It's 12:47 am and I'm mildly tired but not ready to shut things down yet. I got into the most wonderful routine of reading a book on my phone every night, sometimes for hours, before falling asleep. But this month the book we're reading for our book club my sister owns a paperback hard copy of (you know, like a book with papers) and I couldn't justify paying for a digital copy of it just to have the luxury of reading in bed, in the complete dark when I can read the actual book for free. I'm sort of hating it, reading a real book. Having to turn pages, and find your place when you go back to it, having to use both hands to hold the thing...the worst part, besides the no bedtime reading, is I am a Word Thief. Not to be confused with the Book Thief. No, I steal words, plain and simple. I steal them, and I collect them, and I catalog them away in a gorgeous leather bound journal for later use. I can't tell you how many times I've reached up to tap on a word in the paper book to highlight it and read the definition that pops up. Certainly I could keep the journal next to me as I read and write them straight in there, but, eh...The funny sad thing is that this book, our reading group book, is about a woman who, after getting hit pretty hard with the recession a few years ago, is experiencing the same things her grandparents and great-grandparents did during the depression. She cuts out virtually every frivolous thing in her life and starts living frugally. And here I am whining about having to read actual books, that were, like, so five minutes ago. The irony is not lost on me. But if you think about it, it was my frugality that caused me to choose the free stone age book instead of paying to have it nice and conveniently on my phone. So, points for that, right?

Speaking of buying extravagant "wants" (not needs) when I probably should be making my own croutons out of stale bread and putting on layers of clothes instead of cranking up the heat (which I am natorious for)...I've been typing this entire post with a crazy huge ear-to-ear grin that would probably creep the Joker out. Why? Oh, nothing big. JUST THAT I AM OFFICIALLY A PROUD (giddy, deliriously happy) OWNER OF MY VERY OWN MAC BOOK PRO!!!! seriously, every time I think about it I get flutters in my stomach and I just start smiling like a fool. We researched, price-compared, researched some more, shopped around, and researched some more. Then finally, tonight, after a long and painful drawn-out wait for someone who has less patience than she has the ability to resist taking a nap, it was time. We found the perfect one, at the best price, and hit "buy now". That's it! No going back! Wild horses couldn't drag me back even if I could. No way. I have breathed, ate, slept, dreamed this laptop since I got my first book deal offer last summer. See, the mini laptop that I'm currently working on is Bill's tiny little school laptop that he takes to school. When it's home, that's what I write my book on. Funny thing though, (and by funny I mean putyourfistthroughthescreen infuriating) is it's got this quirky little habit of jumping the cursor to some random paragraph three paragraphs above and decide it would be fun to highlight said paragraph when I go to try and move the cursor back to where I need it, and then...oops! Delete it. Or, two out of three times I try to scroll down the bar on the side, it freezes. Just decides it doesn't feel like budging another millimeter. So I get to shut down my computer while saying a prayer that the auto save happened to catch my last two paragraphs that I'd worked on for a half an hour. So. Much. Fun.

So you can see my desire, my NEED for an amazing, dependable laptop that won't screw around with me for kicks and that will be fast and amazing and silver and pretty! I actually read this in the aforementioned paper book I'm reading: (I couldn't believe it when I read it) "A great computer to a writer is what an arrowhead is to a hunter." Hi, justification! Come on in! Make yourself comfortable. You can have a seat right next to validation and my ugly pet, smugness. Even the writer couldn't get around justifying paying a pretty price for a new laptop for herself. A surgeon couldn't perform without his scalpel, right? I rest my case. Plus, I am using my very first royalties check (eek! It finally came!) to purchase my new toy, so I am turning "business" money right back around into my "business". See? All kinds of justification flying around all up in here.

Wow. It's 2:00 now. And I think I just spent the last hour trashing books, blabbering about stealing words and reading in the dark, Grinning like Joker and going into way more detail about buying a computer than you ever wanted. Hm. Oh well. I promise I'm not drunk. Just high. Don't freak out, it's just a little bit. It's my sleeping pill. Things I've written are already looking a seeming very fuzzy, as is the stuff I'm saying now. Oh what a masterpiece this should turn out to be in the morning.

Ugh...morning. I have to wake up early, actually shower and get dressed and ready to be at my kids' school at 8:30 to help my big Sis out at the book fair. Then I have to go grocery shopping as soon as I'm done there to actually get any form of eat-worthy food in this house, then get Bunco prizes, figure out what to do for dinner for Bunco, and clean my disaster of a house byTuesday evening. I'm beginning to stress out that I won't get everything done.

One last thing, cause I know you're wishing this was over ten minutes ago. Oscars. I can't not talk Oscar for a minute. Colin Firth Best Actor = perfection. Sexy, humble, funny, self-deprecating...seriously doesn't get better than that. Love Natalie Portman, happy for her Best Actress win. Sad that Hailie Stienfeld didn't win best supporting actress cause I LOVED her in True Grit and even more after seeing her sweet princess/ballet tutu dress she wore that was sweet, beautiful, and totally age appropriate. Happy for Christian Bale taking home the best supporting actor, although not so much a fan of the bushy beard. I panicked for a minute that he was going all Joaquin Phoenix on us. And who knew the guy had a strong Welsh accent? I was so blown away! I think every movie I've seen him in he had an American one. Except maybe The Prestige. Yeah, I'm thinking now I have heard it. Anywho, James Franco and Anne Hathaway weren't as painful to watch as I thought they'd be, although I did find myself wondering where James was half the time (Anne was out there almost the entire time, bouncing around stage. When James came on, he always had this goofy, dazed look on his face like he was high and trying not to laugh about it. It's like Anne sucked all the pizzazz right out of him, and he just stood there peeking out from heavy-lidded eyes, baking.

Anyway, I'm really really tired now. I'm going to attempt to go back and read what I've written and if needed, prevent myself from probable humiliation tomorrow.

Leppert. Out.