BOMBAY II - the revision

With nothing much happening, I have decided to revise my Bombay post in the manner of Strunk and White.... reading is not necessary as this is my first try at this kind of writing and is probably a gigantic failure. Enjoy, I say, with a flourish of my hands.

Not ready to settle for Guitar Hero and 40’s for my boyfriend’s 28th, we decided on posh restaurant eating to raise the festivities from the redneck classification. We tarted up, brought our doppleganger duo, and paid parking rates rather than circle 15 minutes in increasing frustration. Not prone to dining where reservations are encouraged, we assumed it the height of manners to show early by twenty minutes. This is, apparently, not so. The waitress, on hearing my name, squeaked “the table isn't ready! Your excessive promptness has unsettled us.”

Being inherently gracious, we sidled up to the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Five couples arrived after us and were seated. We ordered a second round of drinks and drained them. Emboldened by boredom, I approached the Hostess and inquired after our table. She gasped, clasped her hand to her face “I need to get your table ready.” I bellowed "how dare you forget me, you heathen!" and threw her in the fountain, or would have, if not for my lingering bout of cowardice .

A table was decorated in haste in the center of the dining area. My mouth busied itself with watering, and my gaze narrowed. With each linen straightened and fork polished, the waitress led us past the elegant table to one in the back. Four chairs were stuffed underneath with little room to maneuever without ruffling the neighbors. A single spotlight glared on C’s head. One could assume we aren't as pretty as we thought.By this time, half our party was decidedly tipsy. We ordered another round of drinks. Eventually, our waitress showed. I ordered the Chicken Tikka – grilled chicken with the appearance of having marinated in cherry kool-aid -- C favored the lamb curry. My portion of lamb was served with a heaping side of invisible guilt.

I twiddled my thumbs, memorized the décor, made small talk. Despairing of the waitstaff, the bartender, having stalled several minutes, brought our drinks. More waiting commences. At that precise moment, half our party is drunk, having eaten nothing all day. Alcohol paired with an empty stomach leads to depravity, so, a blessing occured when the busboy arrives bearing food. Balancing the overloaded tray on an adjacent table, he served the first two dishes. Then, as he turned, the entire tray cartwheeled off the table, and smeared our curries, rice and naan into the carpet.

One would assume this guaranteed prompt replacement of our food. Assumptions, based on wishes rather than fact, rarely find themselves in the “true” category. The clock hand ticked another quarter turn as we licked the empty plates, desperate for calories. Our waitress appeared querying "where's the rest of your food?" We informed her the only curry served to the table was currently splattered on A’s purse. “Oh, that was you?” replied the waitress, near giggling. Her surprise divulges two things; one, the idiot that dropped our food failed to inform anyone; and two, this place sucks.

Ten minutes pass and our waitress delivers 2 servings of rice for four people, half the garlic naan, lamb curries and extra lentils. The food was tasty, but unimpressive. For all the trimmings, I would have expected more. C was served a complimentary mango mousse that is fluffy and sweet and had A digging around with her spoon long after the last drop was consumed. We asked for the check. They charged for the missing naan, and all of the drinks, which are easy to comp when screwing up horribly. Oh yeah, and this place damn expensive for poor folk.

Total time: 2 hours.

NaNo sucks.

I wrote approximately 3,000 words last weekend. I finished a new first chapter that incorporates all of the new backstory and an entirely revamped plot. While it may seem I am failing with aplomb, through NaNo, I have solved the great mysteries of my novel that blockaded my writing. I shall now burst forth with unprecedented speed to break the NaNo land speed record.

I think I am in love...

I fell for two men this weekend. There names are Strunk & White.

For those unaware, they are, respectively, the writer and editor of Elements of Style. This book taught what countless hours of English classes have failed: the use of the semi-colon. Far and wide have I searched for an explanation concerning that drasted dot suspended over the lazy comma. No English majors, no janitors, no J school participants, upon questioning, could explain the existence of this grammatical conundrum.

The semi-colon rules follow as such:

If two or more clauses, grammatically complete and not joined by a conjunction, are to form a single compound sentence, the proper mark of punctuation is a semicolon.

Stevenson's romances are entertaining; they are full of exciting adventures.
It is nearly half past five; we cannot reach town before dark.

It is of course equally correct to write the above as two sentences each, replacing the semicolons by periods.

Stevenson's romances are entertaining. They are full of exciting adventures.

It is nearly half past five. We cannot reach town before dark.

If a conjunction is inserted, the proper mark is a comma (Rule 4).

Stevenson's romances are entertaining, for they are full of exciting adventures.
It is nearly half past five, and we cannot reach town before dark.

Note that if the second clause is preceded by an adverb, such as accordingly, besides, so, then, therefore, or thus, and not by a conjunction, the semicolon is still required.

I had never been in the place before; so I had difficulty in finding my way about.

In general, however, it is best, in writing, to avoid using so in this manner; there is danger that the writer who uses it at all may use it too often. A simple correction, usually serviceable, is to omit the word so, and begin the first clause with as:

As I had never been in the place before, I had difficulty in finding my way about.

If the clauses are very short, and are alike in form, a comma is usually permissible:

Man proposes, God disposes.
The gate swung apart, the bridge fell, the portcullis was drawn up.

The main reason one uses semi-colons is to link two sentences, with the same subject, to inform eachother. i.e.

John was mean; he liked to kill kittens.

NoNo

Just got 616 words detailing the outline of my whole novel. Which, in case you're keeping count leaves me totally screwed.

NaNo is bending time and space to defeat me

Where did the rest of the month go? It's half gone starting today. And am I at the halfway mark? No. It therefore follows that external forces are thwarting me. But, on the bright side, I solved my novel problem and can now move on unencumbered.

And the Worst Service Award goes to... BOMBAY!

Intending to swank up the decidedly low-class* festivities surrounding my boyfriend's birthday, I made reservations at a posh restaurant in Hillzcrest. We got all tarted up, brought our doppleganger duo, and actually paid for parking in a nod to our swanky togs. So excited were we, that our habitually late party showed twenty minutes early for our reservation. Maybe I haven't made enough reservations in my life, but I assumed it would be the height of manners to show early so they wouldn't have to hold the table for a bunch of ruffians. I was mistaken, methinks, the waitress, on hearing my name, stared at me in horror and told me the table wasn't ready because we were *gasp* early then ran away to do stuff.
Being that we are inherently gracious, we sidled up to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. At least five couples that showed after us were seated. We ordered another round of drinks. When those were finished, I sauntered up to Hostess and inquired after our table. She, yet again, gasped and clasped her hand around the cross on her neck and squeaked that she needed to get our table ready. And I screamed at the top of my lungs, "how dare you forget me, you heathen!"and threw her in to the fountain. It was either that, or I went back to the bar and waited quietly for another ten minutes as they hastily set up a table in the middle of the dining area. When that was finished, she led us past the beautiful table to a cramped table in the back with one weird spotlight glaring on the birthday boy's head. I guess we ain't as pretty as we thought.
By this time, half our party was decidedly tipsy. We ordered another round of drinks. Ordering time came I got some Chicken tikka. You know, that chicken that looks like it's been marinated in cherry kool-aid and grilled in heaven's barbecue. We also got lamb curry which is served with a heaping side of guilt.
Then we wait, and wait. We wait some more. Finally, the bartender takes pity on us and finally brings our drinks. So we wait some more. At that precise moment, half of our party has finally passed into drunk, having eaten nothing all day. I don't know if you have ever been around drunken, famished people, but it ain't pretty. Suddenly, the food arrives and a crisis is averted.
The busboy puts the overloaded tray on a table next to us and serves the first two dishes. Then, as he is turning, the entire tray cartwheels off the table and smears our curries, rice and naan into the carpet.
You would think this would put us at the top of the list to receive our food, but no dice. Fifteen minutes later, licking the plates clean, we finally see our waitress again. "Where's yo' food?" she asks, then lets it slip that no one told her we were the people whose food is now a permanent part of the decor (and A's purse).
Ten minutes later, we get one bowl of rice for four people, half the naan we ordered, our lamb curries and some random lentils. We have to ask for more rice and are charged for extra naan when the check comes ten minutes after we ask for it. Oh yeah, and this place damn expensive for poor folk.

Total time: 2 hours.

*40's and guitar hero, while totally awesome, do conjure images of white tanks and sweat stains

NaNo you selfish crab, give me back my weekend

So, despite having my bf's b-day, I managed to somehow crank out near 7,000 words this weekend of backstory. Turns out this little town is quite interesting and everyone's got drug problems and anger management issues. Pretty sweet huh. Still working on the backstory for the nemesis, but I promise there will be beheadings and swordplay!

Word Count: 17,520

Words to Goal: 7,485

New Word Goal: 25,005 (friday night 12am)

Words to end: 32,480

Me so tired...

Got a new word count. So, Vanna, tell them what the new total is!

Word Count: 10,733

Words to Goal: a million, or 7,604, whichever comes first

New Word Goal: 18,337 (sunday night 12am)

Words to end: 39,267

Woohoo! Wasn't sure I was ever going to pass the 10K mark.

me ate gator burger.

I have incorporated the soul of this scaly being and am now that much more powerful...

now more than the termites and William Scranton III will fear me.

Haha I wrote something

Well, just when you pick up a big project, that's probably when life throws a bunch of lemons at you a little too hard and you wake up in a hospital bed two days later and realize you have missed your word count by a landslide. Was that last sentence a run-on? Or was it an amalgamation of mixed metaphors lengthy enough to throw even the most dedicated reader into a snoring stupor? Either way, it boils down to the fact that I take no responsibility in my lack of word count. It was the other guy's fault.

Word Count: 8,905

Words to Goal: a million, or 9,432, whichever comes first

New Word Goal: 18,337 (sunday night 12am)

Words to end: 41,095

I say damn! I gotta step on it. But most of my writing tonight was backstory that informs the frontstory and is worth, like, the weight of a hamster in gold.

Ugh, with the time change

Everything else is peachy keen with that silly little thing call daylight savings. Sleeping in an extra fake hour because you forgot to go to sleep early -- totally awesome. Showing up to work late with your hair still in curlers because you pretended to forget about said time change -- priceless. Having your three hour novel class be extended to your muscle memory of 10:30 instead of 9:30 -- Absolute shite. However, the bonus of actually being in the class will be passed on to you via my world famous writing tips! (oh, and just a forewarning, my typing seems to be going the way of my stuttering, spluttering speech...down the crapper.)

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Writing tips 87A - Why adverbs suck.*
*Illustrated using the timeless device utilized by Animaniacs. Please view the following good idea/bad idea example in stick-figure vision

As my infinitely intelligent teacher said last night, the reason your adverbs suck is one of the following:

a) you use an adverb when you could be using more specific language

Bad idea: Johnny ran briskly.

Good idea: Johnny, the space cowboy, galloped along the uneven, ketchup-colored, terrain; peeking over his shoulder, he noticed the hoard of rabid space cows closing the distance.

b) you use an adverb to re-emphasize a point that was previously emphasized

Bad idea: Amy lightly sprinkled some poison stuff on her diary, covering it completely and thoroughly. She desperately wanted to know which person it was who had invaded her privacy so thoroughly and completely. If she knew, then she could quickly and efficiently hide her diary in a place that horrible person, that had so dastardly invaded her stuff, could not get to it, verily.

Good idea: Amy sprinkled anthrax on the front cover of her diary. Let's just see who falls first, she thought. Because, it was not a question of if, it was a question of when...

******************************************

Okay, I have more, but my mound of paperwork is teetering precariously.

And the hare turns back into a turtle...

Well, despite my best inentions, I got less than 500 words yesterday. That puts me just shy of what I am supposed to be doing. This whole writing insane amounts is really hard when you are not sure what to be doing with your story. I am going to be putting up a new goal that is really optimistic and hard, but will only get me slightly higher than the minimum, 12,000 words by midnight Nov. 7th. This is hard for two reasons, one: I have a three hour class tonight and they will notice in a novel writing class if you are in fact novel writing and not participating; and two: I need sleep. I found out last week that I get really cranky when sleep dreprived. Now, I just need to figure a way to incorporate napping and writing without spouting out gibberish. Ideas are welcome, there's a box on the door if you don't feel comfortable speaking to me directly.

Word Count: 6,553

Words to Goal: 5,447

Words to end: 43,447

Her first write-in! Awww.

I went to my first write in which was brilliant because it uses the double team of shame and peer pressure to urge you to write more.

I stayed an extra hour and a half to get over 6,000 words.

Word Count: 6,142

Words to Goal: 3, 858

Words to end: 43,858

NaNo Word Count

Too tired for anything else right now.

Word Count: 3,846

Words to Goal: 6,154

Words to end: 46,154

Ugly Betty Warning!

For those who have always wondered if something that is mostly silicone and bleach could be classified as a sentient life form, wait no longer! Guess whose guest starring as Wile's bridesmaid... Victoria Beckham!

Wonder who got hornswaggled into thinking that was a good idea?

I'm intrigued though, they have gotten so much out of the wooden Rebecca Romijn and TV movie staple Vanessa Williams, maybe they'll get a good bit out of her. Fingers crossed for no recurring roles though. Her mystic tan haunts my dreams. (I'm assuming it's mystic tan, although she could just marinate herself in Fanta overnight for the same effect.)

I'm rooting for her though, I have always been a fan of anthropomorphizing.

This can't be! Can it?

Oh you lucky, lucky people. A second Ugly Betty Recap in nearly so many days!

Whoever thought that setting a sitcom to the score of Wicked would work out so darn well? Not only do we get to see Freddie Rodriguez harassing Betty to the Valley Girl lilt of Popular, we get to seethe with jealousy that Taye Diggs wife still looks gorgeous under sage colored, matte makeup. So, as a quick recap, because my friday is uncharacteristically stuffed with working to be done, I am just going to storm through. Mark totally disses his new boyfriend because he is just not mode-tastic, more closely resembling Seth Rogan and the Wookie population than homoerotic greek sculptures. He confesses to Amanda that he wuvs his fuzzy boytoy and doesn't want to end up sad and lonely like Wille who is unfortunately weeing within earshot. Did I mention Wile has to gain six pounds in a week? Nothing funnier than watching models eat under duress. Betty and Henry try to lie their way to forbidden love, but are so awkward and artless that their affair is a miserable flop. Only when Hilda reminds Betty that it could be worse, Henry could be pushing up daisies like Santos, do she finally do the reverse walk of shame to get her freak on to the strains of defying gravity. Oh yeah, and Daniel gets dumped by a cougar for having a brain. Didn't see that one coming.

Hello NaNoWriMo!

You thought I wasn't going to answer the door because I was cowering from all those trick or treaters last night. But I did. And hell ya, after freezing a bit, I was able to get down 2,121 words of rambling in a brand new character. And shout out to P-Town cuz that's where I am writing about.

I'll set up an end of the week goal (sunday y'all) of ten thousand words because it is always a good idea to get a leg up on it for the week two slump.

Word Count: 2,121

Words to Goal: 7,879

Words to end: 47,879