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Ah, the Saturday morning ritual: me, the dogs, a quiet house, and the first cup of tea of the day.  I did answer one business e-mail that was marked urgent, but other than that I’ll blog , drink hot beverage, and let out that breath that always seems just between my shoulder blades, and just under my ribs, like the whole top of me let’s go.  One of my goals, lately, has been to figure out what makes me relax.  If I’m gonna work this hard, then I need to play just as hard, and more often.  But how to take a workaholic like me and teach her how to play?  The party last weekend was a good start.  In fact, I’ve decided that after every book I should hop on a plane and go visiting.  Because left to my own devices I tend to mope around the house for days, having to get on the airplane and go out of state to some place new and be with friends was just right.  Who knew?  I know, for a fact, if we hadn’t already made the plans weeks before, I would have done my usual, and it would not have made me feel any better, so lesson learned.  I need to visit Wendi and Daven after every book.  Just kidding guys, I’d never presume, but you did show me a different way to distress after a really punishing deadline.  Another benefit of the party and visiting with everyone, is that I’ve been doing more e-mail chatting.  Other friends have tried to lure me into the spirit of e-mail and I have tried, but I’ve actually enjoyed the evil-mail exchange with everyone lately.  This keeps up being fun and I may screw up my courage to get on our forum and talk to you guys directly.  Can’t promise, but yesterday I did think, well, I could do that.  For those who have been reading The Devil’s Panties, you’ve gotten to see Jennie Breeden’s version of the party.  It’s all there, but it’s very interesting watching it filter through a cartoonist’s eye, okay her cartoonist’s eye.  I’ll assume that her art, like mine, would change slightly depending on the artist doing the observing.  Hmm, maybe I could do that.  Yeah, maybe I could write up an on-line version of the party.  Sure, why not.  Of course, the reason I left journalism classes behind was that I could never quite tell the truth on paper.  I would always think, wouldn’t it be more interesting if this, or that, happened instead.  Never mind about me writing on-line about the party.  Knowing me I’d be accurate, accurate, accurate, then it would either go horrible-scary-wrong, or turn into some kind of hedonistic orgy.  (Can you have an orgy that isn’t hedonistic?)  So, in my head the lovely weekend would either end in violence and a blood bath, or in nakedness and debauchery.  Because, I just can’t help myself when I write, I have to push the envelope.  Sigh. 

But thanks to all the extra e-mails I’ve been doing for awhile with everyone, I got today’s Devil’s Panties.  Before I e-mailed with people that did the emotive *sigh* *eye-brow waggle*, I wouldn’t have gotten the joke.  Oh, and Jennie is playing spot the Laurell in her comic strips from the party.  She says, I’m like an Easter egg, and I actually knew what that meant.  Jon’s so proud.  Oh, just in case not everyone that reads this blog does know the term (though sometimes I think I am the last person on the internet to have anything explained to me) Easter egg is a term for a hidden message, image, or clue in a computer program, game, or a regular DVD.  I don’t know if they have them on audio CD’s, I’ll ask Jon.  {jon here: yes, but they’re called "Hidden Tracks"}But that’s what it means, and my little cartoon self is wandering around in Satanic underwear.  I think she actually drew me in a t-shirt that read, "You Don’t Know Me."  So, if you want to see Jon and I as cartoons, now’s your chance.  And if I actually get on our forum and answer questions in cyber-person, you can say, the Devil made me do it.