I find myself wondering again if I am really ready to be an adult. It isn't nearly as much fun the day after Halloween when you know too much. Gorging on candy isn't nearly as fun when you know about cavities, blood sugar, and buying bigger pants. Packing away your costumes isn't as satisfying when you don't have real expectations of getting to wear them again for another three hundred and sixty days or more. Of course, one can always resort to costume therapy. This is only successful if you find time alone so that people won't wander in and question your fashion tastes.

Costume therapy is what I do when being me gets a little more dull than I can handle. I am not confessing to how often that may be. I do seem to have a lot of costumes if that is any indication.

My other preferred therapy is chocolate therapy. That could be quite easy to engage in at the moment since I have a big bag of candy on my kitchen table. I am trying to ignore it. We'll see how that works out for me. I fear it could just lead me to attack the equally big bag of Willy Wonka treats which include laffy taffy and bottle caps and nerds.

In other news, despite the temptation to just hunker down on the couch with a big bag of candy on either side and leftover Halloween movies slowly playing out on the screen, I accomplished something today. This year's nanowrimo novel has actually been started. Considering my lack of success over the past three years that is better than not having started yet. We'll have to see if I continue to make progress in that endeavor. I also saw that this month is supposed to be some sort of blogging month. I am pretty sure blogging every day doesn't look like a viable prospect this month, so try to control this excitement.

I continue to struggle with two sides of my nature. On one hand I want to be the faithful, dependable, loyal friend. On the other hand, I tire of people taking advantage of me, expecting more of me than they are willing to offer, and making me feel guilty for unhappiness they bring on themselves. I think I draw closer and closer to cutting such people out of my life. The good thing about such a decision is that none of them will notice until they need something, and, with luck, that will be a couple of years down the road. I am certain I have done this before, but I feel compelled to review my definition of a good friend.

A Good Friend...

is patient, kind, loyal, honest, respectful, knows whether to just listen or offer advice.

doesn't try to change who you are.

listens to your concerns and doesn't disregard what you say because they don't want to believe it.

makes a little time for you in response to you making time for them.

is not jealous of your other friends and doesn't try to make you give them up.

is happy with getting some of your attention even if it isn't as much as they wanted.

I guess it shouldn't bother me so much that some people think I am completely expendable. After all, it just goes to show that they have no signifigance in my future either. I just have too big of a heart to treat people like garbage even if that is what they treat me as. The saddest part is that I have too many real friends to worry about the fake ones. Of course, my charming since of humor wants to use an amusing metaphor here, but I think I will spare my readers that trauma.

Also, I would like to note the veracity of my previous statement that I would not update this journal every day this month. I have been doing slightly better with my nanowrimo. I am currently on schedule with the site's expectations which means I am behind my own. I was very careful to not count on adding any words to my word coffers on quite a few days in the chilly month of November.

TOP TEN LESSONS FROM ICE SKATING (FROM A NEWBIE) [In no particular order for those new to my way of top tenning!]

10. No matter how hard I flap my wings, I will never get airborn.
9. Posture makes a difference regardless of what years as a couch potato leads one to believe.
8. Hockey players are more talented than I realized: they can skate, fight, and chase a frozen piece of rubber at the same time. I can barely skate.
7. Ice is hard whether you fall on your bottom or your knees.
6. People on the ice are like planets: the newbies tend to veer towards those who have a clue.
5. Before one figures out how to stop, they may not want to pick up speed.
4. Wisdom dictates that the skates must be laced tight enough that one cannot walk out of them (unless one likes having cold feet).
3. It is best to ignore the people watching you through the window if you don't know what you are doing or you will meet the ice, again.
2. They are called blades for a reason.
1. The ice is my friend. The ice is my friend. The ice is my friend.

My husband and I spent our anniversary weekend at a resort. We got to spend time snuggling, causing bubble catastrophes, eating like hobbits, and carefully selecting activities that would maximize on our happiness. This meant my husband was kind enough to watch me wobble around on a pair of borrowed skates while trying to fix years of bad posture. I am quite surprised that I didn't fall down more than twice. We also played miniature golf which has proved to not be in my skill set at all. Luckily, we were playing when fewer people were around since I kept launching the ball and/or racking up a nice big score. You win when you have the highest score, right?

Other highlights included the jets in the heart-shaped tub. I know it is tacky, but it is also quite comfortable for lounging amidst huge pillows of bubbles. Had I been able to adjust one of the jets better, I may have missed out on water shooting into my face and onto the mirrors around the tub. If I had any self-control, I wouldn't have poured two capfuls of bubble bath into the tub just to watch the bubbles build up almost to the point of puring over the edge of the tub onto the floor. As you can imagine, applause was necessary to show my feelings.

I also discovered that the muscles I developed as a young lass in the mountain state are still in good working order. I decided to explore the extent of the resort by foot instead of waiting for the courtesy vehicle. We were wise enough not to make the uphill trek again with sweetie's skates in tow. That would have probably cut into the fun I had asking him for pointers as I tried to get my ice legs.

I also may have disturbed other people who were seated with us during meals with my excessive appreciation of sugar. They didn't run away screaming, but I did get a few odd looks when I informed my husband that he may regret my sugar-related decisions. If you have never seen me bouncing on sugar, you are missing out. I have had someone I just met offer to buy me chocolate cake just to see how much more entertaining I can get.

I am also considering rounding out the new year by self-publishing a collection of poems or something as exciting. Any chance you'd like to weigh in on what you'd like to see? Send me your thoughts at fanklubz at meowmail dot com .

The turkey has been cooked and much of it has been eaten. The pumpkin pie sits heavy around my hips. The leftovers in the fridge call out to me, waiting for me to devour them. My husband has been kind of enough to assist me with the potatoes and stuffing. However, no one , even the invited guests, wanted to help me with my delicious green bean casserole. That was not a complaint, mind you. That was me gloating over my green, oniony goodness. All of this talk of Thanksgiving treats that keep on giving leads right into Christmas thoughts.

Of course, I made about half of this years allotment of Christmas candy already. I added cream drops and maple creams to my repetoire which means I may end up gaining another couple of pounds this year. I hope the lucky people who make the candy list appreciate helping me avoid that problem :)

Part of my day was devoted to putting up the Christmas decorations. It all began with a journey into the attic. On the short list of places where I can whack my head repeatedly, this would be number one. As I managed to not knock myself, I got the tree up and decorated with many penguins. I rediscovered the kissing penguin ornaments and put them at a good level for constant playing. How do you think I keep my Christmas cheer going? It isn't just the candy.

After carefully placing the tree near the window, I contemplated other locations that might work. In front of the bathroom door could lead to interesting developments of an unpleasant variety. I also decided the middle of the bed would result in insomnia which would lead to weird posts on the internet at random hours. I also believe that putting a tree in front of my television would probably result in some interesting contortions during television watching. Ah, the joy of the Christmas tree placement issue. At least the angel has it figure out, right?

The last half of the month of nanowrimo has led me to believe that my muse is dead or bored. I am left to believe that my mind is at fault in this matter. After many years dealing with that fickle creature, I have come to realize that it doesn't think linearly. I wonder if it would benefit me to work on three novels at once next year and add up the word count for my nanowrimo. Will I even remember this brilliant idea in twelve blissful months?