Rose-Owls and Pumpkin Girls

Hey, San Diego-bound lovelies!

This Saturday night at 8:00PM, I'm going to be participating in a panel discussion and book signing at the Borders right by the convention center in the Gaslamp District. Specifically, I'm going to be participating in a panel discussion and book signing with Patrick Rothfuss, Amber Benson, Rob Thurman, Thomas Sniegoski, Jeanne C. Stein, and Kat Richardson.

1. Dude, that's awesome!
2. Holy cats.
3. Come out and boost my numbers!

Seriously, I am, like, hugely outnumbered by awesome panelists of awesome (and our awesome moderator of awesome, Morgan Burns, who bought my love with beercan chicken). This is your chance to hear cool things, get your questions answered, learn about cool authors you may not already know, and oh, right, potentially learn more about that "Rosemary and Rue" thing I keep talking about. There's even a chance that you could score some free stuff...

The Borders is located at 668 6th Avenue, between Market and G, and we're starting at 8:00PM, which means you may want to get there a little early. This is a Babel Clash live event, and you can learn more at http://bordersblog.com/scifi/

I really hope I'll see you there!

10. I will be on a plane for San Diego in a little over twenty-four hours, on my way to the San Diego International Comic Convention. The SDCC is one of my favorite conventions, because it is, for all the chaos, really remarkably relaxing. I go, I smile, I speak, I shop. And shop, and shop, and oh, yes, shop. I love flea markets, and the SDCC dealer's hall is like the world's best combination of "the comic book store" and "the indoor flea market." Only this flea market has an artist's alley. Life is good.

9. As part of my preparation for San Diego, I took my mother for a pedicure last night. (There's logic here, I swear. The logic is largely "I didn't want to walk home after getting my nails done.") Neither of us is much of a pedicure girl, but sometimes it's nice to just let somebody attack your heels with a pumice stone. Besides, I have super-cute shoes for the parties in San Diego—kitten-heeled green Italian leather—and they require having super-cute toenails to go with them.

8. Alice woke me up five minutes before my alarm by kneading the hell out of my hip, and then throwing herself down across me like a fuzzy blue blanket possessed of most imposing puffiness. This was far, far more pleasant than being woken by the actual alarm could possibly have been, and made hauling my carcass out of bed much easier. After the Blue Team decided to let me get up, that is. Between the two of them, I really don't get to do much that my cats don't approve of.

7. Next up in my reread of the collected works of Stephen King: The Stand. This is one of my five favorite books of all time. Just having it in my purse makes me happy. (Not as happy as IT, which is why IT is slated for rereading at the end of August/beginning of September, but surprisingly close.)

6. According to this week's new releases list, the next volume of the collected hardcover Creepy comes out tomorrow. (Ironically, I won't be able to pick it up until next week, since, well, San Diego, but just knowing that it's on the trucks makes me happy.) These books are basically my childhood in handy, easy-to-shelve form, and their very existence enhances the universe incredibly. I am a happy girl.

5. Rosemary and Rue comes out in forty-one days. Forty-one is the thirteenth smallest prime number. (The next is forty-three, with which it comprises a twin prime.) It is also the sum of the first six prime numbers (2 + 3 + 5 + 7 + 11 + 13), and the sum of three primes (11 + 13 + 17). I love forty-one for being prime, and I love Wikipedia for knowing all this crap.

4. I have a hula hoop! And when I get home tonight, I get to use my hula hoop! I get to stand in the front yard and hula like I've never hula'd before. Well, actually, just like I hula'd last night, only maybe a little bit better, because I've had more practice. I can't take my hula hoop to San Diego, so I have to get my hula in now, while I still can.

3. Rebecca has BPAL waiting for me in San Diego. Specifically, Rebecca has a fresh bottle of Bad Luck Woman Blues (basically my signature aromatherapy calm down Seanan, you can't unleash the pandemic perfume) and a bottle of the new Zombie Apocalypse scent. I am a lucky girl.

2. I have season one of Leverage on DVD. Tonight, I will sit on my couch, ink art cards, and watch con men, thieves, and grifters as they do their con man, thief, and grifter things, and my cats will purr, and the DDP will be cold, and the tomato sandwiches will be incredibly drippy and get all over the damn place, probably causing at least one incident with my art supplies, and life will be good.

...and finally...

1. I am healthy, I have a cute haircut, I have orange toenails, I have a book coming out in less than a month and a half, I have wonderful friends, I have beautiful cats, and I'm about to take off for the world's biggest comic book convention. Life doesn't suck.

How's by you?

I don't take many baths. Oh, I take a lot of showers, but let's get real, here: baths take a lot of time, and I don't usually have a lot of time to spend on just sitting around in hot water, waiting to become clean. I strip, I scrub, I dry, I get on with it.

Tonight, for various reasons (most of them having to do with my inability to get an appointment at the place where I get my legs waxed, and aren't you glad you asked?), I needed to take a bath. So I did what I always do when it's time for a bath: I dumped a crapload of pumpkin pie bubble bath into the water, got out my pumpkin pie sugar scrub, found my pumpkin-scented loofah, and prepared to become a pretty pretty Halloween princess of the bathroom. I am a simple soul. I enjoy simple things.

Enter Alice.

Alice is a Maine Coon, which really means that she's a magical cross between a cat, an otter, and the Great Pumpkin. The sound of Mommy splashing around in the big white water bowl was too much for her to resist, and she very quickly came to see what I was doing. And then she started batting at the bubbles. And then she started attacking the spray when I splashed at her.

And then she got into the bathtub.

I probably should have seen that coming, all things considered.

Now, I've had cats join me in the bathtub before. This is normally followed by the cat in question learning to levitate as it realizes that HOLY CRAP THAT'S WATER YOU'RE SITTING IN WATER. Not Alice. Nope. Once waterlogged, Princess Puffy-Pants decided it was just as well if she hang out a bit. Help me with whatever it was I was doing. You know. Be a good cat. Help the human.

Things that do not help me shave my legs: blue Maine Coon cats with coats containing approximately a gallon and a half of bathwater. Just in case you were wondering about that. I do, however, now have a pleasantly pumpkin-scented cat, which goes quite well with her overall autumnal glory. Lilly is still looking at her like she's lost her tiny puffy mind, for which I really can't blame her.

Cats. They're awesome. And insane.