Meg's Diary

No Wagering

I’ve just discovered something horrible: People—allegedly “friends” of mine—have been placing bets to see how long I’ll last in the barnhouse in Indiana to which I’ve re-located while my kitchen in Key West is being renovated.

Apparently the pot is over $400.

I don’t know where they got the idea that I can’t handle rustic.


This was my room at the Ritz in Paris to which I treated myself for a few days at the end of my European tour last March. I always wanted to stay in the same hotel as Princess Diana.

I almost hyperventilated when I saw the bill. But it was totally worth it. Except for the delivery trucks that would pull up in front of my window at 4AM and idle, causing me to have to sleep on the closet floor until they went away around 8AM.

But even the floor at the Ritz is comfortable.

Did I mention there is a pond on my Indiana property and that some kind of frog lives there and that instead of going ribbit-ribbit all nice, like a normal frog, he goes GUNK. GUNK. all night long? And you can hear him THROUGH THE WALLS? With ear plugs? And a pillow over your head?


Check out the sinks at the Ritz in Paris. No frogs. SWANS. SWAN faucets. Water comes out of their mouths. I put swans like this in my new book, JINX, which will be out a the end of this month, but I swear I thought I was making them up. BUT THEY REALLY EXIST. AT THE RITZ. IN PARIS.

And, okay, because I will no longer let Slutty-McSlut-A-Lot outside because every time I do she runs off into the woods, gets lost, and we have to go look for her and return covered in ticks–and eventually, you just know she’s going to get herself so lost, we won’t be able to find her—she is now one angry kitty, who takes her revenge on us by screaming angrily at 4 in the morning until 8AM. And since we live in a barn with no actual walls, there is nowhere you can go to escape the screaming.

Between that and the GUNK. GUNK. I have, in fact, lost so much sleep I’ve actually considered returning to Key West very, very seriously.

But I have no kitchen anymore in Key West because it is being renovated. I have already been through one kitchen renovation in my old house. And I remember what it was like. Do you?

Do I really want to go through that again?

But how can I, or any pet lover, in good conscience let even a very slutty cat suffer the way Slutty is suffering?

In the interest of full disclosure, the woods do fill with coyotes at night (this is just a rumor. I can’t hear them over the frogs), so we HAVE to make sure she’s in by nightfall. But for my own sanity, I also CANNOT have a cat crying all night long in my house.

What would you do? Seriously? Would you stay? Or would you go?

In book related news, word on the street for Dresden Files on Sci-Fi channel is not good. Reader Vanessa informs me they are selling off all the set pieces and costumes. If you haven’t already, visit here to see what you can do to help save this show if it’s not already too late (there is a rumor floating around they could change locations to save money).

Did you see Al Roker call Janet Evanovich “Stephanie” on the Today Show this morning? Nice one, Al.

And have you read Libba Bray’s hilarious character group therapy LiveJournal entry? Tee hee. Wish I had the energy to write something like that!

But I’ve been up since four listening to a cat scream in outrage. Now I have to go take my own garbage to the dump. WHEEE!!!!!

Did I happen to mention that the Ritz in Paris has this dessert?

That’s a chocolate soufflé with pear sorbet and hot chocolate mousse with a chocolate swizzle stick.

Who says I can’t handle rustic????

GUNK.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

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