Words from the Edge of Insanity

Me? High Maintenance? Nahhhhh

2010-12-27T16:33:00.000-08:00

So the other day, my husband was having a conversation with a woman at work (poor guy, he's one of only a few of his gender there) and she casually asked him what he was getting me for Christmas. He said he had a few ideas, probably an appliance or something like that. The woman gave him an abhorrent look and promptly snapped, "You can't get her that!" She went on to explain he needed to get me something personal, something special...like jewelry or something like that. She then lectured him for several minutes on the etiquette of gifts for his wife and he quietly listened. When she was done, he said, "but she's just not that high maintenance."

I have to agree with him. I wasn't' expecting anything so expensive as diamonds or a new car. Of course, getting that new Camero I've been drooling over would've been nice, but after 23 years of marriage I know my husband would never think to buy something that financially significant without talking to me about it....for weeks....before making the purchase. All in all, I think my husband gets off pretty easy and he agrees. We did have a good laugh over it, especially when I said he should've told her he was getting me cooking lessons. She probably would've gone apoplectic on him when the truth is I would love to have some gourmet cooking or wine and food pairing classes.

What did I get? An immersion blender/chopper, three bottles of wine, a gift certificate for more wine and four different sets of two wine glasses and the 6th season of Deadliest Catch. See? Give me wine and good TV and I'm happy. Not high maintenance at all.

2010-11-24T06:43:00.001-08:00

So here we are, the season where holidays are stacked up on each other. (On top of that, I've had two snow days from work...whoohoo!!) It's a time where families get together and have fun (or too much togetherness), talk about growing up, tradition and all that other stuff. Unless your like us. We are transplants into the Pacific Northwest and our families are scattered across the states--Kansas, Virginia, Illinois, Las Vegas...). We'd travel, but quite honestly, the airports suck at the holidays (and I'm really in no hurry to have some TSA's hands groping me or submitting myself to low level radiation scans--I'm already unhealthy enough as it is, thanks though for the offer) and we have too many pets and no one to watch them while we're gone anyway.

I have to say, it's kinda nice with it just being "us", especially when I hear others talk about all the family drama that seems to go on during the holidays. No Unlce Joe getting drunk and ruining dinner. No cat fights between aunts. No arguing over who made better sweet potatoes or who burned the turkey. But, mind you, we still will have drama....just a different sort:

Me: "I don't see the point in making a whole turkey when no one eats it."
Hubby: "It's Thanksgiving, you have to eat turkey! I can't help it if no one in this family eats leftovers."
Me: "We don't like turkey to begin with. Why would we want leftovers."
Hubby: "Because it's Thanksgiving. You have to eat leftovers."

Yes, my husband's answer to everything is "Because it's Thanksgiving, you HAVE to {insert topic of choice} . Needless to say, he always wins. This year, it's a whole turkey deep fried. Fortunately, he's doing it at work so there's no clean up involved on my part...whoopee!

Here's another family drama:

16 yr old son: "Are there any dinner rolls left?"
Me: "You at 12 of them at dinner. Your sister, dad and I each had two. There's none left"
16 yr old son : But it's Thanksgiving. You're supposed to have leftover dinner rolls!"

Do you see the family resemblance here? By the way, my son is 6'3" and weighs 120 lbs. He has a metabolism similar to the speed of light. He eats 12 dinner rolls and loses two pounds. I eat 12 dinner rolls and it goes straight to my ass.

Other frequent Thanksgiving holiday scenarios in my my holiday life:

The 19 year old daughter will whine incessantly about being soooooo bored because none of her friends are available to entertain her. Her father will inevitably make a suggestion that maybe she should entertain herself by working on her college application and she'll stomp off in a fit. At this point, she will entertain herself by picking on her brother. And that never ends well.

One of the dogs (probably the PITA dog) will get a hold of something and either yack it back up or stink up the room to the point of immediate human evacuation from the vicinity of dog(s). I'm sure there will be a cat fight somewhere in the house and fur will fly.

Oh, and by the way, this year my dishwasher is broken so all dishes will have to be done by hand. By me, most likely. (okay, that was my moment of whining).

After dinner, well argue over how many Christmas decorations to put up and where to put the five dozen Santa statues my husband has collected over the years.

So, overall, pretty benign sort of drama than others who have large families. Maybe I miss it a little, then again, probably not. After all, Christmas is only a few weeks away and we'll have more drama again just so I don't miss it too much.

Wine and Writing...

2010-11-11T16:54:00.000-08:00

Although Whine and Writing could work as well, but isn't nearly as fun.....

A little bit ago...like January....Sharron suggested that to break through my chronic writer's block I drink wine while writing. Okay, so it's taken me this long and a trip to Las Vegas where I discovered Nora's Wine bar to decide to try this strategy, but at least I'm going to give it a whirl.

It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.

So, to work out the things in my head, I'm going to blog about which wines I have and tell you about them so you might decide to give them a try as well. I'll start from the beginning.

While down in Vegas, my nephew took me to Nora's Wine Bar which isn't on the strip and since I don't know Vegas you're going to have to Google Map it to get there if you feel so inclined. My first discovery was the term "flight". This apparently is a term for the amount poured for tasting a wine. Whatever. I stared at the menu as though it were written in Klingon, recognizing very few terms and even fewer winery names. My nephew tried his best to educate this old dog on the new subject of vino, however my method of choosing which flights I wanted was reduced to closing my eyes and pointing.

This got me the Mediterranean Red category and out of the three one appealed to me far more than the others. Fortunately they had little tags on the glass stems because I never would've remembered what the wine was. Regaleali Nero D'Avola from the Tasca D'Almerita winery in Italy was the turning point for me on red wine. I've never liked red wine but this made me change my mind. I'd like to impress you with all that fancy wine talk....all those intricate flavors, but my palate is far too novice to distinguish. According to some online wine store, the tasting is described as: "Bright ruby red color, this wine offers a rich bouquet of cherry, mulberry, and raspberry. On the palate, it is complex and supple, with ripe berries framed by juicy tannins."

Well, say it how you want, it was damned good wine!

As a result of this testing, I made my first trip up to a local wine bar/store just up the road from me. I showed the owner my little note and he informed me that it was only $13 a bottle. Awesome. I'll take three.

So starting tonight, while trying to bitch slap my inner critic into submission and hopefully unconsciousness, I'm going to blog about the wines I'm drinking.

Tonight's wine is Cupcake Winery's Red Velvet. According to the label, "this wine shows a heady nose of chocolate, deep rich blackberries, red fruits and creamy mocha finish that is unmistakable in it's intensity and length."

You had me at chocolate.

I think the label was right and it would go well with a spicy beef dish or a bbq bacon cheeseburger, but we're having it with pork chops, onions and apples tonight.....so call me wine ignorant. Not overly sweet and, although I'd never pick it out on my own, knowing it's there, I do taste chocolate and berries. Overall, a good wine, I'd definately buy it again.

Chocolate and wine, be still my heart. Take that you bitch critic. Now move so the muse can take over.

Happy New Year

2010-01-02T08:46:00.000-08:00

Here it is 2010....been awhile since I've been here. With the New Year comes resolutions. So, I'm putting them into writing, not that anyone really cares or wants to read them, but more to keep myself honest and remind myself of what my goals are. I plan to hang this up both at work an home, someplace where it will be in my face so I can kick my ass into gear and stay on track.

I'm not going to do the eat less, exercise more, lose weight resolution. With my current health issues, that's a given. So, I really only have three resolutions for now an they are in no particular order since none are more important or significant than any of the others:

1. Cook more, eat out less and have fun in the kitchen: This one isn't very hard for me. I've recently found that watching Food Network has inspired the inner chef. I'm making better choices in the grocery store, buying less processed foods, pre-packaged foods and making healthier meals. I've decided my next house will need a full gourmet kitchen because this one isn't big enough for me to work with four adults, two dogs and a cat who are almost always underfoot, and I never have enough counter space. Ahh, the thought of a fabulous Viking stove....Now if only that came with someone to clean up after me.

2. Finish a damn book: Okay, so technically, I have finished a book, several in fact. But writing hasn't really been a priority lately. However, I've made some writing decisions thanks to my good bud Sharron and Adrienne Lee, another author who was kind enough to crack the whip on my ass the last month or so. I'm going to try to blog more, not that anyone other than my good friends will read it but it is a very cathartic thing, I've started a food journal that helps keep me honest about my eating habits, so why not a writing journal. I haven't seriously written in such a long time and I have to realize an accept that it's going to be hard to get back into. But it's like exercise, the more you do it, the more you crave it. I have to use those creative muscles to build them up and make them strong. My new matra: Write, dammit!

3. It's just a job: I work full time during the day and although I do love what I do, the place itself is very stressfull. I let it take over at times an I need to stop that. I'm going to leave my job the moment I walk out that door and not take it so seriously. I'm expendable there, I know that, so my job has to be just as expendable in my mind. It's not a career, it's a job. I'm not going to let the negativity of that place destroy my creativity or energy. I won't let them have that much power over me. My new mantra: it's just a job.

I'm starting the New Year with a trip to San Diego to clear my mind and get away from everything and I'm sure Sharron will do some serious ass-kicking while I'm down there which is probably what I need. I'm sure the wine and kleenex will be flowing abundantly. But that's okay, it's what I need. So right now, I'm formulating a story in my head and am going to start writing every day to get that creativity flowing. It's what I want to do and I'm going to do it despite my family, job and real life obligations. This is what I want to do for me. This is what I what for my career.

And I'm the only one that can make it happen.

Movies to Lighten My Mood

2009-06-20T18:00:00.000-07:00

I'm in sort of a blue funk today, don't now why but I suspect my family is involved in it somehow, so I pulled out a movie I really love to watch: Pirates of the Caribbean, Curse of the Black Pearl. I lost track how many times I saw it in the theater, but I remember Sharron and I sitting through it and reciting the lines from about half the movie.

I've always been a sucker for pirates. The very first romance novels I read were pirate stories and my most favorite was by Danielle Harmon called My Lady Pirate. It had a typical "bodice ripper" cover (and although I HATE, HATE, HATE that term, it pretty much sums up the covers from the 80's romance novels). Books with female pirates, although my favorite (gotta love kick-ass rebellious females) were hard to come by but even so, if it had a pirate it in, more than likely, I was there. There's just something about them that I loved...maybe I was a pirate in a past life who knows...

I was thrilled when the Pirates trilogy came out. Originally, Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow was my favorite (OMG...when he looks over his shoulder and smiles....sigh)but it didn't take long for Orlando Bloom and James Norrington (especially in the second one) to be added to my "hot guy" list as well . But hot pirate guys aside, the movies (all three) worked well. The cast was enjoyable to watch together and the story lines were good. The third one got a bit plot heavy like they tried to cram too much into one movie, but it was still enjoyable. There are lines from the movie I love ( "This is either madness or brilliance" "Its remarkable how often those two coincide") and just the over all fun tone the movie sets from the moment you see Jack sailing in as his boat sinks. I also love the characterization they did, particularly of Barbosa, so that you relate to him purely on the fact that all he wants in life is to be able to taste an apple again. Even the music is fabulous.

So, with any luck, a trilogy night of all three movies might get me out of this blue funk. Then again, maybe it will just ease it back a bit. Either way, it will still be an enjoyable evening.

Now, WHERE'S THE RUM???????

Oooo, mojitos.....

2009-06-07T08:27:00.001-07:00

I've decided my creativity only comes out when I'm out of the house and away from the many, many distractions there, so I'm sitting in a coffee shop near my house typing this. I'm going to try posting to my blog as a warm up to working on my book.

I watched New In Town last night, a movie that didn't do well in the theater. I can see why: it was a funny, entertaining, sweet romance with a happy ending straight out of a romance novel.

Something I'd be proud to write.

I don't know what it is about society hating fairy tale stories. I don't understand what the draw is behind movies with depressing or sad endings, or the obsession to watch movies with blood, gore and grim storylines. I guess they are okay some of the time, but what is wrong with a story about something as basic as romance? Notice I don't say "a love story" because that, at least in the romance industry, is completely different. In most love stories (Horse Whisperer, Titanic, etc) the romance is secondary and almost always has a bittersweet, or in my opinion, not so happy ending. My husband and I argue about this often, but I think last night, watching the movie, he got it. He said to me, "this is the kind of story you write. I could see you writing something like this."

BINGO!

Yes, this is my type of story. That fairy tale, happily ever after, boy meets girl kind of story. Together they overcome conflict and end up together. I would've like to have seen a bit more of their emotional story line, diving deeper into the characters rather than just having the external plot line scratch the surface, but it worked okay. And hey, watching Harry Connick is always a night well spent for me (except he didn't sing...darn it!). So bring on more romance and more happy endings!

So, with that in mind, I'm off to write my own story which will hopefully be just as satisfying and funny as New In Town.

Musings

2009-05-03T01:09:00.000-07:00

I sit here at one in the morning, waiting for my popsicle of a daughter to get home from Relay for Life (I told her it was going to be too cold but did she believe mom? Noooooo!) and I'm thinking about where I'm at in my life and wondering how I got here. As little as five years ago I was creating stories in a frenzy, coming up with new ones faster than what I could write them. Now my head is empty and I'm asking myself, what the hell happened???

I know it's me and my problem. Nothing anyone can say or do can change my situation. It has to come from within me. But how? I've tried new stories, tried revising old ones, but nothing is happening. My muse seems to have run off to the Caribbean with a cabana boy or something. I was debating about entering the Emerald City opener, a writing contest from the Greater Seattle RWA chapter to which I belong. But what do I enter?

I have this manuscript, the one that placed in three contests...the one an editor called "trite" (after requesting it and then taking a year and three months to give me that little nugget of wisdom). It was destined for Blaze but no more. That line has changed so much from it's conception, it no longer interests me or fits my writing style. I know my heart truly lies in romantic comedy...Rachel Gibson, Jenny Cruise, Christina Ridgeway, etc... So that means rewrites...big rewrites....on this manuscripit. Could it be this is what's holding me back. This story, which I love, isn't finished. There's some problems with the motivation of my charaters which needs to be fixed and there's two secondary characters who really would like their story told but it doesn't seem they want their own book. Maybe that's the problem. I haven't yet finished this one.

But how do I start? The story is cold in my head now, which is sort of good, sort of bad. It's good because it's a fresh eye, I can see things I wouldn't have seen when I was so close to it a few years ago. But the characters, although still in my head, are now cold. I'm going to have to learn them all over again. But maybe I'll see what I'm missing...what they're missing.

So my goal (yes, I'm putting it in writing for all to see) is to re-write this story. I'm going to start by re-writing the first chapter and, hopefully (hey, don't give me that do or do not crap right now) get the first chapter into the contest by June 1st. That gives me a month. One freakin' month.

Oy vey.

I can do it (she says knowing that's what she's supposed to say but seriously doubting it)! No, I'm going to do it. I have to do it. I need to find this spark in me again because I seriously miss it. I'm wandering around the house trying to fill my time with things that aren't all that interesting to me and feeling sorry for myself. STEP AWAY FROM THE FOOD NETWORK CHANNEL! I need to buck up and get off the pity wagon...and stop whining! Yes, I have middle school and high school graduation in a month, yes my work is driving me insane again, but dammit, I want to be a writer! And the only way to be a writer is to write! I have to find a way to write!

So, staring tomorrow, er, today, I'm going to spend at least an hour writing. My lunch hour will become my personal time. It's nice outside and there's no reason I can't find a little place away from life to spend some time with pen on paper.

I feel so....terrified!

The Hated Muse

2008-12-30T17:51:00.000-08:00

Nora Roberts once commented that you couldn't wait for your muse to show up, you had to hunt the bitch down and beat her into submission (I tried to find the exact quote because it's funny, but Google failed me). I'm off work for ten days and had all the intentions in the world of writing, but unfortunately, someone forgot to tell my muse that and she's been off in a bar somewhere, no doubt drunk and picking up ugly men. Several times I've hunted her down but I've decided that not only does she need to be beaten into submission as Queen Nora says, but she needs a good dose of Ritalin for what seems like her short attention span these days. I've been able to round up The Bitch for maybe a chapter but then she's off again, doing something else while I stare at a blank page wondering where do my characters go next. I hate this part of writing. Nothing seems to help any more and I'm beginning to doubt myself and my desire to be a writer. Yes, I have a lot going on my life, but others can write through the stress of daily life, why can't I?

So here I am, once again chasing my muse around the room, trying to get her to focus but she's more slippery than a greased hairless chihuahua and about as much help as my seventeen year old daughter (who IS the center of the universe in her opinion) and it's getting difficult. So here I sit, listening to Harry Connick Jr to get inspired (and irritate the Center of The Universe just for fun), and instead of writing, I play Roller Coaster Tycoon. If Nora were here, she'd be appalled....and more than likely beat me into submission, which is probably what I need. I'd gladly give up my seventeen year old to channel Nora about now (then again, when she's in one of her moods, I'd give my seventeen year old up for pretty much anything)

Once again, the muse has escaped her restraints. Now, if only she'd come home with someone who looked like Roarke.....

Let it snow, let it snow.....

2008-12-22T18:33:00.000-08:00

According to my daughter's estimates this afternoon, we received 11 inches of snow last week here in Seattle. The news is saying it'll be the first white Christmas in 18 years.

Yes, Cathy, I can hear you laughing all the way from Alaska.....

I'd probably enjoy it more if I didn't have to venture out in it to go to work. Now granted, I grew up in Wisconsin where 11 inches in a week of snow is a minor inconvenience, however there, it not only is a heck of a lot flatter in terrain but the city knew how to deal with snow. Here, there's hills everywhere (may of which would be classified as "mountains" in WI) and to compound that annoying problem, IF the city does anything, they put down a useless mix of sand and deicer which does squat. They plow a few main roads but the secondary and side streets go unattended making driving near to impossible. They you got the morons driving with chains on the bare pavement....always fun to watch the light show from the sparks they are throwing off or worse, the idiots who are driving like there's NOT really 11 inches of snow.

But what's really disturbing is watching how snow brings out the natural selection process, taking out the human beings whose IQ level is in the range of possibly a cardboard box (can you say Jackass?). Like the teenagers, or twenty-something males who think that tying a sled to the back of a moving car doing 20 mph down the street of their subdivision is an awesome idea and then are actually surprised when the car pulling them stops suddenly and they go smacking into the back of it or that they swing wide and end up going cranium first into car parked at the curb of the street. Or the brain surgeons who sled down the secondary streets thinking they are above the laws of physics and really are going to stop before they get to that perpendicular main road with all traffic.

So, here's to more snow in the forecast and more incidences of sheer stupidity...after all without them, they'd have nothing to report on the news.

Olympic Swimming Fever

2008-08-19T20:51:00.000-07:00

I'm not real big into the summer Olympics, but I have to admit I got caught up in the whole Michael Phelps thing but probably not for the reason you think. Yes, it's amazing that he's accomplished what no one else has by winning eight medals, but the reason I found myself wrapped up in it is because when I look at Michael Phelps, I see my son -- both are tall, thin, have big hands and big feet, and have an arm span like a condor. The more I hear about Michael Phelps, the more I see the parallel with my son -- both are ADHD, were bullied and struggled in school. My son also swims, not competitively...but he is part fish.

I pointed this out to my son this week, showing him that despite his hardships and struggles with ADHD and school, this guy accomplished something. Something big! He didn't let anything hold him back from his dream. He worked at swimming and worked hard. He set his sights on something and didn't let anyone tell him he couldn't do it. I told my son he has this same power inside him and when he starts to doubt to think about Michael Phelps.

I truly admire this young man's mother for supporting him throughout the years. From experience, I know at times it's not easy raising an ADHD child. If you don't believe me, think about how you'd feel planning a birthday party for your child only to have no one show up because it turns out he has no friends at school.

Many consider ADHD something imagined. It's not. It's a real neurological condition that varies in severity. There are some kids who manage fine with structure or diet. My son is not one of them. He needs medication to function daily because without it, his mind moves at the speed of light and he loses focus, acts before he thinks and becomes disruptive. He also gets very frustrated with himself for not being "normal" like other kids (he also has Dyslexia which doesn't help). Medicating him was not something we took lightly but when we saw what he was capable of on the medicine, we knew it was a choice we had to make. Is it over-diagnosed? Probably, but that doesn't mean it doesn't really exist.

ADHD has its advantage...strong creativity, high energy, risk taking...my pediatrician always told me that it produced traits that made good CEO material. And it's true...several CEO's are ADHD. My son's favorite phrases are, "Hey, I have a good idea," or "what if..." And he always ask questions. So much so, there's times his father and I want to put duct tape over his mouth just for a few moments of silence! His pediatrician also told me not to worry about my son's build...he always said he had the build of a swimmer or runner. Now I have doctors trying to convince me that he has a condition called Marfans because his arm span is longer than his height (I hear Phelps, who is 6'4" has a 6'7" arm span).

I do everything I can to advocate for my son whenever I can. But that doesn't mean I cut him slack either. I expect him to do his best and not use his ADHD as a reason not to do something. I don't accept "I can't do it." So thanks, Michael Phelps for helping me prove my point. My son probably won't be standing on a platform at the Olympics, but I know he won't let his ADHD get in the way and find successful in his life.

WTF?

2008-07-29T17:20:00.000-07:00

Usually it's Sharron who is a stickler with Customer Service, but today, it's my turn to rant.

Pinnacle Security - DO NOT USE THEM

We changed from ADT to Pinnacle in June of 2007 after my frugal sensibility saw a lower monthly cost than what I was paying and blinded me to what amounted to nothing more than a fast, hard sales pitch of the company and their services. I can't say we've been happy with the system, but I guess we haven't been unhappy with it either, it's just...there. I'd like to say I'm confident that if some Hannibal Lechter type got the munchies in the middle of the night and decided to break in, some omnipotent voice would come over the security system announcing "Are you alright? Help is on the way" like in the corny commercial, but some part of me is afraid I'd become dinner before the police would actually show up (unless they happen to already be at the neighbors...which is entirely possible since they are there almost daily...but I digress).

My uncertainty was reinforced today when I called Pinnacle to get a replacement sensor that fell off the door and disappeared only to find out that THEY SOLD MY ACCOUNT TO ANOTHER COMPANY!!!! In January of 2008!!!! Without notifying me! I have no idea who this new company is but they now have all my personal information...name, SS#, credit card account, passwords....WTF?

I've written a particularly stern letter of complaint to Pinnacle telling them I want out of my three year contract without penalty because I consider this a severe breach of my privacy. They could've at the very least notified they were going to sell my account -- and subsequent personal information-- to someone else. I'm sure they will argue, stating it's in the contract in tiny, unreadable, complicated legal-eeeze that they have the right to sell an account at anytime and without any prior notice WHICH IS COMPLETE, UNETHICAL BULLSHIT! I intend to copy the BBB on it (and if I have to, the Attorney General). I'll keep you up to date on what I hear. I'm not hopeful....but I'm still extremely pissed off!

That looks like a.....

2008-07-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

...penis. Yes, I have a penis on my arm. In blue surgical ink.

Now, you might ask how one goes about getting a temporary tattoo of a penis on her arm. Well, it's rather simple-- just get a bug bite, make sure it gets infected and turns to cellulitis. I guess it's by pure chance that the outline the dr at the urgent care clinic did resembles something so phallic on my arm, but of course the key is to have co-workers who notice it, have no qualms about pointing out what it looks like and jump at the opportunity to add a few more realistic touches to the drawing (which fortunately came off with a good scrubbing of alcohol...rubbing, not drinking)

It almost reminds me of the ending to that one Austin Powers movie where everyone watches the space ship fly off.... "That looks like a big..." "Johnson!".

You call that a prom dress?????

2008-07-13T21:13:00.000-07:00

If this was your daughter, would you let her go to the prom in this dress?
Well, someone did and the girl ended up being handcuffed and sat down in the back of a police car. Not so much for what she was wearing but for having a flat out hissy fit tantrum because she was told by school officials that her dress was indecent and in order to attend the prom she needed to go home and change.

Now, first off, I can see exactly how this unfolded. I've worked at a school district long enough to know the attitude some kids have (and usually get from one or both of their parents). She was told "no" and immediately went with the "you can't tell me what to do" crap. Sorry, sweetheart, you broke the clearly stated dress code rules. Uh, yeah, they have every right to tell you "no". It's not like they told you NOT to come back to the prom. They just told you to go home and change. It was reasonable and logical and you had absolutely no right to throw a temper tantrum like some spoiled two year old. She deserved what she got for not following the rules and being belligerent to school officials. Unfortunately, dealing with flack for taking action in cases like this is a problem with schools today. Parents are too upset that someone is actually holding kids accountable for their misbehavior...hmm, maybe if the parents had done a little more of that in the earlier years, the school wouldn't have to be doing it now. How's that for a concept.

Secondly, where were the parents? The mother? I think I saw one comment that said that the mother didn't know anything because the girl left from her grandmother's house. Okay, that's even worse. The grandmother let her go out like this???? I can just hear it... "But grandma, everyone dresses like this for the prom". Uh, doesn't look like your friend there does, so why was grandma okay with this? I also heard reports mom is offering up several excuses...she'd seen a sketch of the dress that was supposed to be made but the girl changed with sketch without mom's knowledge. Excuse me, she had the dress MADE for prom? Hope you didn't pay very much because that wasn't a whole lot of material they used. And sorry, excuse doesn't fly. Why wasn't the mom with the girl when the sketch was presented. Worse yet, what dressmaker would make changes without consulting the parent first???? Mom said she agreed with the school's decision and didn't approve of the the dress either....nice backpedal there mom.

Face it, the girl screwed up and then was held accountable. This shouldn't be news. That it is news shows how we've become a society of excuses. Sad, sad, sad. Okay, I'm down off my soapbox now. Back to writing in my fictional world...

(Now, so that no one jumps all over my ass, this is all ALLEGEDLY REPORTED. Don't jump all over me because I'll openly admit I don't know all the facts...I doubt anyone does except the people involved and that's probably subjective as well. Oh and the picture is labeled "courtesy" on a Houston paper website. Now, get off my back about it.)

But I wanna turn on the Harley!!!

2008-07-04T12:19:00.001-07:00

My mother was deathly afraid of motorcycles having known someone that was hit while riding one and subsequently paralyzed. She always told me she'd kill me before I'd get a chance to kill myself if I ever dated a guy that rode one. Although I knew my mother well enough to know that she would actually carry out that threat to a certain extent, it may have stopped me from getting my butt on a bike but not fantasizing about riding one some day. Born and raised in Milwaukee, home of Harley Davidson, that's always been a part of that dream.

I've talked about it for years, my husband not really reacting to it that I can remember. But after seeing the movie The Bucket List (along with some encouragement from his boss who rides a BMW bike) he decided he wanted to learn to ride a bike and asked me to take the safety course with him. He passed (the rat) I didn't (hey, I'd just came back from Mexico, okay?) As luck had it, our neighbor was selling his bike and we now are proud owners of a 2000 Harley Sportster. The plan was to share it. He buys everything from the boots to the gear so that it will work for both of us.

Not that I can ride it yet.

My husband has taken to it like a fish to water. Meanwhile, being a beginner, thinking about riding an 833 cc scares the CRAP out of me. But, I'm going to do this because I wanna be a biker chick. Practice will help. But the question is, will I actually GET to practice? It just makes me wonder if and when I'll ever get to ride it. Maybe I'll just have to beat him with the helmet to get him off the damn thing so I can ride it once in awhile. Naaaa, it would destroy the integrity of the helmet.

Hey, I know...my birthday's coming up, he can just buy me one of my own!

2008-06-07T20:13:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, Mexico. What a wonderful vacation. Yes, I managed to get away from my family and the job from hell for a few days for a a week in Cancun with Sharron...just a girls week away. FABULOUS! The resort was great (and extremely huge), included all the booze we could drink (and we did our share), weather was a bit iffy, but hey, we were still on vacation. Some of the highlights:

Interesting places: Tulum, Xel Ha, Playa del Carmen
Interesting people:

Some, no most women, should avoid cornrows at all costs....don't care if your on vacation or not, 'kay? And really, high heels with bikinis? What's the point?
Peter, the 26 year old 5th grade teacher who just seemed to wander around the resort because his friends were constantly ditching him. So drunk, he would actually weave when he walked and had no idea where his hotel room was (and it didn't matter what time of day this was, he was always weaving and bobbing). One of those 'Iloveyouman' drunks, everyone knew him and knew his life story because he was happy to sit and tell you until someone he knew finally retrieved him leading him back to his room.
The cab driver who taught us to swear in Mayan....and wow, was it a doozey! Too bad I can't remember how to say it.

Fun things we did:

Sharron's trip to the infirmary when she managed to fall and knock her noggin....wet marble is NOT your friend.
At at Senior Frog's, watching the other drunk patrons drink pina coladas out of tall plastic glasses that looked suspiciously like a very large penis with palm fronds (would that make it a penis colada instead) and do shots of Sex On The Beach which involved the waitress going through a series of things to each person while blowing a very annoying whistle which ended with her pinching their ta tas.

Yes, watching people on vacation is a blast. Making fun of them is even better. It's what Sharron and I do -- we love to rake people over the coals. Writing? Sure we did writing, but watching Peter the Wandering drunk weave his way around the resort was far more fun.

Flying the Unfriendly Skies

2008-05-15T21:09:00.000-07:00

As if it's not bad enough I get treated like crap at work, I now go on vacation and have to be treated like crap on an airline. I can do without the in flight meals...they were yucky anyway, and I've managed to work around the rules of what can and can't be brought on board, however this whole bag thing really has me irked. Recently, the airlines (and in this particular vacation I'll be flying good ol' Continental Airlines) announced that you could only check one bag free and after that, you have to pay $25 per bag extra.... unless you are one of the "elite"...one of the "president's club"...one of those people who basically spend all their life on a plane and have more airline miles than God.

Gee, guys, nothing like making us little peon vacationers who don't fly very much feel like we're the ones to crap on.

So, just because I don't have millions of miles to use for upgrades or free trips (like that ever works anyway...anytime I've ever tried to use them I get screwed) you are now going to hit ME and ME ONLY (and by that I mean any poor sap stuck in economy) up for extra cash because I want to check two bags. And it's not like I have any choice otherwise...you pretty much have me by the short and curlies. You know what it seems like to me???

D I S C R I M I N A T I O N

Wouldn't it make more sense to charge those frequent fliers and get twice as much money than by only charging us once-in-a-blue-moon traveler? Wow...what a concept!!! Doesn't take someone with a MBA to figure that one out. So, maybe you should consider that, huh? Because you know what I'm considering right now? Sending everything I can't pack into one bag via Fed Ex or UPS...I'd rather give them the money then you morons.

Poo-pourri

2008-04-21T21:04:00.000-07:00

We were having a discussion the other day at work about the show Seinfeld and it struck me that we have a very Seinfeldian (is that a word?) situation at work. Don't think it was one they touched on in the gazillion years the show ran, but since I don't remember each of show in their run, I could be wrong. Warning: the rest of this post will dissolve quickly into bathroom humor...literally.

In the place I work we have two bathrooms: A large, multi-stalled one with good ventilation and a smaller two-stalled one with not so great ventilation. There's an unwritten rule among the males that if you have to uh...'punch a grumpie' as a one put it, you use the bigger bathroom because the ventilation is better. Now, I don't know where men got the idea that women are dainty little things whose...uh...grumpies don't stink, but I'm here to say, this just ain't true. And the whole dainty thing could have argument too once you've been in two-stall room with.....

The Grunter.

Yes, the Grunter. Everyone knows her and avoids her as much as possible because it's just really hard to look a person in the face when you know what she sounds like working so hard on the other side of the stall wall. And boy, she can leave behind a residue to make your eyes water. Now, before you ask about the whole bathroom freshener thing, you have to understand we are in a 'fragrance free' office because there are some in the building allergic to everything known to man--this rule of course excludes our boss who walks around smelling like an Estee Lauder perfume factory to cover the smell of cigarettes she's not supposed to be smoking in her car on the property because it's against policy...but I digress...

The Grunter had been on the schedule of every day after lunch and we all had it timed out where if you didn't get in there before noon, you didn't go in until after one. If you were really desperate, you could go down to the bigger bathroom, but then it looked to everyone like you were doing something you really weren't so most people just waited. Well recently she's changed her schedule in an effort to throw us all off. Now, no one knows when it's safe to breathe the air in that little room. Of course no one wants to actually confront her about it, telling her that this "rule" is in place for everyone's breathing safety, so we all suffer in silence.

Where is that spaz Kramer when I need him?

Life in a Writer's Head....Enter At Your Own Risk

2008-04-01T20:48:00.000-07:00

One of the questions I think writers are asked most often is "where do you get your ideas?" Good question! Unfortunately, I have no answer. Everyone is different. Some say they get ideas from their dreams, others say they get it from life experience. But I think, generally, because of the way a writer's mind works, ideas come from anywhere, everywhere and nowhere in particular. They hit you when you least expect it. Some come in the form of characters, some in the form of plot. Others from one scene that plays over and over and over in your head until you're forced to pay attention to it or go crazy.

One of my favorite shows is Deadliest Catch on Discovery Channel, a show about the Alaska crabbing industry. Fishermen and their crew "compete" during the season for the highest take on crab--my favorites are Sig and the Northwester crew or Phil and the Cornelia Marie crew (so maybe, the other's aren't bad either, but Sig and Phil still pull rank). The term "deadliest" in the title comes from the working conditions: freeze-your-nuts-off cold, waves that will sweep you off the boat and into the Bering Sea, greenhorns that don't know what the hell their doing, large swinging crab pots that can knock you on your ass (and into the sea), and then if that wasn't fun enough, you do all this on about two hours of sleep...if you're lucky. I can't wait for the new season to start on April 15th.

So, finding this fascinating as I do, (okay, Cathy, I see you rolling your eyes up there in podunk Alaska wondering what the hell the thrill is) I read all the recent news reports on the Seattle based fishing boat that recently went down near Dutch Harbor. Turns out a woman owns the company which is impressive because it's more a male dominated industry. But what really turned interesting was that this woman is a recluse. She hasn't been seen out in public for years and does all her business via fax and phone from home. There were even reports from people coming out of the woodwork in hopes of fame and fortune that she was never seen without a hat on her head and a scarf covering her face--even in her own home.

Now, to me, this is a fascinating story. Too bad my last manuscript was fairly similar, but in the video game industry. But for me, this is how I sometimes get my ideas. I read about the in the paper, I see them on the news. Something intrigues me enough that I start rolling it around in my head asking, "what if..." A character develops, maybe a plot. But it's a seed and it gets the ball rolling. Like I said, everyone is different and, even for me, it doesn't always work the same. But the ideas are out there...lots of places...and lots of times it's just art imitating life. All a writer has to do is stop, look around them, listen to what others are talking about and ask themselves, "what if..."

Then comes the hard part....PLOTTING! For that, I'm going to need a mojito or two....or five. Where's the rum??? Why's all the rum gone????

2008-03-13T20:33:00.000-07:00

I was trying to figure out something funny and interesting to write about, but sadly, I got nothin'. I lead, and have led, a pretty damned boring life. I don't get lost in the woods like Cathy, and I don't have online dating adventures like Sharron (thank GOD!!!). I work full time and have children, which pretty much suck up time, energy and brain cells -- which isn't very conducive with having a life.

But even before that, I can't think of one thing interesting to tell you about. I got married at age 22, moved to Atlanta and started working full time. That job was probably the most interesting one I had -- a medical transcriptionist in a hospital pathology lab. We saw some pretty interesting things come through there...one of those tiny little ice cream spoons from someone's stomach and things that make you ask questions like, "what would possess a person to put that in a bodily orifice???" or "Wow, that had to hurt going in...what the hell were they thinking?" The docs that we worked with were an interesting bunch as well...smart as hell with a bizarre sense of humor for the most part. They actually started their own personal freak show of various items removed from various individuals who again, found it necessary to put these said items in places not usually reserved for such things (thank God we never had a gerbil come through). Cost to view the freak show was a quarter a viewing. Although once they added the hot pink dildo so huge, it boggled the mind that someone would actually consider using it for anything other than beating a cheating spouse to death and then the cost of admission went up to fifty cents.

Working with these docs was always a learning experience....whether you wanted it to be or not. One question usually resulted in an hour long answer you couldn't help but walk away from thinking, "Wow, that was interesting," or "Ewww, too much information." Like the time I was pregnant with my daughter and the docs were absolutely sure I wanted to see what my body was doing on the inside and pulled me into the lab to show me an example of a uterus and how stretchable it was.

Oh boy.

I also ended up having my daughter in that hospital. It was a constant parade of co-workers in and out of my room while I was in labor--some of them there legitimately to take blood, others just there to cheer me on. One poor young sap had a wife due to deliver in the next three weeks....I'm sure he had nightmares after seeing me in the throws of labor. Looking back, I should've had a clue as to how life with my daughter would turn out....the entire time I watched the breaking news of Jeffrey Dahmer, and when she was actually born, it was amongst tornado and severe storm warnings.

So, now, wasn't that interesting? Hey, you! Yeah, the one snoring in the front row. I asked you a question, dammit! Never mind. I'll just go back to my boring life.

Hey, Listen Up!

2008-02-05T21:00:00.000-08:00

Here it is! The latest release from Sharron McClellan my snarkiest friend and critique partner!

Athena Academy’s darkest nemesis is gunning for her, but USMC Combatant Diver Jessica Whittaker is not easily intimidated. Without thinking twice, she volunteers to do anything to help bring down the school’s deadliest enemy.

Her assignment: an expeditionary mission aboard a sunken ship.

Salvaging for clues on an abandoned vessel should have been simple. But a hostile force—and an unbelievably handsome diving buddy—have turned up the heat. If Jess ever wants to set foot on dry land again she’ll have to contend with her enemy—and her lover—or risk revealing her deepest secret.

Check out her other books at www.sharronmcclellan.com

And if you're really daring, check out angryromancegrrl! Congrats to the winner of the angryromancegrrl contest for the snarkiest remark to someone who is dissing romance.

The Comment: Someone turns up their nose, curls their lip and sniffs, "I don't read romance"
Winner Jodi's comment back: "I guess the cereal box takes too long to finish."

All the entries were fabulous and tough, tough tough to judge. I'm telling you, they were brutal! But all were worthy of praise...gotta love a woman who can deal snark. Good job to everyone that entered!

But, I Don't Wanna Go to School, Mom!

2008-01-17T22:41:00.000-08:00

At forty-two, the last thing I wanted was to go back to school, but, thanks to my teenager, I'm being forced to. It's January and that means the end of the semester: projects and cramming for finals. So tonight, for the second night in a row, we are working on a civics project.

Oh joy.

So here I am, struggling to recall what the information I've retained in the years since high school which, I'm sorry to say, is pretty damned little. Being ADD, I wasn't a good student to begin with and then you add teenage angst, hormones along with the fact that I got mono TWICE my senior year and almost ended up not graduating, and you got yourself a cornucopia of delightful educational memories. And now I get this!

Daughter: Describe Capitalism.

Me: Bill Gates

Daughter: Describe Communism.

Me: Itunes...oh, no wait, that would be Amazon.com now since their deal with Sony.

Daughter: Contrast and compare Democratic and Republican parties.

Me: Dumb and dumber.

My daughter wasn't amused.

After we finished the civics project, it was on to advanced algebra. Now in my world, letters and numbers don't mix. It's sort of like putting blue cheese on your Cocoa Puffs... IT JUST DOESN'T WORK! The minute you start substituting numbers with letters, my eyes glaze over and the drool pools in the corner of my mouth before forming a puddle on the floor by my feet. I...just...don't...get....it. Who uses this anyway? Maybe in some occupations, but certainly none my artistic daughter will go into. But it's required for school. Sorry kiddo, Mom's out on this one.

After that came American Lit....Hellooooo have you read some of this stuff? Harry Potter is ripped from the shelves while being touted as demonic witchcraft yet the schools insist our children read things where depression, poverty, murder and at times perversion run free because it's "Classic Literature". I'd rather sit and listen to Barry Manilow all day while plucking my eyelashes out one by one.

Again, daughter isn't amused. So she picks up her things and heads up to her room There at least she can make up better answers than her mom can in peace and quiet.

Plagiarism, Bad Writing, or Really Not Knowing Any Better

2008-01-10T21:36:00.000-08:00

So, here we go. I can hear the snarky-assed comments from them already. They spout from those "literary types" who wouldn't take romance novels serious if one won the Pulitzer Prize or if Oprah suddenly had an epiphany that most, if not all, of the books she picked were hideously depressing and started up a studio chant of "Nora, Nora, Nora" while throwing Angryromancegrrl bookmarks out to the crowd. They insist romance novels are mindless fluff written by just as mindless, if not horny, housewives who couldn't possibly know the quality of the written word because they're too busy drooling over bare-chested men. They are going to have a field day over the latest allegations of possible plagiarism by a fairly well known writer.

This author (and I won't name her because you can just get off your lazy ass and Google it yourself) apparently took anywhere from phrases to nearly complete paragraphs from research books and used them in her historical novels. The whole thing started at the http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com website (a great place, BTW) when a novice romance reader pointed out that she noticed several large chunks of text that read differently than the author's voice. So, armed with several of this author's books and Google (hopefully there was tequila involved because, hey, where's the fun if it wasn't) two of The Bitches got together and started digging. You can go to their blog and find the results there, but I will tell you it was interesting to see the results. Needless to say, the pitchforks and torches were plentiful.

Now I'm not going to say what she did was right. It wasn't. We learn from little on that you at the very least paraphrase (and I have to say I did some pretty sad examples of rewording in my high school years) because it's not right to take credit for someone else's work. I'm even willing to bet if this author has kids that at some point, she probably even reminded them of that as most moms do. But, does this boil down to TRUE plagiarism? Who can say? Maybe. Maybe not.

I do think it falls more into the category of bad writing, or simply being unimaginative and I don't think it's limited to Romance as so many people will try to insist. The whole point is to take the research you have and create something with it. Using it verbatim from a research book is failing to put that bit of information into the story and letting the character convey it through their point of view to the reader. You don't just slap it onto the page. The results are exactly what this person saw: large chunks of text that stand out like Bugatti in a room full of Ford Escorts.

So, let's recap, shall we? DON'T take research directly from the a book and try to pass it off on your own. DO cite your sources if you do. And if you screw up, admit it. Rambling excuses only makes you look ignorant and more guilty. Practice in front of the mirror if you need to..."yeah, I fucked up...big time. I was an idiot!"

See? Very easy.

Oh, and and for you literary types.....BITE ME because I'm a romance writer and damned proud of it.

Another Rant--but this one a bit more serious

2007-12-29T22:56:00.000-08:00

I was reading an article on a 17 year old girl who got the bright idea to start something online and is now a millionaire. Her business is taking up so much of her time that she had to quit school and hire friends to help her with it. One of the comments on the site was directed at her dropping out of school, saying that it wasn't a good idea and that they hoped she went back and got her GED or something.

You know, I'm wondering if this girl has the right idea.

Now granted, I'm not in favor of dropping out of high school. I have teenagers of my own and I'd like to see that they get at the very least a diploma, however with the way the government has completely fucked up the education system, I can seriously understand how this girl would take running a business over finishing school. I mean seriously, I bet she's learning a hell of a lot more useful stuff running that business than she would sitting in a classroom, stressing over advanced algebra and literature classes.

My two kids are not natural students. Both have ADD/ADHD (and yes, they are on medication so don't even start with me) one is dyslexic and the other has test anxieties. They have to work their assess off in school to get mediocre grades. And the government, despite their claims of "No Child Left Behind" has created such a mess my kids, as well as thousands of others, will be lucky to get out of it with their sanity intact. Thanks to our wonderful government, they've managed to take the "kid" out of being a kid and thrown today's students into a situation where our educational system is as much, if not more stressful than the working community.

They've created a system based on test scores of "book knowledge" and completely forgot that kids need "life knowledge" as well. They complain that the kids today are obese from staying inside and playing those bad, bad video games....helloooooo, did you ever think they're getting obese because they sit in school all day then have to come home and do five more hours of homework to keep up their grades?????? This girl had the glorious ability to think outside the standard academic box and create an answer to a problem thus starting up a successful business and that she pulled it off showed she's not lacking in the brains area.

But did she pass the standardized testing?

You know, I barely squeaked by in school but I don't consider myself dumb. And you remember those stupid occupation tests we had to take? Well they told me I'd be either a domestic servant or a park ranger. Okay, so maybe to my 16 year old, I am a domestic servant ("I'm hungry", "I need laundry done") but it seems I've done pretty darned good for myself. I can string enough, somewhat grammatically correct sentences together to write a novel and I have enough smarts to hold down a job where the information I analyze and report to the state drives the funding for a pretty good sized school district program. I can even calculate change without using a cash register (now ask any teenager today to do that and see what it gets you besides a blank stare!)

Not to shabby for an academic loser, eh?

So, uh, tell me, Mr. President, if the mean weight of three team members on a bobsled team is 161 lbs and the added (fourth) driver brings the mean weight up to 165.5 lbs, exactly what is the weight of fourth person? Oh, and don't forget to show your work. Remember, you don't graduate if you can't answer it correctly--no pressure or anything.

Don't try this at work, people....

2007-12-27T22:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, this one wins the year's biggest 'DUH' factor. A woman, specifically an aspiring romance novelist, was fired from her job when her boss got suspicious that she was typing too much (huh?) and had an IT tech look at her computer. They found her novel that she'd been working on as well as an email from a friend calling her work "a tawdry lust novel" (ACKKK...can you see my eyes rolling back in my head? That ranks right up there with the curse of "bodice ripper" and an insult to all romance writers. If one of my friends called my work they'd die, die I tell you!!! Good thing they're smarter than that). She tries to get out of it by saying that it didn't violate the "personal use" part of the company policy because she really didn't care who looked at her novel.

WTF??????

I don't know which is worse, this chick or the one that was blogging about how much she hated her job....WHILE SHE WAS AT WORK! I don't even think a good smack upside the head would help these two they're so far gone into stupid land. They rank right up there in intelligence with the teachers and school administrators who get busted for having porn on their school computers. Now THAT takes brains.

Okay, listen up people:

rule #1: don't ever put anything personal on your work computer.
rule #2: If you do put something personal on your computer -- TAKE IT OFF!

If you remember nothing else, remember these two rules. Misuse of the computer is near the top on list of reasons employers fire their employees. And don't even think about whining "I'm getting my work done so what's the big deal?" Helloooo, you're being paid to work, not slam the people signing your paycheck, shithead. If you don't like your job, find another one. If you want to write, do it on your lunch hour on your own laptop. If you can't afford a laptop, use a pen and a piece of paper for cripes sake. QUIT YER BITCHING AND USE YOUR FUCKING BRAIN!!!

Like Happy Bunny says..."Make the stupid people shut up" because if they don't, they need to get off my planet.

Things People You Work With Should Never Know

2007-09-30T10:26:00.000-07:00

The people I work with know I'm a writer and most know that I write in the romance genre. The problem comes in that when you're a writer, people want to read what you write. Now, in most cases, it's okay, but when it comes down to people I work with reading my books, I get a little....uh...no a LOT....creeped out.

I see these people ever day. I work with them. But I DO NOT want them to know what's going on in my head! Talk about TMI (too much info). I mean just because I'm a romance writer does NOT mean I wonder about other people's sex lives and I'm sure they don't think about mine (ewwww!) so you can see where them reading a romance novel of mine might be a tad bit out of everyone's comfort zone.

People who aren't writers don't realize that a love scene in a book is about one of the most difficult things in the book to write. Their impression is that you're focusing strictly on the physical when, in reality, it's completely the opposite -- you're really focusing on the emotional which is far more difficult. This isn't Penthouse Letters!!! Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am is much easier to write. Unfortunately, it's not what romance is about. The proof is all the sweet and inspirational romance novels out on the market where the characters do nothing more than kiss.

Romance is about romance. The relationship. Two people overcoming conflict to end up HEA (happily ever after). It's about finding love and committment in a world where you have German polititions lobbying for laws to make marriage null and void after a certain number of years. Call me sappy or call me unrealistic, but I enjoy seeing love win!

So why do I still get all grossed out thinking about my co-workers reading?

Because it's just icky, that's why! And it's just another reason I need to get off my butt and get writing....so I can quit my job and not deal with it!

Ohhhhh, Muse! Get your bitch-ass over here and give me some help, will ya?

Fine! I give...I give....

2007-09-28T22:55:00.001-07:00

Okay, it seems like everyone I know is blogging these days. I don't really see the point...can't imagine too many people wanting to read about my hectic, highly uneventful life. But hey, call me a lemming and watch me jump off the cliff.

Yes, there are days where I really do feel on the edge of insanity. I have this goal, you see. A goal of writing full time and making an actual career out of it. Doesn't seem too difficult. At least not until you throw in a family....one I'me convinced wouldn't know how to do a darn thing to survive should I step off the curb tomorrow morning and get run over by Tony Stewart in his bright orange #20 Home Depot car...and a job from hell that sends my blood pressure through the roof and turns my brain to pudding.

I'm supposed to write through this???

Yes! At least that's what I'm told. I'm supposed to make this happen! Put my butt in the chair and write that story...conflict, plot, sex....all without falling asleep. Hey, no problem! Just let me grab those trusty clothespins of mine to hold the old eyelids open. Ouch! Splinters in the eyelids are not fun.

Oh, and let's not forget the the sixteen year old who thinks my writing is her mortal enemy. Why? Uh, hellooooooo, you're not paying attention to me, mom . I'm bored. I'm hungry. I'm bored. I need money. You're ignoring me! Any of those people telling me to "write through it" wouldn't last five minutes with her standing in front of the desk tapping on the printer to get my attention. Teenagers....now I understand why lions eat their young.

It's difficult forcing myself to write through all this, but I do. Not nearly as much as I should or as I want to. But when I'm dragging into the house after working late yet again to find the dishwasher still hasn't been unloaded, the sink is overflowing with dirty dishes and the mountain of laundry is approaching a height that would bring tears to any thrill-seeking mountain climber, I think about that goal. Someday, I'll be sitting in that chair, in my pajamas, living in my make-believe world and actually getting paid for it. Someday, I'll be able to laugh at those teachers that told me to stop daydreaming in class and focus, or give an Italian salute to the guidance counselors that told me I was destined to become either a park ranger or a domestic servant (and no matter what my teenager believes, I do NOT fall into that second category). Someday, I will be one of those fortunate people who actually get paid for doing something they love!

I just hope I have enough tequila and margarita mix to get me through until that day comes.