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I’ve been wondering lately which is worse: having your own vomit in your mouth or someone else’s. My husband recently had a bit of experience in the latter case, thanks to our lovely daughter, and he reports that your own vomit is better. I hope I never find out.

Why is the most exciting and tantalizing time to be a writer just before you start a new project? Those Who Favor Fire thrilled me with its unique opportunities a few weeks ago. Now I’m struggling with writing a track meet when
a. I’ve never been to a track meet and
b. I don’t actually know what’s supposed to happen there.
This always happens (to me, anyway), but it still annoys me to no end.

I’m also pondering Chris Brown’s temper tantrum on Good Morning America. Apparently he got so angry he tore his shirt off. I’ve never been so angry I wanted to tear my shirt off. Not even close, I don’t think. How angry is that, anyway?

This is a long way of saying that my baby has her first cold and I haven’t gotten enough sleep. You can hope for more profundity tomorrow.

I noticed on Teen Mom today that Kailyn’s linens are leopard print. Leah’s appeared on magazine covers with one of her babies in a leopard print coat. Everything Chelsea buys for Aubree seems to be covered in leopard print.

I think if Rosie goes in for leopard print in her teens, we’ll have a little chat about birth control.

I’m old enough to remember the good old days when MTV just showed music videos. That was fun. “Thriller” just isn’t the same on YouTube. But OMG, am I obsessed with MTV’s documentaries.

It started with one several years ago about people obsessed with their dogs. There was a little doggie wedding, but the bride’s owners left the groom at the altar when they decided the groom was too big for their little pug. It was delightful television–you got to feel superior, and you got to peek into a weird little world. Good stuff!

Of course, nowadays TV is full of reality shows that fulfill the same function. But I don’t actually have access to much TV, living in Switzerland. (Swiss TV simply doesn’t count, I’m afraid.) But the MTV shows still bring it. I’ve seen Pimp My Ride in Norway, Prague, Italy–everywhere. It’s always on in airports, for some reason. I won’t speculate on why.

At the moment I’m obsessed with Teen Mom, I’m sorry to say, and I Used to Be Fat. The Teen Mom thing is technically research–a teen pregnancy plays a role in the book I’m writing, and hey, I write for teens–but also the guiltiest of guilty pleasures. Will Jenelle step up and be a real mom for Jace? Will Chelsea get a clue and ban Adam from her life forever? Will the teenagers watching get the message that condoms are a really, really good thing? I wonder.

I Used to Be Fat is completely different. I started watching that because I am struggling hard with losing my baby weight. People say, “9 months on, 9 months off” as if the weight just creeps down without really trying. And maybe that works for some people. But not me, it seems.

When I watch the show I’m desperate for the teens to lose whatever ridiculous amount they’re planning to lose in three months. These kids work out with a trainer 4 hours a day–with Rosie, I’m lucky to work out 4 hours a week. And they mostly fail, which makes for riveting TV. But then they go off to college and come back even thinner, which is fantastic.

I haven’t had a working TV in my house for more than ten years, so I don’t watch that much TV. Supernatural (which should have way more fans), The Wire, the odd British show with my husband. But my love for MTV is so intense that I would actually consider getting a TV just so I could watch MTV shows when they actually air.

But.

But.

But here in Switzerland, MTV is dubbed into German. Dubbing! Practically everything else on TV is subtitled, but not MTV. My husband says this is because MTV is now TV for idiots. (Full disclosure: back when MTV showed music videos, my husband was in one. He’s biased.)

Anyway, I hope he’s not right, because I WANT MY MTV.

I really hoped to be posting about my abiding love for Pi Day, my best friend’s birthday, or the fact that my baby ate her first fruit today–a pear, if you’re wondering. But instead, I feel like I should talk about Japan.

What is there to say, though? In my experience, expressed condolences mean absolutely jack to someone who is truly grieving. And the scale of the tragedy in Japan looms so vast, virtually any personal tragedy seems trivial in comparison. And, of course, the disaster isn’t over yet. Having personally witnessed the order and sensibility of Japan, it is difficult to imagine that a Japanese nuclear reactors has begun to melt down, though there is every possibility that it will be contained.

When I think of Japan, I think of peace. Not Tokyo’s intensity and chaos, but Kyoto’s temples and woods. Of eating udon noodles in a mall food court, learning how to slurp them properly from the most polite Japanese lady I have ever met. It is one of the most extraordinary places I have ever visited.

The tragedy is unspeakable.

People tell you that everything changes when you have your first child. Wrong! I’m still five foot two, still allergic to dust, and I still hold a grudge like nobody’s business.

That said, some things have changed around here. I write a lot slower than I used to, for one thing, as you may have noticed. Also, if I’m up in the middle of the night, I’m almost certainly not doing anything fun these days. And, unbelievably, last week I sent my mom a photo of poo. Not as a joke, either–I seriously expected my mother to study the photo with me and advise me on it. Seriously.

It would be difficult to quantify how much my life has changed as a result of Rosie’s arrival. It is much more joyful–oh, how I love her little old man laugh!–and much busier. I have a lot less time for hanging out one-on-one with my husband, meeting friends takes the planning equivalent of invading a country, and intellectual activity is a lot harder because a certain someone is addicted to meals at 3:00 AM. Also, I’m tubby, which I DETEST. But not enough to give up chocolate. Hey, I live in Switzerland.

All that to say, my friend Freddielicious had a little baby over the weekend. (Congratulations, Freddie!) I couldn’t be happier for him. I hope he’s not feeling too worried about having a newborn, or, more generally, a baby. It’s not that different from life before. It’s like getting a new roommate, really, though one who is always getting you up at night and expects you to wipe his butt.

This is one of the unexpected pleasures of parenthood--baby naps on your tummy

It’s National Pancake Day, y’all, also known as Shrove Tuesday. Go eat some pancakes!

Sadly, I had no time for pancakes today. I went to Geneva to meet some friends and failed to take any pretty pictures. Sorry about that. Instead, please enjoy this nice, peaceful picture from my summer vacation in Japan. I don’t think they’re that keen on pancakes there, but they do some remarkable things with donuts. If you have the opportunity to try a Mr. Donut green tea cruller, take it!

Note chubby little chins! Delicious!

Hi everyone! I’m not pregnant anymore! Yay! Cute little baby napping in the next room! Blood Red Shoes is done and I’ve started on the next book! It’s called Those Who Favor Fire and I am very excited about it! As I think you can tell!

So there’s lots of new stuff coming to the website, including a trailer for Blood Red Shoes and probably a chapter or two. Now that Baby Rosie is no longer living inside me, I can drink coffee again, so you can expect much more frequent nattering from me. So thanks for staying tuned and I will speak to you again soon!

So. . . I’m pregnant. My husband and I are both very happy about this, though it is interfering with my Blood Red Shoes edits to a remarkable degree. No coffee, no alcohol, no Ritalin–writing without drugs is harder than I imagined. But I still plan to finish in the next couple of months, as having a baby around will probably make writing even harder than living without drugs.

There’s so much more I ought to say, but I need a snack and a nap before I get back to writing. Sigh.

My battle with draft three of Blood Red Shoes continues unabated. I rather desperately wanted to finish by Valentine’s Day but that didn’t happen. My secondary deadline was March 1–too bad. So now I’m wrangling, wrangling, wrangling, and far too busy to write a proper blog post.

I offer instead a couple of pictures, taken within a couple of weeks. One is Ticino, on the Italian border, the other Kandersteg, where I went for a rather disastrous ski trip. For a small country, Switzerland is very diverse, astonishingly various. Sadly, until this book is done, I won’t see very much more of it.

hiking up to the monestary in Locarno

hiking up to the monestary in Locarno

[caption id="attachment_51" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="before the skiing accident"]before the skiing accident[/caption]

that today is Shrove Tuesday in some parts of the world, also known as Pancake Day. So eat some pancakes, y’all!

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