What Was I Thinking?

Umm, yeah. I registered for the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention. Do you know how much money that was? And how much the rooms are? And the parking? And all the stuff I have to buy (like a suitcase) because I don’t travel? And all the promo stuff I have to get?

Good thing this convention is deductable for me. Still, please don’t tell Rott how much I spent…

Actually, he has a fair idea. He already ix-nayed on the parking for 5 days at $35 a day.  “Oh, no. You can pay ME half that and I’ll drop you off Tuesday and pick you up on Sunday!”

Yeah, right. I’ll buy gas which means he better drive me in the Infiniti and NOT the little Honda. If I gotta be chauffeured, I want to be seen arriving in the luxury SUV. Never mind that it’s 8 years old. It’s still an Infiniti.

And idiot that I am…I have to be ME. I can’t just get a black suitcase. I have to get a giraffe print one. I can’t just get a black sleeve for my netbook (I’m not taking the full giraffe print laptop case I already have because I’m not taking all the accessories.) I have to get the giraffe print one. I can’t just carry my giraffe wallet by its leash. I have to get a new Dooney letter carrier bag that I can sling across my shoulders. Giraffe print, of course.

I didn’t get new pajamas. They didn’t have giraffe print ones. *grumble, grumble*

Damn it. People are gonna remember me. Even if it’s to laugh at my giraffe crap.

And did I tell you that I get to sign books? The print ones and cover flats for the ebooks? I DO! Two days in a row! OMG! I will totally feel like a real author then. But I think I need to figure out how to sign my pen name…

This is like a new world for me. I’m excited and scared to freaking death. And the money…*moans* What was I thinking? Do you know what I could do with the money? I could buy a new washing machine and a new battery for the Infiniti, both of which died last week. But no. I had to indulge myself. My ego. Well, my author ego really. Not that I have much of one to indulge but by the time this convention is through I’ll either have a little bit bigger one or what I do have will be reduced to rubble.

Have I mentioned I’m a complete wallflower who is terrified of meeting new people? Hilly remembers how I am. I would never have faced Dave Diego without her. But here I am willingly facing the firing squad of hundreds of people on my own.

Someone told me I would be okay once they slapped that name tag on me that says, “LEX VALENTINE, AUTHOR.” And maybe that is the crutch I need to lean on to make it through. I need to remember that even though I am pretty much low on the totem pole of authorship and pretty much unknown, there are SOME people out there who will recognize my name. I just have to keep remembering that I had the balls to walk up to New York Times bestselling author Allison Brennan at the Orange County RWA meeting and she made my year by looking at my name tag and saying, “I know who you are.”

Maybe that’s what I was thinking when I whipped out my credit card and paid for this convention.

Now, how about a Marcus that I don’t need my credit card to pay for?

Oh yum. God, he makes my Mondays easier. Despite what I spent this weekend. *winces*

Have a great Monday everyone!

So Impressed

Remember that I said Jester had found me the most perfect song ever for one of my Lex Valentine videos? Well, he did. I liked the song so much that I went and listened to the whole album and then downloaded it from Rhapsody. This band is the shit. I went to their website looking for contact info and lo and behold their singer/songwriter’s email addy was there. So I emailed him and asked for permission to use ‘Nikki’ in my video. I think it was less than an hour later he got back to me and said… YES! How freaking cool is this guy?

So, now that I have Adam Cohen’s permission, here is my Pink Chair Diaries Trilogy video.

That’s two bands now that have given me permission to use their music. Since Friday is a promo day on some of the Yahoo loops I belong to, I’ll be touting the videos! I want to do all I can to get my name out there which in turn, with the videos, gets the band names out there too. It’s just a scratching back thing. I’m still waiting to hear back from singer/songwriter Dan Wilson. I want to use his song Breathless for Runaway Train. I tried it in my test video and it’s awesome, but I prefer to have permission. I just feel better if I do.

Although, the Silver Queen vid I made that I like so much, uses Evanescence, and I doubt any email I sent to any contact for them would get me permission to use the song. So I’m gonna make the video private. I really made it for Shiny Bitch anyway. I’ll think of another song that I can get permission for and then post the official Silver Queen vid.

One more thing before I go. PseudoSJ sent me a twat about a contest where they are giving away a Dooney giraffe purse. Now, I know I already have one, but this is the BIG one! The one I originally tried to get, but didn’t have the money for. So I’m entering the contest as many times as I can in the hope that maybe, just maybe, luck will shine on me this year and give me a birthday gift of winning this purse. It’s a longshot, but I have to try. The contest is at HandbagPlanet.com.

I’m home today working on my WIPs, trying to finish this Valentine story. It’s not going well. Ugh. Anyway, if anyone would like to be my beta reader, I could use a couple of people. You need a sharp eye to catch my left out words and commas, and you gotta be able to tell me if something does flow well or make sense to you. If you’re interested send me an email at winter at winterheart dot com.

BTW, this is my 200th post. Go me! Happy Friday!

Confessions of a Secret Fluff

Twelve steps work for some people. I don’t think it would work for me. I mean, I don’t think anyone would take me seriously if I got up in front of the group and said, “Hi. My name is Winter and I’m secretly fluffy. I have an obsession with… designer handbags.” I am fluffy. Girlie. Googly eyed over some really feminine things. I never used to be like this. I used to be a much more hardy soul. As I get older though, I find myself liking some of these freakishly feminine things. Things that are distinctly… fluffy.

Now, I promise not to post my kid’s baby pics or give you a TT with 13 reasons why I love my old man, but c’mon. I’ve subjected you to my purple toes already! So you know I like to do the pedicure thing. Well, I’ve graduated. I now do the pedicure AND manicure thing. I even buy my own OPI polish so I’m not using the salon’s watered down stuff. I have a thing for OPI’s Russian Collection. Currently, my fingers have on Russian Navy and my toes have Affair in Red Square. I have Siberian Nights, Midnight in Moscow, and Catherine the Grape too. Manicures and pedicures are fluffy things. You do not give a shit about my manicure and pedicure, do you?

Well, I’m copping to the mani/pedi thing only as a preface to showing you how serious my illness truly is. I came home yesterday wiped out from more than 10 hours at the office without lunch and nary a break. I checked taxbrain.com and lo and behold, my refund has hit the bank. CHA CHING. What did I, in my exhausted state, do? I went to eBay. I went to eBay and typed in 3 little words. DOONEY AND BOURKE. $86 and a matching star purse and wallet later, I left eBay and went to… uh huh, you guessed it… dooneyandbourke.com. I checked out the price of the giraffe print purse I’ve been lusting over for months. I checked out a cool bracelet. I put them both in the shopping cart and almost had a coronary. The cart was almost $300 once tax and shipping was slapped on. Holy Handbags!

Okay, I saved the cart. I did not check out. That was the first non-fluffy thing I’d done since I got home, if you discount sitting in front of the computer in my underwear and a ratty Eddie Bauer t-shirt. I went back to eBay… and found that same giraffe print bucket purse WITH a matching wallet going for less than the price of the brand new giraffe print purse. I put in a bid and someone promptly topped me. After that, I put the item on watch. I’ve been watching since last night. The auction ends tomorrow. I have not yet decided to buy the purse. Even though it is used, if it goes for less than $200 it is a steal. So, I’m watching.

While I’m watching tonight, after yet another 10+ hour day with no lunch break, I find a Dooney bracelet. This one has charms on it… fucking PINK charms. Ooooh. The one in the cart at Dooney’s website doesn’t have charms and is $55 + Tax + Shipping. This one is less than $50, has free shipping and no tax. At 3 minutes left in the auction, I’m a click fiend. The bracelet is now mine.

So, do you think that has satisfied my girlish obsession for awhile? Nuh uh. I’m still watching the giraffe purse. I still lust after it more than I lust after Matt-Man’s knobby knees and tented boxers. I lust after it more than I lust after Marcus. *GASP* That is like the ultimate fluffy confession. That I want a giraffe print designer handbag more than Marcus Schenkenberg. I suppose it’s because the purse is attainable, and Marcus, to my everlasting dismay, is not.

I am mostly sardonic in nature, but deep inside me there is a fluffy feminine girl who buys designer purses, paints her toenails purple or red, loves getting a manicure and pedicure, and… wants a Tiffany padlock pendant. *sniff* I’m sorry. I know you all thought I was above that girlish squeeing behavior. Go ahead. Feel free to call me a poser. I feel like one. Take away my Dooney camera bag purse with the rainbow candy colored zipper. I deserve your scorn. Maybe I’ll make up for it by giving Mr. Fabulous a cleavage shot in a Frederick’s of Hollywood black satin corset to post for his cleavage contest. After all, no self respecting fluff, who adores Victoria’s Secret, would buy her corset at Frederick’s. I, however, wouldn’t think of buying it anywhere else but the last bastion of skanks and sluts. I guess there’s hope for me after all.