To quote Arthur Dent, "This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays." Which in no way applies to me, but it's the only pithy quote about Thursday I could think of. In fact, it may be the only quote about Thursdays in existence. If you can think of any other literary or cinematic quotes pertaining to Thursdays, please write it in reverse in lemon juice on a sheet of papyrus, seal it inside a tennis ball, dip it in rooster blood, bury it in your back yard during the first full moon after the equinox, then chant, "I never could get the hang of Thursdays." five times. My agents will be in touch.
After much deliberation over the past six months, Ethan finally picked a Halloween costume. Earlier in the year, it was a werewolf in a suit, which was later changed to a Roman-style warrior a la
Gladiator or 300, which evolved into an Egyptian pharaoh. The final decision seems to have been inspired by this bit of Photoshopping
, hence his decision to go as a zombie skateboarder. Jacquelyn and I shredded some clothes and doused him in blood. Wanna see?
Wasn't that a nice little pictorial story? I thought so.
Today, I got a hair cut from Stephen at HAIR, stopped at Trader Joe's for some yummy groceries, and bicycled home. It's definitely getting cold enough to make me consider putting the bike away for the season, but it's not quite that
bad yet. I just keep forgetting to buy gloves, as my hands are the only unbearably cold part of my bod.
Oh yes, NaNoWriMo starts today. Since Ethan is too young to read my first novel (and he regularly asks when he can) I've decided to write Ethan a novel and I'm going to use NaNoWriMo as impetus to do so. Ethan has asked for a sort of apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic adventure. We'll see how it goes.
I'll leave you here, dear reader, while I eat some Trader Joe's BBQ Chicken Pizza and do some laundry and think of a starting point for an apocalyptic novel. I suppose I should start with an apocalypse, huh? Yet I can't seem to get around the fact that apocalypse
is Greek for revelation
. What, oh, what, shall I reveal?