Moi, Gina Conroy, Christa Allan at ACFW

So I’m sitting in the lobby-bar of the hotel at the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference where all the cool kids are hanging out. I’m drinking my Dasani, a vintage  2011 with notes of purified city water and the full-bodied flavor of Coca-Cola marketing. To my left is a small stage. And as I’m staring at the tile work of the bar and wondering if I’m the only person who wants to take a picture of this, the most freeing words come out of my mouth: “I hate karaoke.”

I do.
I’d never shared that before.

I want to be one of the cool kids.
But I hate karaoke.

It’s a train wreck of a disaster with rules I don’t get.
Are we doing hand motions? Loud volume? Harmony? Baby Got Back? Barry Manilow? Are we all agreed we will sound awful on purpose?

Just as soon as I bust out some Justin Timberlake falsetto, here comes a karaoke queen pulling out some Mariah Carey “Hero,” in a voice that probably gave her a free ride to Julliard.
Or if you sing for real, next up is a guy who does the worst version of “Bohemian Rhapsody.”  Bringing the room to it’s feet in a standing ovation.
I am convinced during karaoke, there is this silent communication, like baseball signals, that I just don’t see. So lifting your drink twice while twirling your skirt means bring out the Rascal Flatts? How do you people KNOW this?

And those of us who just sit at tables watching, we feel like dorks. We aren’t sure where to look, what to do. For a very long 3.5 minutes.
Clap? Nod? Woo-hoo? Go back to our hotel room and watch the rerun of King of Queens?

My name is Jenny.
I take pictures of tile work in bathrooms, lights in restaurants, and woodwork in stores.
And I hate karaoke.
So to my friends in low places, if you were the wind beneath my wings or a brown eyed girl in a brick house, please know that you will never get a musical shoutout from me in a blaze of glory providing you a total eclipse of the heart on your tin roof.
Rusted.

Your turn. What’s a cool thing you dislike?
Don’t leave me hanging. Alone with my brave confessions.

The above is a photo from Branson, MO last month. I have no idea what they’re trying to say. But when read aloud…it has some entertainment value.

From Pinterest: The color of your top plus the first object to your right equals your super hero name.

I’m The Lilac Stapler.
Enemies fear me.
Peonies and bulletin boards tremble at my name.

What are you?

So Wednesday we were all positive and stuff. LOVE your lists.

Today let’s discuss our peeves of the moment. Because I had to have a Public Service Announcement with my students yesterday and let them know one of us in the room was tired of a current acceptable practice in behavior I was observing in our building.

So my PPTM (Pet Peeve This Month) is when people respond to your greeting (good morning, hello, your pants are on fire) with a mute response. You know what I’m talking about. The nod. The half-smile. NOT GOOD ENOUGH. The correct response should involve actual words. That you speak. I swear, I’m gonna make them practice. Don’t you be thinkin’ you can come up in my SPEECH classroom and be all–

Anyway. Here are some recent incorrect examples I’ve observed.

Kind person who was raised right: Good morning!
Person 2: smile

Kind person who was raised right: Hello!
Person 3: Chin lift “wave”

Kind person who was raised right: Did you know a giraffe is the only animal that can clean its own ears with its tongue?
Person 4: blink

That’s my peeve of the month. These sorts of things drive us delicate Southern flowers absolutely nuts.
What about you? What are your peeves of the moment?

I love…

Gala apples. I’ve tried every other kind, and there is nothing like a Gala. You Honeycrisp enthusiasts, stand down. Because you are wrong.

Fall. The leaves, the scents, the sounds. High school football and band booster hamburgers. Windows open and an extra blanket thrown on the bed.

Cardigans. They are the mashed potatoes and gravy of clothing. Comfort. Home.

O magazine. I know there are Oprah dislikers out there, and that’s fine. But if you have shunned her magazine because of a belief that she carries crystals in her pocket and has a tattoo of Dr. Phil on her left buttock, then you are really missing out. Today I learned that the Rapper Common goes to church on New Year’s Eve every year. And I like that. Because I have a somewhat similar tradition. (Though mine does not include driving home in my Bentley afterward.) And I learned about Patience Salgado, a 35-year old woman who does and encourages others to do good deeds. The woman has even set up a free cotton candy drive-through. How she and I are not friends, it defies explanation. We have so much in common.  She likes to give away county fair treats. And I like to eat them.

Pinterest. Thanks to author Natalie Lloyd, I’m pretty much obsessed. It’s the best thing to ever come out of the internet in recent years. (Minus those Google interactive logos.) For years I’ve kept folders on my email to store things I’d found online like (nerd alert) “favorite fonts”  “book cover love” “decorating ideas” “reasons to go back and get my accounting degree.”  And now there is Pinterest, a place where I can store all that and SEE it. It’s like a virtual bulletin board. From there I learned my glass hurricanes filled with acorns should be filled with green split peas in the spring and summer. My candles had to be nestled among acorns til August. They were so ashamed.

Tom’s nonfluoride toothpaste. Because fluoride is bad news. Look it up. I bet Common did.

Pictures of cupcakes.

Talking about other people’s books. I just read Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine. It’s a book about a ten-year-old girl who has Asperger’s, and she struggles to deal with the loss of her brother, the one who protected her and made the world easier to handle. But now he’s gone, taken in a tragic moment, and she doesn’t understand. So, so good. Unlike anything I’ve ever read. I’ve had students with Asperger’s, but this really gave me new insight. And it’s a beautiful story that had me all teared up when I was done. In a good way. The ending is nothing short of literary magic.

Zappos. This company and I have to stop meeting so much.

My student, who told me on his way out of class, “I’m so excited about what I wrote today.”  I just wanted to tell him to hold onto that feeling. Pinkie swear. No matter what.

The smell of coffee. I’m not old enough to drink it yet, but it sure smells nice.

New nail polish. This week’s choice is All Hail the Queen by Butter, not to be confused with the color Frilly Knickers. Doesn’t stay on worth a dang, but if you hold it toward the sun, it sure is pretty. Edward and Bella, I, too, know the power of sparkles.

Peanut butter.

Writing a blog post to the new Lady Antebellum cd. I sing alto, Hills and Charles.

A three-legged kitten who runs non-stop and makes me laugh every day. Except when he scratches my leather furniture. That’s going to put me in therapy. Today he caught a small snake, the kind that often find their way into my house. And if the reptile is like the others, it was headed for my bedroom. Like some bad foreshadowing from some twisted Lifetime movie.

That’s my list.
What about you?
What things are you loving right now?

I’m looking for ten kind folks to send There You’ll Find Me in exchange for influencing or reading the book with the intention to review and tell the world, should you happen to like the book.

If you’re interested, email me on my contact page and tell me:

a. Addy of your blog if you have one.
b. Number of commenters on your typical blog posts. Or number of visitors per day or week.
c. Where you will post reviews (Amazon? Goodreads? Grocery store bulletin boards?)