Wednesday, September 30, 2009

FBF Winner, and Proof of the Frozen Lacquered Spider

And the Free Book Friday Winner is...

Kim. (From Idaho)

Email me your top three choices from the pics below. brosam (at) gmail (dot) com

1. Remember Debbie/Cranberry Fries' comment after the spider post? About how her hubby and his roommate froze and lacquered a spider? And how I asked for pictures?
If you think that's awesome, you should check out her blog.

2. I just have to come to terms with the fact that I am the mother of boys. I asked Kid C to tell me about his day. He kept saying, "Nothing happened." When I pressed, he said, "Fine. I played with Bill Bill-o-bean."

I don't know what got into me, but I started to growl at my kid, saying this is not a conversation, and if he doesn't know how to have a conversation, then I'm going to go deaf. (This is always my "go-to" threat. My kids think I really go deaf.)

So I say again, "What did you do today?"

Kid C: "Had lunch with Bill Billobean."

I brought the car to a screeching halt, got out and slammed the door. I stood there, arms folded across my chest, full-on pouting.

Then I realized... Brodi you are one girl in a house of boys. There will be no heart to hearts. You're gonna have to deal with it.

I got back in. With one single tear streaming down his face, his lower lip trembling, Kid C says, "I did Math, Mom. That's what I did at school."

I said, "That'll do, Pig. That'll do."

3. Kid C has a "girlfriend". Her name's Lauren. He says they kissed.

My first question was, "Where?" I was thinking Lips? Cheek?

Kid C: "Recess."

So when he was saying goodnight, I told him to kiss me like he kisses Lauren. He proceeded to kiss my elbow.

I said: "Good job, kid. That's exactly how you kiss."

4. It's Banned Books week.

My own take (I won't wax prolific on this point because others have done a much better job at it): I loathe the idea of people getting together, deciding what books I should or shouldn't be allowed to read. Downright Un-American. Some of the greatest authors of all time have at one point been banned. (Maya Angelou, Ray Bradbury, Stephen King, Walt Whitman, Harper Lee to name a very few).

Now we can claim a connection to such an author! Writer buddy Emily Wing Smith's book The Way He Lived has made a list of books that are being challenged in a town in Florida. Read her post about it here.

I am so proud of Emily, and this badge of honor she has earned. I told her I'm going to make her a t-shirt with a Scarlet "B" on the chest to celebrate. I also want to thank Lake County Florida for drawing attention to her awesome book. Please go and congratulate Emily in the comments section on her blog. She'll love it.

Tune in for Friday's FBF. I'm anticipating a signed copy of Shannon Hale's newest Forest Born, and a few of Sara Zarr's latest Once Was Lost. They will both be up for grabs in the pool of books.

Monday, September 28, 2009

What Do You Do When There's a Dead Animal in Your Wall, and it Somehow Complements the Week You've Been Having?

Howdy. Hope everyone survived the weekend.

What I'm reading:

Just finished "If I Stay" by Gayle Forman. Loved it. It's told in the present, with tons of flashbacks, and since the book I'm writing now is like that, I was really excited to read it and see that style work.
Gayle Forman did an excellent job weaving the past and present together. So good that I'm half inspired, and half wanting to throw my book away because I suck.

What I'm Writing: I'm doing a bit of tweaking on a finished project.

What are y'all reading and writing? Any good books? Seen any good movies? Do you write a blog? What blogs can't you live without? Now's the time to promote it. Let us know what we should all be reading in the comments section today.

1. I'm Available for Speaking Engagements... Ha ha.

Do you ever have those weeks where your life is not quite going according to plan? During these times, I survive by imagining my future successful self, giving a speech to, like, school kids or cub scouts or recovering addicts, about how I've triumphed over weeks like this.

My speech this week would start out as follows:

"I totally remember this time, when I was a chubby housewife... and my 6-year old got in trouble at school for laying his head in his friend's lap, claiming he was 'dying of boredom'... and my 3-year old puked all over me as I picked him up from his first bus ride home from the Pingree School for Autism... and my cankles turned out to be shin splints... and that one project I've been working on for years was crashing and burning in a metaphorical pile of goo in the middle of my kitchen... and there was a very weird smell coming from my laundry room, that made me think a rodent of unusual size had died in the wall... But look at me now."

And then I'll show them the bronzed remains of the animal I found in the wall, and my 6-year old who's now 16 and didn't actually die of boredom, and my other son who's 13, and no longer pukes from the Earth's rotation and he's a real life Doogie Howser, and the pile of goo is now a published book...

Hold on. My 3-year old just handed me a booger.

And then I'd show them a picture of the nanny who now is in charge of receiving boogers, so I don't have to anymore.

The speech would be met with applause, and nods of approval, and people would come up afterward and pet the bronzed rat.

How do you guys deal with the potholes of life?

2. Hopefully you don't deal with them like this guy...

I watched Sam play a tennis match, but it was hard to pay attention because the match beside them was so freaking entertaining.

It was two older men. One had a knee brace, and every time he stepped on that leg, he would scream. A primal, gutteral grunt.

And when he had to run after the ball - which in tennis, one does often - it sounded like this:


Almost like he was being tortured.

Lucy (who was there watching tennis... Ethel doesn't play) and I could only asume the man with the brace was being forced to play against his will. There must've been a long-range rifle trained on his head, and a micro speaker bud in his ear, with a sadistic madman screaming, "I don't care how much it hurts. Play, or your head explodes!"

I really wanted to stand up and say something like, "Sir, are they holding a loved one of yours hostage, and you playing this match is the only way to get her back? Use morse code and give me a sign. Blink twice for yes."

Sometimes his opponent would deliver a drop shot, and all of us spectators would groan and smack our foreheads. I'm like half his age, and there's no way I would even try for those shots. The crowd would mumble, "Oh man. He's going for it, isn't he?"

Brace Guy yells as if his bionic leg is only triggered by primal screams. By the time he achieves forward momentum, it's already bounced like 5 times and is now rolling off the court.

The guy then screams again and throws his racquet, as if he barely missed the shot.

Lucy and I figured his captive loved one lost a finger at that point, because Brace Guy was so P-O'd.

Every time he looked over to the spectators, we'd all suddenly become insanely interested in the grass. The trees. Our fingers. Anything that would keep us from looking like the heartless weenies who are snorting at the guy in the knee brace.

Brace Guy lost the match. Threw his racquet in disgust. The following day, police discovered a body under the viaduct, with a tennis racquet sticking out of the neck where the head should've been.

Just kidding.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Free Book Friday: You can Enter Twice... And my Embarrassing moment of the Week

It's Free Book Friday again.

My stacks of signed books to give away are finally getting smaller. Yay. I will let you know how you can enter (you can even enter twice this week!) at the end of the post... Not because it's some big secret, but because it will make more sense at the end of the post.

Thing 1: Writer Peep Kim Reid (5 out of 6 on our crazy scale... see sidebar) just landed herself an agent. Those of you who are longtime readers of my blog know what a serious accomplishment this is. In my opinion, it's the biggest hurdle in the minefield of hurdles known as the publishing industry. Huzzah Kim!

Thing 2:
Do you ever pay attention to the music playing in the grocery store? Neither do I. Because it usually sucks.

So, I'm at the grocery store the other day, and I happen to notice the music. It was actually a pretty good song. I couldn't believe it. I thought maybe they got a new manager. A younger, hipper manager.

Well, it was a song I liked, so he couldn't have been that young or that hip. I digress.

Anyway, then the next song comes on, and it's another song that doesn't make me puke. Imagine my luck.

But the song was one of those ones that requires a "radio edit" in several places.

So I'm picking out my milk, when one of those "radio edit" spots come on... Only there's no edit.

Granted, the music is soft enough for the grocery store, but still loud enough that I can distinctly hear the expletive. Several of them.

I give the woman next to me a shocked look, and she looks at me with an equally disgusted expression.

I'm about to suggest we go alert the employees when the woman looks at my butt. And scowls.

Probably y'all have already figured out the twist to the story, but it took me a good 10 seconds to realize the music was coming from the iPhone blaring in my back pocket.

You see, Sam got me an iPhone player for my car speakers, and I didn't know the music keeps playing even after I unhook it.

And when in my back pocket, my phone's speakers were just muffled enough to sound like the store sound system.

I gave the woman a sheepish smile, and then sprinted for the door. As for why I would have such a song that needs radio edits, what can I say? Some good bands just have potty mouths.

To enter the contest:

1. Leave a comment here, and share an embarrassing moment or blunder of your own so we can commiserate. If you can't think of one, share one from your favorite book.

2. After you've done that, if you want to earn a second entry, you can head on over to Kim's blog and congratulate her in the comments.

Caveat: You have to leave a comment here first, just so I know which ones of Kim's commenters are there from my blog. Does that make sense? Let me know if it doesn't.

My kids are out of school today, because apparently a fissure will erupt in the universe if the kids actually attend all five school days in one week.

Have a great weekend, y'all. Anyone have fun plans? I'm having lunch with Cranberry Fries. I hope she actually brings Cranberry Fries.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Free Book Friday Winners, and a Close Encounter with a Hobo

FBF Winner:

Infant Bibliophile

Email me your top three choices at brosam (at) gmail (dot) com. Thanks again to everyone who entered. We ended up massacring a bunch of cliches!

Actual Blog Post

I went to sis-in-law E’s house for dinner, and there was one extra guest.

A rooster. I asked E about it, and she said her daughter (Niece E) had been asked to a dance with the rooster.

She opened her door, and on the porch, under a box, where three roosters. Two of them have since flown away.

Apparently, the note read, “Don’t be a chicken, and go with me to the dance.”

I don’t want to be the one to actually tell the boy that the bird was, in fact, a rooster.

Anyway, so the boy leaves the birds at my sis-in-law’s house. Can you believe that? He probably found them on Craigslist or something:


So I’m making my way to the backyard to say hi to the Rooster, when my other sis-in-law says, “Brodi, come check out this spider. I think it’s a Hobo.”

My feet freeze. I literally can’t move. I say, “I’m coming,” but I’m really just standing there.

You see, my fear of spiders is not wholly unfounded. When Sam and I were first married, I was up one morning, around 3 am, playing Halo. (I have since found a more productive outlet to insomnia, but back then, it was Castlevania and Halo.)

So, I’m up playing Halo, and out of the side of my vision, I see a thinnish brown rope, sliding along the carpet near the door.

I know what you’re thinking… Alien tentacles.

N-T. Tentacles.

But it’s not an alien tentacle. It’s even worse. It’s a long line of Hobo spiders, making their way from a hole in the carpet near the door, across the living room to the kitchen. Never ending. Did you ever see that scene in Arachnophobia, where the spiders pour out of the sink drain? It was like that.

Only they were in a straight line. Probably autistic.

I didn’t have any spider repellent at the time, so I grabbed the closest aerosol can I could find.


Because spiders are made of hair.

To make a long story short (too late) I froze that line of Hobo’s right in their tracks. Then I lit a match at one end.

Totally kidding about the match. But I did drown them in hairspray.

Turns out there was a giant nest of Hobo’s just outside our basement apartment’s door.

So, back to sis-in-law M. She grabbed a glass jar and captured the Hobo. We all examined the spider, and I said, “Yep. It’s a Hobo. You can tell by the Chevron markings on its back.”

And then my bro-in-law D came outside, and examined the spider, and said, “Yep. It’s Hobo. You can tell by the Chevron markings on its back.”

Apparently, we read the same tutorial on “How to Identify the Hobo, and then Run for your Frakkin’ Life.”

Bro-in-law D looked at me, and then I fessed up. I have no idea what Chevron markings are.

Meanwhile, the Hobo twisted and turned, as if to illustrate where exactly the Chevron markings could be found on his body. Okay, he was really just suffocating to death.

So, in my lifetime, I have killed Hobo spiders with hairspray and with lack of oxygen. If I had my druthers (what the heck are druthers, anyway?) I would choose death by hairspray. (The spider’s death, not mine.) Next time, though, I might try the match thing. Make it a blowtorch event.

So, back to the chickens. (Bet you didn’t think this story could come full circle, did you? Goes to show it’s not only good stories that come full circle.)

I think Niece E’s plan is to answer the boy with a whole raw chicken, and say something like, “The other two were delicious. Thank you.”

Personally, I think she should answer him with a bill from the vet for rooster euthanasia.

Anyone have good spider stories? Or chicken stories?

No chickens or roosters were harmed in the making of this blog. One hobo was harmed. And it wasn’t pretty.

Monday, September 21, 2009

I am Predictable... See? I knew I was Gonna Say That

I Guess I am Predictable

On my actual birthday:
I took some NyQuil and crashed at 4:30 p.m.


I convinced Sam to take me to The Melting Pot.

I spent a buttload of money on books.


I joked that this year, I became one year younger.


I slept in for five days straight, claiming, "It's my birthday week."


I watched Kanye's blunder, and complained about "kids these days."

Sam's also predictable, though. He forgot to give me my present on Friday. Then he forgot again on Saturday. Then he forgot again on Sunday. Now it's Monday... Still don't know what I got, but I refuse to remind him. I wonder if he'll read this post?

Speaking of overused cliches...

Here is the list of overused cliches provided by you lovely blog readers. It's time to behead them and pull their spines out.

Rest in Peace cliches:

1. red letter day

2. here today & gone tomorrow

3. it's all fun & games until someone looses an eye.

4. air quotes

5. Whatnot

6. like a thief in the night.

7. no brains, no headaches.
8. stick out like a sore thumb

9. easy as pie/piece of cake

10. when life throws you lemons...make lemonade
11. If I had a nickle for every time I wanted a raisin, I'd be rich!

12. Avoid like the plague.
13. It is just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man.

14. Sweating like a pig. (Pigs don't sweat!)

15. And my personal favorite, because I really don't think I've ever heard it before: "There's more than one way to kill a cat than choking it with butter." Cool. Thanks Becky.

16. I would like to add: "Put some elbow grease into it."
What the heck is "elbow grease"? If I could pick the least greasiest spot on my body, it would be my elbow.
Sam says he loves elbow grease. It's great on panini's.

Thanks for entering the contest everyone. And to you de-lurkers, I think I love your presents most of all. Partly because Sam hasn't given me anything yet... (Did you know I have a follower, a girl in Australia, named "Brodie"? So cool.)

My mom even de-lurked. Which means she does read my blog.

Okay, okay. I actually had to go over to her house, pull up my blog on her laptop, and chase her through the kitchen until I finally cornered her and shoved the laptop in front of her.

But hey, she must've liked it. She left a comment.

Okay, okay. I typed the comment for her. Are there any therapists out there?

The winner will be picked on Wednesday by Smokey the Hairless Cat, as usual. (See? Predictable.)

One last birthday thingee:

My friend "Lucy" (one half of Lucy and Ethel) texted me on my birthday.

Text #1:
"Can Ethel and I take you to lunch or dinner for your bray if so when"

2 seconds later:

Text #2: "I mean beau"

Hey. We're old. We're not supposed to be able to text.

Seriously last birthday thingee:

I went to tip at my birthday breakfast, and there was a totally awesome message on the dollar bill: "For a good time, call ***-****. Ask for Dominic." I got all excited, thinking my birthday couldn't get any better, until I read the rest:
"Males only. :)"

Fine, Dominic. Whatev's. Coulda been great.

If you would like Dominic's number, let me know.

So, what's your vote? Do you think Sam will get the subtle hints from this post and give me my frakkin' present? He's even walking behind me right now, getting the kids ready for school. All he has to do is look at what I'm typing!

Nope. Walked right on by.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Free Book Friday, and What You Can Give me for My Birthday

I haven't done an update in a while, so here goes.

What I'm Reading:

Catching Fire.

Re-reading is more like it, because it's so stinkin' good. It's the sequel to The Hunger Games, and if you haven't read these books, I heartily recommend them.
For anyone who has read them, I'm totally TEAM GALE.

The down side to reading such a good book is knowing I will never, ever, be able to write something as good.

Anywho, back from my little pity party...

What I'm Writing:

32,000 words into my WIP.

It's not looking good for my heroine, I'll tell you what.

Free Book Friday:

As always, there are two ways to enter:

1. I warned you lurkers out there to beware. Today is my Birthday, and for my birthday present, I want you lurkers to de-lurk. All 2 million of you.

I'm prepared for the excuses...
Just stopping by today? It's your first time? Tell me about it.

Don't think you have anything useful to add? Read Cam's comments.

Don't speak English? Sprechen sie deutsch? Guten tag, peeps!

Not reading my blog because it's a Friday, and no one reads it on a Friday? Then, how did you just read that sentence? Gotcha!

Don't wanna comment cuz you're my mom's neighbor? Hi Margaret!

So, for my Birthday, and the sweet-sixteen I never had, my Prom Date that went home with another girl, the mud pies my sister made me eat, the time I peed my pants during my tennis lesson... wow. I'm pathetic. Anyway, for my Birthday, I want a "hi" from at least one measly little lurker.

If all 2 million of you want to de-lurk, even better.

2. For non-de-lurkers, write down your favorite overused cliche and we will have a funeral of sorts for it. Bonus points if you twist something in it to make it funny.

ex: "Like shootin' fish in a barrel."

bonus ex: "If a tree falls in a forest, it's still a tree, isn't it?" (From the season finale of a vamp show...)

And that's how you play the game.

Actual Blog Post:

1. My bro-in-law Mark says I'm predictable because I picked eating at the DoDo for my birthday, and apparently I always eat at the Dodo.

We were having dinner at a restaurant when he said it, so I instantly got up and started tap dancing in front of everyone, all the while saying (in between panting), "Am I still predictable? Who's predictable now, suckah? How's that for spontaneity? Zing!"

Finally I stop tap-dancing, and I ask him, "Did you predict that?"

He deadpans: "Yes."

I realized the missing key to my strategy: next time get him to predict my behavior BEFORE I actually do it, not after.

2. Yesterday, I wanted to get a massage. On my way to the spa, I called hubby to tell him where I was going. He's like, "Just wait. Maybe you'll get one for your birthday."

Me: "But I really want one today."

Him: "You haven't wanted a massage for months, and suddenly the day before your birthday, you want a massage? Please wait."

Me: "Fine."

So, I hung up the phone and drove to the spa anyway. What hubby doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

As I'm undressing in the room, my phone rings. It's Hubby. I answer.

"You're there, aren't you?" he accuses.

"No," I say, a little muffled because I'm pulling my shirt off. "Paranoid much?"

Sam: "I'm on the phone with the front desk at the spa right now. They called to let me know you'd come in one day early, and did I want to just switch your birthday massage to today."

me: "Oh."

Sam: "So, happy freakin' birthday."

me: "What a great surprise. Thank you."
(This is totally what I look like when I get a massage. Brunette.)

3. During the massage, I fell asleep while I was on my stomach. There's nothing worse than feeling like you're wasting a good massage by sleeping.

Then I had one of those dreams where I'm falling off a cliff, and suddenly I jerked awake.

Masseuse: "Uh, are you okay?"

Me (not wanting to admit I fell asleep): "I'm fine. It's just that my nose is running... and ... dripping onto the floor."

Yeah, because that's so much less embarrassing than falling asleep.

So, any fun plans for this weekend? I think my Hubby is going to surprise me with a dinner at Melting Pot tomorrow night. I might go by myself tonight, one night early, just to mess with him.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Free Book Friday Winners, and the Subtlety of Twilight Fans

Howdy, y'all.

And the FBF (Free Book Friday) winner is...


Email me your choice of books from the picture below. (Give me two options, in case I don't have the first choice. I'm too lazy to take a new picture.)
I really love this Free Book Friday stuff. I'm learning so much about all of you. As a heads up for this coming Friday... Watch out, you Lurkers!

My Blog Readers are Dedicated, but not so Creative

So, I loved hearing about everyone's imaginary friends after Monday's post. But I have to admit, the names of said friends left a little to be desired.

Some of the Names:

1. House

2. Computer
3. Potato
4. Bobby
5. Can't remember the name. Can't even remember if imaginary friend was a boy or girl. Which begs the question: If a nameless, sexless imaginary friend falls in a forest, is it still an imaginary friend?

Actual Blog Post

It's sorta been a non-crazy week. Usually I have a topic in mind when I blog. But not today. How about a numbered run-down of my week until something pops up?

1. Sam and I played tennis for about 45 minutes on Thursday, until Sam got tired out and wanted to quit. Just as I was trash talking him (C'mon, wuss! Are you a man, or a chihuahua?), channeling Serena (I'm gonna take this --------- ball and shove it down your ----------- throat) and pullin' out my Compton moves (imagine "Oh noh, you did-ehn") I collapsed to the ground, clutching my right shin, in severe pain.

Seriously, I couldn't breathe, it hurt so much. Sam had to basically carry me out of the gym.

Now for the worst part. The following day, my lower leg started to swell. And then BOTH legs started to swell.
You're probably thinking the same thing I was thinking: Blood Clot or Pulmonary Embolism. (Okay, I got those from WebMD).

I told my sister about it (her hubby's a doctor, who puts up with my neuroses) and she immediately left her dinner party to come over. Only problem was, she brought her entire dinner party over to my house, to check out my legs.

After her hubby poked and prodded my legs, and asked me a series of questions like "You still have arteries right? and You're not in your 60's, correct? and Do you recall leaving your kidneys anywhere?" he came up with a diagnosis: Cankles.

Yes, my sister's entire dinner party (for her birthday, I might add) filed into my living room to get a good look at the tree stumps heaven accidentally game me in place of real legs.

It was the best birthday present I could've given her. Next year, I plan to reveal the strange looking mole on my lower back. Tickets are required.

2. Kid C lost his second tooth. Swallowed it, to be more precise. The first tooth he lost, he physically lost the darn thing while he was hiking. I told him the tooth fairy would let it slide just once.

Now he's swallowed another tooth. He's scared the tooth fairy isn't going to be so forgiving this time. So we're waiting anxiously for it to appear again so he can get his quarter.
When do I get my "Mother of the Year" award?

3. I got these Twilight earrings for my birthday.

The inscription says, "Show off your Twilight Obsession with style and subtlety."

Yes, because Twilight fans are anything if not subtle.

I can just imagine wearing these beauties at a party, and I look across the room, and another woman is wearing her Twilight earrings, and we both give each other a subtle nod that says, "We are too elegant to lose our composure right now, but if Edward actually existed, we'd both leave these Shlums we're married to, just so we could cover our bodies in paper cuts. Enjoy the party, comrade."

I'm spending today at B&N for a marathon writing day. How are y'all's weeks going?

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Mysterious Brigham Tortilla, and Rafa Crashes and Burns

Mocha Man Meets Untimely End...
Rafa's triumphant return came to a bone-crunching halt yesterday. Juan Martine "I love my tall, Gladiatorial body" del Potro handed Rafa his bum on a platter. (To use tennis terminology).

RIP Rafa 6-2, 6-2, 6-2

Thank you for your kind words at this time, everyone. (Except Cam). Rafa, always a class act, smiled afterward and graciously agreed to a post-loss interview.

Speaking of class acts, Serena Williams lost her temper at one of the line judges. Because she let the "F" word fly, she was automatically docked one point. Only problem was, that point happened to be match point. Sorta anticlimactic.

And for moms everywhere, the highlight of the tournament was when Kim Clijsters won the Women's championship. She left the tour two years ago when she had her baby. She had to get into the US Open with a wild card. Last night she won the whole taco. I remember my bod post-baby. I had to be carried around everywhere by the jaws of life. Seriously, large cruise ships docked on my thighs.

Lunch with Brigham Tortilla
Kid C is just like me. He has a serious problem remembering people’s names. Only he’s much more creative about it.

The other day, he comes home from school and tells me he had lunch with his older cousin Abram.
I asked him who Abram was sitting with.

Kid C: “Um… Brigham.”

Me (I know most of Abram’s friends): “Brigham? Brigham who?”

Kid C: “Brigham Tortilla. You don’t know him.”

Me: “Abram’s friend is named ‘Brigham Tortilla’?”

Kid C: “Yeah.”

I racked my brain, trying to remember Abram’s friend’s name.

Finally, Me: “Do you mean Finn?”

Kid C: “Yeah. Finn.”

Finn. Brigham Tortilla. Hard not to confuse the two. Also, when I ask who he plays with at recess, he says: “Um… Shanden, Planden and Franden.”

I guess they’re triplets?

Heck, I used to tell my mom I had lunch with Winkin, Blinkin and Nod. I didn’t have many real friends.

FBF winners:

Free Book Friday winners will always be announced on Wednesdays.

So, what are y'all doing this week? Anything fun? I plan on working out again, unless the shin cancer explodes again.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Free Book Friday: and Inside the Mind of a Hypochondriac


We had a great turnout for last Friday’s contest, and three people won autographed books. Thanks!

This week, there are two ways to enter:
1. Link to this post on your own blog, Twitter, Facebook, etc. and talk about the contest. Then provide the link in the comments section. I promise to check out your blogs.

2. Answer the following questions:

a. Who would play the role of you in the movie about your life?
b. What does “a day in the life of you” look like?
c. Have you read any good books lately? If so, which ones?
d. Thing that must stay:

If you do both, you are entered twice. Twice!

I will answer them too.
a. Kathy Griffin
b. Type, eat, blog, tennis, eat, veg, drive, eat, type, eat, sleep.
c. Catching Fire
d. Good ‘n Plenty, Chocolate, and the sun.

Good luck.

Thing 1:

Rafa’s match was rain delayed last night, so tune in today to ESPN 2 to see him play Gonzalez.

Need another reason to love Rafa? (I know I do). A few nights ago, a fan charged onto the court and kissed Rafa on the cheek. A major security problem.

But check out how Rafa just laughs it off in the interview after. Seriously, why didn’t I try this when I saw him in Palm Springs? Something to remember next time.

Thing 2:
The other day I was leaving a message for my Friend “D”, and about halfway through, I totally belched. On her answering machine. Then I couldn’t stop laughing, and through the hysterics, I further explained – on the machine – that I had just burped.

Then I started discussing whether this was a necessary observation, or maybe they wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t mentioned it, etc.

It’s okay, though, because Friend D left me a message and told me she snorted loudly all through my message as she listened. It made me feel a little better.

Thing 3:
If you read through the comments section from Wednesday, you might’ve noticed Friend A (Elle Macpherson to my Tubbs) referenced a conversation we had in the car on the way to the gym. Keep in mind, we are both extreme hypochondriacs. So, I thought it would be fun for all of you non-hypochondriacs to get this little glimpse in the life of the clinically insane.

BRODI AND FRIEND A: Actual Conversation in Car on the way to the Gym

A: “I’ve had this metallic taste in my mouth all morning. I’m afraid it might be a stroke.”

Me: “Have you tried chewing gum? Brushing your teeth?”

A: “Yes. It’s still there. So I’m just telling you, in case I black out while we’re working out. You can tell the doctors about the metallic taste.”

Me: (Looking for any excuse to ditch the working out): “It probably is a stroke. I can drive you to the hospital if you want.”

A: “No, I think I’m fine. But if I pass out, tell ‘em it was a stroke.”

Me: “Maybe you should get a CT Scan.”

A: “I’ve had them. For my sinuses.”

Me (because this is seriously the conversation we have every day): “So, if you got one of those full body CT scans, do you think they’d find anything? If so, where?”

A: (She answered yes, but I won’t tell you where because I think it breaks patient/friend privilege.)

Me: “For me, I think they’d find them in my brain.”

A: “Cuz of the migraines?”

Me: “Well, that and I’ve been getting scabs inside my nose.”

A: “We all get scabs in our nose. It’s the dry air.”

Me: “Yeah, but it’s also a sign of a brain tumor.”

A: (Freaking out, because she has noses scabs too): “What are you talking about? Please tell me you’re kidding!!”

Me: “I’m not. I saw it on an episode of House once.”

A: silent as this piece of information sinks in.

Me: “Don’t worry. Your stroke will get you first.”

A: “Okay. Let’s go lift weights in Courage Corner. Also, my leg hurts. So tell ‘em it could be a blood clot too.”

Me: “Will do.”

I had to cancel on the gym this morning cuz I messed up my leg/ankle yesterday during tennis. When I told Friend A about my injury, she told me it was probably “Shin Cancer” that has now exploded.

Have a great weekend. Anyone doing anything fun?

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Free Book Friday Contest winners: And Sam's Latest Offenses against me

Book Contest Winners:

Thanks to all who entered by answering the questions, or following the blog. To kick off the "Free Book Friday", Smokey the Hairless Cat has chosen THREE winners.

1. Brittany Landgrebe

2. Briana (Book Pixie)
3. Jessica Christensen Congrats to the winners.

And for the rest, another contest Friday. (No hard questions, I promise).

Winners, please email me at brosam (at) gmail (dot) com with your book choice from the pictures below. (These are all autographed. I was too lazy to type them out, hence the picture). Choose at least two, in case there is overlap.
Rafa Watch: My lover is back in top form, beating flamboyant frenchman Gael Monfils. You know what I really like about Rafa? He's full of quirks. All writers have quirks, most are mad as snakes. And I'm betting a high percentage of my blog readers have quirks.

Rafa's quirks:

1. He picks his wedgie between every point. (I found out the polite way to say this is, "He adjusts his pants.")

2. His water bottles have to be placed under his chair just so, and on every changeover, he takes a sip from each one and then returns them to their exact position.

3. He doesn't step on the lines in between points.

4. He tucks his hair behind his ears before each serve.

5. He towels off between every point.

Maybe that's why I love him so. He's mental.

My Holiday weekend in a nutshell:

Sam is Heartless
On Monday, Sam’s sister had a poolside barbecue. Halfway though my hotdog, I started to choke.

Sam’s offenses:
1. At first, he looked annoyed that I was interrupting some story someone else was telling.

2. Then, he patted my knee. As if that action would dislodge the hotdog stuck in my throat.

3. He asks if I have a drink. When I shake my head vigorously, he puts on a concerned face and (subconsciously) takes a sip of his Tab as he watches me sputter.

Um, I guess the honeymoon’s over?


In my quest to become Hott!TM Friend A and I have been lifting weights at the gym. Friend A is a star. If we were Crockett and Tubbs, she’d be Elle Macpherson, and I’d be Tubbs.

In one mirrored corner of the workout area, there is a padded floor, and a large sign above it that says, “Courage Corner.”
I used to think it was really lame. And every time I felt tired, I’d growl to Amy, “C’mon. It’s Courage Corner. We cannot fail!”

But on Monday, we went to Courage Corner to do abs, and found it was full. So we had to settle for another area of the gym, a corner I now refer to as “Judgment Alley.”

The entire wall in this corner is a window, instead of a mirror. And on the other side of the window are the Yoga nuts. They face the window, twisting their bodies into shapes that can only be described as alien. And they just stare through the window, into our little padded corner.
You can see how close they would be... noses to glass

I got a hernia just watching them. There’s an army of them, perfect little rows and rows. And they were watching me. Waiting for me to lug my big fat human butt over to the padded floor (directly in front of them) to do my “crunches”. (I use the quotation marks purposely there).

For a minute, I couldn’t help feeling like the entire world was made up of yoga nuts, and I was a caged animal in the zoo, and they were all watching me, saying, “Look at the fat chick. A rare species, seldom seen out of the wild.”

Nut #2: “Ah, isn’t it cute? It thinks it’s doing crunches. Sweet, tubby little thing.”

Nut #3: “Don’t feed it, though. It may snap at the slightest provocation.”
Can anyone relate?

Friday, September 4, 2009

Free Book Friday: A New Blog Tradition, Until I run out of Money

Rafa Update:

My main squeeze Rafa won his first round match, breezing past Frenchman Gasquet while simultaneously rockin’ the black shorts and yellow shirt. Hott! He plays again tonight. Vamos Rafa!
Check out the guns.

Sam’s main squeeze (some super-skinny Russian chick) lost in the first round.

On the count of three, let’s all give him a shout of support. 1… 2… 3:


Thank you for helping me console hubby.


Today officially kicks off our “Friday Giveaways”. I have way too many YA titles. So, here’s how you enter.

A. If you’re not a follower: Follow me. Then tell me you did in the comments. Easy Peezy.

B. If you are a follower: I want to get to know you better. Answer the questionnaire:

1. What’s your name?
2. Are you a writer?
3. Everyone has a book in them. What would yours be called?
4. Create the next line to this limerick:
a. There once was a man from Poughkeepsie…
5. What would number 7 on your 25 things about you list be?
6. Briefly describe a childhood memory that has stuck with you.
7. Things that must go?

To get the ball rolling, I’ll answer the questions.

1. Brodi Shawn Ashton
2. No. I type.
3. Ummm… Echo.
4. Who liked to dress up as a Gypsy
5. I pee a lot. (actual number 7 on my list).
6. In sixth Grade, hottie Matt Nance told me my ears were tiny and cute. Still gives me the chills. I’ve had an unnatural obsession with my ears ever since.
7. Cold sores, boogers and politics.

Normally you will have only Friday to enter. But this being the first contest, I may be more lenient. Maybe.

It's a holiday weekend. What are y'all doing? I think I'm going to Midway for Swiss Days. Because we have a little town in Utah that thinks it's in the the Alps. I don't know.

Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Thing About Me #17, and Naked Mondays

Favorite moment from this week so far:

Kid C came home from school with his shirt off. Tried to convince me Mondays were “Naked Day” at school.

Biggest Brain Dead Moment:

I had to read this headline from the newspaper about 100 times before the sentence sounded right.

“Gmail Outage Deprives Millions of Email”

Anyone else?

One More Notch in the Longest 25 Things About Me Tag in the World.

Since we have a lot of new blog readers, I thought we should make some headway in the “Longest 25 Things about me Tag in the History of the World.”

We are on #17. Here’s a recap for the newbies. (I’ve never consolidated the list before. Looking at it, I wonder why I even bother.)


1. I'm a girl.

2. I'm a dork

3. I skipped this one, because I had to brush my teeth.

4. I skipped this one, because I was coming back from brushing my teeth.

5. I beat up Sam in his sleep.

6. Wooo Hoo! Only 845 more to go!

7. I pee, like, 15 times before I go to bed.

8. I'm a hypochondriac.

9. Really, number 8 should count for two, because it's such a big part of my life.

10. I have a very paranoid relationship with food in my fridge.
I found this meat in my freezer on Monday. Date: November 2005. 2005. 2005.

11. I talk to signs. I get angry at them.

12. Ummm…

13. Walked out of “I love you, Man” because I was offended. Saw “Watchmen” instead.

14. Spring forward to #15, for daylight savings.

15. Let me know if we’re in a fight. Otherwise, I’ll never know.

16. I like to drain pus.

Wow. Lame.

Observations from the list so far:
a. I’m not very likable.
b. I’m not very creative.
c. I’m incredibly lazy.
d. I’m kinda gross.

Moving on…
Thing about me #17

My brain is unable to process things, like details.

I know some of you are thinking, “If it can’t process details, WTH does it do?” Which is a very good question. One for a later post.

My friends know this about me, and often say things like, “Don’t worry, I’ll send you an email about it later.”

Segue: Anywho, my good friend Cath has 5 kids ages 4 and under.

Let me repeat. FIVE KIDS ages FOUR AND UNDER!

This wrinkle in the universe was made possible by two sets of twins (2 year olds and newborns).

I’ve been meaning to do something for her for like, forever. But I suck. So after three months of prompting myself, I finally made the effort.

I decided to go to Costco, and pick up whatever she needed. Because I can always find something I need at Costco.

I stopped by, and she told me she needed bacon. Because what young mother doesn’t?

I go to Costco. Find a few baubles for myself. Two hundred dollars later, I’m on my way back to Cath’s house.

2 blocks away, as I’m twisting around so I can pat myself on the back, I make a sinking realization.

No bacon.

All she asked for was bacon. I went to Costco specifically to get the bacon for her. Spent 200 dollars. Forgot the Rakkin Frakkin bacon!

I would’ve gone back, but my warped psyche will not allow me to go shopping twice in one day. (That should totally be #18. I hate shopping!)

Sorry, Cath. We’ll try it again next week, shall we?

Friday Preview: I have way too many books, most of them autographed. So, starting Friday, we will have weekly blog contests. Stay tuned!