I think I've got one I'm happy with.

Grounded.

Because everybody's grounded -- "Look, if you can't play nice with religion, you can't have it anymore!" -- and my main character is grounded -- because, really, writing a new religious text is a little all-encompassing (among other things).

There, done, now I don't have to think about it anymore and go do research and write story notes and stuff.

I am having a total retro geek moment right now.

So the cafe owner's family is in town, and she's British, so basically what you have is my favorite place in town filled with British accents and me having a dorky "If I close my eyes I can pretend I'm in Britain!" moment.

Yes, I know.

But the best part is that her dad just whipped out one of these to show off:



Good Lord, her dad is as geeky as mine is. *snickers*

Writer's Block: I Love My Body Because…

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Well, let's see. I love my eyes. I think I have great, gorgeous dynamic blue-green eyes, and I love that they pick up the colors around me really well and look like they're changing shades.

And I love my forearms. Right now they're nicely sunbrowned and I even like the scars I have on them (cat scratches, a bigger burn scar from a hot cookie sheet).

I adore my breasts. I think I've got fantastic breasts, thank you very much. They're not huge and they're not totally teeny -- they pretty much fit the handful rule, or so I've been told -- and I've got a pair of bras that make them look amazing.

I love my body in general, I do, even though right now I'm starting to grow out of my size ten jeans. The only reason that bothers me isn't because I'd fit into a bigger size, but because I can't afford to buy new clothes. I'd love to go shopping for clothes that fit in a bigger size, just because I think cramming yourself into a size you're too big for just makes you look bigger and is so unflattering.

For all that I say I'd love to have a six-pack, I kinda love my tummy when I've got a little tummy pouch. It's soft and squishy! *pokes it* :)

Huh.

I wonder if I could be eligible for dual citizenship.

Not that I could actually DO anything with it, God knows, since I'm broke and as much as I'd love to go to Germany or pretty much anywhere in Europe I can barely afford to leave my house, much less the country.

But, yeah, my great-grandmother was born in Germany. Come to think of it, I think my other great-grandmother on the other side of my family may have been born in Poland, too. I'm a lot more sure of my grandpa Al's mother, though. He researched his family going back something like two hundred years and it's a metric fuckton of German farmers. (I'd be tempted to check and see if I could get away with it through Italian law, but I'm pretty sure the Italian bits immigrated before the Polish bits and definitely before the German bits and besides, I'm Italian through adoption, not blood.)

It'd be something neat to have, at least, if nothing else.