sarah · dessen

Speaking of Tivo, I spent most of yesterday in a complete technological frenzy, as my Directv receiver went on the fritz and needed to be replaced. Turns out they're trying to phase out the Tivo technology because they've developed their own, so I had to scramble around to find a new receiver with my beloved Tivo on it. Thus enused a LOOONG trip to Best Buy, where I had to corral no less than three salespeople to answer my questions, followed by a massive indecision attack (complete with panicked phone calls to my husband), after which I finally bit the bullet, bought what I needed, and came home to assume the epic task of setting it up. Now, everything is working fine, but I have had enough of wires, menus and remote controls to last me a lifetime. Still, you should have seen me talking to this one salesman, who, while I was trying to make up my mind, said, "Well, how important is it that you get this working today?" and I said, in total seriousness, "Gilmore Girls is NEW tonight!" Which made the decision that much easier, actually.

Meanwhile, while I'm dealing with the TV issues, my husband is reading. More specifically: he's reading my new book. I started it in October of 2004, finished it May 2005, and have been editing pretty much every since. Which is to say, I have lived and breathed this story for over a year now, which makes it kind of weird that he's only now discovering it. But such is my process, keeping everything secret until the book is pretty much done, even from the person who knows me best. The truth is, he likes to wait until the galleys are out, so he can see the book in as final a state as possible. But I have to say, I HATE when he's reading my book: it makes me a total nervous wreck. I used to forbid him to read them when I was in the room, I got so jumpy, so he had to read when I wasn't here, but now I'm trying to relax and just deal with it.

It's hard, though. I keep looking over at him, wondering what part he's on, and if he laughs I say, "What? What?" Or sometimes I just stare at him, which unnerves him enough to make him look up and tell me to go watch TV and leave him alone. It's a sickness, I swear. But so far, he seems to be enjoying it AND compelled enough to keep going, even when Miami Ink is on, which is a good sign, I think. Or I hope. We shall see, as he's only on page 133 right now. Not that I'm, um, obsessively keeping track or anything.

have a good day, everyone!