Last night was hella fun. My friend that hosts writing group (Another privilege of having kids - we used to switch off but now we always go to her house, which is way the fuck out in suburbia, because she has two kids. And I understand that it's easier for everyone and probably sometimes a burden to have to host and all that. But still.) hosted the first meeting of our new Fantasy L*terature League.
That's right. We are that nerdy. While her husband and his friends gathered in the dining room (with mini wieners and bagel dip) to draft their football players, we sat in the living room (with cucumber sandwiches and olives) and drafted authors.
People, I have the best team. I am going to KICK ASS. And TAKE NAMES.
I have the Bard. I have Oscar Wilde. I have Judy Bloom and Dr. Seuss. I have Kerouac and Langston Hughes and Amy Sedaris. Don't FUCK with me bitches.
Every week we will draw a theme from the hat and have the week to come up with our best quotations/passages on the theme from our authors. Then we will go head to head to determine who has the best team of authors. We're still working out some of the rules.
We had a few people M had talked into coming who started out thinking we were crazy. We had to convince them to go along with the draft, but you know what? By the end of the evening we had converted them into believers. They BELIEVE in the Fantasy L*terature League.
If you would like to root for me, my team is the Ipanema Iron*es.
In other news, the Wee Little Gnome is going to go to the next person who needs some luck and love. The first person to ask for his sweet gnomey ass will be receiving him in the mail. The only catch is that after you tell him what you are asking for, you must then send him on to the next person needing of a tiny bit'o'luck.
I will catch up on my blog reading later and send my love - now I am going to work on my poor neglected house.