.
12.
13.

Wha? Huh? I didn’t finish?

Okay. You can do it for me. I’m off to go write something.

So our good friend Alice Audrey has her debut novel hitting shelves today! You guys know Alice; she of Alice’s Restaurant (that’s the blog) and Suzie’s House (that’s her online fictional serial).

Moving In is the name of this awesome first book — I’m eager to read it. And since it’s being released today, I had to ask her … what song makes you think of your book?

Here’s what she said:

This may be my first professional publication, but I’ve written a fair number of books before. A couple of them are making the agent/editor rounds in New York right now. Sometimes I listen to particular songs or artists while writing – everything from Pearl Jam to Afro Celts. Sometimes I have to turn the music off entirely. Moving In required silence. However, Good Enough by Sarah MacLachlin fits it very well.

Sarah’s folksy, accessible tones are much like Diane. Diane has a way of turning an apartment into a home, whether it’s her’s or her neighbors. She’s a down to earth, warm, and kind woman. Her greatest flaw? She’s convinced a woman can not be a mere housewife and still worthy of respect.

Trigvey disagrees. Adamantly.

He moves into the upstairs apartment of a converted Victorian the same day as Diane moves in downstairs. Actually, since he need to get to work and the previous tenants are still moving, he ends up putting his belongings in a corner of her apartment.

For Tirgvey, the title “Good Enough” is very appropriate. He is a doctor, financially secure, well respected, and good looking, yet when he comes home to a bare apartment and Diane’s generosity, he doesn’t feel good enough for her. He knows what she needs is love and attention, two things that are hard to demonstrate when you spend all hours of the day at work.

When things go badly in the ER, only Diane’s support gets him though. His faith in himself and his life is shaken. Before he’s done, so is hers.

You can click on the link above to see the official music video. And here’s the buy link!

Please join me in congratulating Alice and wishing her great sales (which we can ALL help out with, in fact!).

So back on January 11, I said that I’d be donating a portion of my royalties to the Red Cross, to help with Haiti. I wish I could donate them all, but I’m still a little bit in the red.

Let’s see how I did…

On January 13, I got a payment from Smashwords.com. My royalties there were $11.41

On January 18, I got a payment from Lulu.com. My royalties there were $9.80

That comes to $21.21

But there’s more… the royalties from what you guys bought that haven’t been paid out yet.
At Smashwords, there’s $1.81 waiting to be paid.

At Lulu, there’s $6.55 waiting to be paid.

And at the Kindle store, there’s … a mystery. Their reports are hard to read; I’m not sure if they owe me 3.50 or 7.00 — excluding anything you bought during January, as there are NO January records available yet. So we’ll have to exclude the Kindle store and reiterate that if you buy Demo Tapes: Year 1 and send me the receipt, I’ll send you a coupon for a free Year 2 via Smashwords.

If we figure a minimum of $3.50 for Kindle, we have $33.07

I still have some overhead to pay off — print copies of the books, promotional money spent — so instead of donating the whole amount like I wish I could, let’s halve it and see what we get…

$16.535

That’s not a monetary amount!

So let’s round that UP to the nearest nickle and we get … $16.55.

I like even numbers. Let’s call it a $17 donation, shall we? That’s just over 50% of the royalties that arrived either via payments or sales during the twenty days my offer ran.

There ya go. $17 to Haiti via the Red Cross.

Thanks for supporting me, The Demo Tapes project, and reading in general. Not to mention the people who really need it right now.

***
Just a reminder… once I break even on my expenses, I’ll be donating larger portions to various charities. Stay tuned and keep supporting the books, even if all you do is spread the word. That helps more than I can tell you.

Yep, I haven’t been doing as many Only the Good posts as I have been. But here’s one for you:

I am off for the weekend, with Opening Act #1. We’re headed to a Boy Scout camp North of Mars, and we’re going to sled and use his new snowboard and … well, freeze. It’s colder there than it is here, and it’s only about 15 degrees here right now.

I’ve packed my Yellowstone layers. Yep, by that I mean the layers and fleece and alpaca wool and all the other good stuff I bought when the Tour Manager took me to Yellowstone over New Year’s two years ago. (Read all about it here. Just … don’t expect to see the pictures. I don’t know where they went! And here. And… here. And see what Trevor did as soon as I left!)

Scarily, those posts don’t even BEGIN to touch the experience that trip was.

Anyway… One thing I’m not bringing? The laptop. I’m not sure there’s service, and frankly, these weekends away are all about being in the moment and having fun with my kids. And the other adults we’ll be with; they’re a cool group.

The only downer is that I haven’t been sleeping well and the thought of snuggling on the couch with Opening Act #2 and watching tween girl flicks via Netflix on Demand and making French Toast for dinner appeals way more than the idea of being so darn cold (especially because it got so cold in my office today, I’ve been on the couch in the family room for over an hour now!). But… #1 got to pick which parent was undertaking this adventure, and I snookered the Tour Manager’s best friend into driving and …

Off we go. Into the wild cold yonder.

See you guys on Monday!

It’s the end of January. I’ve got the midwinter blahs, right on time.

I need ways to break the blahs. So I asked the band what they thought I should do. The answers, of course, were less than helpful.

1. Daniel suggested I grab the Tour Manager and go find some cool band playing in the city limits. Not a bad idea, actually. A pair of suede jeans, some cool boots — and a skimpy little top that is perfect for the hot confines of a sweaty music hall (because sweaty music halls are the best kind) but that makes me cold while we’re outside. Oh, and I should throw my bra onstage and then flash the guys in the band.

Hmm.

2. Mitchell suggested going for ice cream and eating it on the bench outside the shop. But I should wait for a day when it’s snowing, and I should kick my legs as I lick my cone in the snow. Despite the input of a certain librarian, he had no suggestions of flavors.

Hmm.

3. Kerri suggested putting on an old t-shirt, a pair of old shorts, and grabbing some paint brushes. A new coat of paint for the walls, or just some kids’ paints and letting my inner child have some fun. But no black, no blue, and no pastels. All bright, cheery colors, please.

Especially if I paint the walls.

Hmm.

4. Mitchell then suggested I invite all my friends over, tell them to wear their shorts and swim wear, and throw a barbecue. Trevor one-upped him by turning it into a pig roast. Daniel one-upped him by floating the idea of a rib cook-off, with profits headed to Haiti relief.

Hmm.

5. Val brought us all back down to Earth with the suggestion that the Tour Manager and I take a weekend and flit off to some Caribbean island.

Hmm.

6. Trevor suggested I put shorts on and go for a ride on the back of his Vincent.

Uhh… no. Next?

7. Daniel suggested I go test-drive a fast car. Maybe the Acura ZDX, which I’m now lusting for (buy more books, people! It starts at $45k). Or something goofy and silly that’ll make me smile.

Hmmm.

8. Kerri suggested a new hair color. Or maybe a return to the pink.

Hmm.

9. Val thinks that going for some good Caribbean food would be the next best thing to going to the Caribbean itself. Or, she did for a minute and then reconsidered. There’s nothing better than warm sand under bare feet and a sarong tied just so it dips below one hip bone.

Caribbean. Hmm….

10. Kerri’s next idea was to go shopping. In the very high-end boutiques, the ones that dress the *sniff* society types. Fill a dressing room with clothes and then walk out, empty-handed. Or with a bracelet. Or that one piece you’ll wear the hell out of and makes people wonder if it ever comes off to get washed.

Hmm.

11. Eric offered to take me to an amusement park in a warm climate. (Busch Gardens, Tampa, maybe?) Nothing like a fast coaster and a warm night. Because we all know the coasters go faster at night (or is that reserved for the Thunderbolt at Kennywood?).

Hmmm.

12. Val said if we can’t do hot and sunny, we should do snowy. Sort of like Mitchell’s idea with the ice cream, but instead, take a day and go master the damn snowboard already.

Hmm.

13. All four of the boys in the band — especially Trevor — think I should take up a new exercise regime: either pole dancing or bellydancing. Or both. At the same time.

Boys in bands… *sigh*