Things to ponder (in no particular order):
1.) On paper, sitting on a wide porch with the breeze in your hair, wearing your bikini and a gauze skirt, and writing in view of the ocean sounds like, inspirational and so romantic. It so totally is not. The wind is windy, the sandy is sandy, and your keyboard gets fucking sticky and your monitor isnt' thrilled either. Just note it. I mean, I am writing, because I'm an obsessed fangirl and this story is sixty two fucking thousand words, which is twenty over what I meant to do with this one and I'm still about 30K from done (God I hope its' only 30K. Don't hold this against me). My betas totally want me dead.
Also, I'm in pajama bottoms and a long sleeve red shirt because breezes are chilly even in August.
2.) I think any food eaten by a body of salt water is "sea food". As I do not like many things that come from the ocean.
3.) We bleached Child's hair. There is a lesson in this.
We bleached Child's hair becuase I've been promising forever we could dye it green for fun. Well, we got manic panic and it totally did not take at all, except a faint olive thing. So I got a bleach kit, did the deed--and Child loves it. It is so hideous. And he's sunburned, and his hair is blond and a weird orangecopper highlight and it clashes. He looks like a surfer gone horribly wrong. He's also boogie-boarding, which just make ti all the more embarrassing. Green. It's like what is wrong with electric lizard green? This is my life. The lesson: do not let your child see the bleached hair before applying teh green dye.
Listening to Jesse McCartney and hating myself less than I did. There is something wrong with that.
(Yes. I am at the beach, on vacation, writing fanfic like it is a disorder. Which you know, it is. I am down with that. Star Trek is not a fandom, it's a lifestyle choice, like flip flops and coffee.)