It is 85 degrees here in Hot-Lanta. The air
conditioning in my upstairs does not work well - it was installed by druggie
idiots in 1968. It can only cool things down to about 75 degrees, which is sad.
I have chafing issues. grrrrrr....
I had about 5 different people at the office
today trill in chirpy voices "Oh isn't it BEAUTIFUL outside! It's so warm!
I just wish I could be outside!" The last one was a woman on the elevator
as I was leaving. I lost control, I admit. I just looked at her and said
through gritted teeth "I am MENOPAUSAL. It's too HOT! I like it about
65!!" Of course, as the elevator doors opened, she scurried away, clearly
frightened of the crazy woman. Didn't bother me. I'm used to it, actually.
The only good thing about this weather is
that after last night's thunderstorms and resulting showers, my plants are
loving the hot sun. I expect a bumper crop of everything. I so wish I could
make some more garden beds. I priced kits on the internet and they are
ridiculously expensive. I also asked my brother to price out the lumber on
building me a raised bed. Maybe he will take the hint and come over and build
me a couple more raised beds. I can dream, right?!
I saw this ad on a website, for a Bona mop -
a special mop for hardwood floors. Go here for the
fabulous demonstration. I might spring for it, if it were not $40! Good lord!
Buy a swiffer mop and dampen it, for heaven's sake. What marketing genius came
up with this?!
I was driving in to work today and saw a
license plate that simply said ICK. I pondered that the rest of the drive in.
Does the owner have hygiene issues?! It was on a nice black Lexus, so I didn't
automatically think plumber or pest control person. Of course, it could have
been initials, of some really dense guy named Isaac Crenshaw Knox. Who knows.
I had the weirdest dream ever last night.
Yep, it was one for the record books.
Years ago I worked just down the hall from a
lawyer who was a retired judge, and just came to work to do a little research
and sort of putter around. He was in his 60’s and his name was Richard. I was
in my 20’s. He seemed hopelessly old. Yet – and I know this will sound bizarre
– he was an attractive man. Really handsome. Not in a Johnny Depp sort of way,
but more like a craggy, William Holden sort of way. (If you don’t remember
William Holden I feel sorry for you.)
Well, I had not thought of Richard in years.
Heck, he died of cancer while I was still at that firm, and I went to his
funeral. Really sad.
Last night, however, I was embroiled in a
romance with him, in my wacky dream. I am 20 years older and he is the same
age. Suddenly, he’s a hottie. Interesting huh?!
Right before the dream ended, I told him I
loved him. He shot me a look of unmitigated horror. Thanks a lot, Grandpa.
I think I will write a romance novel.
Romance writers make the $$. I read a blog
by a romance writer and the books pretty much all the same plot. I bought and
read one book, and it was enough. Gorgeous man who looks like a model but who
is also sensitive and caring falls for hapless “I love Lucy” sort of heroine
who has vowed to avoid romance. They have endless cute meetings and silly
conflicts. There are some soft-core porn scenes. Book ends with them resolving
their conflicts and going off into the sunset. That’s the plot of all her
books. And I’m not knocking it – it works for her. She has written a lot of
books and makes a nice living. I should be so lucky – to hit upon such a great
formula and crank out the books.
However, all my thoughts about a romance
novel make me giggle. I don’t think I could write one without it turning out
hopelessly funny. I just don’t think I could do it.
When I was 12, someone left a box of
Harlequin romance books at our lake house one weekend. The next weekend, we
were there and I read one of them, in about two hours. I read several more of
them. I created an outline. I read another book. I had figured out the formula.
All the books were written to a formula. I never read another Harlequin romance
again. I was bored with them. However, I read other “romance” books,
occasionally.
I was stuck inside one entire weekend in
college – a bizarre snow storm in Athens, Georgia – and I had nothing to read.
I read a romance novel my roommate had bought. It was by Kathleen Woodiwiss. I
went on to read several more of her books. She, too, had a formula. She also
used the phrase “arms akimbo” a lot, which made me laugh out loud. But I
digress.
If I wrote a seduction scene for a romance
novel it would probably go something like this:
She loosened her long blonde hair and it
tumbled around her shoulders. She hoped it would hide the dandruff. He stared,
fantasizing about running his fingers through it, trying to ignore the black
roots. She touched his smooth, well-muscled chest and thought, did I remember
to shave my legs this morning? Will he care? Yikes, he’s so hot but he needs a
breath mint in a bad way..
See? I can’t help it. If I make the male
hero a guy in his 60’s with a hot prostate, you can imagine the comic
possibilities. Or maybe you don’t want to. I wouldn’t blame you.
Maybe I could write a romance novel about a
woman in her 40’s who’s looking for a sugar daddy in the closest retirement
community. Lots of possibilities there. Maybe the heroine gets in a cat fight
with a member of The Widow Harem, that group of determined older ladies who
want to have a hot romance with their own Richard. I imagine the granny would
win that fight. She would throw a casserole at the heroine’s head. Hmmm…. The
thoughts are starting to percolate…I could call it The Widow Harem – catchy
title, don’t you think?!
Would you read a funny romance novel, if it
had a decent plot and wasn’t porno? If not, why not?
