Good morning! (Note that exclamation point: that means I just drank my coffee.)
This weekend, we (and by we, I mean my brother, who is awesome) made some changes to my website, including a page about Just Listen , which has some background on where the story came from, as well as some other fun info. Also, I have a couple of confirmed appearance dates, both local: I’ll be at The Regulator Bookshop in Durham at 7pm on Thursday, April 6th–the pub date!—and Quail Ridge Books in Raleigh on Wednesday, April 12th at 7pm. More national stuff to come as soon as we (and by we, I mean the fabulous, calm-cool-collected Allison) has everything confirmed.
Speaking of publicity, and such, several people have suggested that I get a MySpace page. I checked it out this weekend, and put something together, but I’m not entirely sure 1) how it all works and 2) whether I can actually handle another Internet distraction. God knows I already waste enough time just with Livejournal and Google Entertainment News. I worry that if I add one more thing, I’ll never get anything done. Or leave the house. Which could, um, be a problem.
Speaking of domestic issues, my dog toy travails continue. At this point, Coco has ripped the stuffing out of 1) her chicken 2) her cat and 3) her bed. Everywhere I look, there’s stuffing. I keep having to take things away from her: the entire kitchen island is like a graveyard of maimed and mauled stuffed animals, missing their eyes, various appendages and most of their guts. It’s depressing. We have our last dog training class tonight: maybe they can show me how to teach her to be kind and gentle, and not rip things to shreds? Or maybe shaking hands is the best I can hope for. Oh, well. There’s always nylabones, I guess.
Finally, for no other good reason than it’s Monday and some of you may be feeling down, here’s a link to something that ALWAYS makes me laugh out loud, my very favorite snl skit ever. Okay, so it’s a bit of a distraction. But it’s a good one. And no one–chickens, cats, beds or otherwise—gets hurt. Can’t beat that.