Last week I needed a little breather.
So I took myself to a late breakfast at a local cafe in my town. It’s decorated by someone who has never seen an episode of HGTV with its golf wall paper and golf art. The room is usually a quarter full. And all of those dining are retired folks.

But I like it. I like the sounds and smells of any place where the locals go to eat something a little more hearty than a bowl of Wheaties and a cup of Dannon.

Being at this cafe makes me happy. Happy enough that I go by myself. And I never eat out by myself. Ever. But for breakfast…that’s different. I always take my notebook, a pen, and a book. And somehow, in the bacon-scented air, I find a little peace and inspiration.

I like this place because:
1. I never run into anyone I know. Never have to talk. I sit in the same weirdly placed table that gives me a bird’s eye view of everyone, but is mostly out of sight.
2. The smell of coffee
3. Having someone else cook your breakfast is a total indulgence
4. You can listen to conversations and blatantly eavesdrop.
5. Community regulars. Friends. Tradition. The Every Wednesday the crowd looks different from The Every Thursday crowd.
6. Strawberry jelly on cheap white bread toast
7. 75  and older crowd. No care for attire. Lots of Keds, sandles & socks, Alfred Dunnar togs, and hair that told Miss Clairol goodbye years ago.
8. People watching. The way the 30-Something Guy walked to his table and gave me the “Hey, you’re too young to be here” nod.  And I lifted my chin and said, “Right back at you.”
9. Listening to the different laughs in the room. It’s the best sound in the world.
10. Fall trees outside the window. Red and orange are my favorite.
11. The vibe of a room full of people with nowhere to be, no rush to leave, their cell phones not a thought, just enjoying the moment. This sort of energy usually makes my eyes a little misty. Or maybe it’s the bacon.
12. The couple beside me who got up and left at the same time without saying, “Are you done?” “Yes, I’m done.” Because maybe after 50 years together you know what your spouse’s happy plate looks like.

It was a very good day.

So where do you go–a place that always makes you happy?

For some additional happy, you can win a copy of There You’ll Find Me HERE.

Last week I made chili.
I don’t love chili, but I like it. Especially if my cheese-to-chili ratio is in favor of the cheddar.
It’s an easy thing to fix and it’s gluten free. But it makes a ton, and I was about to barf on it by Wednesday.

This week.
I had a new recipe for some gluten-free, Paleo/Primal approved beef soup. There are a few ingredients I didn’t have, so I go to Wal-Mart. We’re classy here, so our Wal-Mart, has liquor. This soup called for red wine. I have no idea what to do with wine because it’s all nasty to me, so I call my mom and ask her what I need to get.

“Are you standing in front of a display of the cheap stuff?” she asks.
“I dunno.”
“Are there leaves on the label?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the cheap stuff.”
I looked. It was three bucks. I was already sold. “Seems okay to me.”
“You’re not supposed to cook with a wine you wouldn’t drink.”
Well, I think it all tastes like liquified ear wax, so I grab a bottle of the cheap red and carry on.

I spend TWO HOURS in the kitchen over this dang soup.
By the time I get to the wine portion of the recipe, I realize…I don’t have a corkscrew.

So I fret about it for 10 minutes. I’m exhausted with the souping, and I just stand in my kitchen and occasionally close my eyes, then reopen, waiting for a corkscrew to materialize. Or a pizza delivery guy.
Neither happens.

Then I have a brilliant thought. “Google exists!”
I do a quick search, print off my instructions, then go to my tool box.
I grab a hammer, a 2 inch screw, and a screwdriver.
I move the cats to safety, put on my imaginary hazard goggles, and go to work. Five minutes later, I had the thing uncorked. I felt kinda smart. Like I almost called Mensa and asked to speak to MacGyver.

So I pour the stuff in, let it boil or simmer or whatnot.
Later, I try the soup.
It tasted like liquified earwax.

So I made more chili.

Last night I had a dream I worked in a furniture store. This is no big stretch because I LOVE LOVE LOVE furniture stores.
But I had a secret life. By night…I was a zombie hunter. I don’t want to brag, but I saved a lot of lives. But man, it was a ton of work. Especially because I knew I had to be back up the next morning selling some La-Z-Boys.
I believe the Lord sometimes speaks in dreams.
So. I think we all know what this means.
When the Zombie Apocalypse hits…I’m your girl.
Actually I picture the Z.A. involving a whole militia of zombie hunters. I really hope I’m not the leader. I’m not really leader material. I’m more of a follower. Followers get to take more breaks.
Please don’t be jealous of my new future role in the saving of mankind. We can’t all sell sectional sofas and chase the undead.

This morning I was supposed to get up at 4:30, for my thrice-weekly workout with a group of mutually insane people. Except for the last few months I haven’t been able to get up and around consistently. It’s pretty pathetic. I have a workout buddy too. But do we hold each other accountable or inspire one another? No. We inspire each other to stay in our respective homes and sleep an extra 2 hours. It’s awful. Something has got to change.

I decided I need the trainer to call me at 4:30 in the morning and just yell at me. Just go all Jillian Michaels Biggest Loser on me.
Yelling negativities at 4:30 in the morning would be so motivating.
I’m pretty sure the trainer doesn’t want the job though.
So if you’re obnoxiously loud and mean, and don’t mind getting up before hens and chickens and roosters and crack dealers, then please give me a call. I think I have a job for you.
Because this isn’t just about me working on my fitness.
No, the stakes are much higher now.
Because now. Now I know I’m in training…to save the world.

I’m over at She Reads today, talking young adult reads. Come join us.

Congrats to Abbigail, winner of the Oasis Audio of There You’ll Find Me. Even if I hadn’t randomly drawn her name out, she deserved to win for having to read Billy Budd. Poor girl.
Abbigail, use my webpage contact form and send me your snail mail addy please!

So when I heard they were doing an audio for TYFM, I was really excited. I contacted the folks at Oasis and asked to audition to read. I was born for this! They said, “Sure.”
Then I mentioned, “I’m a little nervous about the different Irish accents though.”
“Irish accents?”
“Yes. Old lady Irish accent, old man Irish accent, middle aged man accent, teen guy who has lived in America half his life Irish accent.”
“Invitation to audition rescinded.”

Sigh. It could’ve been my big breakthrough. First an audio book, next a starring role beside that Ryan Gosling fellow.
Guess I’ll have to stick with writing.

But to make me feel better, the kind folks at Oasis did an interview as audio bonus material. Against my better judgment I’m sharing it today.
A few things I must let you know.
1. The big bad secret is when we do radio or audio interviews, we usually have the questions or general talking points ahead of time.
2. I did not have any questions or talking points ahead of time.
3. Therefore, I did not get to practice.
4. I’m a practicer.
5. When I just go freestyle, I cannot control my accent. I’m too busy thinking.
6. You can tell every time a thought leaves my head or I’m watching the 3 Legged Kitten climb up my curtains and I can’t even remember the question.
7. Listen at your own ear-peril.

And in case you were brave or bored enough to stay til the end, you might’ve caught my mention of the fact that I’m on a Writing Break. Half-way through Draft 103984958 of There You’ll Find Me, God said, “Put the pen down for a while.” So I did. In fact, I have for most of 2011. That was a hard book in a hard year, and I just need to recharge.
So far…I like recharging. I like it a lot.
And I’m excited to see what good comes from it.

Have a lovely weekend.