Happy Holidays!

Here's hoping that your in-laws are on their best behavior and that if they're not, they're not at your house, you get no fruitcakes, the turkey doesn't burn, and you get everything you want (and receipts for return for everything you didn't).

Happy Holidays/Christmas/New Year/Haunaka/Festivus/Kwanza and Just Plain Happy to You and Yours.

Have a Holly, Jolly Slot Machine

So, sadly, I didn't hit it big in Vegas this past weekend. As usual, I lost all my gambling money the first night and then spent the rest of the trip trying to make it back. Only Vegas can make you feel like losing $100 instead of $500 is a victory. Take that Las Vegas!

But fortunately, there were plenty of "only in Vegas moments" (OIVM), which made everything worth it.

OIVM #1: Holly, Jolly Christmas playing at Caesar's Palace while actors dressed up as Caesar and Cleopatra walked through the casino to cheers of "Hail, Caesar" from all the dealers.

OIVM #2: My friend Bethie (new to the world of Craps) rolled so well her first time at the table, she got a nickname ("Thundercat").

OIVM #3: Guy in front of us in the brunch line faints, but mumbles "I'm fine, let's keep going" despite not being able to stand up.

OIVM #4: Fat Elvis wearing a Santa cap.

OIVM #5: Topless review where women in thongs sing Christmas carols, giving the song "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" an entirely new meaning.

Ah, yes, got to love Vegas at Christmas time. But, despite my losses at Craps, I'll probably be up for going again next year. In the meantime, I'm going to the mall where at least I know that I will get something for my money, even if it's an electronic golf scorer for Dad.

Vegas, Baby!

Today, my hubby and a couple of friends are off to Vegas for the weekend. I realize this is not the season to go, but I can't think of a better way to spread holiday cheer than spending a weekend in sin city (isn't this what Jesus intended?). Okay, so probably not, but then again, there's nothing quite like the sound of jingle bells - on slot machines.

It's a celebration of sorts. I've turned in "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" which will be coming to a book store near you at the end of April. Look for it there and online! Buy it early and often!

So my apologies, because you probably won't be hearing from me for awhile, and if I win big - at all, ever! Okay, just kidding. I wouldn't just abandon you like that. I promise. This is because a) I like you; b) I'm under contractual obligation to Simon and Schuster to finish out my teen lit books; and c) I almost never win at slots.

Anyway, if you happen to actually live in Vegas, I'll be the girl at the craps table shouting "Mama needs a new pair of Jimmy Choos!" I'll have that wild look in my eye reserved for alcoholics and people with gambing problems.

I'll be back next week, unless I bet my laptop on black (Did I mention that Mama needs a new pair of Jimmy Choos!?).

I'd Rather Be Naughty Than Nice

Okay, so I'm in the bah humbug mood that always hits me after I spend hours addressing those darn holiday cards. Oh yeah, I'm filled with holiday spirit. It's called a serious hand cramp.

Seriously, I think I'm mailing a Christmas card to everyone in the known universe. If you haven't gotten one from me yet, don't worry - it's on the way.

Don't you ever wish you could be totally honest in those Holiday cards? Like: "Dear Aunt Edna, I haven't seen you since I was six years old. I don't know why I'm still sending you Christmas cards, since you keep confusing me with my cousin who went to drug rehab, but Happy Holidays!" or "Hey, cousin Todd! Why don't you get a job and quit sponging off Uncle Ty? He's got four other kids to support. Merry Xmas!" or "Dear in-laws, can't wait for the passive aggressive remarks over the Christmas ham. Season's Greetings!"

Maybe I ought to write a blanket newsletter like some of my other relatives do. I love these, by the way. "Tommy scored three goals at soccer this year! And Bob is now head of the church choir!!"

These letters are always mind-numbingly boring. Why? Because you KNOW they're lying. They're leaving out all the really good stuff - all the bad news. (And people, you aren't fooling anyone by throwing in a bunch of exclamation marks. We know it's still boring, even if there are "!!!!" at the end of every sentence. It's just screams false enthusiasm.)

I want to write one that's totally honest. Like, "Dear Friends and Family, this year was an exciting year for my husband and me - we spent it drinking! Heavily! It's quite possible we're alcoholics, but we don't care. We're drunk!"

Okay, so I clearly have an attitude problem. It's probably all the Christmas music at the mall. I guess I'm just not a Bing Crosby fan. It's all his fault. Dreaming of a white Christmas? Ha! I'm dreaming of a Christmas with self-sealing holiday cards that address their darn selves. Here's wishing you all a very short Christmas card list this year.

Nyquil - Shaken, Not Stirred

So, I've completely fallen off the blog wagon. I told you this would happen. I'm terrible at regular diary entries (see the dozens of half-started journals in my closet) and now here it has happened again. Sorry, dear blog readers!

Thankfully, I've got a legitimate excuse. I have a headcold, and so when I'm not downing Nyquil shots, I've been watching some really bad TV (including a Jackie Chan movie involving vampires and Kung Fu - I swear it's a real movie, and not just a fever-induced hallucination). That I actually watched said movie from start to finish tells you the state of mind I'm in. The idea of getting up and fetching the remote from my husband's chair was just too much effort.

I think I've shopped myself sick. You know, it's that time of year when I spent hours at the mall trying to figure what the heck my Dad and/or brother could possibly want.

I don't know about you, but I'm already sick of holiday shopping. Seriously. I've gotten myself FAR too much already. Ha. Ha. Kidding. Sort of. I've got that whole "one for you, two for me" problem. You see, when I'm out shopping, I can never find a gift for my Dad, but I find tons for me! Is that wrong? I suppose it's not quite in keeping with the season.

Lucky for me, being sick doesn't stop me from shopping online. Thank you Ebay! Kidding. Sort of.

Tryptophan Trippin'

Ah, all I can say in the post-Thanksgiving binge, is thank god for sweatpants. Seriously. Cotton + elastic = my new soulmate. Then again, I swear sweatpants pretty much all the time since I work from home, so it's nothing new to have give in my work uniform. These days, if I put on a pair of jeans, my husband says, "Wow! Why are you so dressed up?" Sad, but true.

So, one of the best things about Thanksgiving, you know, aside from eating yourself into a food coma and/or fighting with your siblings (my annual fight each year involves me, my brother and the topic of Bill O'Reilly), is that I buy trashy magazines for the plane ride and feel no guilt at all in reading them. A returning favorite is Cosmo. I love Cosmo because they treat sex like a complex and mysterious study worthy of PhD candidates and nuclear physicists. Make Your Man Hot! and The Sex Positions You Didn't Know!! scream out from the cover.

This is fantastic if you think about it, because the guys I've known have pretty much been happy just to see a pair of naked boobs, much less a yoga position involving the splits. I admit that I do like to read the stories (the same ones in every monthly issue) because I've been married awhile, and I do wonder if maybe sex has changed. It really hasn't.

This brings me to the next guilty pleasure: Us Weekly magazine. It's barely a step above Star, which has recently gone glossy. My favorite section of Us Weekly is "the stars are just like us." I swear to you, they had a "stars are just like us - they hold things under their arms" caption over some poor TV star putting a newspaper under her arm while talking on the phone. Fantastic. Yes, I realize that I'm funding the evil paparazzi who stalk stars and make their lives miserable, but how else am I supposed to know that Kate Hudson drinks lattes from Starbucks? Or that Jennifer Aniston shops at a grocery store? I mean, really, this is important information. Also, it makes me feel better about not wearing makeup and/or wearing shoes (Britney, I'm talking to you).

Ah, trashy magazines. You can't beat 'em.

Go Find The Balance

Sad news. Pat Morita, the actor who played Mr. Miyagi, died last week of natural causes at the age of 73. His most famous role, as Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid movies, earned him an academy award nomination.

Mr. Miyagi was a big part of "Dixieland Sushi." In fact, every chapter had quotes from him, so I was very sorry to hear about his passing. My sympathies go out to his family.

For those interested in reading more about him, check out these links:

Pat Morita on CNN


Pat Morita on USA Today

Happy Turkey Week!

Get out your stretchy pants, it's turkey time! So, we're nearly in the middle of the Big Three - Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas - the trinity that made elastic-waist pants a necessity. I don't know about you, but between that damn trick or treat candy and Mom's pumpkin pie, I am not going to be getting into my skinny jeans for a long, long while.

And Happy Birthday to Kate Miller and Stacey Cohen - the Thanksgiving week birthday girls!

I'm headed home to Big D (that's Dallas for you non-Texans) to visit my family for Thanksgiving. I hope everyone has a terrific holiday.

Poor, neglected blog readers

Okay, so I'm a bit busy right now. There's a short story I have to write (which I sort of forgot about) and it's now due in a week! And then there's that other pesky book I have to finish (Bard Academy, anyone?) and naturally, this means that I have to squeeze my notorious slacking into a shorter period than I'd like, frankly.

Take today for instance. I only watched an hour of bad television! Normally, I watch about eight.

So, what does this mean? It means, I'm sorry - but the blog is taking a back seat! My apologies for my neglect, but fear not. I'm sure I'll want to procrastinate soon and will be blogging away to avoid actual work.

In the meantime, my friend Stina passed along this link. I like that they commit to the act. That and their dance moves, totally make it:

http://backdormitoryboys.com/

Not Until the Fat Tyra Sings

Okay, so I can't help it. I got sucked into daytime television yesterday and happened to catch the Tyra show. For those of you who don't know about this daytime gem, it's the show where Tyra tries to convince us that she's just like us, by pinching her nonexistent love handles (only visible when she sits down and scrunches over) or by having a sonogram on national television to prove that her boobs are real. Because, apparently, some of us had been wondering?

Now, she's taken "just being like us" to an extrodinarily new level on Monday by disguising herself in a 350-pound suit just like Gwenyth Paltrow in "Shallow Hal."

See a clip of the show.

Oprah is catching pedophiles and Tyra is busy walking around in 40 pounds of latex to discover what we already pretty much know - it sucks to be overweight. Guys on blind dates treat you badly and you can't find your size in regular stores.

I don't know about you, but I think it would be far more interesting to see Tyra try to go undercover as a doctor, lawyer or physics professor. Now that would be interesting. Next Tyra: We unveil the shocking truth about surgeons: operating on people is really hard!

I realize I can change the channel at any time, but who would want to? It's television so bad it's good.

The Short Answer

If I seem a little groggy today it's because I'm recovering from a seriously social (read: alcohol laden) weekend. Friday, I saw an old friend from Austin and we drank our weight in wine and then pretty much bought one of everything on Michigan Avenue. I suspect I'll need a glass of wine in my hand when I open my next Mastercard bill. But isn't that the fun of credit cards? Buy now, worry later!

Saturday, I celebrated Miss Jane Ricordati's birthday in grand style - we all went out to eat and then went bowling. I was the only one of the group who perfected the "fall on your ass" technique for rolling a spare. Yes, I really did fall on my butt. My ball was too heavy for me, and apparently I wasn't clear on the "let the ball go" concept, and it sort of took me a few steps into the lane, where it's pretty damn slick, and I just - BOOM! - fell. This is what happens when you BUI (Bowl Under the Influence).

Hmmmm. I've mentioned alcohol now three times. Maybe I do have a problem?

Ahem. Moving on. It's time for the fan mail! My favorite part of blogging.

So Shannon from Mass. wrote, "I loved your short story from 'In One Year and Out the Other', can we expect to see some of the work that has been keeping you so busy in a collection like that again! As you can tell I am desperately awaiting some new reading material from you!"

First, God bless you, Shannon, for writing. Like all insecure writers, my fragile ego depends on praise. So thank you! Second, yes, you can expect some more short stories - tons, in fact!

I'll be in a few anthologies over the next couple of years. I've finished a nonfiction essay for "It's a Wonderful Lie: The Truth About Being In Your Twenties" which will hopefully be out later this year. My essay is about credit card debt - which (see above) I'm still struggling with obviously.

And, there's going to be a fiction anthology out next year called "This IS Chick Lit," which will be a soft rebuttal to the anthology "This Is Not Chick Lit" whose authors don't like the "chick lit" label. Personally, I don't care what anybody calls my work, as long as they buy it and enjoy it! And let's be honest, any time women like a book, it seems like we always find a way to degrade it somehow. We call it silly, or vapid, or lacking in substance. This has been going on since Jane Austen's time and before. I say, read what you like, and who cares what the New York Times says about it?

There are a couple of other possible anthologies in the works, and I'll let you know about those as I know about them. And I'll definitely let you know publication dates , which even I don't know yet!

Happy Day-After-Halloween

Hope you all had a marvelous Halloween! I'm going to shock you all by actually talking about writing today! Amazing - call CNN. This could be breaking news.

Sara writes and asks:

"How long does it usually take you to finish your first draft and have it ready to be sent in to an editor?"

This is a very good question. I think I could probably work on a draft forever, but the fact that I have deadlines means that I have to give it up sometime, ready or not, to my editor's red pen.

I think on average, it probably takes me about eight months to write a book, but I've written some in four months before. It's amazing what the fear of God, a deadline and the prospect of returning an advance will do for motivation.

It doesn't help that I'm a bit of a pantzer, which means that I procrastinate and I make up a lot of my books on the fly. I'm guessing this probably shows.

And Shannon from Massachusetts wanted to know whether or not there will be more short story anthologies like "In One Year and Out the Other" and the answer is YES! Absolutely! Actually, this coming year there will be so many anthologies (fiction and nonfiction) that trust me, you'll always have something to read! So far, I've finished two short stories, and have committed to do two more for other anthologies. Stay tuned. I'll give you more information on them as soon as I can.

Okay, back to revisions - I'll post more in a bit!

Working is for suckers

I'm sure you're wondering what happened to me this week, and I wish I could say it was a candy-induced sugar coma (don't those little fun-size candy bars mean that you can eat ten of them guilt-free?), but the sad truth is I've been working.

My editor got back to me with her requested changes for "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now" and I've been furiously working on those while also finishing up a couple of short stories, doing some freelance work, and oh yes, writing that pesky Bard Academy. I think, given all my free time, I might just also try curing cancer and maybe balancing our federal budget. Better yet, since Harriet Miers stepped down, perhaps I could be nominated to sit on the Supreme Court. I do have pretty strong opinions, and I probably could get some really smart Harvard law students to do all the real work for me. That's it - Cara Lockwood for Supreme Court Justice. My tagline could be "I have at least as much experience as Harriet Miers. I was never a judge either!"

Seriously, I have hardly had any time to do anything fun, even watch the finale of Taradise. (oh, Tara, we'll miss your drunken escapades - especially those of us, like me, who use you as an excuse for why we don't actually have drinking problems). What can I say? I'm all work and no play.

On that note - happy halloween, everybody! Eat lots of chocolate and do something fun that doesn't involve a) criminal activity or b) losing any self-respect. This includes dressing up for 'ho'lloween, wearing a latex nurse's outfit and dancing to "Funky Cold Medina" on the bar in stripper platforms. Trust me, anything that seems like a good idea after a few shots, is not a good idea.

Happy Halloween!

Happy 'Ho-lloween?

Halloween season is upon us, and this means only one thing: how skimpy an outfit are you going to buy this year? Is it just me, or has Halloween become the night we all try to out skank each other?

Should we blame Elvira? Or is it just because secretly we all want to wear fishnet stockings and stripper's clear platform heels?

My second (related) problem with Halloween is - why is it so expensive? Since when does a skirt that barely covers your butt and fishnet stockings run you $50? It's getting to be a little ridiculous.

But then again, maybe I'm just jealous because my Halloweens are usually so lame. On your typical Halloween, "dressing up" for me involves a pair of cat ears and a black velour jogging suit (the elastic waistband comes in very handy for all those mini-candy bars I'm going to eat). It also involves me watching a scary movie on television and devouring an entire bowl of trick or treat candy.

On a good night, I get maybe one trick or treater, but I always feel like I should be prepared with at least two pounds of candy just in case. I guess I live in mortal fear that a busload of trick or treaters will show up on my doorstep (a condo building filled with retirees) and I'll not have any candy and have to do something lame like give them boxes of high-fiber, low-sugar cereal.

By the way, for a laugh, my friend sent me a link to this costume. Yes, there really is a place that sells a space vampire costume. Don't ask me what it is. I have no idea. But it's funny. Definitely funny.

The Next Judy Blume?

So, I've started my next novel (already) because I've signed my soul away to Simon Schuster. Kidding! I'm kidding. The next novel is a slight departure from my previous books, in that it's a) aimed at teens and b) has a supernatural element. I know what you're thinking - have I gone insane? And, like my husband says, "What do you know about being a teenager?!"

Well, it goes without saying that I'm a very immature 32-year-old, but does this alone qualify me to write a book for teens? I don't know, but I am having fun. I can tell you that it's a lot more fun to write about the teen years than live them, that's for sure. The story is about a boarding school for troubled teens called Bard Academy, where things aren't as they should be. (Cue dramatic, slightly creepy music). Fear not, I'm still keeping plenty of humor - because, come on, I can't take things too seriously.

And don't worry - if you like my old books, I'm hoping you will like this one, too. It's still a lot of fun, even if the protagonist is 15. Come on, every one of us has an inner-15-year-old. She's the one who always wants to go to the mall and not do chores. Have we really come that far?

Taradise Lost

Okay, so I'm a total slacker. I haven't posted since Thursday! And yes, this has everything to do with the fact that I went out after the signing Thursday and had some wine and didn't feel like doing much Friday morning except popping Advil and moving very, very slowly.

Anyhow, thanks to all the cool chicks who came out Thursday. We had a great time. Clearly, I had too much of a good a time, but that goes without saying.

Speaking of drunken escapades, one of many celebs that helps me feel like I don't have a drinking problem, Tara Reid, got bad news last week. Her travel show, Taradise, has been cancelled. How tragic! I had only just begun to make fun of poor (misunderstood) party girl Tara Reid, and now she's leaving us. Apparently, she's complaining that producers of Taradise didn't accurately portray her in the show, choosing edits that fed the stereotypes of her as a party girl. Her words? They portrayed her as a "total party-girl drug retard."

Where did we ever get that idea? Maybe it was the pictures (see above) of her grinding on the dance floor. I don't know. I'm just guessing.

Look, I sympathize. Who among us wants a camera following us around after we swig a few drinks and spend an hour on the dance floor? I don't know any mascara that can hold up to that.

But, honestly, I want to know what's going to happen to her shoes. Since she signed on with Taradise, they've had their very own hotel suite, and now they're going to be homeless. I wonder if she'll offer some of them up for adoption. I would offer to become a parent to a pair of her stilettos, but I only have one guest room, not a hotel suite.

Think of the shoes! It's very sad, indeed.

Girls' Night Out

Okay, somebody call CNN. I know that Anderson Cooper will want this scoop. I have a reason to get out of my pajamas and actually get dressed in something that doesn't have an elastic waistband. Hooray!

Tonight, I'll be making an appearance tonight at Borders Books on Clark (and Diversey) at 7:30 p.m. with a few other fabulous local authors including Laura Caldwell (Burning the Map), Stacey Ballis (Inappropriate Men) and Jennifer O'Connell (Bachelorette #1).

That's:

Borders
2817 North Clark St.
Chicago, Illinois
Thursday, October 13, 7:30 p.m.

And if that's not enough of a draw for you, I heard a rumor they're going to be passing out coupons for free steaks at Mon Ami Gabi. Chicks 'n Steak. What else do you need for a good time? On second thought, don't answer that.

Hope to see you there!

We Are Family

Sorry for the delay about new posts! I've been in Dallas for a mini-Tanamachi reunion (see the women of my Dad's side of the family here). The one thing everyone should notice is that yes, I'm short - but guess what! It's genetic! Amazing.


Anyhow, my cousin is far left, then grandmother, then me, then my aunt, great aunts, aunt and stepmother. By the way, doesn't my 82-year-old grandmother look fantastic? Here's hoping I have her genes for the long haul.

First Glimpse of "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)"

Here's your first glimpse at the cover of the new book "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)," the spin-off to "I Do (But I Don't)." It's a wink at the first book (that had the wedding dresses). Of course, "I Did" follows Lauren's quirky younger sister, Lily. Look for the book this spring (probably May 2006)!

By the way, thanks to everyone who came to the chat online Monday. I had great fun! I always love to pretend I actually know what I'm talking about! If you'd like a summary of the chat, you can go to my agent's blog, http://knightagency.blogspot.com

Live Chat Tonight!

Have you got questions for me? Things you're dying to know (that are PG-rated)? Well, I'm going to be having a live chat tonight. My agent, Deidre Knight, has live chats with her clients every Monday. Tonight I'm featured. For more information, check out her blog http://knightagency.blogspot.com/. I'll be on at 9 p.m. EDT, 8 p.m. Eastern.