Well, hello Magdelena Pensky

I have a new character in my head and I am in love with her. She's strong (of course), a little bit vulnerable and damn funny. She's brutally honest and I absolutely love the way she sees life. There is just one problem. I don't know where she fits in. She's not a member of the other literary families I have floating around on my laptop. At least I don't think so. I need to figure out where she goes. Did I mention that she fights with blades and is a sword master? Oh yeah...she needs a home.

Using the Force in the name of geek girls across the Universe

Today was donned Star Wars Day. And if you've been living under a rock lately and are NOT aware, go here to see why. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't think Katie is someone special. But she puts a face on something that we've all had to deal with. Being teased for being different. My own personal war with 'normal society' and how I don't really fit into it, is a long one. And to be honest, the hardships I've had to endure have made me a stronger person. But I don't have enough fingers to count the time I wish someone would have stood up for me. Because after years of hearing that I was weird and strange, I started to wonder if I really was. Now for anyone that knows me, I am well past those days of worrying about what people think of me. And I sincerely hope that all the 'Katies' of the world find that same confidence. So in support of geek gals everywhere, I wore my best Star Wars gear to work today. AND...Since I am not allowed to wear graphic t-shirts at work and had to wear a sweater over it, I wore my Disney Star Wars Pin for extra measure. And in case you haven't guessed, I'm a little bit in love with Chewy. <3

I speak of my prodigy

As I sit here hacking my lungs right out of my chest, I look to my left and see my son reading.

He is fascinated with the world of Hogwart's School of Wizadry and Magic. He thinks Dumbledore is one of the most amazing wizards of all time. And he thinks Hagrid is super cool just because he's really tall.

Just now a group is performing on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. They start singing "Folsom Prison Blues" and he slowly looks up to watch intently because he LOVES this song. He continues to watch as they drift into a medley of Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis songs. Because who wouldn't love that?

My son has an amazing imagination, a budding passion for reading and story telling, and a love for music that will eventually rival my own.

He wants to wake up at 3am on Black Friday this year, just to get a DS game for $7.99 and then head off to Bob Evan's for breakfast.

I seriously don't think I've ever met a seven year old who has a brain like my son. Of course I am a bit biased I suppose. Either way I am very thankful for my son. He has enriched my life in ways I could have never imagined.

I like to assume that all parents feel this way because thinking anything else is just too sad.

I'm going to stop typing now and play with my son. Because he's bored and he just loves to show off the things he can do.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving...and remember to give thanks every day. Not just on Turkey Thursdays.

GET IN M'BELLY!!

The night of Snuggle and Sneaky Smooches.

Picture it. It's 1999, people are partying like it's...oh wait. Let's start again. Picture it. A dark smoky hick bar; the smell of whiskey and beer fills the air. The music is load and the beer is cheap. Someone is crooning - not so well I might add - off in the corner; trying to follow the words highlighted on the small television screen. They aren't doing a great job. I turn to my cousin Lisa and laugh. But I still clap when they are done. Anyone who has the courage to sing in front of a crowd deserves applause. I checked the clock on the wall. I catch Lisa out of the corner of my eye. She can probably tell I'm nervous and I brush it off so nobody will notice. I'm not very successful. The same people kept coming in. People I'd seen before, coming out to the bar on the corner to sing or watch people sing. It was my turn to sing next and I was worried he'd walk in while I was standing at the microphone. I wanted to make a good impression. 20 or so more minutes passed and it was getting crowded. I was growing more and more nervous and everyone around me could tell too. I was acting wierder than normal. A man walked in to my left. He had piercing blue eyes and dark hair - my weakness - and he was SO cute! He walked around me and I held my breath to see if he would walk up to Lisa. I swear a lifetime passed as he took the two or three steps up to my cousin. He said hi to her and a huge grin appeared on my face. She introduced us. He seemed shy (my other weakness). I internally kicked myself for wearing my Alanis Morrisette concert t-shirt with the paint splotches on it. But he didn't seem to mind. One of my friends got up so he sat down beside me. For the first time since I could remember I was not interested in being the social butterfly. I was on deck to sing again and I was even more nervous now. I didn't want to show off but I wanted to sound good too. I was singing "You Oughta Know". Would he think I was an angry chick? Would he not like me singing a song that has the 'F' word in it? Shit, I added another in there too, would he not like that? Bones called my name and I walked up to sing. I didn't hold back. I can't anyway, it's not in my nature. When I was done I walked back to my seat and he told me I was really good. I don't remember his exact words but I remember he sounded like he was sort of shocked. My cousin and her husband Tracy left around 11pm and she kept asking me if I was going to be okay. I kept reassuring her that I was fine (trying hard not to roll my eyes at her) and they left. We sat together the rest of the night. I have no clue what we talked about but I know we were both smiling. Someone sang a slow song and he asked me to dance. I held his hand and he slowly wrapped his other hand around my waist. I leaned in a bit and noticed he smelled like Snuggle. It made me smile even more. Any man who lived alone (and who wasn't gay) and used fabric softener was someone worth getting to know. We only danced a few times and sat talking the rest. I remember laughing with him and realizing that I wasn't faking it. He smelled good, AND he made me laugh. This was too good to be true. Before we realized it, they were turning on the lights in the bar and kicking us out. He asked me if he could call me and I said yes. So we quickly wrote each others' numbers down on the back of a paper place-mat. It was cold out but we walked slowly to my car. I offered to drive him down to his truck since he was parked at the other end of the lot. But he kindly refused. We talked for a minute or two more and then he hugged me goodbye. And somehow slowly slipped his head around to gently kiss me. NOBODY had ever done that before and I was literally stunned. He said a quick 'talk to you later' and ran off to his truck. I watched him the entire way; a grin on my face. That was the night we met, 12 years ago today. I never imagined our paths would take us to where we are now. But on that night I was smitten. I still remember exactly what he was wearing and how his eyes drew me in. To this day, when I smell Snuggle it reminds me of that night. Wonder where we'll be 12 years from now?

Knowing isn't half the battle, it just makes you aware.

I have been living a lie. There; I said it. Doesn't change anything.

Signs?

I wonder if she noticed that not only did we spot the same things at the same time, but we finished each others' sentences. I did.

To the greatest woman who ever lived.

I think about you every day. Perhaps someone will mention their mother, and your face pops into my mind. Maybe someone will mention home-made food and I'll remember watching you in the kitchen. Reading your own mother's spiral notebook full of handwritten recipes with measurements like 'dash' and 'pinch'. Or I'll smell Chanel No5 and breathe deep. When something amazing happens to me or my son, I still want to pick up the phone and call you. I want to send you pictures of him so you can see how big he is getting, and tell you about how good he does in school. When life is closing in on me, I want to sit with you and play Yahtzee. I want to roll away my cares as we sit in silence. I never had to tell you about my problems in order to feel better. Sitting in your presence was enough. I know it's silly to think that you would be around until I got old. But my heart doesn't care. I miss you. Can you hear me, Nan? I love you.

My brain is overloaded with awesomeness

I'd like to welcome you to the kingdom of Ronk. Here in Ronk, everyone is fabulous. Here in Ronk, you are free to be whoever you are without fear of riducule or judgment. Here in Ronk, we love each other freely, and live by the rules of a true community. So romp as you wish, and smile til it hurts. Just remember to not stare directly at your Queen and Queen for their awesomeness will surely melt your eyeballs back into the depths of your brain.* Have a fucktastic day. *Your Queen and Queen do not intend harm upon it's subjects. Their awesomeness is a curse that they are more than happy to burden themselves with in order to make their kingdom fantastically, unbafuckinglievable. *UPDATE*: The former Queen has decided that being a King would much more fun. So with a wave of the Royal Magic Wand *poof*, it is so. *UPDATE #2*: For those of you who have questioned what defines the kingdom of Ronk I leave you with this fact Ronk: Another term for masturbation. Comes from Norway. It can also be used as a term for vandalism. 1. I need to go home and have a good ronk. 2. I caught that mofo ronking in my soup! 3. On Friday, we're going to get drunk and ronk on the library! (Hey, I found it on the internet so it MUST be true!)

Truth hurts

I'm the most famous person I know.

Me

I am not skinny. I don't have clear skin. I don't have smooth legs. I don't have super white teeth. I don't have designer clothes. I don't have a boyfriend. I don't own a home. I don't have perfect eyesight. I don't have nice breath in the morning. I don't have the same sized breasts. I don't always have manners. I don't always wear a smile. I don't play emotional games. I don't always know what I want. I don't get manicures. I don't get pedicures. I don't always use a tissue. I don't care. I am beautiful.

Sometimes, it overtakes my brain

I find inspiration in many places. One of my most FAVORITE new places to find nifty projects to tackle is EPBOT. Jen never ceases to amaze me with her geeky girly great stuff. I usually catalogue these ideas in my head for a later date, but sometimes...

Sometimes something hits me like a Mac truck and I just HAVE to drop everything and do it.

Like tonight...I had the idea for one project and within minutes another crept into the crevices of my brain and I stopped what I was doing and grabbed my craft supplies.

Here is what inspired the initial project:

Before this they were just in ivory mats, BORING. Here's a closer look at each one.

The color on the background paper is a bit more vibrant but the lighting in my house sucks so this is as good as it gets.

Simple scrapbook paper cut down to fit a frame that I already had (had the paper too!) SWEET!

And here is the other project that took over my brain tonight...

I love that it encapsulates both my love of all things weird AND girly.

The middle pic is the top of a card. I bought a pack of blank cards at the dollar store just for ONE use. Now I have 9 cards left over so if you ever get one in the mail, don't be surprised...LOL

The two end pics are actually promo cards that I picked up at HorrorFind. I added a strip of cardstock to cover most of the actual advertisement and then just popped 'em in there.

Cool huh?

And I already had the frame too....double sweet!

Speaking of cool...here are two prints that I picked up at HorrorFind, finally framed.

Both prints are from Grendel's Den. I bought both frames at Michael's (on sale...BOOYAH!) and the mat in the white framed pic, as well.

I haven't hung the last two yet 'cause I ran out of nails! Guess I'll be stopping at Lowe's soon.

So...how do you decorate your walls?

Geeking out...

Dragon*Con tickets went on sale this weekend. I am so excited I could scream! Tomorrow I'll be calling the hotels to see if I can book a room this far in advance, then to purchase my membership for all four days. I haven't decided yet if I'm flying down or driving. I don't think I'll need my car once I'm there and I think most of the hotels charge to park your car there (weirdest thing ever!!) But it would be nice to not have to worry about taking a cab to and from the airport, and to be able to pack a small cooler. Plus I'm not a huge fan of flying in general...gives me a headache. I thought of checking into a train, but I have a little bit of time for that. The next Dragon*Con is Sept 2011. I'm a little hesitant to go myself...but just a little. I REALLY want to go. REALLY!!! And I know that none of my friends would want to go with me so it's no use in asking. Hell I could count on one hand the number of my friends who have even heard of Dragon*Con. Scary isn't it? So off I go, planning the trip of my life-time, alone. And I couldn't be happier. <3

More good things...

Finding new art PB Cookies with chocolate on top Rutter's Tea Chaske Spencer Butterflies Beth Hart Accents Driving with the windows down Pink sneaks Sarah Call First kisses HOLLA (still funny) Share your good things...

It's about time

I'm glad you're happy. Really, I am. I could see the change in you even before you spoke it aloud. I've always known you better than you know yourself. That's the curse that comes with being observant, and the Queen of 'attention-to-detail'. I suppose in a way I'm finally starting to move on too. Anger that I've been holding on to for so long, seems easier to let go of now. I don't want to be the bitter ex-wife or worse yet, the vengful ex-wife. I might not be quite ready to be your friend again, but I don't want to be your enemy. I'm sorry that I wasn't what made you the happiest. Well not so much sorry; I'm sad. You made me happy. I'm sorry our timing wasn't what it could have been. Perhaps one day I'll be able to let go of the sadness too.

I really do love people. Kind of. A little. Meh.

As much as I hate to admit it, there are 3 people in my life that probably know my day-to-day moods more than anyone on the planet. Chris Barbara Debbie My co-horts at work. They, more than anyone have had to deal with my overly crabby, removed, disorganized self that was born from the 'losing-my-dreams-of-a-family-heart-torn-apart debacle' that used to be my life. It's not like my general disdain for the human race is any secret. But I honestly try very hard not to take it out on the people around me. The people that are forced to be near me, the people who ring up my purchases, my neighbors (although if I actually got a 'hi' out of one of them I'd probably fall over), don't face the wrath of my anger. They might notice I'm not the friendliest person they've ever crossed paths with, but I don't lash out at them. Well for whatever reason, 'call it fate, call it karma'* my mood has changed. It started the weekend before last. I don't know why but I just feel better. There was no discernable turning point, I think I just noticed it. But nobody else has. The surprising part is that the three people who know me best not only didn't notice; but when my mood was casually mentioned (by someone else) they made it clear they saw no difference. ! I suppose seeing these changes in myself is going to have to be enough, since nobody else seems to notice. *geeks points if you know where this quote is from! *UPDATE: Yes, I'd like a little cheese with my wine. :)

The Good Things

Cool breezes Sara Bareilles Baked Doritos Dollar Store Wednesdays Getting back in touch with old friends Chris Keller Stories New coffee flavors at work Crickets' songs Full Moon Guilty Pleasures Epbot A good book Gettin frisky in the lunch room Wil Rutter's Tea Science Fiction New life (Congratulations Kelly!!) The Guild What are your good things?

Horror Cherry Busted

As some of you already know, I busted my Horror Convention cherry labor day weekend at the HorrorFind 12 Convention in Gettysburg, Pa. It was definitely a unique experience and here is some of the action I caught while I was there! Scary Man #1...c'mon, just one hug? What's really funny is that this guy was really very nice and posed for everyone who asked! This guy totally freaked me the fuck out. He kept sticking his tongue out of the tiny hole in his mask. Total points for scary...but I was having none of it! Caught a couple 'room' photos and Jake Busey stuck his face in there. (Okay I totally stalkerized him here) And Dee Wallace. She seemed so genuinly nice and took time to talk to everyone that happened by her table. Honestly the pics of her and Jake were taken from further away, but I cropped them to make it look like I was standing 3 feet away. Not stalker-like aaaaaaaaaat all. There was a steampunk table there too (the only one I saw that seemed to truly represent). They were selling jewelry, clothing, weaponry...and it was all so AWESOME! I'm not a fan of decorating or dressing in steampunk but I loves looking at it. The details can be truly amazing and I love the beauty and art of it all. Here's a pic of the lovely lady running the booth. I didn't manage to get a pic of the dapper gentleman running it with her. Every time I tried I couldn't even step back a foot.

A true pro...she saw my camera, briefly stopped her discussion and posed. In my opinion, one of the finest pieces being sold. Amazing.

There were a lot of celebrities there, the coolest and most famous of which was George Ramero. But honestly I wasn't feeling the 90+ minute wait.

There were two celebs that totally made my weekend though....

My splurge. I spent $20.00 just to snap a photo of Mr. Gary Busey and myself. He seemed nice but not really 'there' if you know what I mean. S'cool though.

And my all time highlight of this weekend?

Meeing my newest favorite author and discovering that he is indeed...one cool mother fucker.

Me with Brian Keene. Thank you Joe, for snapping this photo since all my friends are super lame and decided that staying home with their families would be more fun than hanging out with me.

SUCKS TO BE YOU!!

All in all I had a decent time. I attended a few panels and readings which were superbly awesome. Discovered a few new authors which is always good. Kelly Owen, Rio Youers, Jack Ketchum (missed his reading, dammit!), Mary SanGiovanni, and Norman Prentiss. The hotel Wyndam seemed completely unprepared and thus led to some confined situations. However most of the people that I struck up conversations with were very nice.

I even spotted some sci-fi/geek lovelies in my many walk-abouts.

Check out this chicks Chewey!! So...to sum up. Would I go back? Not sure. I was mostly drawn in my the literary attractions but some of the films I caught at the filmfest were not too bad!

Perhaps if I had someone to keep me company, there would have been more debauchery to be had. But getting drunk and having a real good time on my own just makes me look like a freak.

Oh wait....

Happy Almost Birthday

The line was faint but it was there. My heart burst with love in a way I never thought possible. I was in the bathroom at work...no I couldn't wait until I got home. And I laughed at my own impatience.  I cleaned myself up, and ran to my phone to call your daddy. He, of course, was thrilled. He also laughed at my impatience.
I began to wonder if you were a boy or girl, what you would look like, how my life was going to change. I couldn't stop smiling. People were starting to look at me funny. I told my boss and one of my co-workers. They hugged me quietly. I wasn't ready to tell everyone just yet.
But I already had a name for you...Mushpea. I kept thinking that you were no bigger than a mushed pea.
That night I stopped off for a blood test...just to be sure! The next day my little faint line was given a blood positive. I felt relieved, like I wasn't sure about having to squint to see the results on my 'home/work' test.
It was right before Christmas but we didn't wait to tell our friends and family. We called everyone we knew and practically had to stop ourselves from screaming with joy. If nothing else, you were wanted.
You were due August 23rd, 2002.
Christmas Day.
I woke at 5:00 am with horrible cramps.
For a few moments I forgot. I was disoriented from sleep. I walked to the bathroom thinking that maybe I ate something that didn't agree with me.
Blood.
I screamed for your daddy. He leaped from the bed, not knowing what to expect.
I couldn't say anything, I just showed him the evidence in my underwear.
He asked me what to do, and I snapped back to reality. I asked him for the phone to call the doctor. She asked me a few standard questions and after a few minutes, said the words I feared.
I probably miscarried.
I was only about 5-7 weeks along. There was nothing they could do.
But she asked me to stop in for a few blood tests, to be sure that I wasn't pregnant with twins and had lost one. I knew before the phone call the following week what that answer would be. We went back to bed and I cried myself back to sleep.
We woke up and opened presents. It was our first Christmas as a married couple.
I had made a card for your Daddy, from you.
Our little mushpea. He cried.
He had bought me a Charming Tail's figurine. A mama holding a baby, rocking in a chair. I cried.
Your Pappy and Grandma had bought us a few things for you. A few clothes, a teething ring and a beautiful, soft, yellow blanket. Your other grandma sent your daddy and I a cute ornament with a pregnant mama bear standing with a daddy bear.
We couldn't tell them. Not yet.
The worst part?
Telling everyone that you were gone. I felt like such a liar.
I know it's silly, but that's how it felt to me.
Your daddy didn't really know what to do or say, but I know he was hurt.
If I could, I would thank you for your sacrifce.
Today, I have a wonderful little man in my life. His name is Ryan. He knows about you.
Every Christmas I still put that pregnant mama bear ornament on the tree. Even though your daddy and I aren't together anymore.
Last year Ryan asked me why I was crying as I hung it. I told him I missed you. And he told me he was sorry that my baby died.
He would have made such a great little brother.
Happy Almost Birthday Mushpea.
I love you.

My best friend

I love music. Music comforts me when I'm sad. Music envelopes me when I am cold. Music makes me dance when I am happy. Music will never abandon me. Music will never betray me. Music will always love me. These are laws. Whether it be The Highwaymen, Beth Hart, Sara Bareilles, or some random new artist I happen upon; music is...everywhere. I sing because I honor, I play because I admire, I live it because it is me.

Freaky silly funny and sexy...

A little to the left, please.

My life is separated into specific phases. Phase 1: Super shy, backward, introverted loser. Phase 2: Bubbly, make everyone laugh even when you are in pain, and don't forget to let people walk all over you. Phase 3: Tired of people treating me like shit so I'm taking the world by storm with my thoughts. Phase 4: Bad-ass. Phase 5: Super happy in love, sharing my world with one man. Phase 6: Mom Phase 7: Get fucked over and become bitter bitch from hell. Phase 8: Lost That's me now. And it sucks so bad that it feels like I'll be in this phase for the rest of my life. Part of me is hopeful that it won't last. I've been through bad times before and it always got better, so this shouldn't be any different. But this feels different. I feel wrong; backward or inside-out. It's like everyone is clear, but I'm fuzzy. And no matter how I adjust the rabbit ears, I can't seem to bring myself into focus.

A not really genuine thank you...

Thirty-seven years ago, yesterday, a miracle happened. A man and a woman rejoiced at the birth of their baby girl. Me. I was an average 7lbs. 20" long. I had the minimal light brown hair, and big dark brown eyes. My future looked bright. Until one day I realized that this world isn't full of magic and fairy dust. Unicorns aren't real and my parents were. At some point in my life my father moved away and my mother moved on, without me. I was lucky to have a grandmother who loved me more than her life and she took it upon herself to care for me. She clothed me, fed me, and taught me right from wrong. There were some things she didn't know how to teach me. Like how to heal from a broken heart, how to pick up the pieces when life fucks me up the ass, and how to feel sane in a world that is inevitably crazy. A world where my mother forgets my birthday. No card, no call, no 'fuck off kid'. Nothing. How can a woman squeeze a child from her womb and forget the day? And at what point during these 37 years did I go from the fun-loving-girl-everyone-loves to the bitter, depressed loner who spends her birthdays holed up in her crappy townhome? Not completely holed up. I did go out to Borders and bought myself two new horror books. Which I will read while holed up in my crappy townhome, in the near future. I also stopped at A.C. Moore to pick up some sewing supplies for a new project I'm working on, at home, alone. After my two birthday day trips, I walked down to get my mail. The best thing in there? Sherlock Holmes, from Netflix. Birthday cards? None. Thanks mom.

Really?

NOW? Now you want to do things right? Are you fucking serious? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? I'm not sure whether to cry or scream. Well I suppose I've done enough of both so maybe it's time to try something new. How about murder? It was supposed to be ME that you tried to do right by. It was supposed to ME that you treated the right way. I'm not supposed to be meeting the girlfriend that might bring out the good man you used to be; the man I inspired you to be. You were supposed to get this stupid mid-life crap out of your system and come crawling back to me! ME! The woman who made you the happiest you've ever been. The woman who still.... forget it. fuck you and you're 'doing it right' shit.

I'm not gay, but I'm in love with Sara

I love it!

From the Ashes

For Valerie, and me

The Power of a Compliment

It's no secret that I am different, weird, unusual, odd...whatever you want to call it. And it's also no secret that this fact mostly doesn't bother me. I take pride in the fact that I am not a folllower; that I dance to beat of my own drum. But what most people might not know is that there is a teeny tiny part of me that knows, what sets me apart from others is also what makes me feel lonely. It's not easy for me to meet people who 'get me'. Sure they think I'm funny, or think I'm cool because I can shrug off others' cross-eyed looks. All of that is great. But I've spent a life-time trying to find people who I can truly connect with. Although I have crossed paths with a few kindred spirits, it has not been easy. And over the last few years it's been less easy. I've lost friends, loved ones, and a part of myself that made me feel special. I've been fighting through tears and lonliness to get that back. And something happened the other day that pushed me weeks ahead of schedule, maybe even months! Someone gave me a compliment. The words were simple; there was no sweeping background music swelling to the point of tears. Just a simple..."I like you" Someone who I considered an acquaintance told me they liked me. That they liked my sense of humor, that I 'get it'. I smiled, thanked this person and went back to work. But like the Grinch, my heart swelled immensely. I had forgotten, in my search for kindreds, that there may be others out there searching for the same thing I am. For someone to understand them, laugh with them and maybe be their friend along the way. Now I don't know for sure if this person falls into that category, but somehow, knowing that I'm not alone makes me feel less...lonely. Which is pretty fucking awesome, if you ask me. And just in case that certain person is reading this... "Thank you, you rock, and I really do think I have super powers!"

Music I Love

The people who are lucky enough to know me, know that music is very important to me. I love it all! So I wanted to share my newest, awesomest find. The Twilight Saga: Eclipse Soundtrack. So far my favoritest songs are: Heavy In Your Arms by Florence and the Machine My Love by Sia Chop and Change by The Black Keys Let's Get Lost by Bat for Lashes w/ Beck The Line by Battles The rest of it is really good too...but I tend to focus in on certain songs first. I've been listening to it at work and in the car so it won't be long before I know all the words. Check it out!

Personality Disorder

I just came back from a week off of work. It felt great. Even though I was starting to feel a bit cramped. I'm not used to having visitors let alone people staying at my house. But I made it through and managed to have some honest to goodness fun. Come Monday morning I felt refreshed and rested, in a good mood even. Of course it didn't take long for the 'powers-that-be' to start hammering away at my better mood. Stabbing me in the face with their "get it done's" and "work smarter not harder's"...bastards. So I'm thinking that instead of just being the angry chick, it's time to tweak my personality. Think Debra Morgan (Dexter) and Sue Sylvester (GLEE) I can become a cheerleading coach and call students 'douche' and shit. Yeah...life will be much sweeter once I embrace the new me.

Plans a'brewin

I need to learn HTML. I can't tell you why, yet. But I promise it will be huge, epic even. Maybe even Fucking Awesome! So what is the best way to learn without taking advantage of a sexy geek? (*side note: Yes, there can be sexy geeks. So let's just move on without you snickering, okay?) Seriously people. This will be AMAZING! So it might behoove you to hop on the Plonk gravy train now. Before you look like a sad sheep following the herd, trying to catch a ride on my coat-tails.

The Miracles of Modern Medicine

I have a co-worker who has been ill. She never talked about it at all, until about a year ago when she accidentally let it slip that she 'might be dying.' I didn't feel bad for her; I didn't cry for her. I didn't ask her a bunch of questions like, "How are you feeling today?" and "What's new on the chemo front?". Her and I have had always had our issues. We are both stubborn and opinionated so that doesn't always make for a good combination. But that's not why I let her be. I didn't bug her, or talk about her to others because she didn't want anyone to. She made it very clear that she didn't want to be treated differently. So that is what I did. Truth be told, I've always respected her. I LIKE debating with her because she challenges me. So I am very happy to report that as of last week, she has been given a clean bill of health!! No more cancer! YES! I can not say enough just how happy I am for her. More importantly, the next time she annoys the shit out of me, I'll have a huge smile on my face. Because I've been given a gift as well. Time.

Beware the germs

I absolutely hate being sick. Some people might get off on the stuffiness, the drippiness, and the music of hacking up a lung. But not me. I loathe having my taste buds hijacked so that the only thing that tastes good anymore is water. Blech. The only thing I have to look forward to, besides feeling better, is the sweet haze that Tylenol Night-time Warming Cold medicine will inevitably bestow upon me tonight. Sweet Dreams.

I love my friends

Damn you Crystal for calling me out! :) Papers are being filled out and I'll be demanding 'his' input this week. It's time. Actually it's WAY past time. Shhh You hear that? That's the wind of change...

One minute, then the next, then the next...

You know that old lady who lives down the street? The one who's house all the kids avoid unless triple dog dared to approach. The lady who owns 30+ cats. The lady who sits at her window and gives the stank eye to everyone who walks by. The lady who probably had her heart broken into a million pieces and was afraid to let anyone near her again because the fear of getting hurt again out-weighed the fear of living the rest of her life alone? I'm trying really hard not to be like her.

Anyone there?

Seriously...does anyone read this crap? I know I don't. :)

The Sharing of Creativity

Some of you may know that I've been working on a novel. Actually I've been working on several at one time. I can't help it. I get these awesome ideas and I have to at least get something down or I will forget them. And that would just be a waste. One of them is actually a fan-fiction based on the Twilight characters. That one is just for me (and of course Miss Becky) and will never, ever be published. It's more like a place that I can escape to when I'm in need of a vacation. I love spending time with those characters and they always make me feel refreshed and re-energized when I visit. Another one is a a lovely story of strength and adversity through love and understanding. I can not say enough how in love with these characters I am. There are three main characters and all of them have something to learn about themselves, and more importantly they have so much to give to one another. I don't want to give too much away, but Valerie, Jack and Kate feel like family to me. I can't wait to complete this story and share it with the world. The other two I'm working on feel more like television shows to me, and I'm rethinking how I want to share them. Let's back up a step. When I'm creating a story on paper it usually starts with one idea. That idea plays out like a scene, in my head. I'll see the characters interacting physically and emotionally. I might not see exactly what they look like but I can tell who is male and female, and get the general basics of their personalities. Things do change as the story progresses, but it all starts with that one scene. Now that scene is not always in the beginning of the story so I have to build around it. For example: The fan fiction that I'm writing actually started with an idea that is chapter 4. It started off as a day-dream that I kept having while I should have been paying attention during daily meetings. It bothered me so much that I HAD to write it down. After that I jumped back and forth between other ideas until finally they all met together and I'm moving forward from here on out. Basically the entire story is in my head and I just have to type it all out. Now, when I think of these last two stories I'm talking about, they started off the same way, with one scene. However, I don't see it laid out in one flat story. I see several, for each. So it feels more like a series than just one novel. For me to release it that way, I don't think I would make any money, and I feel like I'd lose my audience too quickly. So I'm rethinking how I want to share them. Blogging! Sort of. Instead of writing about my life and thoughts, I would like to release a chapter every so often. I don't want to charge people; I want this to be free. I think it would be a great way to introduce people to me as a writer. I can create a fan base (even if that is only a few friends and family) before I even publish my other works. There is only one problem that I'm not sure how to handle. I want this to remain my work. And the internet is a breeding ground for stealing and 'borrowing' other peoples' work. So how do I protect the work so that others can't copy and paste it for their very own? So until I figure that out... All this and I'm starting my search for my first house. !! Yeah, I'd rather write.

Snow and Love just don't mix...

This is what it looked like outside of my door around 11:00am Wednesday morning. Good Times. What made this worse is...this is what it looked like outside of my door Tuesday morning... Yeah, like we needed more snow. I like my Aunt Denise's idea of bottling it up and selling it for a fortune come summer when we are faced with drought like conditions. It snowed all day Wednesday into the night. And today the sun was shining! Weird huh? But somehow, I almost lost my door.... And thanks to being stuck in the house for way too long, a tiny piece of my son has died. Actually I think he's fairly content to stay indoors. He's been in the same pajamas since Tuesday night and it was all I could to get him to come near the door to bring me the camera. I thought maybe his skin would burst into flames if the sun hit it. I love my son...he has quite the imagination. And I love that he can keep himself occupied with no more than a few Star Wars figures, a paper towel tube and a collapsed canvas tote. Seriously, he's like the McGyver of kids. But sometimes I just wanna kick him in the ass and say, "Go outside and play." After all mommy needs time to herself. You know, to eat raw cookie dough and drink wine with my imaginary boyfriend. (Who is totally smoking hot and already gets along with my son and ex, without all the weirdness) Have I mentioned that I hate Valentine's Day? (Nice segway Jennifer) Seriously, I hate feeling left out just because I don't have a real boyfriend. And as much as I love my imaginary one, I don't want to embarrass him by taking him out in public where nobody can see or hear him. That wouldn't be very nice of me. Although I must admit, seeing him a suit would make me tremble at the thought of ripping it off. But the aftermath of that might scar some people. Imagine watching a hot woman humping the air. Go on...imagine it. Yeah, I'll leave you with that visual. And you're welcome. Now leave me alone while I corrupt my child with all things science fiction and chocolate.

Cue the violin solo please

I had this amazing, wonderful, funny, witty post in the works yesterday. Ryan was being super patient with mommy as she had "her time". (In other words, my crap was boring so he was playing his DS" Anyway....I had this awesome blog post ALMOST done when I hit one of my stupid keyboard shortcuts and the fucking page closed, WITHOUT ASKING ME TO SAVE. Gone Dust in the wind gone Fuck But I don't think anybody reads this anyway. *shrug* I'm done whining. Off to watch more "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?".

If there were a hell, I'd have a first class ticket...The lost post

I am a complete geek, yet somehow I don't even know how to use this blog. But thankfully there are very helpful peeps out there who are willing to help a sista out, without making said sista feel like a spaz. Thank you so much Miss Veggie. You're decoder ring is in the mail...oh and you friggin rock! This post might be old but I still want to share. Mostly because I'm a complete narcisist (who possibly can't spell the word), and partially because the only friends I have are the one's on-line (not counting my imaginary friends, of course) So without further adieu... On the weekends, I like to sleep in. And I encourage the same behavior from my son when he is with me. We stay up late on Friday and watch television together and when he starts to get super cranky, I send him off to bed. Usually he starts to fade around 9pm but there is the rare occasion when he can last a bit longer. That was this past Friday. We stayed up and watched Criminal Minds together. Now before I hear your lecture let me just say that watching this show together has opened up conversations about bad guys, what to do if a bad guy/girl tries to take him, bullies, and has even spawned conversations about the miracle of make-up and technology to make things look real. So please don't send me hate mail about how I'm corrupting my child with television that is too violent for him. And yes, I do still cover his eyes during certain parts of the show. He conked out on me around 10:30 so I held him until the show was over and snuck him into bed 'round 11pm. Next morning, all was fine with the world. He slept in until 8ish and was very patient with him mommy as she drank her mimosa and attempted to wake up without the cocaine. (Okay that's only partially true...I don't like orange juice) We ate breakfast, chilled for a bit watching some Saturday morning cartoons and I watched him play Star Wars while I fed my peeps in Cafe World on Facebook. When I couldn't stand the stench of my own body anymore I hit the shower. Suddenly Ryan ran in and proclaimed that his throat was super dry!! I assumed it was due to the heat being turned up 'cause of the butt crack, colder-n-a-witches-tit temperatures outside. I assured him he wouldn't die and that I would bring him some water in about 5 minutes. Apparently I had only seconds more left before he turned to dust before my very eyes, because he drank it so fast I didn't have time to blink! Well it all went downhill from there. Pain, crying, fever, non-working Tylenol, resorting to calling the ex to bring me some Motrin to see if that would work. A few phone calls later, and a promise of sexual favors to the doc that had to come in on a Sunday we got the verdict. Not only a nasty ear infection, but his eardrum burst. Um, yeah. My poor guy's eardrum is bursting and what do I do? Offer him a hug. Seriously? Is this my bad mother's care-giving skills rubbing off on me? I mean I knew it was worse than it had ever been, but I didn't feel it was 'ER' worthy, ya know? The doc totally assured me that this happens a lot and not to worry. But he also had that gleam in his eye knowing full well that "I owed him." Bastard.

Hymens can SO grow back!

I used to be a woman that people looked at. Many times I've heard the comment, "I'd fuck her". Crass? Yes. But I could see the compliment behind the vulgarity. I don't hear that comment anymore. And I'd like to think it has more to do with my general hatred toward men lately, and less to do with my physical appearance. So I'm going with that theory. (The truth can suck my dick) Which brings me to the whole point of my little post. It's been 22 months since I've had sex. 22 Months In case you've lost your ability to form thought let me spell it out for you in plain English. There are cobwebs in and around my vagina. It probably smells like an attic, or like grandma, but I'm too chicken to bend over and attempt to snif. It's not just the fear of stinkiness that keeps me from sniffing, but the fear of bending over too far and getting stuck. How would I get to the phone? And how in the hell would I explain my twisty-ness to the ER doc? And worse yet, what if my ER doc was George Clooney!? "So what happened?" He would say. I could use the "I was doing Yoga" schtick but one look at my not so lean physique and he'd be on to my game. I could say that I was attempting to rescue abandoned puppies from a storm drain, but everyone knows that creepy clowns live in storm drains and there ain't no fucking way I'm getting anywhere near a clown. I'm happy not floating, thank you very much. So he'd ask me again and I'd be forced to truth. That a ninja attacked me as I was getting out of my car and I whipped out my Glock and did the infamous "shoot and roll" but ended up getting stuck in the roll. But I would make sure to emphasize that I capped that mutha fucka so it was ALL worth it. He would stare at me for a second, drop his eyes to his clipboard, take a deep breath and say, "You were smelling your vagina, weren't you?" I would then hang my head in shame, and smile. Who cares if my vagina has turned to dust? Because my doctor is George fucking Clooney!

I'm totally showing my patriotism...

If we - and when I say we I mean the government - ever do find Osama bin Laden, I think instead of merely killing him or putting him on trial for war crimes, we should put him in a rink with 'professional' wrestlers. Not the young shiny, oiled, roided wrestlers. But the old, veiny ones who are more used up than a 8 hour tampon. Those dudes are fucking scary. Just sayin.

Knock on wood...

I'm almost afraid to post this because I don't want to jinx myself. But I've been in a good mood lately. I'm still lonlier than hell but it's easier when I keep myself busy. I've started going to the gym again. Only been once since I signed up but I'd like to try to go on the nights that I don't have Ryan with me and that's often enough, I think. And thanks to my fam's Wii challenges I've started moving a bit more when I am home. It's something. I've also started on anther book...I know I know. But it's not always as simple as "finish one before you start another". I'm not eating dinner, I'm letting characters tell stories through me. And sometimes, one yells louder than the other. Right now Valerie is screaming at me so I'm telling her story. She's a strong woman, but she doesn't realize it until much later in her life. And thankfully she has Jack and Katie to keep the voices quiet. She'll do just fine but she has some things to say and until I get the words down, I don't think she'll quiet down. Work still sucks but I just put in my time and call it a day, every day. Hollywood will come a callin someday (I hope). My step mother thinks I've become a stranger. Not quite sure what to say to that. I haven't moved or changed my number so...uh...yeah.

Someone else is living in my house

Okay, not technically living but close enough. She's sitting on my couch, in my spot. She's watching the television that I helped pick out but couldn't help carry in because it weighs 200lbs and I was pregnant when we bought it. She sits on my chair by my table to eat with him by her side. She walks up and down my stairs and sleeps in my bedroom on what used to be my bed. And I will never know why. I was never told what I did wrong, or what made her better than me. Hearing, "it just didn't work out" or "we grew apart" just isn't good enough because they aren't real answers. They are excuses. They are things we say when we are too chicken to say what we want to say. And that is him. Chicken. My all time favorite food.