Ever since I sold my first children's book manuscript I've been trying really hard to hide the "inappropriate" side of my personality. It's like Bob Saget when he got the "Full House" gig.
Turns out I could've sold a lot more books by throwing caution to the wind.
So anyway, I'm officially declaring that if my screenplay, "The Pledge Class of De Kappa Teta" ever actually gets sold, I'm using my real name.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
When I took Kahlua and Bailey out for a walk early this evening we met a buff Cocker Spaniel who was being carried by his owners. The woman tearfully explained that Merlin was 16 years old and this was his last walk.
They let me pet him and tell him what a good boy he was and how he seemed like he'd had a good life. I said he reminded me of the buff Cocker Spaniel I had when I was growing up--Daisy, who lived to be 14. (Pictured above, circa 1982, with her uptight sibling, Dixie, aka "Grinch Dog.")
At 10pm tonight I walked Kahlua and Bailey to Central Park to let them run around without their leashes. We don't do that very often. But it was a special occasion, in honor of all the Cocker Spaniels that anyone has ever loved.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
10am: Samuel and I got a rental car and drove to New Jersey for a DeLorean event. Samuel got a DeLorean keychain, note pad, and polo shirt.
Jennifer and Ethan stayed in the city to go shopping for jewelry beads.
2pm: Back in NYC. I dropped off Samuel at the movie theater for a birthday party.
3pm: With the Yankees on the radio, I picked up Jennifer and Ethan from bead shopping and returned the rental car.
6:30pm: Jennifer went out to dinner with a friend. Ethan and I walked in the rain to 93rd Street to pick up Samuel from his friend's house. We had sushi, then--when we were finally dry--walked back home in the rain.
8pm: I did laundry and took all the recyclables down to the basement while the boys watched non-stop on-demand episodes of "Adventure Time," which I just don't get. Kahlua is staying close to me because she's afraid of thunder--or "Adventure Time," I'm not sure which.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Samuel's class took a field trip upstate today to release baby trout they had hatched from eggs earlier in the year. I don't know why I find that kind of touching. Maybe I'm projecting my feelings for Samuel onto the baby trout. I'm not ready to release him into the wild yet.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
After lamenting that "How About a Kiss for Me?" appeared to have been relegated to the $3 discount bin by Scholastic, Jennifer calmly read the fine print and informed me that it was a paperback version, not the hardcover.
I didn't know they'd made a paperback version. So...that would be...good.
And THEN I saw that it's also being offered as a "Read-Along" CD/book combo. Which I knew nothing about. But also good.
And that little girl with the circa 1978 headphones is very cute. She is probably about 40 now.
So...I'm going to shut up now and be happy.
Link to Scholastic flyer.
1. See a Mister Softee truck on your way home from work. Think, "Man, if I weren't trying to lose a few pounds, and if I weren't about to have dinner, I'd probably get a milkshake."
2. Walk ten feet past the Mister Softee truck, then stop and think, "I know! I'll have a milkshake for dinner! I'll order it with a banana so that it's healthy, like a protein shake. I really don't drink enough milk anyway."
3. Order a black-and-white milkshake with a banana. Order a cherry freeze for your youngest son. Order another black-and-white milkshake for your oldest son--but this one without the banana.
4. Take the drinks home in a bag. Give the cherry freeze to your youngest son. Take a drink of one of the milkshakes--it's the one with banana in it. Give the other one to your oldest son.
5. Drink the milkshake with the banana in it in about five long straw sucks. Think, "Man, that was good. I'm glad I ordered that for dinner. I'm feeling healthier already."
6. Wait for your oldest son to come out of the bedroom--his milkshake tastes like bananas. Stupid Mister Softee guy--I TOLD him no banana in the second one. What an idiot!
7. Give the second milkshake to your wife. Watch her set it on the table. Watch it begin to melt. Ask her if she is going to drink it. She says no, she isn't.
8. Drink about half of it, quickly, just because you hate to see a perfectly good milkshake go to waste, then set it back down while you check your email.
9. Think, "Oh, man, am I ever full. I should NOT have drunk part of that second milkshake. I'm going to be sick."
10. Drink the rest of the second milkshake.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
How the boys spent the past two weeks:
Great Wolf Lodge. The Met. Tree climbing in Central Park. Sleepover. First Mister Softee of 2011. Staying up until 1am. Buying a flight simulator joystick. Museum of the Moving Image. Indoor rock climbing. "Diary of a Wimpy Kid 2."
Back to school. How depressing.