Today I went to the Laundromat. Had to — the old dryer finally died. I have to admit I hope I don't get another one very soon. Folding clothes among the ladies who speak Spanish was very therapeutic. They are much more balanced and humble then their American counterparts.

When the change machine wouldn't accept my twenty, I went next store to the car wash. The sign above the slot warned that only customers are allowed to use the machine and just before I stuck my money in anyway, I read the small print. Apparently, the change is dispensed in a mixture of coins and tokens so you can't cheat. Big mistake. Now that I'm pissed, I'll go to the other self-service car wash down the street.

Did you hear about the cupcake vending machines featured in the NCT? I hope they are better than the cupcakes at the mall. The place that sold them finally closed down after about a year in business. I'm not surprised. Those cupcakes were gross.

I wonder how long it will take to get the fiction blog set up on the Reader website. Since we are allowed to have more than one blog, I think the editors should try having us create a fiction blog and a diary blog and then try to feed the fiction blogs into one stream. But what do I know? I'm only a woman and a buddhist at that.

The bad thing about blogging after midnight is that I do so because I can't sleep. I've already put the ointment in my eyes and so now it is running down my face. I hate getting old, have I mentioned that? It really sucks. The only good thing about it is that now I'm starting to get somewhere with my writing. At fifty-three, I can't screw around, especially since a speaker (Jane Porter) at my Romance Writers of America meeting said it took her twelve years to get published. I got a laugh when the elderly lady ahead of me turned and with wide eyes said, "I haven't got that much time!"

Bye for now.

M.