Least Subtle Music Lyrics I've heard this week:
"I'm so addicted to all the things you do / When you're rollin' 'round with me in between the sheets"
Why not just whack me over the head with a two-by-four that says "I love you"?
What I'm Reading: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
The narrator is Death. The location is Nazi Germany. I'm thinking... upper?
What I'm Writing: 23,512 words in WIP.
(I know it doesn't sound like enough of an increase from last time, especially since I went to a writing retreat in the interim, but I realized one of the scenes in my book had been doubled - copied and pasted instead of cut and pasted - and so when I deleted it... nevermind. Excuses are time-consuming to type, and not just a little boring. Sorry. Let's try it again.)
WIP: 23,512 words. I suck.
The Last Thing an Aspiring Benihana Chef Wants to See:
So, we're at Benihana yesterday for my nephew's birthday, and when the fry cook starts chucking shrimp tails, my little 2-year old nephew "A" starts crying.
We're all: "Don't be scared. The shrimp tails are harmless."
But he's still freaking out, pointing to his throat and sort of saying, "Peh... Peh..."
I'm thinking: Sheesh, this kid must hate shrimp as much as I do. So I say, "I know, little A. Pee-yuuuu."
Then my sister says: "Wait, where is that penny he was playing with?"
Nephew A points to his chest: "Peh-nee."
My sister starts freaking out, frantically searching for the penny, and so I offer her another penny, but that doesn't help.
I know what you're all thinking because I was thinking the same thing: "Why did he have to swallow it during the appetizer?"
My dad (a pediatrician) tells us to sit tight. "A" may or may not have to go to the hospital.
So our cook (a non-asian guy named Jeremy) gets a little flustered, because we're all staring at Nephew A, waiting to see if the penny suddenly bursts out of his chest or anything.
Not Jeremy
Jeremy (with a hesitant smile, and a crack in his voice): "Um... you wanna see an onion volcano?"
The poor guy looked like we had just chopped off his hands and demanded he juggle for us.
So we were overly encouraging. "C'mon, Jer, you can do it. Wow. A volcano made of onion rings. Oooooh. Aaaaah. Don't worry- he always swallows pennies. Show us that salt trick again. You know, the one where you salt the vegetables."
The sweat dripped off his forehead as he juggled knives. It was priceless. We took Nephew A to get an x-ray, and I tagged along for the ride, because my toe was hurting.
Don't worry. I did not break my foot in a million parallel lines; that's a banister behind the x-ray. But other than that, anyone see any anomalies? The doctor says no, but I'm pretty sure there's something funky going on there. Something that might explain why my writer's group thinks I'm number one crazy.
Oh, and Nephew A is gonna be just fine. My sister has the pleasure of... determining when and if the little penny is deposited.
Fun weekend for her. Mwah hah hah hah.
Anyone else doing anything this weekend that doesn't involve studying poop?
"I'm so addicted to all the things you do / When you're rollin' 'round with me in between the sheets"
Why not just whack me over the head with a two-by-four that says "I love you"?
What I'm Reading: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
The narrator is Death. The location is Nazi Germany. I'm thinking... upper? What I'm Writing: 23,512 words in WIP.
(I know it doesn't sound like enough of an increase from last time, especially since I went to a writing retreat in the interim, but I realized one of the scenes in my book had been doubled - copied and pasted instead of cut and pasted - and so when I deleted it... nevermind. Excuses are time-consuming to type, and not just a little boring. Sorry. Let's try it again.)
WIP: 23,512 words. I suck.
The Last Thing an Aspiring Benihana Chef Wants to See:
So, we're at Benihana yesterday for my nephew's birthday, and when the fry cook starts chucking shrimp tails, my little 2-year old nephew "A" starts crying.
We're all: "Don't be scared. The shrimp tails are harmless."
But he's still freaking out, pointing to his throat and sort of saying, "Peh... Peh..."
I'm thinking: Sheesh, this kid must hate shrimp as much as I do. So I say, "I know, little A. Pee-yuuuu."
Then my sister says: "Wait, where is that penny he was playing with?"
Nephew A points to his chest: "Peh-nee."
My sister starts freaking out, frantically searching for the penny, and so I offer her another penny, but that doesn't help.
I know what you're all thinking because I was thinking the same thing: "Why did he have to swallow it during the appetizer?"
My dad (a pediatrician) tells us to sit tight. "A" may or may not have to go to the hospital.
So our cook (a non-asian guy named Jeremy) gets a little flustered, because we're all staring at Nephew A, waiting to see if the penny suddenly bursts out of his chest or anything.
Not JeremyThe poor guy looked like we had just chopped off his hands and demanded he juggle for us.
So we were overly encouraging. "C'mon, Jer, you can do it. Wow. A volcano made of onion rings. Oooooh. Aaaaah. Don't worry- he always swallows pennies. Show us that salt trick again. You know, the one where you salt the vegetables."
The sweat dripped off his forehead as he juggled knives. It was priceless. We took Nephew A to get an x-ray, and I tagged along for the ride, because my toe was hurting.
Here's the x-ray of my foot. 
Brodi's Foot X-Ray
Brodi's Foot X-RayDon't worry. I did not break my foot in a million parallel lines; that's a banister behind the x-ray. But other than that, anyone see any anomalies? The doctor says no, but I'm pretty sure there's something funky going on there. Something that might explain why my writer's group thinks I'm number one crazy.
Oh, and Nephew A is gonna be just fine. My sister has the pleasure of... determining when and if the little penny is deposited.
Fun weekend for her. Mwah hah hah hah.
Anyone else doing anything this weekend that doesn't involve studying poop?
