Five Favorites for Friday – Third Edition

Not sure why I think anybody but my Fab Hub enjoys the Five Favorites for Friday posts, but I’m going with it.  They make him smile.  I like when he smiles.

And so, without further ado, I submit for your entertainment (hopefully), my five favorites from this week.

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The Complicated Process of Writing and Living

My first reaction to Mama Kat’s writing prompts this week was, “Oh, I definitely have to do the one about what complicates my life because that’s easy.”

Fab Hub raised his eyebrows and looked at me over the top of his glasses like He does.  This look usually means one of two things:

  1.  He is doubtfully and/or cautiously curious about what I have just said, in which case he will say something like, “Really? How so?” or “Really?  And why is that?”
  2. I am doing something ridiculously goofy or endearingly annoying.  In this case he will say, “Hon.  Really?”

And so he spoke:

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Scattered Thoughts for a Lazy Friday

I meant to have a post ready for today…honest.  And then, as I often say, life got in the way.

This is not a bad thing.  In fact, it’s very good.  It’s been a busy week.  Allow me to share some updates, observations and discoveries…

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Can’t Touch This…

Remember M.C. Hammer?  The song “Can’t Touch This”?  Then you surely remember that great late ’80s fashion craze called “Hammer Pants.”

I have lived through many fashion mistakes…many many fashion mistakes.  I am certain that yesterday was yet another.  I was surprised, though, at the speed with which My Sister suggested that my Hammer Pants phase was my greatest fashion faux pas to date.

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Writing Workshop: Worst Meal Ever

Today, I was horrified by inspired by Kitchen Witch’s story about Shipwreck Casserole – I have never heard of such a thing.  Her story immediately brought to mind some of my least favorite childhood meals.  So I decided to join MamaKat’s Writing Workshop this week and play along…

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Say…Anything!

I got nothin’.

That’s not true.  I have fifteen thousand ideas swirling around in my head.  (Think I’m kidding?  I’m not.)  I have dozens – maybe hundreds – of untold stories just waiting for the opportunity to be warmed by the light of the laptop screen.  I even have about sixteen started drafts waiting to be plucked from oblivion and given their chance.  So why can’t I write something?

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