Sorry this post is late today. We had a doctor's appointment for precious daughter (shots, ouch!), and I forgot that as I was picking up the twins at school yesterday, my gas light came on. So I had to leave the house extra early this morning to stop by the gas station before driving to the clinic.
And now I have a rant: When did bottles of coke become so expensive? And this is not directed at a specific soda company (Coca-Cola or Pepsi or Dr. Pepper), but at ALL of them. I ran out of my second vice in the world, Diet Coke, yesterday, and decided to stop by the dollar store to pick up a two-liter before getting my sons from school. It cost me $1.25 for the bottle.
This morning, while getting gas, I ran in to grab a 20 oz. bottle of Diet Coke . . . $1.51! What gives? That just seems nuts to me. I will pick up the two-liters from now on because I just can't see the point of paying more money for less product. Ridiculous.
Okay, rant over.
Now on to the weekend. We are having a party for Precious Daughter on Sunday afternoon, so I will spend the day tomorrow cleaning the house. And the truly sad part is that even if I clean from sun up to sun down, it still won't be that much better because I have let this place get into an atrocious state. Oh, well. We'll see how it goes.
And now to rewind a bit (and I will post more next week as well) the ACFW conference in Minneapolis. Oh my gosh! Fabulous.
I went to the conference with low expectations. I knew I would have an agent appointment, and an editor appointment at some point. I knew I would have a critique from an author I had submitted sample pages to. I tried to keep my hopes to a minimum because when you get yourself too psyched up before a conference like this, and place too much pressure on the outcome of these meetings, you'll inevitably be crushed. Keeping it in perspective is the main goal.
So the first night MIL and I get to our hotel, and the first people we see in the lobby are a well-known author named James Scott Bell, my mother-in-law's agent, and the owner of that agency. If you're not a writer, this is like, "Yeah, so . . . big deal." As a writer, this meeting in the lobby is the equivalent of seeing celebrities, musicians, or star athletes.
After a brief introduction, we hurry upstairs to drop off our stuff and get back downstairs to eat because we are both starving. We order and wait for the food as more and more people are arriving. MIL sees some people she knows, waves them over, and they join us at our microscopic excuse for a table. Then one of the new arrivals motions for another woman to join us. She sits down, and I am trying to figure out why she seems so familiar.
Then I recognize her . . . Mary Conneally.
Mary Conneally. She is one of my absolute favorite authors.
Her books are hilarious historical romances, and I am trying not to slobber all over myself because she is sitting at MY table!
I tried not to be so obvious in my worship of her, but alas, I not known for my subtlety. So I oohed and aahed her for the rest of the night, until we all retired to our rooms.
And on Monday, I will continue my tales of bumbling my way to a great conference.
Have a wonderful weekend.