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Meg's Blog

Meg Reviews Smallpox, the Made-for-TV Disaster Movie

Psych! I didn't really watch Smallpox, so I won't be reviewing it here. I STARTED to watch it, but it was all scary and good, and I got freaked out and had to turn on Extreme Home Makeover instead.

Made-for-TV disaster movies are only good when they're bad. Do you know what I mean? If they're good, it's like…what's the point? We have enough real life disasters to worry about. Unless the fictional disaster is so hokey it could never happen (like a hurricane over Lake Michigan), it is no fun to watch.

That's my theory, anyway.

So my rash from the scarlet fever is practically all gone, making me really appreciate antibiotics in a way I never have before. Thanks for all the well wishes, but for those of you who are taking up a collection to get me a piano, I was only kidding. Seriously. Because Beth got a piano in Little Women when SHE had scarlet fever. Or something. I don't know, it's been a long time since I read that book.

But that's all I meant by the piano thing. I really don't want a piano, nor do I have room for one, or time to learn to play one. It will just sit in a corner getting all dusty, like my bass. And I don't want to talk about my bass. If you really want to get me something, you can get me a goat, the way the people on Alyssa Milano's message boards did, and give it to a poor family via the Heifer Project. That would be cool.

But you really don't have to get me a present, even a goat, because a) I am not even sick anymore and b) I already have anything I could ever want, plus lots of things I don't want, or will ever use, such as the aforementioned bass, purchased during a moment of intense PMS.

So on Thursday night I was checking my email when I heard all these rattling noises. It was like 1AM and my husband was downstairs and I got all scared there was a mouse in the wall or something. So I sent Henrietta to investigate, only she wouldn't, she kept trying to hide behind me. And I was like, “What kind of failure as a cat are you, trying to hide from the mouse?”

I fully wasn't going to let Henrietta EAT the mouse, or whatever. I just wanted her to catch it for me, so I could grab it and take it outside and release it. Although I am a voracious meat eater, I do like to think I have compassion for all living things, except ticks.

Although I have been a bit down on mice ever since I read an article on the hanta virus, which mice spread. I used to be all “Leave the mice in peace,” back when I worked in the dorms at New York University, which, like all buildings in which the residents routinely leave pizza boxes under the beds for months at a time, had massive mice infestations everywhere, at least when I was there.

I didn't blame the mice for wanting to eat the leftover pizza. That is their nature.

But I could understand why the residents might find a mouse in their room objectionable, so I tried to get live traps, and then we'd let the mice go in the park. They just ran back into the building, but whatever. At least we tried.

Although I knew things had gotten out of hand on the “let the mice live” front one day in my office at the dorm, when I'd set up this elaborate live trap of my own design, consisting of a tipped over trash can and a Hershey's Kiss, because there was this one mouse that kept creeping up and looking at me, and I wanted to catch it and take it out to the park.

So I was waiting for him to crawl into the trash can, and in walked this mother and her child, a potential NYU student, to ask questions about the dorm.

So we were chatting, and then all of a sudden I saw the mother's face go white, and I knew the mouse had crawled into the trash can. So I real quick turned around and banged it over, trapping the mouse inside, where it was going, “Eeep! Eeep!”

And I was so excited, I turned to the lady and was like, “Thanks! We got him!”

And she grabbed her kid and booked out of there so fast, they looked like a blur. I'm sure that kid is going to SUNY now. His mom was probably all, “No way are you going to that crazy school with the crazy lady who traps the mice in the trash cans!”

Where was I? Oh, yeah.

But then I read about the hanta virus and now I'm all, “KEEP MICE FAR FROM ME” Because you can seriously die from that, and God knows I catch every disease that even remotely comes near me, and I do not need to catch the hanta virus.

And okay, mostly only mice in the Southwest carry it, but you never know. The point is, you do NOT want mice in your house. It's okay to be nice to mice, but keep them at arm's length, and do not breathe around them.

So I figured I would send Henrietta to do the initial dirty work when I thought there was a mouse in my own room, because cats don't get the hanta virus, just people do.

But Henrietta wouldn't even go INVESTIGATE the mouse. So I had to go investigate the situation myself, and I soon learned that there WASN'T a mouse in the wall, that the crackling noises were coming from the AC adapter box thing to my PowerBook, which was jumping around as if it were on FIRE inside.

So I unplugged it and had no access to my email all weekend because I couldn't plug my computer in and the battery died after like four hours.

As a consequence, when I got my new cord from the Apple Store on Monday, I had 267 unread emails—and that does not include what was in my junk mailbox. I haven't gotten around to reading them all yet, because I also have all this work to do because work got backed up, too, due to having no computer.

But I got one email from a girl who was very offended by my remarks in my last blog concerning the supermodel who was nearly killed in the tsunami. She said the tragedy is nothing to joke about.

And I just want her to know that I didn't mean to offend anyone, and I WASN'T making a joke about the tsunamis. I was merely remarking on a certain news station's obsession with ONE angle of the story—the supermodel angle—which I felt was sort of twisted, in light of how many other victims there are BESIDES the supermodel.

Anyway, apologies to that reader.

In other news, I leave on Friday for my “Every Boy's Got One” book tour. “Every Boy's Got One” comes out in US stores today. I hope everyone went and got one (ha ha). Hopefully you will be able to come one of my book signings, which are listed here. Also, check out this cute article in today's Courier Journal. (can you tell I finally figured out how to work the link thingie on my blog? It's SWEET).

Anyway, as I've said before, I really don't get a say in where I am sent on book tour—I have to go where I'm invited by booksellers. So if I am not going to your town, please do not send angry emails to me. I honestly had nothing to do with it. A better strategy would be to let your local bookseller know that if he/she sponsored a Meg Cabot event, you and your friends would actually go to it. Because booksellers, though they are very, very smart, are not psychic, and they have no way of knowing they SHOULD invite an author to their town if they don't know there are people in that town who read that author's books. So speak up!

Anyway, I will be posting the continuation of the advice blog soon. In the meantime, I just wanted to say thanks for all the get well wishes (my coccyx bone feels much better, as well) and thanks especially to all the people who wrote to say how much they are enjoying TWILIGHT, Mediator 6. I'm glad you like it! But at th
is time, yes, it really does look like that will be the last book in the series, something I think anyone who has read it will understand.

Oh, also, regarding the last line in TWILIGHT (SPOILER ALERT for those of you who haven't read it yet–start reading again after the SPOILER ALERT ENDS if you don't want to know):
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SPOILER: Several of you wrote to say you didn't get why a certain ghost finally moved on at the end, and I said in a previous blog entry to read the ending again, that the ending literally means what it says. Some people took that to mean that a certain character's heart LITERALLY bursts, and now believe the character I am referring to is dead.

SHE IS NOT DEAD. What I meant was that she is HAPPY now, and THAT is why the ghost in question was able to move on. Okay? Most readers seem to have gotten this. There were just a few readers who needed clarification. I hope we have gotten that all straightened out now.
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SPOILER ALERT ENDS

Phew, I'm tired after all that explaining. I have to go do my last set of pre-turning-it-in edits on PD7, so that's it for now.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

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