Whitney Gaskell: May 2008 Archives

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Uh Oh

I’m one week into a new diet and exercise regime meant to transform me from my current Fatty McButterpants state into this:

But I completely forgot about the new book I ordered pre-diet, until it appeared in my mailbox today:

Must. Stay. Strong.

Link | 22 May 2008 at 04:09 PM |

Dog Speak

Sam loves the movie 101 Dalmatians (in its original, animated form).

After a recent viewing, he said wistfully, “I wish Lulu and Zoe could talk, too.”

This is a truly horrific idea. I can just imagine what life would be like if my two needy, greedy little pugs could follow me around and put voice to their feelings:

I’m hungry. I want my breakfast. I want bacon. I want liver treats. I want a second breakfast. She got more to eat than I did. It’s not fair. BACON! I have to tinkle. Take me out. I have to tinkle RIGHT NOW. Pet me. Rub my head. Don’t pet HER. Pet ME. BACON! Hold me. Love me. I want a softer bed. Her bed is softer than mine. It’s not fair. Rub my head. I’m HUNGRY. I WANT BACON!

It makes my head hurt just to think about it.

Link | 22 May 2008 at 08:21 AM |

B-A-D D-O-G-S

Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk, typing away, when I heard an odd rustling sound coming from the living room.

I paused, fingers poised over the keyboard. “What are you two doing in there?” I called out.

I didn’t really expect an answer, as the dogs don’t speak. But neither one of them came trotting into my office, which made me suspicious. When pugs skulk away, it usually means something BAD is going on.

And it was.

My two small dogs had managed to:

(a) Open a closed kitchen cupboard,

(b) Drag a heavy bag of dog food out of the cupboard and into the living room, and

They were now lying under the coffee table with identical bulging stomachs.

“You are BAD DOGS,” I told them sternly.

They looked at me unrepentantly.

“You’re going to regret this later,” I warned them. “You’re both going to have terrible tummy aches.”

And they did . . . at 5 a.m. They proceeded to howl and bark until I dragged my ass out of bed, hooked on their leashes and took them out to empty their bowels, all the while hoping none of the neighbors would up early enough to see me out in my jammies.

Damn dogs.

Link | 16 May 2008 at 09:11 AM |

Release Day, One Day Late

My new YA book, GEEK ABROAD, is now available in a book store near you! It’s written under my pen name, Piper Banks, and continues Miranda’s story where it left off in GEEK HIGH.

Looking for love in all the wrong countries ...

Miranda Bloom's life has never been better. She finally has an almost-quasi-boyfriend, Dex McConnell, the star lacrosse player of Orange Cove High.

But when the holiday break rolls around, she jets off to visit her mother in London, and Dex suddenly seems to lose all interest in her. Then there's Henry, the very cute and very available British guy who complicates matters by making it clear that he's very interested in Miranda.

Things don't get easier for her when classes start back up at Geek High. Between the dreaded Math Team competitions, an annoyingly love-struck best friend, and a stepmother who seems to delight in making Miranda miserable, it doesn't take a genius to see that the semester ahead is going to be tough.

Link | 07 May 2008 at 09:38 AM |

Scenes from a Sunday Car Ride

George and Whitney: [singing together] Say, Candy and Ronnie, have you seen them yet, but they're so spaced out. Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh Bennie and the Jets . . .

Sam: Please don’t sing.

George and Whitney: Oh but they're weird and they're wonderful. Oh Bennie she's really keen . . .

Sam: Stop. Singing.

George and Whitney: [singing louder] She's got ELECtric boots . . . A MOhair suit . . . You know I read it in a magaz-EEEN! Buh-buh-buh Bennie and the Jets!

Sam: STOP! SINGING! STOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGING!!!!!!!

Is it wrong to admit that I love listening to John Tesh’s radio show? That man’s voice is like acoustic valium to me.

Link | 05 May 2008 at 02:57 PM |

Looking for Lillet

I was reading about Lillet on Decorno (because Decor is my porn), and decided that this was a tasty treat I had to try. So I headed to the liquor store, and spent a few minutes rebuffing offers of help from the clerks while I browsed through the apertif section. When I realized I wasn't going to find it on my own, I was forced to ask an employee to find it for me.

"Lillet?" he asked doubtfully.

I worried that I was pronouncing it wrong.

"Yes. Lee-lay," I said carefully.

"I know what it is," he stood. He paused, reconsidering. "I know what the bottle looks like."

He stood next to me, and joined me in staring blankly at the rows of bottles. It occurred to me that he had no idea where it was either.

"Um, do you carry it?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. To be honest, you're the first person who's ever come in here and asked for it. Ever."

I couldn't tell if this was a good thing. It could mean that I am so damn cool, I might single handedly start a Lillet renaissance in my sleepy, little, decidedly unhip town. Or it could mean that I am now that person -- the pretentious, asking-for-impossible-to-find-drinks-just-to-be-a-pain-in- the-ass chick.

I don't care. I am now on a one-woman mission to track down a bottle.

Link | 01 May 2008 at 06:41 AM |