Diary of a Netaholic

I lost my home internet last week. Not just for a day last week but for almost ALL of last week.

Yes, things were that bad.

 Day 1 without Internet:

Changing over internet service providers, that’s all. No big deal. Service will be up and running again in a day

Day 2 without internet:

So, still no connection. Does this company know that a day is only 24hrs long? Are they counting the days in tortoise hours, where everything moves really, really slow? Oh well, I do have my smart phone so it’s not THAT much of an emergency. I can read tweets and check yahoo.

Day 3 without internet:

I’m getting a headache from constantly staring at the teeny-tiny screen on my phone. Beginning to realise how important checking twitter feeds and facebook posts and emails has become to me. Start to wonder if I should be concerned about this dependence. Vow to google question: “ how do you know when you’re addicted to the Internet?”—just as soon as I have access to the web again (irony? What irony?)

Day 4 without internet:

Dear Internet Service Provider Man,

I received your email inquiring as to whether I was satisfied with my recent service experience. I am responding to let you know that, sure, I’m happy. As happy as Katie Holmes during a Tom Cruise movie marathon, and by that I mean I’m not FUCKING HAPPY. You and me have what you might call ‘irreconcilable differences’. To clarify: You think you have hooked up my internet, but I am of the opinion that you have, er, not. So my recent service experience has entailed receiving no service at all. It has sucked dead dingoes dongers. I have no internet at my house. I have been staring at a 4 inch screen all week and everything else in the world is starting to look really, really big by comparison. I watched a movie on my TV last night and I thought I was at the fucking cinema. Which would be great, except I’m now dieting so that means no popcorn for me. Oh joy. No fucking popcorn and no fucking internet.

So in summary, get my fucking internet up and running ASAP. Or at least send me some fucking popcorn.

Signed,

Sami ‘Do you realise I’m waiting on news from an editor?’ Lee

Day 5 without internet:

Who’s children are those? When did I have children? Oh well, no internet, so I suppose I can play with the children.

Day 6 without internet:

What? A service person is coming around to the house to fix the problem with the internet? Hmm, just when I was getting into the Tinkerbell game and playing I Spy. And here he comes with the questions. ‘What sort of splitter cable do you have?’, ‘What’s your usual bandwidth?’, and ‘What’s your user key and passcode?’. My shoulders are starting to hurt from all the shrugging. My feminist ideals shrink to the size of a pea when I’m forced to declare, ‘My husband usually does all this stuff’. Germaine Greer would be so proud. It was probably apropos that I was wearing fluffy slippers and herding kids like cattle when he came to the door. Ah, the little woman, doesn’t have a clue about this technology business. *head pat*

But what do I care what he thinks of me? My ignorance compelled the man called Brian to fix it all for me, didn’t it? Hubby said I should play dumb more often.

It’s so cute that he thought I was playing.

Cheers,

Sami

(Who’s just glad to be back online)

A Lesson in Oz-isms

This is a joke. Sort of.

Whilst over in the US recently, Lexxie C and I were discussing our use of Australianisms and how important it is to us to keep them in our books whenever we can. For us it’s what makes our characters authentically Australian and gives them a unique voice. Whilst many publishers ask their authors to ‘de-oz’ their books (phrase coined by me just now), we’ve both been pretty lucky because we’ve been able to keep most of ours in. Thought I’d share a few of the more recent ones my lovely editor/s has let through to the keeper (a cricketing term meaning let pass).

• Crack on (said when referring to a person of the opposite sex you’d like to charm out of their pants, i.e. ‘I’m going to crack on to that hot guy who looks like Ryan Gosling if it’s the last thing I ever do!’)
• Having a lend (Pulling someone’s leg… oh that’s Australian too. Trying to pull the wool over someone’s eyes? Using a serious face while telling a tall tale, trying to take someone for a fool, that sort of thing)
• Piss weak prick (US example might be chicken shit. You are a cowardly bastard who can’t get it up)
• Punching on (Having a fist fight)
• Jocks (Mens underwear, specifically brief style. A final line editor recently wondered at the use of the plural. How to explain men don’t wear a jock here? Did she think I was referring to a jock strap? I have no idea. I don’t know where jocks comes from but Australian guys wear either boxers, occasionally boxer briefs, or jocks. Or possibly nothing, but I don’t want to go there)
• Tracky dacks (Actually I didn’t use this but I was tempted. These are sweatpants. The proper name is tracksuit pants, we affectionally call them tracky dacks {dacks=pants}
• Fined up (It has ‘fined up’ when it stops raining, i.e., it is now fine {sunny} as opposed to pissing down {raining really hard}.
• Jumper (This is what we call a sweater. I don’t know why. Because they were initially made of wool and sheep sometimes jump fences, ergo, you’re wearing a jumper? I have a hero and heroine discussing this important issue in a WIP that I’m hoping will find an editor who will let my jumper discussion go through to the keeper, unless she thinks it sucks big hairy dingo balls)

Something to chew on this weekend (something to think about) which is better than a poke in the eye with a burnt stick (self explanatory, yes?)

Sami

OMG There’s a Flower Growing Out of it!

Here are a few pearls of wit from my kids, to be filed under category, you gotta love ‘em”

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The other day Princess and Cherub were wrestling on the couch and this was the conversation I overheard:

Cherub: (presenting buttocks) Smell my butt

Princess: No way!

Cherub: Come on, it’s grown into a flower

I was laughing too much to reprimand her for, I assume, attempting to fart in her sister’s face.

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One night this week we were playing ‘What am I?’ with the girls. Princess was giving clues like; I have lots of wheels and a big body and I drive on the road. Hubby tried to help Cherub out by whispering ‘Truck’. Having misheard his clue she shouted, “Dragon!”. When Princess said no, it was a truck, Cherub rolls her eyes at her dad, as though he were quite dense. “I didn’t think it was dragon!”

_______________________________________

While playing the same game, it was Cherubs turn to give clues. This was how it went:

I have no legs, no arms, no face, no anything at all.

The answer in case you were wondering (we all were), was “I’m a cup”

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Last week Princess and I were in the supermarket, going through the chilled food section. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she commented, “I’m cold. You can tell because I have chicken pops.”

I then had to explain the difference between Chicken Pox and Goosebumps. Why do we name these reactions of the flesh after birds?

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One night when I was putting Cherub to bed, I asked her, “How much do I love you?”. She spread her arms out wide to show I loved her as far as I could stretch my arms and beyond (she’d done this before, you see). On this particular night I asked her in return, “How much do you love me?”

Cherub replied, “Six.”

_______________________________________

Recently Princess was on the phone to her grandparents. Her grandma asked her how she was, to which Princess responded, “I’m perfect of course!”

Nothing like the confidence of a six year old

Have a great weekend,

Sami

 

What Were You Doing?

Tomorrow is the official beginning of schoolies week on the Gold Coast here in Queensland. This is a week (actually three weeks) during which students who’ve now completed high school party like there’s no tomorrow, a teenage romp probably not dissimilar to what readers in the US might know of as Spring Break. This is a festival which always attracts much media attention, most of it negative, but all in all one where kids from several Australian states get together and have a great time celetrating their newfound freedom from the tyranny of high school–before they’re required to enter the workforce or plan for University or college.

If there was such a thing as schoolies week when I left school, I hadn’t heard about it. I lived in a relatively small beachside town, so our celebrations amounted to bonfires on the beach, parties at the cool kids houses (to which I was rarely if ever invited), and the school formal—something much like a prom. Now, I left school in 1988. Yes, that long ago. I thought it would be fun to think back on what was going on back then—the things that made up the soundtrack of my young life.

Fashion: By 1988 we’d moved on from fingerless gloves and glow in the dark GO GO Tshirts. We were somuch cooler. We’d discovered SHOULDERPADS

Song I remember dancing to most often: “I’ve had the time of my life” from the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack

Album that absolutely everyone owned: Kick by INXS (and yes it would have been on record or TAPE)

Band I locked myself in my room with most often: U2

Must watch weekly watch: Miami Vice, Dallas and Cheers

Guiltiest must watch pleasure: Days of Our Lives. I just loved Bo Brady!

Movie everyone saw at the cinema: Cocktail with Tom Cruise, Elizabeth Shue and Bryan Brown

Movie I wish I hadn’t seen in public: Beaches (cried like a baby at the cinema watching it with my best friend)

Movie I loved then but still love now: Die Hard the original

Movie I loved then but am embarrassed now to admit I loved: Twins with Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger

Movie whose title didn’t seem inappropriate at the time but now does: Working Girl

Movie that was the best for ogling: Tequila Sunrise (Mel Gibson AND Kurt Russell, oh yum)

Books I was reading:

A Brief History of Time by Steven Hawking (okay so no I’ve never gotten past the first 3 pages but it was published in 1988)

What I was really reading: Books by Sydney Sheldon, Jackie Collins, Leigh Nichols (who later turned out to be a pseudonym of Dean Koontz), LaVyrle Spencer and many and various category romance novels which I’d discovered only the year before.

So it seems a lot of my memories revolve around movies and books. That much hasn’t changed. So what were you reading/watching/listening to the year you left school?

Sami

Thank Goodness for Feminism

I’ve been rounding up a few nostalgic things of late. Here’s a few that make me glad my foremothers fought for our rights to better Christmas presents

 

 

 

All I can say is if my hubby gets me a hoover for Christmas, I will not be a happy camper (unless I’m on those magic pep pills that make so much more malleable)

Have a great–and peppy–weekend

Sami

Going Retro

But why doctor? I came in about my broken toe.

A little while back I blogged over at my place about the return of Loveswept books, some of which have been rereleased as ebooks. In that post I mentioned my fondness for those books, as well as the Harlequin Temptations I used to devour back in the ’80s and ’90s (Harlequin Temptation changed my reading habits for life). I recently discovered that Harlequin has also established a Treasury line, e book rereleases of some ’90s classics. This has probably been around for ages but I can be completely oblivious at times. Whereas Loveswept has updated their covers for the ebook market, Harlequin hasn’t and I’ve been so enjoying going through the collection.

 

When I was a teenager it was well understood the seventies was a daggy decade. In the nineties we laughed at how big our hair was in 1985. Somewhere along the way, the nineties

Aye, me lusty wench, wanna see the inside of me bedchamber? Arrrrgghh

got daggy too. Still, I’d love to read some of these oldies. Some of the ’90′s romance writers remain my favs today. Shame the cover art hasn’t stood the test of time quite so well.

 

I’m heading off to watch the movie remake of the retro ’80s classic TV show, the A Team. I’m quite certain it will be bad, but Bradley Cooper’s in it, so I may survive the experience.

Have a great weekend,

 

Sami

 

 

This is raunchy stuff

A friend sent me something extremely rude on email. I mean, this was hard core stuff, porn for women, the kind of pictures that make a mere mortal woman go into paroxysms of ecstasy. When I saw this I was like Jamie Lee Curtis in A Fish Called Wanda when John Cleese starts speaking Russian. You know what I’m talking about. These man pics did it for me big time. I figured I had to share them, even if I break all the rules of blog propriety (are there any of those?).

Here goes:

Here’s wishing you some raunch this weekend,

Sami

Just for a Laugh

Someone sent these to me claiming they were sentences typed by real emergency room receptionists in Glasgow. Don’t know if that’s true but they made me laugh so I thought I’d share them.

1. The patient has no previous history of suicides.

2. Patient has left her white blood cells at another hospital.

3. She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was
    very hot in bed last night.

4. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a
    year.

5. The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to
    be depressed.

6. The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.

7. Healthy appearing decrepit 69-year old male, mentally alert, but
     forgetful.

8. Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.

9. She is numb from her toes down.

10. While in ER, she was examined,  x-rated and sent home.

11. Occasional, constant infrequent headaches.

12. Patient was alert and unresponsive.

13. She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life
      until she got a divorce.

14. Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.

15. Skin: somewhat pale, but present.

16. The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.

17. Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities

18. When she fainted, her eyes rolled around the room.

19. The patient was in his usual state of good health until his
      airplane ran out of fuel and crashed.

20. Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady
      pregnant.

21. Patient was seen in consultation by Dr. Smith, who felt we should
     sit on the abdomen and I agree.

22. The patient was to have a bowel resection.  

      However, he took a job as a stock broker instead.

Have a great weekend

Sami

Blast from the Past

On my recent trip to LA for Romantic Times, I was fortunate enough to meet a lovely lady by the name of Rhys Bowen, an author of mystery novels. Jess Dee and I sat down next to her at Club RT (not sure how happy she was to be saddled with two Aussie erotic romance authors, but if she was appalled at all she certainly didn’t show it). Turned out, Rhys was much more familiar to both Jess and I than we could possibly have realised.

You see many years ago, she told us, she used to write teen romances. Jess and I exclaimed that we used to love reading those back in the day, especially the Sweet Dreams books. Well, this lady’s pen name used to be Janet Quin Harkin and we could both remember reading some of her books. I’m pretty sure we squeeled like a couple of Justin Bieber fans. I couldn’t believe I was meeting someone who’d written those little stories I used to love, the ones that paved the way to my later appreciation of the more adult romances. They were mills and boon for teens with little more than sweet kissing and fluttering eyelashes littered througout the narrative. I can’t help feeling a bit sad there doesn’t seem to be anything similar available today… or am I missing something? Anyone know of any modern version of these books?

Last night I went on Amazon and even found some of my old favs. The covers that so attracted the innocent 12 year old that I was (oh yes, I was once innocent, flutters lashes) don’t exactly hold up in the cool stakes .

Pre GPS travel

Sadly, I had a haircut just like it in 1983

Guys don't make passes at girls who wear those glasses

Why does Stephen King's Carrie come to mind?

I remember Rhys saying to me at that meeting that she wrote a book called ‘Ten Boy Summer’. We laughed at how such a title might be interpreted now, but back in the ‘80s? Apparently no innuendos were allowed. You be the judge. Could we get away with any of the following titles in YA today?

It's the binoculars that make it creepy

Did they all look like Matt Dillon?

No words necessary

Ah. Wherever did our innocence go?

Sami

Funny Things My Babies Do

Conversations and events occuring in the Lee household of late:

1. “What are you doing Cherub?”

“I’m not doing  a poo.”

That’s nice, but it leaves so many less palatable options.  Turned out she was licking the glue stick like it was a lollypop.

I tell her put the lid back on that thing, please. She tries and tries, with much grunting and groaning. Then she gets a bright idea. “I need to go in the lounge room.” Sure enough upon a move to the lounge room she’s able to screw on the lid. Must be the air in there, it’s lighter or something, like on the summit of Everest. Who knew?

 2. Princess has taken to correcting the Cherub on her speech lately, now that she’s a schoolie and knows everything. The other day Cherub was saying she wanted ‘sgetti on toast for dinner. Princess very  calmly rolled her eyes and said, “It’s pesgetti, you know.”

 3. There is a spider in the corner of the Cherub’s bedroom—a harmless Daddy Long Legs that is helpfully keeping the insect population down in kid central. Cherub comments on it every time we’re in there together. The other day, as always, I say “Don’t worry about him, he’s not interested in you.” Thoughfully, Cherub replies “No, that’s why he’s not talking to me.”

Is it safe to say he never will?

4. The other day Princess asked if we could go to the park on the way home from school. Feeling disinclined, I refused as is my perogative. Princess responded angrily “Fine then. If you’re not going to take me to the park I might as well stay home and eat all day.”

Are they really the only two options?

5. We were recently given a lovely old piano which we’ve encouraged the kidlets to try out. Yesterday Cherub was playing it, very carefully removing the sheet music from inside the piano chair and spreading it out where it’s supposed to go. She points to a line and says ‘I’m going to play that one’. Okay. She bashes on the keys haphazardly for a while, then collects her sheet music and hops off the chair. Refering to the sheet music she said ‘I need to get another one, this one doesn’t work.’

Sometimes I think my girls need whole books written about them.

Sami