Author's Note: Girl Flashback to July 2008 – Rossi's 4th o'July BBQ
When I was blocked last month this was the first thing that came to me. This blessed story that I've not been able to write for like 8 months was the only thing that came to me when I couldn't write anything bizarre how these things go. But anyway, now it's here!
As always with these, it's a stand alone piece, but to place it into Girl, missing day about a week after Chapter 54, "The Lightning Round." And yes, we will be playing that again in here!
PROMPTS ANNOUNCEMENT: Kavi and I thought a nice outlet for frustration over this week's network decisions, was to put up a special bonus. It's called "Girl Power" and it's geared towards Emily and JJ. Please check it out, it's on the TV Prompts forum (Bonus #17) which you can get to from my profile or Kavi's. My intention is to use prompts off the list to write a new Being Emily story AND to tackle the first ever Being JJ story! I'm looking forward to those and I'll try and get them up next week :)
And to the campaigns to save Paget and AJ: Paget tweeted this afternoon that she had a big meeting coming up later in the day, no updates since but she's in a different time zone than me so they could very well still be meeting. And the petition's up to over 32 thousand signatures so hopefully that's a helpful bargaining chip for her to show the fan support for her character! Haven't heard anything on AJ's situation beyond a tweet from JM (he's getting a star on the walk of fame) and he said that he hoped that "ALL of the cast would be there." And as I told Kavi, those caps right there are why I love me some Rossi!
And beyond the petition (again, it's on my profile so please sign it if you haven't done so yet) and the Facebook campaign, Paksiegurlie had another really good idea, she went through her saved copies of last season's eps and wrote down all of their advertisers and she started reaching out to them. She's given me her list (we can thank her for doing all the hard work here) and I'm going to post them at the end of the story. If you do send any of these companies or groups emails telling them that you won't support their products if they're going to support the network's decision to cut the women, just remember to be respectful, you want them to take you seriously!
Back to the story, to the prompt I used, I finally got to use one of my Book titles! It's actually off the new summer set we haven't posted yet but as I picked it I figure I could use it now :) All of the summer ones will be up for general consumption the first of July.
Novel & Short Story Challenge, Summer Prompts
Title: James Patterson
Prompt: 4th of July
Doritos, Potato Salad & Random Acts of Violence
"And did we remember the potato salad?"
"And the Doritos?"
"And," Emily tapped her pen nervously on the list in front of her, "the um, Diet Dr. Pepper? Because you know JJ likes the Diet Dr. Pepper and she's not supposed to be drinking much caffeine so she can't have the Diet Coke."
"Yes," Hotch responded patiently, "I did know that Prentiss. And yes," he hit the directional to turn off the GW Parkway, "we did buy two bottles of Diet Dr. Pepper just for that reason."
This was the second time Emily had run down the list since he'd arrived at her apartment forty-five minutes ago. And though under other circumstances her OCD might be driving him to pull his weapon right about now, at present he was actually just filled with an unusual sense of calm.
And that's because he had decided that this was going to be a good day.
They were on their way to Dave's for a Fourth of July barbecue and the last party that they had gone to at Dave's house had been on Christmas Eve and that had been quite enjoyable. And Hotch felt that given that he and Emily had grown much closer since then . . . and specifically had been spending quite a lot of time together over the last five or six weeks . . . he had high hopes that this party would be better than the last.
Not that those factors alone were enough for him to put aside what would otherwise be normal irritation at somebody asking you the same questions three times in forty-five minutes.
No, the key to his patience on that point was that he knew that Emily was really nervous about forgetting something, and he didn't want to be a jerk and snap at her just for trying to make sure she had a good party.
And make no mistake . . . regardless of the locale . . . this did seem to very much be EMILY'S party.
Somehow . . . Hotch was still a bit baffled by the chain of events . . . Emily had agreed/volunteered/been shanghaied (he wasn't sure of the appropriate verb) into bringing basically EVERYTHING for the damn barbecue!
And then he (by virtue of having already agreed to go with her) had somehow been shanghaied . . . no confusion about the verb there . . . into helping her bring everything for the damn barbecue. So last night after work they'd spent an hour and a half picking up food and supplies at the Safeway by her apartment.
Not unsurprisingly, given that it was a government pay day weekend and twenty-four hour hours before a three day holiday, the place was a madhouse. But Hotch had gritted his teeth, holstered both of his weapons, and somehow they got through the trip without any casualties.
Then of course when they finally got to the register with their overflowing cart(s) (plural), Emily had tried to pay for everything herself. He still had no idea what the hell she was thinking there. Because he of course had just rolled his eyes as he'd pushed fifty bucks into her hand. Fifty bucks which she immediately shoved back into his jacket pocket.
And, well . . . suffice it to say, there was a slight "incident" at the checkout. Unfortunately his zenlike calm had not descended on him until he woke up this morning. And admittedly they had caused a bit of a scene what with the yelling and the exchanging of sarcastic remarks. And unfortunately that had resulted in the store manager coming over to ask if it was going to be necessary for him to call the authorities. So Hotch had to pull his badge as he again gritted his teeth and explained that they were the authorities so no, no it would not be necessary to call anyone.
It was not the kind of moment that was going to get him the 'Agent of the Month' parking spot.
Hotch of course blamed Emily for the whole embarrassing scene. And he was about to tell her that when the manager walked away. But then . . . to his utter astonishment . . . he turned back to see that she was about to open her mouth, AGAIN!
The woman was occasionally as stubborn as a mule . . . but so was he. And he knew that if they started up again that there was no way in hell that they were getting home without having an embarrassing conversation with the local P.D. So he'd put his finger to her lips and told her that if she said one more word that he'd pull out his cuffs and arrest her for harassing a federal agent. As he'd hoped, her mouth had started to quiver before she huffed and finally tucked the folded bill into her pocket.
And yes, dear God, it was an ordeal. But seriously though, like he was going to just STAND there while she paid for a hundred and thirty dollars worth of groceries for a party that he was ALSO attending?
Come on! She'd known him for three years, did she SERIOUSLY think that was going to fly?
By the time they finished shopping/fighting and got back to her apartment it was nearly ten, so they'd left the paper goods, sodas and the chips in his jeep and he helped her get the rest of the bags up to her apartment. He'd foolishly assumed that she was just making a potato salad and they'd bring the rest of the groceries to Rossi's the next day for some sort of communal preparation. But when he'd arrived at her place at noon he'd found that the other supplies had been transformed into a tasty, multi-colored buffet.
There were rows of mini sandwiches (tuna, egg and ham respectively), deviled eggs, three different salads (Greek, tri colored pasta and the expected potato), three different chip dips, a sliced cheese and fruit plate and some kind of dessert made out of layers of chocolate pudding, lady fingers and cool whip.
Though he wasn't much for sweets, Hotch had to admit that whatever the thing in the glass bowl was, it looked really good! Actually everything looked really good. But it was a ridiculous amount of food, so when he'd walked in to see all the trays and salad bowls lined up on the counter for a second he'd almost made a joke.
But then he saw that mixture of pride and nerves on her face as she fixed one rogue toothpick that was out of alignment in the ham sandwiches. Seeing that look . . . and suddenly realizing just how hard she'd worked . . . he didn't have the heart to even give her a good natured ribbing. Instead he'd just flashed a dimple and told her that it all looked delicious.
The smile she gave him in return for the compliment was enough to pop his second dimple out of hiding.
And he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment so he missed his chance to ask her exactly why it was that she'd done as much as she had. She was clearly nervous about forgetting something and he'd been afraid of making her more anxious or self conscious by directing a spotlight on the matter.
So he still didn't know why she was basically catering, but there had been no doubt in Hotch's mind as he'd filled up the back of his jeep that she'd definitely covered everything that needed to be covered for your basic American cook out.
Well, except of course the meats. But Hotch assumed that Dave had those covered at least. At least he hoped he did, after all it was his house for Christ's sake.
Though . . . Hotch shot an amused glance over to Emily sitting next to him . . . if she insisted that they had to stop and pick up a side of brontosaurus he would not be at all surprised.
Seeing his passenger still staring intently at the slip of paper in her hands, Hotch tried to distract her from yet ANOTHER rundown of her party supplies.
Good mood or not, he wasn't sure if he had the patience for another review of Reid's favorite type of pickles or JJ's dietary needs and restrictions. So he shot Emily a quick dimple as he made an overdue observation.
"You look very nice today."
He'd meant to tell her that at the apartment but he'd been sidetracked by the mountains of food. But she did look really good. She had on a bright yellow, above the knee sundress with those little spaghetti strap things, and her hair was pulled back from her face in a barrette that matched the dress.
Overall he was of the opinion, that . . . objectively speaking . . . she looked exceptionally pretty today.
Not that he could come out and actually say THOSE words though. Their little off duty personal friendship had become very important to him . . . and it was moving steadily forward . . . but he wasn't sure if he was ready to be quite so explicitly expressive with his opinions on this topic.
Simply acknowledging aloud his appreciation of her physical appearance was a step for him. That's the kind of thing that in the past he'd have kept to himself unless convention dictated that he say something to her simply to be polite.
This . . . he nodded firmly to himself . . . this was progress.
Emily turned to give Hotch a shy smile, "thanks," she self-consciously ran her hand over the skirt of her sundress as she said softly, "I bought it a couple months ago but I haven't really had any place to wear it yet."
Though she had gone to a couple of cookouts since the weather got hot . . . around here that was generally early May . . . but it was a cheerful dress and honestly, between what had happened in New York and then at the compound, she hadn't been feeling particularly cheerful for most of the spring.
The last few weeks had been better though. She was sure that part of it was just that time was passing. But also . . . she shot a quick glance over to the man at her side . . . part of it was Hotch.
Her deepening friendship with him had been a source of genuine happiness for her. It was distracting her from her other problems, pulling her out of her little funk. And she knew that it had been doing a lot for him as well.
For one thing it wasn't that difficult now for her to coax a real smile out of him. And for another he'd stopped making even a token grumble when she made him stop working and take a break with her.
It was clear that he enjoyed their time together as much as she did.
He was of course still subdued by nature, but it pleased her so much to see that he wasn't quite as sad anymore. Her eyes crinkled as she shot him another quick look . . . he had become a really good friend and it made her happy to see these little changes in him.
As Hotch took another left, Emily realized that they'd turned onto the residential street that led to Dave's cul de sac. It had been six months since she'd last been there and as she peered out the window she realized how different the neighborhood looked now than it had at Christmas.
But of course that was mostly the lack of plastic frostys on the front lawns and creepy red candles in the windows. Now everywhere she looked it was just bright green grass and shrubbery offset by splashes of red, white and blue in both flags and decorative banners hanging from the houses.
Emily bit her lip as her gaze caught sight of the red star hanging in the front window of one of the homes. And then a second later her eyes started to sting as she saw something else . . . a whole slew of yellow ribbons . . . in all different shades, both bright and fading . . . wrapped around an oak tree in front of the same house.
Somebody had been away for a long time.
As many years as the wars went on, seeing those ribbons and stars still made her terribly sad. Or perhaps it was just the number of years that had passed where these rituals were still necessary was what made her sad.
Either way . . . she discreetly wiped the corner of her eye . . . she was grateful for the sunglasses so Hotch wouldn't see her tearing up for no apparent reason in the middle of a perfectly lovely Friday afternoon.
In an effort to distract herself from her unexpected melancholy Emily turned to Hotch and asked a question she'd meant to ask earlier.
"So," she cleared her throat as she tucked her list back into her bag, "have you been to Dave's since Christmas?"
That was a fun night. Well, the time she'd spent with Hotch was fun. And she knew that he had felt the same way, which was probably the only reason that she'd been able to convince him . . . with only six minutes of cajoling which she felt was more out of his habit of saying no than anything else . . . that he should take off the whole day from work and spend it with her at Dave's.
After all, she'd pointed out, it was a federal holiday so he wasn't technically supposed to be working anyway. Though she suspected he might have reneged slightly on his agreement to stay home and had gone into the office for a couple of hours this morning. But if he had, at least he hadn't been late picking her up. And he hadn't set a maximum number of hours of attendance either so she was pretty sure that he was going to try and have a good time today.
"Um," Hotch twisted his jaw as he thought for a second, "yes actually, once. Dave insisted I come over to try his new," Hotch rolled his eyes, "illegal, Cuban cigars."
That was just after the divorce had become final and Dave was up his ass every week to do something. Hotch had finally agreed to come over just to shut him up.
Emily chuckled, "illegal Cubans, I'm surprised you didn't confiscate them and report Dave to OPR."
"Actually," Hotch tipped his head, "I . . ."
But he didn't get to finish his sentence before he was interrupted by Emily's exclamation.
"SHUT UP!" Emily yelled as she smacked his arm, "tell me that you did NOT turn Rossi in to OPR!"
Hotch shot Emily a look as he responded drolly, "well, Prentiss, which do you prefer? That I shut up or I finish my original sentence?"
Ah yes . . . he thought sarcastically . . . one of the unexpected perks to their deepened personal relationship . . . once again having a woman in his life who felt free to tell him to shut up.
Emily rolled her eyes at his dramatics before huffing in exasperation, "just answer the damn question, sir."
She'd passed the point in their relationship where Emily felt the need to tack a sir onto anything to get away with giving him shit. No, now she mostly did it just to bust his balls.
After the little mocking 'sir' Hotch decided to give her another moment before he answered her question. He could screw with her about as easily now as she could screw with him and he could see her getting impatient. He broke his silence right before he knew she was ready to smack him again.
Those girly hits actually hurt!
"I of course did NOT turn Rossi into OPR," he said drily, "I did however remove the cigars from the humidor before I left his house." Hotch's lips twitched as he started telling her the story.
"I waited until he went to the bathroom before I took them, and then the next morning he stormed into my office and . . ." he huffed, "well, let's just say that all seven words you can't say on television were used ten times over."
As Emily started to chuckle Hotch continued, "so I responded quite seriously that they were illegal imports, contraband and that most likely they'd have to be destroyed because he was an FBI agent for Christ's sake and he should have known better than to knowingly violate international trade bans."
That was his payback for Rossi ball busting him into coming over to begin with . . . it was his life, he'd handle it how he saw fit. And then of course when he'd arrived Rossi starting telling him that he knew a hot redhead working in the CO's Office on base.
Like he was going out with one of Dave's side dish tarts! A discarded one no less!
Emily laughed, "what did he do?"
See, now this was the part of Hotch that other people didn't get to see. THIS Hotch was the one that had become her new close friend.
Hotch squinted slightly as he thought back, then he snorted, "told me that if I so much as singed the labels that he'd tell Strauss that I'd confessed to him that I believed that the source of all our difficulties was unrequited sexual tension and now that I was divorced I was planning on declaring my intentions."
He rolled his eyes . . . jackass.
"EWWW!" Emily grimaced, "that's just WRONG!"
Hotch and Strauss, that was just . . . YUCK! Actually, as far as Emily was concerned Strauss was asexual. Though she knew that she had reproduced Emily had decided that was via some sort of cloning technique.
"Yes," Hotch wrinkled his nose distastefully, "that was my response as well."
The frightening thing was, he'd known that Dave was fully capable of carrying out such a threat. And that would have made the rest of Hotch's days . . . post an extremely awkward/mortifying HR sit down . . . just a living hell.
"So what did you do?" Emily asked as she pushed her sunglasses back on her head and turned to look at him in amusement.
Dave and Hotch going mano a mano in a psychological throw down. She'd have given money to have been a fly on the wall to see those poker faces.
"What could I do," he huffed, "I knew it wasn't an idle threat, so I rolled my eyes and told him when he got home to check out the third shelf in his pantry," he shot Emily a look, "that's where I'd hidden them when he was in the bathroom."
Emily grinned, "so you didn't actually take them out of the house?"
"Christ no!" Hotch shook his head vehemently as he shot back in disbelief. "Do you know how valuable those were? He got them as a birthday present from a former girlfriend who had also been a KGB double agent back in the 80s when Dave was sleeping with her. And SHE got them from Castro himself!" Hotch sighed as he shook his head, "trust me, if I'd taken them out of the house and lost them somewhere, having Strauss file a sexual harassment suit against me would have been the least painful measure of retaliation from him."
Though Dave couldn't take Hotch in a physical matchup, there was no doubt that the other man could make him suffer.
And regardless of who had come out on top in that match-up, given the two minutes of abject panic in Rossi's eyes when he'd thought they'd actually been secured as evidence, Hotch still felt the whole endeavor had been more than worth it.
"KGB double agent mistress," Emily huffed, "only Dave could have such a good story to go along with a box of stogies," Then a thought occurred to her and she shook her head in amused bewilderment, "wait, though wasn't Dave married back in the 80s?"
"What's your point?" Hotch asked flatly.
Like a wedding ring had kept his zipper up? When did Emily become so naive?
Then Emily started to chuckle, "so the KGB mistress . . ."
Hotch interrupted, "led directly to the first separation in marriage number two."
Her mouth quivering, Emily's gaze shifted to look out the window to Dave's enormous house just ahead.
"God I love that man."
Rossi's ears perked up as he heard a car in the driveway.
He handed off the tongs to his next door neighbor . . . Stuart had been chomping at the bit to try out Dave's new custom made BBQ pit anyway . . . and headed out of the pit/patio area to go see who had arrived.
Hopefully it was Emily because half of his neighbors had shown up early . . . and given that this whole party had been Emily's idea she'd told him that she'd bring all the food . . . so Dave didn't have much to feed anyone at present besides cocktail olives and maraschino cherries.
He'd just put the first burgers on to cook five minutes ago.
Though he'd been planning a quiet holiday, of course as soon as Emily had asked him, Dave had readily agreed to host a get together. She didn't have a yard so a cookout was a no go at her place and she thought it would be nice . . . after their horrendous spring . . . to get everyone together for a fun day to officially kick off a new season and put the last one behind them.
Dave had wholeheartedly agreed.
But even though it was essentially her party, he wasn't about to let her pay for the whole thing, so he'd tried to give her his credit card to buy supplies.
Of course she wouldn't hear of it though. She said the party was her idea and she didn't feel right taking any of his money to pay for an event that he wouldn't be throwing if not for her.
Dave hadn't been happy about this decision . . . the royalties from his last book alone were more than she made in a year . . . but she'd been insistent. He'd finally bartered her down to letting him buy the meat and rolls because it would be easier to transport thirty pounds of dead cow and chicken straight from the Costco to his refrigerator. She'd reluctantly acknowledged his logic, though she'd still tried to pay for it.
He'd flat out refused her offer of cash with a scowl and a "not a chance in hell Prentiss." So she'd shoved her wallet back into her bag with a huff. Then Dave had waited until she went to the ladies room before he went back and hid a hundred bucks into the back of said wallet safely tucked behind a stack of credit cards that he'd heard her tell JJ she wasn't allowed to touch for the next three months.
So Dave knew that she'd find the cash eventually and she'd never know it came from him. She'd think she tucked it there herself one day and then forgotten. Which was definitely for the best, because Dave was quite sure that she'd serve Mr. Franklin back to him on the toe of her boot if she knew what he'd done.
And as he came around the corner of the house now, Dave grinned at the object of his musings as he saw her filling Hotch's arms with stacks of big yellow Tupperware bowls.
"Does he do windows too Prentiss?" Rossi asked as he walked up behind them, "because you know good help is so hard to find and I've got an upstairs bay that really is a bear to clean."
Hotch shot him a dirty look as Emily spun around, "hey Dave!" Then she started to chuckle when she saw his blue and white checked 'Kiss the Cook' apron with the big red puckered lips on it.
"Wow, this very nice," she pointed at his chest, "both classy, AND patriotic."
"Thank you, but it's not just for show," Dave put his cheek out, "these are house rules."
Emily started to laugh as she leaned up to kiss him.
"Is it just women," she asked as she pulled back with a twinkle in her eye, "or are you expecting a little sugar from Hotch too?"
The two men looked at each other, and when Hotch spotted the smirk forming on Dave's face he shot him an eyebrow, "so help me God Dave if you try it you'll be removing chunks of potato salad from at least three orifices."
That's all he needed today, Rossi planting one on him and having that moment in time captured for all posterity by Emily's cell phone.
She'd probably make it into a Christmas card.
Rossi barked a laugh simultaneous with Emily slapping Hotch's arm, "hey, don't mess up my potato salad! Be a real man and hit him with your fist!"
God, since when did she have to teach him how to fight?
"Really Hotch," Rossi mimicked Emily's tone, "be a real man and hit me with your . . . OW! PRENTISS!"
She'd just slugged him in the ARM!
Hotch's mouth quivered at the punch as he saw Emily shoot Dave a look.
"Hard to believe that after three ex-wives you didn't see that coming." She stated drily.
Apparently forty plus years of practice relationships STILL did not make perfect.
Dave stared at Emily for a moment before he smiled, "you look really pretty today honey. You should wear that color more often."
Though his intended target of mockery was Hotch, obviously Emily thought he was taking a shot at her as well. Of course he was not . . . the woman still had custody of his lunch and Dave was doing nothing to jeopardize it's safe delivery up to the patio . . . but in such a situation it always best to just move past the moment with a well placed suck up.
THAT was what Rossi had learned after three ex-wives!
Emily stared at Dave for a moment before she rolled her eyes at him. Of course Dave then waggled his eyebrows at her in response. She tried keeping a straight face but when he winked at her, her lips started to twitch, and she'd ended up snorting, "nice save Rossi."
Seeing his triumphant grin . . . and Hotch's eyeroll a millisecond later . . . Emily hid her own smile as she turned back to the jeep and pulled out the tray of sandwiches. When she turned around again she held her arms out to Dave.
"Please take these wherever they're going and don't use any of them as weapons along the way."
As an amused Dave took that from her arms, Emily looked back at Hotch, "can you carry anything else right now?"
Just before Dave arrived Emily had piled the three big salad bowls into his arms, but she didn't know if he could take anything else without dropping it.
"If you loop the bags over my wrist," Hotch shifted the salads closer to his chest, "then I can take the soda too."
She frowned at him, "you'll break your arm."
That was six liters of sloshing liquid. Was he nuts?
But then Emily saw the look she was getting and she put up her hands in apology, "okay, okay," she turned to get the soda as she muttered drily, "my apologies for showing concern for your well being. I didn't realize you'd strapped on the titanium appendages today Inspector Gadget."
Sometimes he was so alpha stubborn it was just ridiculous.
Rossi snickered at her comment, then saw both of them shoot him the same glare and immediately jerked his head as he started walking backwards, "I'm just going to bring these around to the patio."
And then he hurried up the driveway before he got assaulted with one of the bottles of soda Emily was wielding like a club.
Emily watched Dave go before she lowered the bottle and turned back to Hotch with a smile.
"It's funny when he runs away."
Hotch's lips twitched slightly before he nodded, "yes it is. Now," he held his wrist out, "let's get moving. I can smell the grill from here and it's making me hungry."
"Okay, okay," Emily put the bottle back in the bag before she slipped it . . . plus ONE more bag . . . onto Hotch's arm. When she saw him about to open his mouth to point out that there was a third bag she shook her head, "no, that's enough. If you snap your wrist then I'm going to have to hire Cub Scouts to feed you and I've spent all my spare cash on this cookout today."
Hotch stared at Emily for a moment before his nose wrinkled in confusion.
"Why Cub Scouts? Why wouldn't you just hire a nurse?" Then Hotch realized the question he'd just asked and shook his head, "scratch that, I can't believe you just sucked me into one of your ridiculous conversations. Now," in an effort to regain his dignity for the moronic question he had just asked, Hotch morphed into chief persona as he started walking up the driveway, "come on," he called back, "I'd like to get this all up there in two trips so put some hustle in it Prentiss."
Emily rolled her eyes as Hotch disappeared the way of Dave.
"Yes dear," she muttered sarcastically as she turned back to the jeep.
Okay . . . she picked up her scrumptious three layered chocolate truffle with the Cointreau soaked lady fingers . . . come on pretty girl.
Emily cradled the dessert close to her chest as she turned to walk up the driveway.
'We're going to a party.'
A/N 2: Again, tried to pull in different threads from the Girl story. For the life of me I cannot remember where it was I wrote that Dave had a 'kiss the cook' apron for this party. But I just remembered that one part so I knew it had to be in here. If anybody recalls where I wrote it, please tell me! For all these worlds, I don't usually forget things and for some reason that's not coming to me, but it's kind of bugging me that I can't remember.
At least one, possibly two more chapters to this little whale of a tail. Originally I was planning on putting this up as one big piece, but once I hit 16,000 words :) it started getting a little cumbersome for proofing purposes. So, though it's done, it's being sliced into manageable bits and most likely I'll still be adding to it as I do the final polish on each set. That's why I don't know if it'll be one or two more.
And yes, I know I need to put up the last chapter of Making Spirits Bright too. But the warm weather was more conducive to writing the summer story than the winter one. I'm working on it though. You probably have noticed that I've been posting a bit more regularly this week, that's not a fluke! Yes, it is fortunate that I'd been plugging away on a bunch of crap for the last 3 weeks, but also, I'm now allowed to work on my real job from home! Let's all say YAY for the wonders of technology and remote access! Do you realize how much time you waste just coming and going from places? It's ridiculous. So for the summer months, I will definitely have much more time to write. Beyond that though, next week I'm moving back down below the Mason Dixon line and once I get settled I will start looking for regular, leave the house in matching shoes and socks everyday work again. Yes, I'm a glutton for punishment but this little remote access thing (though fabulous) is not exactly conducive to actually being a functioning member of society. It's helpful when writing to actually have ongoing life experiences!
Also, it does seem like the type of situation that if you let it go on for years on end and then one day you've got Richard Simmons knocking on your door staging an intervention to put down the Twinkies. So yeah, for those two reasons (my mental and physical well being) I'm only allowing myself a little sliver of this happy 'work at home' life. But let's all enjoy it while it lasts and I'll try to get as much writing crammed in this summer as I can!
CM Season 5 Advertisers in the U.S. - Again, we can thank Paksiegurlie for taking the time to compile the list and being kind enough to share it!
20th Century Fox (advertising A-Team movie)
All State Insurance
Warner Bros (promoting Inception)
Microsoft (Windows 7)
Unilever Foods (several products like Lipton Tea, Hellmanns/Best Foods Mayo)
Chase credit card