September 2015 – The Work of Women

So anyone who has been reading my blog is aware that earlier this year I wrote a book. It’s a memoir about my time as a chicken farmer in Kansas. Ok, so that’s a lie, but it is an actual novel, with words and sentences and characters and stuff, and after writing it I was like, “Huh, I think this is ok. I will try to get it published!”

Then I went online to learn about publishing, and cried because all the articles said, “Oh, you want to get published? Never going to happen – HAHAHA #BYEFELICIA!” And then I was like, well, screw this, I’m gonna try to get a literary agent anyways because I HAVE DREAMS.

I started querying (if you don’t know what that is, thank your lucky stars and move on with your life) and I was this dog:

I was this dog but less adorable. And I didn’t wear a tie.

Publishing is a crazy business, and the more I queried and the more I read about queries online, the more I needed wine and a nap. Then, something miraculous happened – I was referred to a couple of wonderful agencies, and they read my book and wanted to represent me! When I was given this information, I was this guy:

It turns out they were serious, and I said, “Are you aware that I’m a dog who has no idea what she’s doing?” I actually only said that in my brain; outwardly, I pretended like I was confident and also that I am a professional human non-canine who knows things. It was only 20% totally awkward.

Then I had to decide, and I was like, THIS IS AN EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES (FYI: it took me four tries typing “embarrassment” before I got it right; thanks, spellcheck. Yep, I’m a writer.). And then I decided, and now I have an agent, and she is wonderful! I’ve signed with Sharon Pelletier of DGLM, and she’s fantastic and funny and gets my book, but now I’m worried she’s going to see this blog and ask, why did I sign on to represent a dog who has no idea what she’s doing and also lacks opposable thumbs?

I don’t know, Sharon, but you’re stuck with me now. Sorry!

So that’s my writing update. As you might be able to tell, I’m pretty psyched. I’m also scared, because I’m a dog who has no idea what she’s doing. But honestly, aren’t we all that dog at some point in our lives? I think that’s the moral of this blog post, and maybe the Bible, too. Peace!

P.S. A completely unrelated shoutout – Happy 30th Birthday to my girl T of Tears. Sweat. Sea. WE ARE GOING OUT TONIGHT! I know I’m a dog, but I can still drink wine, I promise.

As promised earlier this week, I’m back with my list of the Ten Worst Things about Europe. BE WARNED: THIS LIST CONTAINS PICTURES OF MY LEG AND ANKLE! (This warning is mostly relevant to any of my readers who have traveled in time from the nineteenth century. If you are reading this, sorry for lewd images, and also can I borrow your Tardis?).

10. Getting this bruise:

So I guess it’s kind of hard to see in that picture, but my first afternoon in Paris I was walking along the Rue Montorgueil (or as my non-French-speaking friends called it, the “Rue Mononmont…ugh, whatever”) and it was raining, like, SUPER hard, and I slipped in front of a bunch of skinny, smoking French people, and fell on my knee hard and it hurt like a motha, and the bruise is still there and going strong. MERDE!

9. Rain: This is a continuation of number 10, I guess, but it rained hard three days when I was in Europe and THIS WAS BULLSHIT. Didn’t Europe know that it was me, Jackie, who was coming to visit it? It couldn’t have held off on the rain for, like, one more week out of courtesy? THANKS A LOT, EUROPE. This would never have happened in California.* (On the plus side, I guess Europe does look pretty cool in the rain, see below).

Siena in the rain. Pretty awesome, actually.

8. Air France: Ok, this one isn’t funny and I don’t have a pic, but basically those assholes stole 216 bucks from me and I hate them and am never flying them again. It’s a long story but if you really care you can check out my Twitter from this morning lol.

7. Hangovers: When I was last in Europe, I was twenty years old and could literally club all night and drink endless wine without any repercussions. Now that I am thirty this is most definitely not the case. I paid dearly for this concoction, for instance (but, my God, was it delicious):

6. These shoes:

So...chic? Ugh. — They speak for themselves

So this is also a result of #9 – the evil RAIN. My friend T and I were walking in the rain in Toms shoes to the Louvre, which was ill-advised on many levels, and we had no choice but to stop at a random shoe store and try to find waterproof shoes in our size. Sadly, the only shoes available in my size were these (though T picked up a decent blue/black glittery pair which she threw out – bad decision, T!). Apparently, the French have tiny feet. The worst part was that I had to wear the above shoes with these pants:

The patterns really mesh well, don't you think? — The patterns really mesh well, don’t you think?

Not chic, guys.

5. The number on this scale:

Who am I kidding? I’ve been too afraid to get back on this old horse. No matter how much walking I did, no way it made up for this:

TIRAMISU – I know I put this in the last post but it was SO GOOD.

4. Bugs: The bugs in Europe are surprising vicious. I was attacked by one especially horrid one in the courtyard of the Florence Basilica, leaving me with these scars two whole weeks later:

What I’m really saying is, the bugs in Europe hate Jesus. Yeah, that’s it.

3. Smoking: Look, we Americans may be fat with big feet and cover all of our meals with melted cheese, but at least we’re not constantly inhaling poisonous fumes and blowing them all over other people. I swear, no one in Europe can go twenty seconds without lighting up. I’m kind of allergic, so this is genuinely awful for me.

2. Hot guys: Too many of them. There’s such a thing as an embarrassment of riches, Europe. Though they’re all skinnier than I am, so that helped matters.

1. Paper and Candle Stores: Ok, Europe, what the hell – do you want me to be INCREDIBLY BROKE? YOU HAVE STORES THAT SELL JUST PAPER AND JUST CANDLES EVERYWHERE. Just LOOK at this beautiful effing fan I bought:

It's not ok that it is this beautiful — It’s not ok that it is this beautiful

I spent, like, twenty euros on this fan. When, you may ask, am I ever going to use this fan? NEVER, THAT’S WHEN. But it is so pretty and made of hand-painted paper!

Also, LOOK AT THIS CANDLE:

Welp, there's another 20 Euro down the drain — Welp, there’s another 20 Euro down the drain

It looks like it’s made of glass, AND IT’S A WAX CANDLE. COME ON, ITALY. IS THIS A JOKE? I’M GOING TO LIVE IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER AFTER THIS TRIP.

Don’t get me started on the soap stores. I just didn’t go into them. I would have had to declare bankruptcy if I had.

So, yeah, these are my top ten complaints about Europe. As you might imagine, this was my face when I had to leave:

BUT I DIDN'T BUY ALL THE CANDLES IN EXISTENCE I CAN'T LEAVE YET! — BUT I DIDN’T BUY ALL THE CANDLES IN EXISTENCE I CAN’T LEAVE YET!

Love ya, Europe. Never change! xoxo Jackie

*I am aware that it is actually a bad thing that it never rains in California. I am not making light of the drought, which hopefully will be alleviated by El Niño. Chill out, guys. I care about the environment, GOD.