re-doing yesterday today

so i do this suuuuuper annoying thing where i sometimes force myself to repeat days. this has to do with a. my indecisiveness and b. my cheapness.

yesterday is the perfect example.

my lil sis and her hubby are coming for a visit, so i trekked to Trader Joes to buy fun snacks. whilst in Brooklyn Heights, possibly the most beautiful neighborhood on earth:

 i treated myself to lunch:

and was also going to buy a new dress.

*pause for backstory*

i don't shop, because remember previously mentioned b? i'm cheap. also, more importantly, i've never caught the "things" bug. i don't need 'em. my home's not filled with homey knick-nacky things. i'm perfectly content to wear my clothes until they exhibit holes. in fact, i like holes. they make things look cooler. but since i'm about ready to set my entire wardrobe on fire because i wore it all last summer too, i decided that yesterday, i would look for a new dress.

*current story resumes*

and i found one. it wasn't terrific. it wasn't cheap, though it wasn't terribly expensive either. it was just a dress that i could envision myself wearing for the rest of summer. everyday. which would ultimately make the cost of it about 30 cents per day. and i have a few things coming up that make such an outfit a bonus.

unnecessary blog story short? i put the dress back. have been thinking about it all night. and now need to recreate yesterday, in order to go back and purchase said dress so that i may stop kicking myself over it.

this wouldn't be a big deal. if i didn't do this ALL THE TIME. seriously, there should be a support group for this. actually, i think there is. it's called psychotherapy.

the clincher? yesterday involved a train and a bus ride. a delicious lunch. a feeling of bliss. today involves a hot bike ride and none of that other fun stuff. because your not supposed to relive days. you're supposed to do them once and then do something else the next day. like go to the pool.

lesson learned, Corrie?

nah, i'll probably do something identical next week. but i'm working on it.

now on a completely other note which should have been the whole point of this blog post. i've picked a winner for the giveaway of Daughter of Smoke and Bone. did i use a computer program that makes sure the result is completely random? hells no! i used the old school, throw names in a hat method that still makes pretty random results. or kinda random results, because, complete disclosure, i picked Lauren's name again and i made a noise that sounded like GARHH ('cause even though i <3 Lauren, you can't win twice in a row. you just can't) and picked another name and that winner is...

can you read that? no, me neither. but the winner is MARIE!! yay! congratulations! i'll get in touch with you this weekend to get your mailing address. i'd do it now, but i need to go do some dress shopping before work :)

the book giveaway continues!

oh dear.

only one person commenting? this was supposed to be my fun event that would allow me to not blog heavily this week so i could finish up my WIP.

did everyone else get Daughter of Smoke and Bone from BEA as well? all it takes is one "i want it" comment to get your name thrown in the hat. so far Katy, it's yours! we'll see what the rest of the week brings. (comment in the post below this one to enter).

and now back to my WIP :)

givin' it away

happy monday everyone!

as i promised, when i won that thing i won, it's time for my second ever book giveaway!

this time, it's Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke and Bone.

if you check out Laini's blog, you can see the crazy pre-pub tour that her publisher sent her on (yes please! i'll take one of those). it seems people are expecting big things from. it comes out in september. but you, you friends, can read it next week.

this one's easy. all you have to do is leave a comment under the post and i'll enter you to win the book. the contest ends Friday. the Gods of chance and the grey hat of picking a name also smile happily on those who decide to follow the blog.

good luck!

a step

on Monday i received an email telling me that Google was taking the ads off my blogs. apparently, there had been too much unlawful clicking.

what can i say? people who love me in Buffalo are really interested in online degrees.

the day i received the email i was bummed. i'd dropped a shift at work so i could write more and this ad money would have been a nice, breath-easier supplement. but as i told a co-worker that night, i wasn't all that surprised.

i never buy lotto tickets. my birthday scratch-offs are always duds. i can never play along with the question "what would you do if you won a million dollars?" because i've always been certain i'd never secure my future through luck. (and apparently not through unlawful clicks either). i've always known the only way i'd get anywhere is through lots of hard work.

or at least hopefully i'd get somewhere. because so far, i was still just here.

later that same evening, something exciting happened. after work, i had a voicemail! (seriously, nothing like working eight hours to glance at your phone and see that nobody thought of you the whole time.) even better than that, the voicemail was from Chelsea at SCBWI. she had some good news.

guess who won the SCBWI 2011 WIP Grant for Contemporary YA Fiction sponsored by Amazon?

MEEEEEEE! i did. this un-photogenic but genuinely happy girl:

does this mean my book is certain to be published? no. does this mean my future is secure? heck no. but it does mean that for the very first time in my writing life, hard work has paid off. and that feels better than a lotto win (okay, lets say better than a small lotto win).

it feels indescribably, take a deep breath, laughing for no reason on the street, smiling like a lunatic at strangers, i've taken a tiny step towards somewhere, GREAT!

so thank you SCBWI. thank you Amazon. thank you unlawful clicker in Buffalo who's been lighting all those candles for months hoping that something nice like this would happen -- ie thank you mama. thank you my amazing crit partner for the fierce thoughtful reads. thank you my sisters for squealing with me. thank you my new awesome writer friend who's gotten me more twitter followers than i've gotten myself. thank you cafe bustello for all the jittery morning fuel you've provided. thank you agent who's been telling me i had a future this whole time. and thank you all my fabulous blog readers and commenters.

hopefully see you all on the publication side.

oh and well, i'll also see you Monday for my regular blog post. and for months and months and months before anything happens with The Secret Keepers.

but until then, since i'm a big believer in giving something back when you get something, come see me on Monday for a book giveaway! a good one. can you say Laini Taylor?

On Foot Diaries

yesterday was a good day. it was a happy news day. a new crit partner day. an everything is bright and sunny kind of day.

and it was spanish class day. going in, i felt like i could chatter on for hours, but then remembered we were watching a movie. for the entire class.

now there's only like 8 or 10 of these classes anyway, so i have to admit, one class spent entirely on a movie seems a little like a cop out. not to mention, we watched Motorcyle Diaries.

yeah, yeah, yeah, you can't have too much Gael Garcia Bernal, but me and 89% of the class had already scene this film. not to mention, they speak with Argentinian accents, which sounds a little like someone whispering spanish. you think it's related to the language you're used to, but your just not quite sure, because you can only make out one in a hundred words.

so basically, yesterday in my spanish class i read me some english subtitles.

but i was in such a good mood, it didn't matter. plus by the end of the class, Che's trip had taken him to Peru, where the accents are closer to what i'm used to and i was shocked to find, that suddenly i didn't need the subtitles at all.

Motorcyle Diaries is a pretty okay movie. i didn't love it the first time i saw it and i liked it marginally better the second. BUT when i left class -- after watching all that travelling -- i definitely didn't feel like going home.

is this happening to you? all your friends are posting status updates that say things like: Paris here i come! or: I'm off to explore ALL of Southern Europe! if you're anything like me, you've hidden a few feeds this summer. but suffice to say, when i left class and saw all the international tourists exploring my city i decided to join them.

care to join me?

one of the things i love about New York are the hidden gems that only come out at night. i'm sure this is a nice spot to eat lunch, but at night this courtyard with tables and chairs turns magical.

since my class is in the financial district it was only a few blocks to the 9/11 site. i'd heard they'd made good progress on the new buildings, but still, i was amazed.

after that i really had no destination, but felt like walking a long more. which is when i saw the below sign.

ever since i've moved here, i've wanted to cross the Brooklyn bridge on foot, but never have. so when i saw the signs pointing in that direction, i knew it was just the thing for my wanderlust.
i thought it might be creepy, walking the Brooklyn bridge alone at night (says the girl who camped out at Coney Island). but i immediately hit a wall of tourists that flowed around me for just about the whole time. below is not the best picture of it.

honestly, if it was that crowded at 10 on a Tuesday, i don't know how people walk across the Brooklyn bridge during the day. no, seriously, how is it physically possible?

as with most tourist attractions -- excepting the grand canyon, i'm sorry, i just never really liked it there -- it's easy to understand why so many people go once you get to the heart of it.

think what you like about the city, it puts on a good show at night.

i smiled and giggled to myself the whole time i walked the bridge.

i was on an adventure (minus Gael Garcia, boo) in my own backyard! which yes, granted, is NYC.

soon enough, it was back to Brooklyn. where, word of advice, take the first exit off the bridge that you come to. otherwise you walk forever, end up in the heart of downtown, get lost and then find your way home.

sighs with contentment. yesterday was great.

today, meanwhile, i was woken up at 8:15 by a text message. (bedtime for me is 2 or 2:30). perhaps in retribution, a half hour later, i accidentally emptied my water bottle all over my cellphone. and believe you me (isn't it weird that the prime minister of Britain said that during his big conciliatory moment. doesn't 'believe you me' seem so un-prime ministry?) sorry, anyway, and believe you me, cellphones don't like water dumped all over them. in fact, it renders them useless.

unless you can think of something to do with a constantly vibrating, otherwise unfunctioning, small device.

erm, shush, ladies.
going somewhere great this summer? pfft. good for you. not? then i highly recommend taking a day to be a tourist in your own town. to make it even more fun, do your adventure at night! unlike those travelling through all the exotic ports of the world this summer, the sense of freedom, laughter, and fresh appreciation for where you call home when you explore your home, don't cost a thing.

michael and me

i waited on michael stipe last night. you know, REM.

i usually don't mention anything like this on the blog. everyone should be allowed their privacy. plus once you wait on someone who's become well known, you realize how unexciting it is. they ordered food like everyone else?! no way! they were polite? they weren't? big deal. you deal with all versions of that every evening.

mostly you're left with the feeling that the most memorable part of so and so's day wasn't that you waited on them, so it's a little sad that the reverse is true.

but since mr. stipe was featured on apartment therapy where he showed the inside of his house, what's a little name dropping here? besides, the reason i mention him, isn't to mention him, it's because his visit left me thinking about fame, wealth, luck of the draw, and circumstances.

i think about those things anyway when i'm stuck. i mean, this was the line i waited in to see Harry Potter.

this was ticketed people, mind you, arriving early for a good seat. (i'm happy to say i was far ahead in the line, haHa!) so as i'm amidst this giant line, i can't help thinking: man, JK hit it out of the park. and when i go home, i'll still be struggling with my dramatic such and such scene at the end of my novel. which might or might not be the one that gets out there.

yesterday, i couldn't help thinking about all the other food michael stipe has eaten in his life. the delicious, the foreign, the french, the sublime, the street food. and i felt a little jealous, because i want to eat that food, but more than that, i want to have a reason to be in those other places eating that food.

yes. it does all come down to food for me.

you can't have thoughts like this living in NYC or you'll go nuts. last night i should have joined in the off-key singing of Losing My Religion with the other servers and left it at that.

but thanks to such thoughts, this week i'm forcing myself to apply for fellowships. even though the effort it takes to apply for one (where your chances of rejection are 99%) is about equal to the time it takes to write a book, because i don't think you need to be michael stipe to lead an interesting life. you need to be curious. you need to pry into the world. you need to live like you are michael stipe.

but maybe a little neater.

geeking out

it's here! the final Harry Potter film is out.

a week ago i waxed poetic about Harry Potter coming to an end. how there would never be a new film to get all excited about. i mourned traditions ending. i expressed fears that i'd never feel that anticipation about a film series again. then i clicked on the news and realized it was the day that the United States space shuttle program was ending. um, oops.

to my knowledge, the auto industry is not closing up shop, nor is the National Endowments for the Arts calling it quits today, so i don't have to question my blogging and life's values and priorities. i can just talk Harry Potter.

now where was i? some people i know have already seen the film.

in Buffalo, my little sister went with her husband, Dan. lil' sis dressed up as Hermoine Granger.

Dan dressed up as Dan.

in Hoboken, New Jersey, my crit partner wore her Ravenclaw gear and did the whole back to back thing:

look how their shirts match the color of the wand glow behind them. coincidence? or carefully plotted move that shows their true natures and alliances?

yeah, coincidence.

me? i'm going in just 3 hours with my sister. since i don't wear costumes on Halloween, the extent of my dressing up might be to draw an owl on my hand. (notice the use of the word 'might'?)

at work last night, i was told about a movie theatre that exists in the Financial District that no one ever goes to, because no one knows it exists. my sis and i aren't going to that theatre. we're going to the huge one in Union Square.

"people talk to the screen at that one," said the informant who knows about the quiet movie theatre.

"exactly!" i said.

most times i like my movie watching to be quiet. who doesn't love the escapism that comes with getting entirely absorbed in the big screen? normally if people rustle their popcorn bag too loudly behind me i get annoyed. but for big blockbuster releases? there's nothing better than having hundreds of other people gasping and laughing along with you.

i saw the Heath Ledger Batman movie in a Times Square theatre. every time someone yelled at the Joker, the whole theatre cheered. it was awesome. seeing a film with a big boisterous crowd transforms the experience of movie watching -- which we've all done plenty of -- into a cultural event. and considering that i watch almost all my movies off Netflix now, engaging in a little shared screen talking feels good for my soul.

haven't seen any of the Harry Potter films? don't remember the last one?

don't let that stop you! here's a video that crunches the last 7 films into a six minute catch-up:

really not interested in Harry Potter? haven't seen any and ain't gonna start now? here's something to bring a little joy and magic into your day, too. because while there's nothing i want to watch more than that Harry Potter film today, dancing dog videos come pretty close.

school'd o escuela'd

i had my first spanish class yesterday.

it. was. AMAZING.

school as an adult rocks! you're not nervous or afraid to look foolish. the class is only once a week. and if you're a bit of a cut up, you can crack jokes and the teacher laughs with - not yells at - you.

it doesn't hurt that my class is in the financial district - a part of NYC that i rarely have a purpose to be in because, well, i'm a writer. money's not really our thing. so i felt important and learned simply stepping out of the subway.

the financial bull is right outside my building.

i immediately felt less learned when i saw all the tourists taking pictures of themselves holding the bull by the, um, lets say, not horns - think opposite end of the animal and rhymes with balls.

but then i took this picture, which i guess makes me not much better than the tourists.

ha ha... see how it looks like the bull's poo...

erhm sorry. school.

i expected the class to be in some crummy, mid-town looking building, but instead it was held here:

it's as pretty on the inside as it is on the out. on my elevator ride up, a woman complimented me on my hat (yay lost and found) and then told me you can tell we're from new york because we wear black in the summer. i was wearing a colorful sundress and white blouse (o-kay-yay).

anyhoo my classmates are friendly and at roughly the same level of spanish comprehension as me.

the teacher is phenomal and is also an artist who's originally from argentina. she conducts the entire class in spanish. sure, i nodded my way through some of it, not getting a word, but shockingly, i understood a lot more.

maybe that's what happens when you take all the pinches out of spanish. (i just wrote a really bad mexican curse word, but since it's in another language and looks like our english word "pinches," it doesn't count).

the class is three hours and it flew by. i happily babbled on in espanol on a multitude of topics like facebook and why Juan Garcia was applying for that photographer's position. the teacher only once commented, "corrie, i have no idea what you're trying to say." which for me is a score! since the boys say that to me at least five times a night at work.

when i left, i felt like the world had shrunk by 80 percent and i could easily conquer whatever part i wanted. i practically skipped home. well first i had a really heavy dinner with my crit partner (who's doing a book giveaway on her blog), so i ended up walking home kinda hunched over. but prior to that, i hadn't felt so free, vibrant, and capable of anything for quite some time.

i've decided that after high school it should be mandatory for everyone to wait tables. and i do mean everyone. there'd be wayyy less terrible customers out there if everyone had tried on those shoes. whilst waiting tables, you get your college like boozing on with shift drinks and drinks after work. not when you have to wake up for exams and 9 am classes. then when you're burnt out serving people, plus trying to recover from being a lush, you're allowed to enroll in an institution of higher ed.

honestly, Mr. Obama, this is a terrific idea.

but until that legislation passes, i think i've found my new calling. continuing ed floozy. 'cause from here on out. i'm going to take EVERYTHING.

re-educating self

i'm going back to school.

that's right. manana, mi clase de espanol empezar!
(anyone know the key command to make that little n-yay over the 'n'. i have a feeling i'll be needing it.)

i haven't been in school, well, since i was in school. nor have i wanted to go back until now. for me, school was never about learning. it was about getting good grades. which i did very well. i walked away from all my schooling with a stellar transcript and a head full of rapidly fading, memorized solely for exams, information.

(nice, huh? i can feel my mom cringing as she reads this. so glad i saved for your education, darling.)

one day shortly after graduation i knew i had to be a writer. ever since i've worked random jobs that allowed for lots of writing time. jobs, none of which, asked to see those transcipts. i don't think about this much, but i do kick myself a little now.

i wish i could nudge my younger self and say, take the hard classes. the ones with great professors that make you think, and rarely award anything higher than a 'C.'

take a language. nevermind, that the classes are four days a week and ultra hard to get A's in. language is freedom. plus some day you'll meet a cute boy who you'd love to understand more than 50% of the time. oops, sorry, i mean. language is freedom. period.

triple major! studio art, english and marine biology because i could be writing novels and swimming with dolphins right now.

jointly, i wish i had said: study something useful. sorry, english and studio art, you were fabulous, but man, why didn't i consider environmental/agricultural/marine sciences? i still probably would have been a writer, but i'd also have had a day job to grow in, be intrigued by (do jobs like that exist?), and, shock of shocks, even get benefits in.

ooh one more. i wish i had said, study abroad. never again will you have the opportunity to travel with such mindless ease.

now i'm here. on the cusp of truly, mediocrely understanding and speaking spanish. i'm going back to school and i'm going to be the annoying person in the class who can't keep their mouth shut. who questions everything. who is actually enjoying the whole learning enrichment thing.

basically, i'm going to be exactly the person i hated in undergrad. y no puedo esperar!

let the count down begin

one week and it all ends.

no, this isn't another end of the world hoax. i'm talking about Harry Potter. naturally.

now, i'm not the biggest HP freak you'll ever meet. i've read all the books... once. i've seen all the movies... more than once. i'm watched the pottermore trailer...twice. if anyone asks, i say that HP and the Deathly Hallows is a stunning, masterpiece of fiction. and i mean it. but my fandom ends there.

fine, fine, i dream of going to Potterland, but my friends scoffed so hard when i told them, i no longer say it aloud.

HP movies are the only ones i see in theatres anymore. (pathetic, i know. but you see one film in new york and it's the equivalent of having netflix for a year). i wait to see them with my red haired sis -- it's our tradition. and we only get to do this one more time.

the last film. it's pretty momentous. in just one week.

i've heard the last film is short. only a little over 2 hours. i'm imagining it already. sitting in the theatre. the 20 previews end then that music starts up -- you know, that music. even on dvd, it sends shivers up my spine. and then you're off.

do you have your tickets? are you dressing up? will you be seeing the midnight show. my little sister is doing all of the above. so a week from now (plus 24 hours) -- look for pictures here. in fact, take pictures of yourself, send them to me (in a non-spammy way) and i'll post them here too.

it's almost here everyone! and then it's over. forever.

gee. now i'm not sure how i feel about this. is this gonna be one of those wedding blues kind of things? has anyone made a HP support group? is it too late to turn back time? can't we go back to the day of the first book being published?

no? then i guess i'll enjoy savoring the suspense one last time and urge all you other writer's out there, to put on those creativity caps. we need something else to get geeky over.

gone fishin'

neighborhood fireworks

Happy Fourth of July everyone!

danger island? i think not.

it's 6:40 a.m. and i just got in from a little walk on the wild side. okay, not really. well, actually, yes really. sorry. here's what i did.

i stayed on the beach all night at coney island!

the goal was to see the sunrise. a friend convinced me to do it and as soon as i agreed, i knew it was a bad idea. i mean, coney island is sketchy during the day. but to be there at 3 a.m.? was the equivalent of not only shaking danger's hand but inviting her for cocktails.

let me be the first to tell you coney island at 3 a.m. is less creepy than during the day! there were enough people to make it feel safe. everyone kept their distance and you can't beat the sounds of a surf and a semi-starry sky. it was terrific. and then, when i was beginning to feel i couldn't take lying on chilly sand anymore, this happened:

when the sun poked up we dipped our feet in the warm ocean. (which, my friend said, just showed how cold our feet were). old fogie beach comers came out to walk and swim. the world looked fresh and sparkling. and i reflected anew on all the times i haven't done things because i thought they'd be scary, unsafe, or a bad idea. i wonder what my fear made me miss out on.

at least i can scratch "seeing people have sex on a beach" off my list. because, hey, it's coney island. and as during the daytime, at dawn too, beach blankets don't begin to cover the sketchy that exists there.