What price do we pay to get what we have….

What price do we pay to get what we have….

I had to work this holiday. I think it is my fifth year to work on the Fourth of July. But I happened to be working on the 6th floor this year, so when it came time for fireworks, I was happy to be able to peer out of one of the empty patient room windows to see all the fireworks across the horizon. I think that’s the best way to do it. Yes, you don’t get the smell of the sulfur, the loud bang, or the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahhs’ of the crowd, but you also don’t get the mosquitoes, the crowds, or the July heat.
I got to see the fireworks in ways that most people don’t get to see them. I was actually eye level to most of them. Across the city, at least 6 different areas were each shooting off their own fireworks. The closest at 10 blocks away, to the farthest being roughly 10 miles away. It was easy to imagine the people ‘ooohh-ing’ and ‘aah-ing’ and the booming and banging. I did miss that, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
A special thanks to our troops out there who are still fighting.
I think I just screwed myself. We are having an editor/art director day in September and Elizabeth Parisi from Scholastic, Dan Yaccarino, Mallory Kass, and Priscilla Burris are going to be there. Now, the two big wigs, Elizabeth Parisi and Mallory Kass are both from Scholastic. This is a BIG deal as one is an editor and one is an art director. When I was in LA for the writer’s conference last year, I met with Elizabeth Parisi for my portfolio. She gave me some tips, told me what I needed to do differently with my art…now I am going to be meeting with her again for another critique of my portfolio. Great, you might be saying. Well, she’s already seen all of my stuff. I’m going to have to come up with a whole new portfolio in about 2 months. So, last weekend, I wrote a picturebook and I hope to have most of the illustrations done by then…so, wish me luck.
Okay, I am by no means heavy. I’m 5′9″, 150 pounds. Of course I don’t weigh the 130 pounds I weighed in highschool, but I’ve also had three kids, so I thought I was doing okay. Well, then my son springs this on me with all the sincerity of an eleven year old. “Mom you need to diet. You eat too much.” And he appears to be staring at the small pudge that had once housed his tiny little ungrateful body. I’m not stuffing my face when he says this, I’m not lazing around eating bon bons, I’m fixing my other sons hair. So, like any good mother, I gave him the evil eye and grounded him to his room for the night.