Checking In

I'm still here! It's been three months since we moved across country with a newborn and three cats, and truthfully, I'm just now starting to recover.

Level of Difficulty: 10,000,000,000

How do you move a baby and three felines 1,000 miles, you ask? With an RV. (And a series of quotes from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, natch.)

Yes, it was full.

Wrigs was disappointed we didn't move him in a customized motorcoach, ala Bret Michaels.

Gabby's first flight. I figured we were in for two hours of ear-torture, payback for years of 'tude toward overwhelmed traveling parents throughout our childless years. But no! She was a perfect angel. Seriously, angelic. (Not unlike the archangel Gabriel, whose name people seem to constantly confuse with Gabrielle...)

 


On that note, I would like to issue a PSA: Gabrielle. Gab-ree-elle. It's not like I named my baby Mratlidaplegey. It's a real name. Did no one watch Xena or Desperate Housewives? Are you not fans of Gabrielle Union or Gabrielle Carteris?

It's Gabrielle. Not Gabriel. Gab. Rhymes with "stab."

The cats love our new house. It's a little bigger than our old one and the floor plan allows them to chase each other in a very Scooby Doo fashion.

My house every night at 3am.

My publisher set me up with a book signing, giving me a chance to finally see Old Town Winchester - which is incredibly cool. And the Winchester Book Gallery is a big part of that coolness. And I got to meet J.P. Sloan, my partner-in-sign. He was also way cool. (Do kids still say cool?)

So that's what you missed. Cats. Baby. Baby. Cats. Cats. Baby. Baby. Oh, and I've put FIFTEEN's sequel, SIXTEEN, into the very capable hands of my literary agent, so stay tuned! And for more timely updates, follow me on Twitter @jenestesdotcom, because it's a lot easier to update in 140 characters or less.