In Which The Writer Weasels

I could finish up my chapter of Witchfinder and put it up… I could.  But this is one of those days when it would take me to five, maybe later.  Why, you ask?  Because it’s prom night hereabouts, and I’m on mommy clothing-and-arrangements duty.  That means I get interrupted every five minutes, for those who don’t have teens.

Life being what it is, I figure it’s the best part of valor to say “ahscrewit” and go clean the house (a job remarkably lacking in the need for concentration) while dealing with these mini-emergencies.

When he shall have gone to meet his friends, and I shall have time and quiet to think I’ll finish the chapter, which will go up either tonight or tomorrow.

For now, I’ll spend quality time with the duster and the mop.  (What?  Prime plotting opportunity.)

Welcome Instapundit Readers: The ways in which da blogfather links are mysterious indeed.  This was my apology for not posting the chapter of the novel I’ve been writing in public, a chapter a week.  If you want to see the foregoing, it’s here.  Since y’all are already out here, though, you might as well take a look at yesterday’s post and the day before’s post.  PARTICULARLY that one, as it’s a recurring theme in my writing.  Also, read the comments.  My commenters are the funniest and smartest people in the interwebs.

28 responses to “In Which The Writer Weasels

  1. Now, while you may have problems with the shopping for new clothes, here is a point to be glad HE is not a SHE.

  2. What kind of nerd kid is this? Going to *prom*.

  3. Paula Handley (aka Mystik Waboose)

    Okay, now the whole post about the suit makes sense!

  4. A few decades ago I worked part-time at a movie theatre (min. wage plus free soda & all the popcorn I could eat) which was located across the street from one of this area’s traditionally favourite pre-prom restaurants. The ticket seller/concession booth faced such that it was a treasured employee pastime during idle moments between shows to provide jaded commentary on the prom dresses.

  5. ppaulshoward

    Some may want to “whack me” but IMO Family is more important than you getting stuff for us to read. [Smile]

  6. I don’t trust mops: excellent plotters, but completely untrustworthy.

    • Well… back in the seventies when I wore an afro which closely approached a mop head, I was a lousy plotter, and fairly untrustworthy. Now I plot much better. I’m still untrustworthy.

  7. Kids these days don’t know how to dress! (Also they won’t get off my lawn!) They also don’t know how to live it up. This bunch of nerdlings is planning on a pizza restaurant pre-prom. Phe. I went to a five star place. Of course, I was also proposed to post-prom. Sigh. No, it wasn’t Dan. I’d done everything but the proverbial belly dance with a jewel in my belly button to get him to ask me. Being thicker than two planks put together about interactions with the female of the species (a characteristic that, to my chagrin, he seems to have passed on to BOTH kids) he didn’t take such hopeful hints as direct insults, taunts and/or extremely short skirts that accidentally became shorter when one sat down, he never ASKED. I SHOULD (Hey I was eighteen) have got him to tutor me in math, but then we’d now be 31 years married, instead of twenty seven, and possibly have many more kids (who knows?) Anyway, as I said, husband failed to ask me to prom, something for which he is still made to pay on a semi-regular basis, though it seems to have no effect. BUT at any rate, the unsatisfactory prom involved a REAL restaurant, nice flowers and a nice dress. Kids TODAY have no clue how to live it up. They’ll arrive at an appreciation of the finer things in life in their fifties when their looks are gone and other stuff starting to creak. And that serves them right for going around being young. (And for not getting off my lawn.)

    • Hell, a pizza party with like minded friends sounds great to me.

      Shortly before my prom I found out that my then boyfriend had asked a girl who had a reputation of being very easy. I went by myself. The high point of the my evening was finding out that the ex-boyfriend’s date was hiding in a bathroom stall where she crying… No, I did not do anything to her, I actually liked the poor silly girl.

  8. My high school had no prom. I did get dressed up for the graduation ceremony, though. (And the wedding ceremony, couple years later, was in the parents-in-law’s back yard (nice pagoda, before time and poison ivy overtook it), with a pot-luck reception in the carport. Though the hand-made, hand-dyed silk outfit was very nice and just what I wanted.)

    Pre-kid, I dressed up for SF cons. Alas, no longer; comfort is all now!

  9. You are lucky. Our 3 sons all needed a tux, limo rentals, a good meal at a pricy restaurant and a corsage. They helped but… Then there were the proms at other schools they attended!

  10. Heh. For my senior prom, my dueña’s sis-in-law (ran a model agency) did my makeup and hair, while another relative of hers loaned me one of the dresses she’d worn for the Miss Texas pageant. I left my glasses at home and savored all the whispers of “Who’s that? Dang, she’s gorgeous! Who’d she come with?” et cetera. It was worth squinting for a few hours to see people discover that the Archnerd could be beautiful if she chose to be. And I was the only non-JROTC person escorted under the sabres, and by a Navy captain no less! No date or dinner out beforehand, though.

  11. Ah, yes, proms. Both our kids went to their friend’s prom (tickets for seating at a table had to be purchased). Boy child’s claim to fame was being the *only* male amongst 11 females at ‘his’ table. One of the chaperones wanted to know who he’d bribed, and how much :-). But tuxedoes (got a deal when the high school band could *purchase* a tuxedo for $80!) and formals, and a limo and expensive dinner for girl-child’s senior prom — but, again, was a group activity. That was last year – thank goodness!

  12. Nice. Prom night there and graduation night here at UofM. I’m staying at home and listening to the parties. (Whether I like it or not!)

  13. Good on you for making the right choices: mom stuff and bagging the writing (well, postponing the writing, letting it percolate) in favor of doing both things better.

  14. There is a Brad Paisley song (yes, Brad Paisley) It Did</I<:

    And I said to myself
    It doesn’t get better than this
    No, it doesn’t get better than this
    And it did, it did, woah, it did

  15. Didn’t go to a prom; in fact, didn’t attend any school-related events in thirteen-years of public education (Kindergarten, then 1-12). Way I figured it: “These people can’t stand me; the feeling is mutual; why the f*** should I pony up a couple grand to spend several hours with these f***ing a**headed c***gargling d*****canoes?”