Wednesday, December 17, 2008

I'm not dead

I'm just doing a good impression of it.
Have I already stated what a hard time I have this time of year? Well. It needs to be stated again. This time of year sucks for me.
Van broke down. Over a thousand dollars to fix it. Called the propane people, and it took them three fucking days to get their damn truck to my house. I am SO displeased. They had the money on the account, but they couldn't seem to find my damn house.
I got nothing left.
Just a bunch of to-do's floating around in my head. A spark or two for stories. I'm hanging onto those babies. But basically I'm simply surviving.
This is not a mode I particularly like.
I'm overwhelmed. Burned out. Barely functioning.
'Taint pretty. But I seem to be doing a bit better the past day or so. The desire to take a long walk off a short pier has left. Playing in traffic no longer sounds reasonable.
So I'd say that things are looking up.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

In Absentia

I would love to report that in this lengthy absence I was a productive, happy, healthy individual.
I would be lying out my ass.
So let's break it down and see what I HAVE done.
I gained five pounds. I swear. Thanksgiving is the ONLY day I can eat Velveeta dip with ro-tel and sausage and call it breakfast. pft
I had to have my brakes fixed. Driving into town from twenty-five miles out with no brakes does NOT give one warm fuzzies.
I received a call today from the girls' school that MC chose to receive swats for a disciplinary problem. Now. Tell me how damn smart it is to refuse to move to another seat when you are caught talking/laughing/disrupting class. Not too damn smart when your actions mean that you won't be seeing "Twilight" this year. Much less with your best friend, her bf, and your crush du jour. Sucks, don't it?
I haven't written one single word. I don't think jotting down a title and premise sentence count. Do you? Of course, that's how The Portrait came to be. *pondering*
In other words, I haven't done much of anything. I spent Sunday on the couch. I feel as though all I do is run around with errands when I'm not working. My ass is dragging. My ulcer is flaring. I am displeased.
I did, however, do a bit of online shopping. Feeling pretty froggy about that. But my teeter totter is still leaning in the "screw a bunch of this" direction.

p.s. Did anybody feed Periwinkle???

Friday, November 21, 2008

The Sandman Sucks

I've been awake since a little after four. I didn't go to bed until 11:36 pm.
That is a NAP. That is not a night's sleep. At least, not for me.
Usually I get up, go to the bathroom, and toddle back to bed for a couple of hours to try and recuperate.
Not so much this morning. Why? Couldn't tell ya. But I'm not remotely pleased about this.

I've already warned the girls that we would not be going ANYWHERE this weekend. HA! This is due to the fact that I ran all over God's creation for my chickens last weekend. I am NOT exaggerating. Everyone had plans. Sleepovers. Movies. Shopping. Yada yada yada. *eye twitch* *eye twitch*
They ran me ragged.
So I put my foot down on their budding little plans with my directive:
Ye shall work on book reports, clean your rooms, and pester not the Mama.
Dig it?
All good.

Last night, after I worked a full day, I drove home and then drove back to town so that the chickens could visit the mall. MC plasters her face against the passenger's window and exclaims, "I'm home!" as soon as she sees the lights of the mall.
Help me.
So we bip inside. Chickens scatter. OC has a gift card. BC looks for shoes. MC has saved her money (miracle of all miracles) and is looking for shirts.
I liked to never have pried MC OUT of Rue 21.
And to top that off, there is an obnoxious little booth in the middle of the aisle where two sentries await unsuspecting shoppers and attempt to lure them into a conversation in hopes of a sale.
Pissed. Me. Off.
I almost lost it. Hard to imagine, huh? *grins*
The female accosted me on one side wanting to talk about my nails. I explain that my manner of upkeep is clipping them--while never breaking stride. Then the male stepped in my way on the way back and asks for a minute of my time.
"NO, thank you."
Kept walking.
I fairly kept it together. But I warned the chickens that the next time I shop at the mall and see either of these two twits, all bets are off. That's the warning shot.

Took Monday off since I work the Saturday after Thanksgiving. So I have a bit of a long weekend. And Monday without the chickens.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Still in the Dark

THIS is my current favorite song. I listen to it over and over and yes...OVER again. The lyrics are beautiful, and the harmony rocks.
This also goes to show that Oklahoma can produce more than simply country music. Though I do LOVE my Garth and Toby.
I picked this one from YouTube because it shows the artists' personality.


Wednesday, November 19, 2008

NaNo NoMo

I'm finished with NaNo. No, I did not write 50,000 words already. *flicking your forehead*
But I'm done.
Before there is some public outreach, let me explain.
I choose to be done. Plain and simple. This was me grasping for asskicking straws so that I would get my butt in gear and write.
Silly, silly me.
It boils down to poor timing.

It's not as if I don't want to write the book I targeted for NaNo. I do. It's the simple knowing that I'm not meant to write this one yet. I need to finish WATS and an Erotic Paranormal. I live my life in the "knowing." It's the feeling I get when I realize that my life is supposed to be a certain way. And this morning, in the shower, where I receive some of my best thoughts, it came to me.
Put NaNo away. Focus on the other two.
And it felt RIGHT.

Now. As the poster girl for changing from "Letting It Happen" to "Making It Happen", I struggled with this. By God, I could do this. Fifty thousand words in a month? Are you kidding me? I wrote 76,000 words in a month minus two days. It's doable for me. I know that.
But not NOW. Now is not the time.

I've been blue of late. Chalk it up to this time of year. I finished Earth Goddess and immediately fueled myself for at least one or two more WIP's. But I shouldn't have. Me coming off a literary high while dealing with the time of year that reminds me of my infant nephew's death, my home burning, and the worst break-up of my life--is a recipe for disaster.
When I finish a book, I want to grab the nearest keyboard and channel all that creativity back into another WIP. But eventually, I need time to regroup.
It hit me hard this time.
I am quiet.
People wonder what's going on with me.
"Crystal" and "quiet" just don't jibe in the same sentence. *smile*
But I need the time to center myself and sort through my projects while still doing research, working, and being the Mama Taxi to my chickens. Then there's projects for school, the holidays, and cooking Thanksgiving Dinner for the family.
I've simply gone inside for awhile.
The good news is that I've stopped the backslide. I feel my batteries recharging and gearing up for the writing.
I simmer while my mind is a million miles away sorting out thoughts and plots.
That's why I'm quiet.
For now.
Don't get used to it.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Live, Learn, Love

you were a dream
i had to let go
hopes of my heart
torn from my soul

you took the light
that together we made
left me in darkness
to shame and degrade

you hurt me but
didn't break me inside
smothered my spirit
watched as i died

you didn't notice the ember
a small flickering light
hope burned anew
i held on so tight

and now a new warmth
mending my soul
taking the pieces
making them whole

so you were a dream
i had to let go
through the pain i survived
a new love to show

Blah blah blah

That would be the summation of pretty much everything at this juncture.

I feel like hammered dog crap. That, in itself, certainly isn't conducive to working on NaNoWriMo (eh...under 4000 words so far). It doesn't lend a helping hand for me to ambitiously tackle any other writing project. Hell, I don't even want to get dressed in the morning.
I'm exhausted.
However, knowing myself as I do, this will change. When...would be the kicker. Hopefully soon. So I will blather on about what's going on in my neck of the woods.

Welcome to those who have decided to chance upon my blog and read the ramblings of a quixotic mind. *waving*
Everyone's welcome here. Well, almost everyone. If you're peddling Viagra or something of the sort, you may pass on quietly and take your faux blue pills with you.
I'll be reading the new Christine Feehan book. And also, the new Chelsea Handler. I'll more than likely buy Twilight this weekend because I plan on reading it before I watch it at the movies. THIS is what you get when you have chickens in the house. They dictate what I will have to watch at the theater more often than not. I did, however, get out of watching House Bunny.
I don't watch much reality tv. I think most of it blows. It seems to bring out the REALLY unattractive (re: scheming, manipulative, fucked-up) side of people. I do enjoy The Biggest Loser, though. Or I did. Until this season.
Keep in mind, I have only missed one season. I like to watch the whole transformation of person. It's great. And the finale where you can really see the difference is inspiring.
Bob and Jillian are fantastic. And the contestants are usually personable enough that viewers root for them.
However, there is a bitch from hell this season. And cohort bitch. Really??? They couldn't just have one? Do they do a damn PSYCH eval before casting this show? And if not, then they should seriously look into that.
Vicky is a pathetic, whining, manipulative bitch from hell who makes me want to bitch slap her. There is no redeeming value whatsoever in her. I feel pity for her children, family, and anyone else that happens to be breathing the same air as she does. She's a waste of space. And certainly a waste of my two-hour viewing time.
Heba is quite hideous, too. She must be the center of attention. And if she's not, God forbid, then she draws it back to her. She has a large mouth with very little sense. A great sense of self-importance with no scruples and negligible intelligence.
Both are arrogant and nauseating. These two are ugly on the inside. Too bad Biggest Loser doesn't do personality transplants.
*deep breath*
That's been lurking for awhile. But I didn't want to waste a whole blog about what pathetic pieces of shit they are. Just a couple of paragraphs.
Onwards and upwards.
I have received most of the Christmas list for chickens. That's a good thing. Now we shall see if Santa delivers coal, or if he'll come through with art sets and clothes and minutes for phones. He's pretty good like that.
I shall ask for sanity. But considering my track record, I may as well plan for coal.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Well. That was unexpected.

It seems that the further I ease into the Fall/Winter season, the crankier I become. Maybe I have that seasonal disorder. *shrug*
So I thought that I would break out the Tae-Bo tape, let Billy Blanks whip my ass, and then maybe have a bit of energy and a better attitude.
I actually did the DVD Sunday in the afternoon. The chickens were messing around in one of the bedrooms, and I told OC to totally ignore the heavy breathing and blatant cursing coming from the living room. But if either of these stopped--to call 911.
She agreed.
So I did the whole damn DVD. Wasn't that bad. And so, in my infinite all-or-nothing personality wisdom, I decided I would get up an hour early Monday morning and continue the trend.
Keep in mind, I always told myself that I would do this only to smack the hell out of my alarm clock, reset it, and continue to sleep.
I would make it happen this time.
Monday morning rolls around, the alarms goes off, I struggle to a sitting position and turn off the alarm. A new sense of purpose rose in me. By God!!! This WOULD be the morning I'd actually do the damn DVD to start my day.
I got up, changed my clothes, and proceeded to the living room.
Forty minutes later, OC stumbles out of her room and raises her eyebrow. "What are you DOING?" she asks with a glance at the television screen.
"Exercising," I squeeze out between asthmatic-sounding puffs.
"Psycho," she mutters and proceeds to take her early morning shower.
I finish the DVD. Do a quick "Rocky" dance. Take my own shower. Start my day.

I felt. Like. Shit.
From about ten o'clock on. Screw a bunch of those perky pain in the ass exercisers who get up at the buttcrack of dawn. YOU'RE the psychos. That's all I'm saying. In fact, I haven't felt that bad in I don't know when.
Obviously, my biorhythms or genetic make-up prohibits me from pulling this again.
I DRUG myself home last night and freaking collapsed on the couch in the living room. I wasn't sore. I was tired and apathetic.
Wasn't pretty, my friends.
So no pre-dawn exercising for me. All my best intentions...blown to hell by feeling utterly like shit when I followed through.
Lesson learned.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Red and blue make purple

I hate politics. I hate the dirty underhanded bullshit some politicians pull in the name of whatever it is they tell themselves. So I'm highly glad that the races are over (including the local stuff), and we can move on.
Or so I thought.
I watch KFOR here. It's the NBC Affiliate. First of all, BOTH major news anchors were sure to wear their lovely red outfits for the voting night newscast. *eye roll* Not so subtle. And then they referred to the democratic party as "those democrats." Me=not stupid. But neither am I pleased at this point in time.
And apparently (this was included in LAST night's newscast) Oklahoma was the ONLY state in the Union where ALL the counties voted for McCain.
I'm registered Democrat. I voted Democrat.
And as I looked at the polling places here in town, it wasn't like it was a freaking blowout. Not hardly. There were a lot of close races.
So I have GOT to take a stand on this one and simply say...Who gives a DAMN if some of Oklahoma's population voted for McCain? Who gives a flying hell if he won all 77 counties?
The race is OVER. *tapping screen* Ya hear me???
Obama is President Elect.
Deal with it.
And the red and blue make purple?
That's this blue girl in a red state having a fit of apoplexy.
Thank you for your support.
I'm Crystal Inman, and I approve this message.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Ya know, I'm not much for cloning. But I could certainly use about three of me this weekend.

I had yesterday off, and so did the girls. I hear Fate laughing now.
So off we go to shop and pay bills and ogle hot people and yell out the window at passersby and crank the radio so loud the van vibrated and walk roughly sixteen hundred miles at the local mall.
I had the first two on my list. Apparently the girls covered the rest of them.
Let's just say it was a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG day. Because just when we finished shopping, it was time to head back to the house to ready ourselves for the school's Fall Carnival.
And when we finished getting ready, off to the school we went. Now. The school is a small one. Which I like and dislike. And the Fall Carnival is always held in the Ag Building. If you have NO idea what an Ag Building no further. You'll have no idea what the hell I'm talking about for the next couple of paragraphs.
We arrive early. Because the chickens are all about getting there early and then promptly checking everyone else out. There were hardly ANY kids dressed up. SERIOUSLY~!
The girls became disillusioned, and I was irritated. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
But I sucked it up and moved on. The carnival started at 6:30 pm. Supposed to end at 9:30 pm, I believe.
But I had to leave around nine and take MC to a friend's house to spend the night for a Halloween party. So I leave OC and BC there and shuffle off MC into the night. Then I head BACK to the glorious Ag building to watch the heiney end of the festivities and prepare for clean-up.
Let me explain something. ALL monies raised from the carnival go to the separate classes for their collective hallowed Senior Trip. That's all good. So everyone is supposed to participate. I get that.
But BC signed up for (or was signed up for-stories vary) the clean-up shift.
I WORK Saturday. And wait! Not only that...I have to go in early because I have to leave work at take Oldest Chicken back to the college so she can get on a bus and go to Dallas to check out the King Tut exhibit.
By the end of last night, I'm a tired, tired girl. But can I sleep? Oh hell no. Not to mention my room is ladybug central. But that's a blog for another time.
As for today, I had to be at work at eight so I could take time to run OC to the college. Then I had to pick up MC and bring her back with me to work. So that was my lunch. Lovely, huh? After work, we will be going grocery shopping. Then I will promptly go home and die. If I'm lucky. pft
Tomorrow will be fetching OC and hearing about her travels. God, and I KNOW there was something else. *tapping finger*
It'll come to me, I'm sure. In the dead of night when I wake with my heart pounding and fear in my eyes.
My golden lining?
I took Monday off with some Comp time. Don't think I'm not hugging THAT thought closely to my chest.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Fired Up!!!

Oh yeah. *grins*
That's me.

I signed up for NaNoWriMo. And I feel goooooooooooood. I've had this four-book series floating around in my head for the past couple of weeks or so. Now is the TIME! I feel it. So I girded (is that a word?) my literary loins and signed right up. There is no backing down. I have committed. And I should be committed. *grins*
November, however, is a pretty good month for me to try and bang out over 50,000 words. That's only slightly over half what I would like the finished product to be, but it sounds absolutely wonderful. This is just the kick in the ass I was looking for.
I am in immersion mode. Researching my characters. Getting a feel for my lovelies. Making nice, so to speak. :)~~
I've also come to realize I'm not Superwoman. Isn't that tragic?
Here I was multi-tasking to beat the band. Making sacrifice upon sacrifice. Grinning and bearing it.
You heard me.
My body's all tense, and I'm betting it's because of the whole "super mode" issue. So my goal, also, this November is to take what I need for myself.
God. Isn't that the hardest? Especially for a Mom. I need to dial down the uber efficiency and realize that I have three children who are more than capable of doing dishes or sweeping a floor. And they do. Don't get me wrong. I simply feel like I have to pick up the slack. So. Obviously I should simply say... SCREW YOU, SLACK!!! You evil malignant guilt trip ass! You've fucked with me for the last time.
*doing a victory dance*
Updates to come.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


Well, it's not her birth TIME. lmao
Because that would be 11:00 pm this evening. After a looooooooooooooooooooong day of labor. Ya hear me?
OC is my first chicken. I wasn't expecting an 8lb 12oz wonder. Nosiree. Not me in my naive motherhood fantasies. OC was the biggest child in the nursery. Sure, there were a set of twins. But then again...there were other single babies. But they simply paled in comparison to OC.
We arrived at the hospital extremely early in the morning. I remember the nurse testing the fluid to make sure my water broke. And that I just didn't wet myself.
Now, keep in mind, I'm an amateur. But I was damn sure I didn't wet myself. *eye roll*
Being first, I had first choice option for birthing room. Go me!!! And I picked the largest corner room with pretty decor. I wanted OC to arrive in style. She did.
After three stadiol shots. Two epidurals. And several hours of watching my graph lines spike and their brilliant father exclaim..."Here comes another one!"
She was such a good baby. On schedule. Easy to potty train. Smart as hell. A memory that amazed many a teacher. Girl has it going on. *nodding*
Happy Birthday, Baby!!!
Love you!
(btw, OC has had a major hair cut since this picture was taken in August. I'll try and post a newer version later)

OLA Convention

I've been asked to speak at the Annual OLA (Oklahoma Library Association) Convention in April 2009!!! I am SO excited! *dancing*
(Note: My numerous exclamation points. heh)

I attended in 2007 and enjoyed the author panels immensely. And now I'm going to be ON one? HOLY COW!!! *dancing some more*
Plans will firm up in about a month. Then I'll know who I'll be joining and all that good stuff. But for now?
I'm dancing.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Inside an author's head

What goes on up there, anyway?
Does Nora dream of Roarke? Is her husband jealous? Is Lora Leigh engineering the next hot hero? Is Stephen King wondering what darling to murder in his latest novel? Is Mary Janice Davidson shoe shopping so she knows EXACTLY which pair Betsy will drool over in her next installment? Is Jill Monroe pondering her next popular Author Talk, sucking down a Sonic soda, or pondering her next sexy book? Is Tori feeling good today? Or is she as disgusted as I am with the cold weather? Is Rene going to do NaNoWriMo again? Will she WIN again? Is Lyvvie throwing together an uber awesome Bento? Or is she about to kill a couple of guys who are helping with the new kitchen?
As for me...
Will MC remember to get all her homework she missed Friday because she was sick? Will there be three hours of homework awaiting me when I arrive home? Will it get above 37 today??? Why can't I get "If I drown, will you drop the charges?" out of my head? (Blame this on a weird ass dream I had right before I woke up. It's humorous, if a bit macabre.) Should I bring my notebooks in and type up my notes for my next four-book series? Will my review for One Enchanted Evening be in the next Romantic Times issue? Should I be working on SWTWC or WATS right now instead of rambling on about the nonsense between my ears?

Friday, October 24, 2008


I have to go home in thirteen minutes to six teenage girl children.
Oldest Chicken's birthday isn't until Tuesday, but she is having friends over tonight. I assured her that they would be dropped off at their collective homes at noon tomorrow.
You know...instead of trying to ignore (and failing miserably) several teenage girls...I should be out kicking up my heels. *grins*
Shaking that ass. Imbibing a few cocktails (or more than a few). But I find myself going out less and less.
And let me say, it wasn't a whole lot of times to begin with.
I think I need to go out in November. Snag an evening and shake it by its collar. Bend it to my will. See what happens. Become reacquainted with Captain Morgan. hehehe
But for now...

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Librarian Female Archetype and the Boy Catalog

Some lovely somebody found my blog through searching the words "Librarian Female Archetype." Now. I'm curious as to what the "librarian archetype" would be?
Tight ass bun on the back of woman's head? High ruffled collar buttoned up to throat? Pencil skirt with sensible black loafers?
Screw. That.
I'm a Librarian Female. *grins* And never a bun has touched the back of my head. I don't like things on my throat. And I've never worn a damn pencil skirt in my life.
I am, in fact, wearing my black bondage sandals. LOL
The answer to your unasked question is...NO. I'm not into that lifestyle. But that's what my black shiny strappy shoes remind me of. (Guess we all know what I think about a majority of the time.) And during the warmer months I go sleeveless where one of my tattoos shows. ALL of the customers love it. I've received compliments from kids up to the elderly.
Librarian archetype?
Bite me.

Now for the boy catalog. It seems to me with all the hormonal teenage girls running around in my home that I should have SOME say as to who they will eventually procreate with. I'm just saying. :)~~
There's a certain boy who I think would make great son-in-law material. *whistling*
He's smart. Noticed I did something with my hair. And likes Middle Chicken. He's obviously three for three.
I suppose I'll bide my time on this one. MC seems to become highly perturbed when I don't refer to this boy by name but simply..."my future son-in-law."

Friday, October 17, 2008


Someday, I will look back on this blog's archives and wonder how in the hell I didn't lose my mind in October.
But I digress.
Middle Chicken's birthday is Monday. She will be fourteen. *sigh* Yeah. Fourteen. Sheesh.
They're on Fall Break right now. I took off half a day yesterday to have MC's hair done. Also got some highlights for myself. *grins* I'm shameless like that.
Anyway...MC decides she wants blond hair (she's strawberry blond) with black tips and pink bangs.
And let it be so.
Yeah. Seriously. And it rocks. :)~~
So let's take a walk down memory lane with MC.
First, she could not have been completely more opposite as a baby (and now...for those keeping track) than OC. OC is a morning person. MC can sleep until three in the afternoon on weekends. OC will wear whatever and whenever. MC accessorizes.
I'm not exaggerating.
MC is a creative force with all sorts of ideas and thoughts racing through her head at the speed of light, I'm quite sure. She's a mixture of so many opposites that it's hard to pin her down.
She can be inconsiderate but then go out of her way to do something nice for someone. She can be snarky *whistling* but then cry over a commercial. (She assures me the ceiling leaks. *eye roll*)
She's smart as hell but struggles with her academics occasionally.
MC is brilliant and off-kilter.
That's why I love her so.
Happy Birthday, baby.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Page 113

I warned her. She can't say I didn't.
OC decided to do a book report on "One Enchanted Evening." *smile*
And it's comparatively mild to other books I've written. I gave the thumbs up.

OC will be in therapy for years to come, my friends.
She comes home Thursday waving the book around and saying "Page 113! I had to quit reading. I think I'm scarred for life."
I, of course, am rolling.
I explain that it's a romance. These things happen. She asks if they will happen again. Yes, I reply. At least once more. I grin. Possibly twice.
OC appears to consider fainting but sucks it up.
Not only does the infamous Page 113 circulate amongst my children, apparently it also circulates to the girls' friends at school.
"She ached for him"? OC demanded. She shudders. "Eww."
I reply, they are adults. They ache. Get over it.
MC chimes in and wonders how I know these things.
An eerie silence falls over the entire living room.
"I don't want to know!" They scream in unison.

Tickle me

When I laugh, I am defenseless. Utterly wrapped up in whatever deliciousness tickled me in the first place. Tears stream. Noses snort. It's a helluva good time.
That's how I spent my weekend.

My girls have wicked senses of humor. And even though I am extremely unfond of their father, the man did have a great sense of humor. The girls are doubly blessed.

I let the girls watch "Knocked Up". Yep, I did. And there are a couple of extremely funny scenes in there. Plus, it has a fantasic ending. In redeemed itself. But I digress.
In one of the scenes the characters catch pink eye from each other. If you've seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about.
This rapidly spins out of control when MC tells OC that she's going to give her pink eye. Then she looks over at me and says the same. I inform her that I better NEVER end up the pink eye and that even if OC did it, I would blame MC.
She is aghast.
She's spouts wouldn't know WHO did it.
Then I tell them that I'd get a DNA sample. But by this time I'm laughing so hard that I can barely breathe, much less retort.
Let's just say that it took me half an hour to regain any sort of composure. The chickens can attest to that.

Also wrote a buttload on my next four book series.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

The Write Stuff

Okay. It has a high cheese factor, but I am feeling GOOD!!!

And I've come to realize that I MUST multi-task/write. I can't simply work on one book and be well with it. Just doesn't happen.
When I wrote Earth Goddess, I always had WATS in the wings. Which, by the way, is over HALFWAY finished! Can I get a "Woo Woo"?

Then when I finished Earth Goddess and picked WATS back up, I realized I needed something else to work on. So out came SWTWC. Which I am DIGGING!
And since I have strong masochistic tendencies, I've also started notes on my next four book series.

And I haven't hit a block or a wall or anything. I'm trucking along writing my stuff which I'm enjoying the hell out of. It's fantastic.
Literary bliss.
*shaking my ass to and fro*
It's THAT good.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Holy shit. Twenty years.

My high school reunion people have their own MySpace. And today they blogged about our twentieth reunion and tentative date.


Yeah. That deserves caps. Isn't that crazy? I mean, I KNOW twenty years has passed. Or at least my body does. Hell, I have a child in high school and two in middle school. So it's not like I pulled a Rip VanWinkle these past two decades.

But twenty years.

It's hard to wrap my mind around. Extremely surreal.
Once upon a time, I thought I'd never graduate. Then I did. I thought I'd never get married. Then I did. I thought I'd never have children. Then I did. And knocking on forty?
I have it together a hell of a lot better than I did two decades ago.

Shawnee's Twentieth High School Reunion???
Bring it on.

Saturday, October 04, 2008

Oldest Chicken thinks I'm crazy

BC had three friends over last night after school to partake of cake and act like crazy women. SIX teenage girls at my house yesterday.
The cats were smart. They got the hell out of Dodge.
Me? I wrote 3000 words on SWTWC. Woo!
That worked out to around six or seven pages. Then I had a short scene that I needed to write.

I decided to ask OC to give it a gander and see what she thought. Keep in mind...NO ONE reads my mss before they're done. Not because I'm some control freak who can't let anyone see unfinished work. Nope. No one wants to read them. So I simply work on them until they're done. Edit. Edit some more. Submit. That simple.
But I just had the URGE for someone else to read what I wrote. OC agreed.
There were a couple of iffy parts. LMAO
I forget that there were references to sex in one part of a dialogue.
So OC finishes, and I ask her...what did you think of B, the hero? I personally think he's a bit of an ass. And told her that I didn't think he would be like that.
OC looks at me and says...well, that's a bit freaky. Don't you KNOW what he's like?
Not really. Parts of him, of course. Others? Nope. A mystery to you and me both.
So it bothered me. I'm nothing, if not a dweller.
And on the way to work this morning (yeah, I had to work on Saturday. Doesn't that just blow?), I realized that he's a bit like one of my favorite movie characters.
Ah. Gotcha.
And suddenly I see the light at the end of the tunnel and note the direction said character will take.
Makes me happy.
For now.

Thursday, October 02, 2008


Yes. *grins*
It's true.
The baby chicken was born at 8:11, thirteen years ago today, at the hospital in Moreno Valley, California.
Let's see.
I remember being in labor for hmmmmmm...two days. Yeah. That was nine kinds of fun. And the little chicken's water didn't break. Which, in itself, seems rather odd to me. Here Oldest Chicken's and Middle Chicken's water both broke at 5 am on a Thurs. I kid you not.
So I was expecting something similar.
And I say HA again.
So I lay there having these nice contractions. Okay, I was all bunched up and not happy at all with life. Anyway...the doc didn't want to give me any meds because we didn't know if my water was ever going to break.
It didn't.
So when the doc (an old Army doc, actually) came on call for the morning, he came in and took care of the breaking water business. I immediately went into "I'm having this baby right now!!!" mode. They give me a pain shot *snort*, and I remember looking at the clock on the other wall. He broke my water at around five til eight. At 8:11 am, Baby Chicken entered the world.
The pain medicine had NOT kicked in. That's all I'm saying. Because I remember BC popping out, and I looked up at the clock where the hands were blurring. The pain med was finally in effect.
Thank the patron saint of childbirthing (whoever that may be) that BC was the smallest of the three.
She was a cute little booger, no doubt.
Now she's this beautiful long-haired redhead. Time flies.
Love you!

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

It's all cosmetic

You're the stylist. You realize that, right?
You decide what the character wears. From the shade of his/her skin to hair to make-up to clothing to body style and shape.
No pressure, right?
This can be a tricky proposition. Do you make your hero/heroine physically foils for each other? Do you match them? How about the builds? Him slight? Her curvy?
You have a million options!!!
One caveat, in my opinion. Do NOT make caricature characters. The ditzy blond with big boobs and no IQ. The jock with more muscles than sense.
Just ewww.
Each character is unique such as each person is unique. Strive to be different yet true to your character's voice. Physical appearance is often extremely telling in the story. And that can be a lot of fun.
Okay my example for the day: Ewan McGregor
Study the two pictures at the top of my blog.
The one on the left is hot. I gotta go with that. The one of the right is certainly not. I think he was attractive in the Star Wars flicks but watched Deception, hope that's the right name, the other night, and he looked like a pre-Spiderman Peter Parker. ugh
Same guy.
Different hair and threads.
Amazing, huh?
I was going to post Hugh Jackman as Wolverine and then Leo in Kate and Leopold. But I was afraid I'd be too distracted to post.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Secondary Characters

I like secondary characters. They're a nice cushion to the story for me. The only problem with a secondary character lies in ego. When he/she gets altogether too big for his/her literary britches, there must be a "Come to Jesus meeting."

Most secondary characters realize their importance in your story. They are content to listen to hero/heroine bitching-whining-moaning-sexual exploits. It's fun. Kinda like therapy. They do their thankless job and then mosey on back to whatever it is they do besides occupy a story.
But not ALL of them.
Every once in awhile, you have a secondary character that stands up and gives his/her version of the "I Have a Dream Speech."
"When you took on the responsibility to write a book, you were signing a promissary note to all characters herein. This note was a promise to all characters that we would be given certain unalienable rights such as life, liberty, and the pursuit of our own story arc. I have a dream that all characters are created equal. And I live in hope for the day that you finally find me Mr./Mrs. Right with a modicum of headaches."
If this character waits until my other story is almost finished or, I WISH, completely finished, then said character and I will sit down together and discuss business. If this character interrupts every scene I attempt to write by showboating and upstaging my main character(s), then there are issues.
What to do. What to do.
This can be tricky territory for a beginning writer. Or a writer with a series.
A beginning writer will spazz smooth out most times because...My God! Not only do you have one story to write, you now possibly have two. Simmer, JohnBoy. A beginning writer writes one story at a time. Start multi-tasking when everything else is smooth.
Series writers have a delicate operation to perform. Put secondary character(s) in the flow of the story without disrupting the main storyline. Tricky, my friends, tricky.
If you feel like you've veered off the main path and are now skipping down another trail holding hands with a secondary character while they bend your ear...GO BACK!!! Cease and desist. Shake free and RUN back to the main road.
You're the author. You don't get to meander.
Once again...LISTEN. It is honestly the best advice I can give any writer.
If Mr. SnappyPants continually butts into your writing flow and whines about his own story, set him straight. If he's really an annoying ass, jot down basics but do NOT push your main story aside.
Characters are pushy.
Sometimes ya gotta break out the whip and the chair.
Of course, with some of my books, they kinda like it.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

I'm not a jackass. The author wrote me that way.


I know we've all read characters that we would love to bitch slap. Myself included. They're infuriating. Arrogant. Conceited. Sorry pieces of work.
But can they change?
That's a bit of a loaded question now, isn't it?

I don't redeem a Too Stupid To Live character. *grins* Because I don't put any in my books. If you want fluff, go pick up a kitty from the pound. And if you want a vapid idiot with a blank look 0n her face, watch a Macy's ad with Jessica Simpson. (That was for you, Tori. *grins*)
Eye candy is great. Eye candy with an IQ less than his shoe size with a personality that's completely below his belt is just fucked up.
Moving on.

However, if you have a "wounded" hero, or an emotionally stunted hero (and I'm so not going there right now)...then you have possibilities. If you can engage a reader deep enough into this character's psyche and thought process, you've won. If you can wring a laugh or tear from a reader with this character, you've won. But if you only scratch the surface of this villainistic (is that a word?) character, then you've done the character and the reader a disservice.
Readers are voyeuristic.
I don't need to know that Mr. Emotionally Stunted man wears blue boxer briefs. But I do want to know what has made him into the person he is today. What happened to him? Sit him down on the mental couch in your therapist office cranium and let him speak. Will he open up to you?
This is big.
If you can open up this character and listen while he tells you of past tragedies and scars that he has, you've found a winner. If the arrogant prick simply looks at you and suggests making better use of your office table, move on.
It takes all kinds. Remember that.

If you place the sorriest piece of shit character in your book, you've lost. Keep in mind I'm talking about Romance here. I believe that these asshat characters are alive and well and living the high life in other genres.
The main story of any romance is love. Simply love. If I want to take an ice pick to a character's fictional heart, there's a problem. If every time I see the character, my blood pressure rises and not in a good way, there's a problem.

Look at the character. If he/she adds something to the story, keep him/her. If, however, you're wondering what in the hell possessed you...get rid of the character! My GOD! You're the AUTHOR. Don't ever forget it.
Next up:
I know you're the author. Now write me my own damn story.
Secondary characters with ego issues.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Progress and possibilities

First things first. I edited Earth Goddess this weekend. *grins* YAY!
I also wrote 6000 or thereabouts on WATS. That's puts me a little over half way. Love that.

But I have other things on my mind today. Mostly characters.
What makes a good character? How do characters fit together? What happens when you have an obnoxious ass of a character and then you must redeem him/her? What happens when a secondary character fairly screams for a book of his/her own?

Let's start with this basic fundamental idea: A good character is a REAL character. Not someone who is completely good or bad. Not some stupid caricature of what you think a character should be. The character must be as real to you as your own friends. Because, in fact, he or she certainly is or will soon be extremely important to you.
You two must talk one-on-one. You must cut through the bullshit with a blowtorch and find what makes that character tick. You and your character may hate the process. Too damn bad. Do it anyway. Be the therapist. Listen to what the characters says. Even the unspoken.
How do you picture the character? Freeze that image in your mind. What do you notice? What stands out to you? Take that. All of it. And remember it.

Throw two characters in a scene together and let the good times roll. Or the furniture fly. Either way. It's been said by many that if your hero is a fireman, let your heroine be an arsonist or varying variations on that. I say pft. And you can quote me.
That may make for some interesting conversations. And probably some dynamic external conflict, but let's face it. Is that all ya got?
Characters come in every flavor under the sun. You can have the Alpha. Which, holy shit, the Alpha Hero is HAWT. *fanning self* But he can also come off as an asshole. The Alpha Heroine is bold. That can translate into "bitch" fairly easy. Then you have the Betta Hero. He's the "get along-go along" type guy. Laid back and all that.
And I've read that there is a Gamma Hero which nicely combines the two.
This ties into my whole black/white theory. PEOPLE are complex!!! Alpha men do not drag their collective knuckles on the ground and gnaw on a turkey leg. Okay. Some might. But you know what I mean.
A man and a woman thrown together in any given situation will have his/her own opinions, actions, and feelings. The fun part is watching it unfold.
Two Alphas would be like watching Maddy Hayes and David Addison (God, I loved Moonlighting. Remember the spin-off from Taming of the Shrew?) right before they (finally) got horizontal. She slapped him. He slapped her. Then they got to rolling around on the ground. And it was hot. Because there was so much verbal foreplay and tension built up between the two of them.
Throw your two main characters into a lovely locked room in your head. I know you have a couple empty rooms open. All writers do. Then watch from the two-way mirror. What happens? Does she scuff her toe while he paces? Or do they work together to figure out what's going on? WATCH THEM. Take it all in. And then use that. If they don't fit, then let them go. Or sequester them in a different place until you can find his/her better half. Don't force a coupling simply because you think they would be "perfect."
That's exactly my point.
Perfect doesn't exist.
Not here. And it shouldn't exist there, either.
Next blog: Asshole Characters. Kill them or redeem them?

Thursday, September 18, 2008

It started again.

Yes. It.
The creativity which flows from my poor tired cranium.

Let me explain something about my lovely self. The first thing, the VERY first thing, I have for my book is the title. Then I fill in the details.
Is that laughter I hear out there???
Told you I was backwards. lmao

So I'm at work pondering the nature of the cosmos and what grenadine really is when it hits me.
Four new titles. In a series.
*considering doing harmful things to myself with the nearest paper clip*
I swore when I finished the Elemental Guardian series that I would never NEVER do that again.
More laughter?
You sadistic buttheads.

It's messed up. Seriously. That's all I'm saying. But here I am editing Earth Goddess (Book 4), and I LOVE that book. My editor loves that book. Can you see the sunshine and hear the birds sing? I'm not KIDDING!!!

I'm likening this to childbirth.
After I had the Oldest Chicken (all 8 lbs and 12 ozs of her)...I looked up at her dad and said, "We're only having one."
Yeah. Two more daughters later...
Because you forget!

Sure it hurt like hell. You don't think you're ever going to be done. There are no drugs good enough for this, I swear. But in fact...Baby Chicken's water didn't break. And I was in labor. So about 11 minutes after the doc broke my water (after two days, I shit you not)...out came BC. And no. The answer to your question would be...the fucking stadiol had NOT kicked in yet. But she was only 6 lbs 5 ozs.

Wow. Went off on a Mama tangent there, didn't I?

So to sum up:
I have another idea for a four book series.
I obviously have issues about childbirth and lack of good drugs.
I cannot freaking BELIEVE that I did this to myself.

Carry on.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Crossing genres and pissing readers off

Sometimes these two items walk hand in hand. The cause-and-effect can leave a nasty little taste in the readers' mouths.

When a reader picks up a romance...they want happily-ever-after.
When a reader picks up a thriller...they want a nice game of cat-and-mouse.
When a reader picks up a horror...they want nightmares.

A reader will know what they want when they pick up the book. Books that cross genres are subject to being tossed at the wall and generally defamed and defiled on discussions--IF the reader does not receive what he/she expected when he/she picked the book up.
There is much of a fuss about J.R. Ward's books. Some, okay many, say that she's gone the way of dark, urban thriller type. Some readers don't care for the graphic sex (and sometimes a little bdsm) that goes with the story. And I will readily admit that her HEA's are a bit iffy.
I'm picking on J.R. for one reason. I read her books. In fact, my dearest one gave me the entire set for Christmas. heh
Okay. I'm simply saying that a ghost/vampire relationship can be a bit iffy. I can understand Rhage's story because Mary can't have kids. It was sort of a trade-off for the Scribe Virgin.
No problem.
I loved Butch and Marissa's story. Even with the homosexual overtones from V. *shrug* No big deal. Then we have Phury and his multitude of Chosen Ones at his house. Lord love the man. Or pity him. Too bad he gave up the red smoke, huh?
To Rhev. And the Princess. And all the sick, twisted shit she makes him do to get off. The scenes are graphic. But I know it's not about love/sex. It's about control. They fight for it. And it can be pretty fucking ugly.
Sometimes I wonder if J.R. has let the romance go a bit in order to go darker with the BDB's stories. I've hung so far because I have time invested in the Brothers. They are as real to me as my own characters. I haven't quite reached that point where I will call it quits and look for someone else to appease my Paranormal Romance wants.
Not. Quite. Yet.
Stephen King writes horror. Though I wager some would be surprised at the romance in his books. Yeah, I said it. ROMANCE in a Stephen King book. But that's extra. I read his books to savor the magnificence of his storytelling. I don't look for a HEA. In fact...get this...he LOVES to kill off at least ONE major character. He does it all the time. But I take that with a grain of salt because I know I'm not reading his book for warm fuzzies.
So I offer up a bit of a warning here. Be careful if you try to cross genres. It's kind of like Ghostbusters (Yeah. I'm pulling an eighties movie out of my mind vault. So when you find yourself humming the theme to "Ghostbusters" and craving marshamallows later...don't blame me.). If you cross the don't know what you're going to get.
Please...for the love of NOT tell me it's a romance if it's not. Don't lead your readers to your book with promises that you can't or won't keep. There's truth in advertising. Believe me.
Your readers will thank you for it.
ADDENDUM: I don't want to come off like I'm saying that crossing genres is bad necessarily. But it's when you deviate from your original genre and spiral toward can keep your balance, or you can forsake what brought readers to you in the first place. It's a consideration.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

I had no idea

Over a decade ago, I gave birth to three lovely girls. A year apart. Every October.
I didn't have a clue. I had not thought ahead to when the three babies would be thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. I had not thought ahead to the advent of said children absolutely dying for a cell phone. Or a car. Or college.
Oh no. Not me. Didn't give it a second thought.
But think about this...I carried a diaper bag around for five years. I was pregnant 1993, 1994, and 1995. During the summer. I had two children in diapers for four years in row. It was a love/hate relationship with Luvs. You get the picture.

I thought life was good when I gave up the diaper bag. I bought a little bitty purse that would barely hold a pack of cigarettes. Not that I smoked at the time. I didn't. But it was so nice to downsize into something I couldn't fit a small child into.

Baby Chicken will turn thirteen in 3 weeks. Oldest Chicken will turn sixteen next October. Middle Chicken is all over me about getting her a cell phone.
Me? I'm just trying to keep us in feminine products.
Just saying.

And not only are there BIG items that I just didn't have a clue or chose to ignore...there are small items.
The television for example. When the girls were young, I would watch Barney six times a day. This is NOT an exaggeration. I even took them to go see the big purple guy when he was at the State Fairgrounds doing a show. I have watched a two hour VHS tape of Gumby. My brain cells fought the good fight but eventually gave up the ghost and died. It was one of the most mindnumbing experiences of my life.
My point? I made SACRIFICES!
That's what we Moms do.

But now the girls are more than happy to try and impose their television watching will on me.
Color me displeased.
As I was bitching to Tori about the other day...I didn't watch 90210 the first time around. Why in the hell would I want to watch The Next Generation??? Middle Chicken likes Gossip Girl. They watched Privileged last night.
I am DYING here!
Wasn't it enough that I gave til it hurt with Barney and Gumby?
Apparently not.

The only trade-off's football season.
Guess who has control of the tv on Sundays?
You better believe it.
Are you ready for some football?
And you Chickens...ready or not-here it comes.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

It's that time again...

I can't stay away from my bag of candy corn!!!
Look at all that waxy sugar in fall colors! Who could refuse all that??? lmao

So tell me. What's your Halloween weakness? God knows the stores already have the candy lining the shelves.
OC loves snickers. MC loves anything sour. Warheads will do. And BC love Reese's.
I'm usually not that into the sugar, but you wouldn't be able to tell today.

Different but the same

I'm a different type of woman. I enjoy ballet, opera, and the UFC. It's all poetry in motion to me.
So I was saddened to hear about Evan Tanner passing. He was only 37. That's a hell of a short life.
One year older than I am.
Ok. Five months older. *smile* If you want to nitpick.

It simply goes to show that nothing is guaranteed. There is no money-back clause anywhere. He or She who dies with the most toys doesn't win. It just leaves those left behind something to fight about.

And that brings me to something else I've been pondering over lately. I have taken up poetry again. I usually only pick it up when my emotions are chaotic, and I look to sort things through. But I've found that I enjoy the self-expression that poetry affords me.
Romance writing comes from my heart.
Poetry comes from my soul.

So rest assured my lovely blog readers. I'm still the same prolific and snarky chick as always. The introspection doesn't change me. It simply lets you see another side.


Saturday, September 06, 2008

Not a day wasted

sometimes I see the clouds
sometimes I see the sun

sometimes I hold it all together
sometimes I come undone

sometimes I cry to my depth
sometimes I laugh with all my soul

sometimes I clench it tightly to me
sometimes I simply let it go

sometimes I know the reason
sometimes it's so unclear

sometimes I stand unwavering
sometimes I'm simply lost in fear

sometimes I think I'm getting it right
sometimes I fear that all is wrong

sometimes I'm weak with thoughts of worry
sometimes I realize that I am strong

sometimes I wonder with days that pass
fragile as snowflakes
sharp as glass

then I take a deep breath and let it go
each day I live
is a day I grow

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

What did I do this Labor Day weekend?

I wrote.

Now most of you are nodding your collective heads and thinking...of COURSE you did.
But here's the stunner: I wrote 10,000 words each Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.
And why in the world would I do that?

Because I'm a procrastinating goober.

I've known that I had to get my rear in gear for Earth Goddess. I didn't have to struggle with the story like I did Wind Goddess. That wasn't it. But all the outside influences of my life, and they are NUMEROUS, totally shut down the creative juices.
Write while my ulcer flares and burns? Eh. No.
Write while I ponder how in the hell I'm going to pay my electric AND put propane in the tank? Not so much.
Write while dodging calls from school administration informing me that Middle Chicken has gotten into hot water? I was seeing red. How was I supposed to write?
Write while dealing with two exes? Are you SHITTING me???

I postponed and put off. Watched the calendar tick day after day away. It was slightly terrifying.
So that prompted my writing marathon. And can I say that I wrote over a thousand words an hour?
The story was more as if I were transcribing than putting it together.
It was fantastic.
I laughed. I cried. I LOVE this story!!!
The girls played a new PS2 game all weekend. I would look up from my writing business and root them on or give them hell...whichever the time called for.

This Labor Day weekend I wrote. I wrote 30,000 words and finished Earth Goddess with a smile a mile wide and pumping fists.

If I can bottle that goodness for WATS.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Every once in awhile

Every once in awhile I want to be built up for who I am
instead of torn down for who I'm not

Every once in awhile I want to hear the whisper
instead of cringing from the shout

Every once in awhile I want to be heard for what I've said and how I said it
instead of being told that I didn't listen even though I was

Every once in awhile I want the sun to shine upon my countenance
instead of the darkness filling in my vision

Every once in a damn while I want to be still
to ponder
to think
to gather
to unfold
to dream
in my own time

Monday, August 25, 2008

Every Woman is a Goddess

That is the premise for my Elemental Guardian Series. There are four books in the series: Fire Goddess, Water Goddess, Wind Goddess, and Earth Goddess.
I turn in the final for Earth Goddess September 2ND. She will be available October 15th.
I've spent a lot of time with these ladies.
Wilda, the Fire Goddess, represents her element well. A legendary temper and fiery red hair. Her mortal, Kelly, has some great laugh aloud lines in the book.
Kendra, the Water Goddess, is the youngest. She is the gentlest of the four. In her story, she comes up against mortal evil which forever alters her and her mortal, Erin. This story still touches me deeply.
Tempest, the Wind Goddess, is an ebony-haired Amazon. I rolled the dice and put three dynamic Alpha characters in one story. Sylvia and Tristan waver between being each other's soul mates and each other's worst enemies. I was more a referee than a writer in that one.
Eden, the Earth Goddess, is the embodiment (in my mind) of every woman. She is the nurturer. The protector. The oldest of the four sisters. The one they look to. But it is a rule she broke many years ago that brings her to her mortal, May.
Without further ado:
May Fairchild was a child actor until a tragic accident cut her dreams, and almost her life, short. She limped away from acting and began a new life for herself. Childish dreams were tucked away, and a new foundation was built. May is set in her ways and believes herself to be in the twilight of her years with no time for romantic nonsense.
When Chandler Hughes moves in next door, May’s world alters. Her young neighbor sees May in a new light. Chandler won’t back down. May won’t give in.
Eden is the Earth Goddess who has already helped May come out of the dark once when all was lost. Can she show her the light again?
Here's the cover. *grins*
Keep it under your hat.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Some of my favorite searches that brought YOU here

hot young women behaving badly pictures
(these are in my private collection. better luck next time)

what's romantic life of Michael Phelps
(you tell me, and we'll both know.)

dominatrix whip

blue collar females with big breasts
(and your point would be?)


1. an episode that is turbulent or highly emotional

I won't lie. I stay away from Drama. I absolutely loathe its existence. Why would I put myself in a situation where my blood pressure rises, my ulcer spews acid, and I develop a migraine?
Answer: I don't.

But for some unknown reason, Drama likes me. Drama wants to be my buddy. You know, hang around. Make its presence known. All that bullshit.
Color me highly displeased.

I only have two major exes. Just two. There's not a long line of past relationships. TWO. K?
One is going to be living next door to me. *massaging temple*
The other has his gf/wife whoever the hell she is...contacting me. This is my ex-husband who left when BC was three months old. Yeah. Almost thirteen years ago. But he would be so "BLESSED" if the girls would contact him.
I'm sure he would.
The girls are fantastic. They're intelligent and beautiful. Can't go wrong there. But my memories of the ex-husband are a lot less pretty. The gf/wife says he's "changed." *massaging temple again*

I wonder if I can get Drama surgically removed from my weary ass.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Shoulda known better

We were watching the Olympics again last night. Rooting on the magnificent Mr. Phelps. Watching interviews with the Ladies' All-Around Winners-Nastia and Shawn. Things of that nature.
Then the commercials rolled.
KFC has been hyping the hell out of their grilled chicken. And every time (Yes! EVERY TIME) the damn commercials come on, Oldest Chicken says, "I want that." I make a mental note. We rock on.
And then Sonic has been showing the Fried Ice Cream Blast commercials. Yeah. FRIED ICE CREAM. The nutritional value is more than likely negligible while the fat content riseth. But I digress.
Every time THAT commercial comes on, Middle Chicken scoots up REAL close to the television and expresses her burning need to have one of those.
Now let me back up.
Sonic started in Shawnee Oklahoma. So I honestly don't know how many of you out there even know what one is. But you can google them. And hey! They have a MySpace. *eye roll*
Nonetheless, they have some of the funniest commercials I have ever watched on television. There are two male friends. A married couple. And two female friends recently have hyped the Fried Ice Cream Blast.
The commercial with the girls (I looked everywhere on the web and couldn't find a link to show y'all) shows both ladies sucking down these blasts and then one says...I want another. Her friend grins and do I. Then they both look guilty and discuss the fact they'll have to change to another lane to order and disguise their voices.
The driver deepens her voice and drawls out..."I want a Fried Ice Cream Blast." Then she puts her finger over her lip (like a moustache) and repeats that to her friend. The passenger smiles and says...Yeah. The moustache works for you. Keep this all in mind. *GRINS*

So KFC pops on another grilled commercial. Once again...I get OC bemoaning the fact that her lips have never touched said grilled chicken. So I gather my purse and keys and look at the girls. I tell them I'm going to KFC. You could've heard a pin drop.
Then the silence was broken by my herd of children scooting to the van so fast I think they broke the sound barrier.
While I was treating them, I told them I would stop by Sonic to get them dessert. Whatever they wanted. MC obviously voted for the Fried Ice Cream Blast. BC likes the strawberry sundaes. OC drinks the Java Chillers. *sigh*
So we pull in, and I'm asking for orders. And then one of the girls--OC or MC--says...I dare you to order like that girl does on the commercials.
Excuse me?
You dare me? Oh really???
So I lean over, push the red button, hold my finger over my top lip and drawl my order for the Fried Ice Cream Blast. The girls are ROLLING!!! And SQUEALING!!! And MC says...I didn't think you'd really do it.
Shoulda known better.
By the way...I didn't indulge in either KFC or Sonic. And I've lost another 14 pounds.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Michael Phelps, Panda Porn, and Falling Down

I'll readily admit it. I don't watch the Olympics religiously every four years. I'm a hit and miss type viewer. However, this year, my chickens were interested, so we gave it a go.
And it's been jaw dropping to say the least.
The girls especially enjoy synchronized swimming and gymnastics. But we've even sat through volleyball, which Oldest Chicken deems "the boringest sport ever." Sorry Kerri and Misty!
We watched Michael Phelps and crew make the French swimmers eat their words. We cheered until we were hoarse when Lezak brought it home. We watched the unflappable Mr. Phelps pile up gold medal after gold medal. And it's simply amazing.
Bob Costas, host extraordinaire, breaks up all the events with little vignettes and pieces about the athletes and the home country. There's a woman who travels about and brings the stories back. Her name is Mary. Nope. Can't think of the last name. Too lazy to google it. You'll just have to take my word for it.
Her last little clip was about the Panda Bears. Aren't they one of the damn cutest bears you've ever seen in your life??? I always wanna pull an Elmira and hug them tight and squeeze them. But these poor creatures were endangered once upon a time, so the Chinese have sanctuaries and breeding grounds. There is a studmuffin bear, Lu Lu (spelling?). He, apparently, gets around the grounds. And if he just so happens to NOT be in the mood, they have panda porn.
They didn't call it that. But seriously. What do you call it when a male "meets" a female, it's taped, and then shown to another male?
I rest my case.
Onto other species being flexible...gymnastics.
I watched the women last night and was a bit disappointed. There was a major fall from the balance beam. It probably cost our team the gold. And that moment shook the entire team up a bit. I will say that Shawn Johnson rocked the hell out of the balance beam, and Nastia did the same on the uneven bars. Ladies, you were magnificent. Bridget only competed in one team event final-the vault. I like her. She reminds me of my girls. So I was seriously rooting her on.
There's still individual medals for the athletes, but the USA brought home the silver team medal. Mishaps and all. Something for us all to be proud of.
Speaking of proud...(See! I'm so much smoother now)...chickens went back to school today. Oldest Chicken is in high school.
*gasp* *wheeze*
It's a late night for me, but when I get home, I'm sure I'll hear all about it.
Wouldn't want it any other way.

Friday, August 08, 2008


I've been a good girl lately. (For the most part.)
I don't kick animals. I'm kind to the elderly and the young. I haven't smothered my children in their sleep. There have been EFFORTS, I'm telling ya.

So. Could someone, ANYONE, explain to me why I deserve to have my ex move in next door to me?
I simply don't understand.

The ex was supposed to be moving 8 miles away. Down another highway. That "fell through."
So the ex bought a trailer. And of all the freakin' land in my rural school district, the ex rents a spot on the other side of my pond.
The other side. Of my fucking pond. I can see the damn driveway.
Get the picture?

So. My new neighbor? Oh yeah. The person I used to love who screwed me over as hard as possible.
I really don't think there will be a housewarming gift.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Weather Pixie Sympathy

My Weather Pixie is a good girl. She stays on my blog 24/7 to notify me of the weather here where I reside.
But lately, the poor dear is being stifled by the Oklahoma heat. You know. Record-setting temps for the past 5 days. 105. 106. All that ickiness.
And I'm thinking...HEY! Give the poor girl a break! Let her shuck the clothes and just put those blurry things on over her naughty bits.
And WP's black cat? I think he/she (because really...I just don't know) should be able to unzip the fur, step out, and kick back on a chaise lounge.
It only seems right.

I thought perhaps the chickie was in revolt yesterday when it was 105, and she was saying it was 79. Large discrepancy there.
I think she was making a point.

Monday, August 04, 2008

Cocky bitch

(ought to be fun seeing all the hits from this one, huh?)

Cocky bitch.
I was called this a couple of weeks ago. What did I do? Laugh, of course. Because it can, sometimes, be true.
I've reached a point in my life that I'm fully aware of my capabilities and my lack of skills and ease in other areas. I don't bullshit and promise I can do something that I most assuredly can't.
Once upon a time...around 15-20 years ago, I was the proverbial door mat. I would bend over backwards for whoever. Whenever.
Those days are long gone, my friend.
I've now come into my own with my confidence and assurance that I like who I am and what I'm capable of.
Sure, it's taken 36 years. But better late than never, right?
Cocky bitch?

Proportionately speaking

I have decided that about forty more pounds or so has to go before the beginning of next year. So far, down four.
Baby Chicken was doing the same plan. But then the other two chickens said they wanted to, also.
The more the merrier.

Now here's my million dollar question: How in the hell did America get so royally fucked up over portion sizes???
Are you freakin' kidding me? I had a 1/2 cup bran cereal this morning with a cup of milk. Rock on. How much do I usually have? Usually twice that. And that's in a LITTLE bowl!
I made meatloaf last night. I usually make a 3-4 lb meatloaf. Just slop that hamburger in there, add some eggs, bread crumbs, a bit of ketchup...bake.
I used ONE pound of very lean hamburger last night and divided the small loaf into fours. I am utterly amazed at the difference a serving makes when you pay attention to it.
All I can say

Middle Chicken decides she's getting on board with this. Keep in mind, please...she's made out of sour candy and hot cheetos. I'm just saying.
So she asks how many points are in a cup of strawberries. I inform her that would be one. So she gets out a cup to measure and looks at me with disbelief.
*insert teenage voice laced with deep disgust* and says..."What in the heck is THIS all about?"
I almost fell off the couch laughing. Because, you see, MC's serving size before was a quart of strawberries. She would rinse them, set them on her lap, and go to town.
Quite an eye-opener.
Wish us luck!

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Mental concussion

I'm really quite tired of butting heads with people.

Baby Chicken has decided that she can pretty much do and say whatever she wishes. And she believes that the world is out to get her, and I'm just a parental witch who is mean, mean, mean.
That's rough, isn't it?
I understand that being twelve is no picnic. Been there. Done that. No, it wasn't a party. But a child does NOT have the right to utterly stonewall EVERYTHING that the parent says or does. Sorry. It doesn't work like that. Nor should it. That would be the point of being the CHILD. Therefore, bed time is early for the next two weeks until school starts. If things don't shape up before then, more drastic measures will be taken.
I hate it.

On the relationship front, I thought there was progress. I think, perhaps, I may have been wrong. Nothing like having someone judge me. Let me just say that it's one of the quickest ways to step all over my nerve and my emotions.
I don't judge. So the option is not out there for others. I don't like it. I won't put up with it.

I'm highly frustrated this evening and seriously just wondering...what the blue fuck???
Send hugs.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

I wanna be Jet Li, and Nora Roberts needs to quit reading my mind.

It may look like two utterly disimilar items, but trust me...these are the two that occupied my head yesterday.

Jet Li. Isn't he just the flippin' coolest? And he seems to be very busy this year with movies. Every time I turn around, there he is. But what really fascinates me about him is that "bored" look he has. I want that. I want to PERFECT that. I'm really wondering if it's the "Gee, I'm so damn good I can kick your ass and not break a sweat" look...or if he's really bored. Everything just seems to roll right the hell off of him. I find it entertaining to say the least. Maybe it's all that martial arts training where he's just so damn mellow because he's trained to be. Or supposedly emotionless in a fight so that his opponent doesn't get an upper hand.
Whatever the case, I love it.
*bored look*

As for Nora Roberts...WOMAN! Quit reading my mind. Seriously. This must cease and desist. *grins*
I didn't even know Nora had another book due out before The Pagan Stone in December. But lo and behold...Tribute arrived at the library Thursday. I, of course, picked it up. It's almost a cross-genre, but that's neither here nor there. The clinker for me is that the heroine was a child actor.
And what is the heroine in Earth Goddess? A child actor!!! Are you kidding me? grrrrrrr
grrrrrrrrr and grrrrrrrrrr some more.
Now. I was only a little irritated when I brainstormed and decided to title books after flowers. And then you did that with Red Lily and that whole series. I've even forgiven you for making Roarke the hottie-delicious-wet dream hero that he is for your JD Robb books. Never mind that I've had that name for a hero since college and even penciled it in my notebooks. Nope. No one can outdo your Roarke.
Because seriously. Rowrrrrrrrrr
I've let bygones by bygones. But Nora...please stay out of my head.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

One Enchanted Evening Review

From Simply Romance Reviews:
Ivy Daniels is your ordinary woman. She fights with the copier at work and plants her gardens, going about her everyday life until she gets an invitation to a party. Not just any party...but one where she magically becomes her favorite fairytale figure, Beauty. She attends the party where every guest is dressed as their favorite character from story and nursery rhyme. She returns home, thinking it was all one big dream but suddenly she finds a gremlin in her copier and fairies in her garden.
Events progress until Ivy is taken back to that enchanted land and finds out all is not well in the land of fairy tales. Crystal Inman gives us the tale of a woman, who prophecy tells will save the land of fairy tales and does a beautiful job of incorporating all of my child hood favorites, from the Old Lady in the Shoe to Snow White. What struck me most about this book was that our heroine, Ivy Daniels was not just a woman who didn't realize how great she was but that she was also not physically perfect. Ivy's self depreciating attitude stems from her slightly rounded belly and not quite perfect hair. It was very refreshing to have a hidden beauty that was truly hidden. I turned page after page, finishing this book in under a day as I followed Ivy on her quest to find out who was destroying the land of dreams. She meets all manner of fairy tale creatures, both good and bad. Her uncertain relationship with the Prince Duncan, while frustrating to the man and at times the reader was true to life and her self image.
If you like fairy tales and long to believe in the world of magic then One Enchanted Evening is definitely the book for you.
~Reviewed by Tonie

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

I had the best time EVAH!!!

Oh yes. It's true. Took off for Iowa and had one of the best times of my life. And most certainly the best time in recent memory.
The drive was around twelve hours with numerous bathroom breaks and whatnot. Left at 5:00 am Thursday morning. I am sooooooooooooo not a morning person. Arrived around 5:30 pm that evening. It really wasn't that bad.
Arrived at the hotel. Said hello to K. *grins*
Unloaded the mega van. And thank God it IS a van. Because I swear to one and all that all our stuff would NOT have fit in something smaller.
So not kidding about this one.
We settle in. Grab some pizza. Chill out. The girls go and swim. And did I mention that the hotel had an indoor pool? Oh yeah. Baby chicken was all about the water.
K and I caught up. It was absolutely lovely. I'm mentally unfit to carry on any further conversation...I fall asleep. Further events from that night will not be discussed due to their delicate nature.
Friday, we went to the zoo in Illinois. Watched "Journey to the Center of the Earth" in 3D glasses. I think we ate at Applebee's that night. Saturday was shopping and watching "Wanted." That movie is a little iffy, but the girls enjoyed it. Great action. I'm all about the HEA. And it sort of had one, but not really. Ya know? "Journey" was fantastic!!! The girls said a couple of times they actually had to take their glasses off. *snickering*
Yeah. It was THAT real.
Oh! And btw, the BIG theater here in town is an eight. You can have eight movies showing at once. The one we went to in Iowa had EIGHTEEN!!!
I look at the monster building and mutter...Holy crap. That is soon echoed by Oldest Chicken as she glances out her window and sees what I see. It's a HUGE building. All flashy and pretty inside.
Quite excellent.
And we go shopping. And it's a lot of fun, but holy criminey I am TIRED!!! But the chickens are eating it up. They get new clothes and school stuffs and all that.
Spoiled, I tell ya. Flat spoiled.
I'll try and post pictures sometime later. I don't have them on this computer.
But all in was the best thing I've done in quite some time for myself and more than worth everything I did to get there.
Already planning my next one.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Who's going on vacation? Oh yeah!!! That would be me me me!!!


Will this summer ever end? Not bloody likely. *groan* We've been busier than hell at work. Nerves are frayed. People are just so damn tired, and we're so freakin' busy!
How long has it been since Crystal has been on a vacation?
So. Me and the chickens are headed up to the Northeast. I'm a tad bit freaked out (scared shitless) because I've been west but navigated in that general direction. *sigh* And I'm directionally impaired. *double sigh*
But I can't wait to get there!!! Going to be visiting and hanging out with a marvelous friend and kindred spirit.
Leaving early tomorrow morning and will be back on Sunday!
Don't do anything I wouldn't do.
Um...never mind.



That's all you hear here in Oklahoma. Cricket is coming. It's a new phone place. Half the price of its competitors. So I'm thinking...have to check that out. I drop in Saturday evening a little after five.
I don't need a phone, but I wanted to get the modem so that I could have broadband/high speed yada at my home in the sticks.
So I go in and pay $145 dollars. That was a $35 activation fee, a month of service, and something else. It escapes me.
For took forever. And no. I'm not being facetious. There were two chicks there. One was busy talking to her friends on the phone while the other fumbled through my order and looked at my blankly. Frequently.
The chick with more experience told me that if I returned the modem in one day, that I could have a full refund. If I returned it in two-three days, I could have the $110 back but not the activation fee.
I'm well with that.
So I get the modem home. Pop the CD that came with it in my laptop. And all is well. Until I try to activate it.
It wouldn't activate.
I become frustrated. So I call Customer Service. My frustration level rises. I can't understand the girl I'm connected with. And then she keeps repeating this number to me so I can call it.
Let me just say...if you dial 1-800-Cricket and try to GET a customer service person...good fucking luck. Won't happen. It will tell you that it can't understand you and HANG UP ON YOU!!! I'm not kidding.
How poor of a customer service ethic IS THAT???
So I'm like...screw it. I'll take it back.
The store is closed Sunday. So I go back in Monday at lunch and explain that I couldn't get the modem to activate, and I want my full refund.
Apparently...I had to take it back THE SAME DAY to get the full refund.
I am not remotely amused.
I look at the girl (oh's the same two dumbasses) and told me one day. She said...I meant the same day.
OH! And I forgot to mention that they told me it would be a $40 flat fee. But when I got my paperwork, it was $40.55. One of the girls said...Cricket is a "green" company so there is a charge. NO ONE said that upfront!!! Not a damn word. But let's stick it to the customer for .55 under the guise of being "green."
So I look at the girl who has now reneged on her word and said, "You know. You do whatever it takes to make you feel better."
She quickly hands me my money and probably can't wait to see the back of me.
I will also mention that the woman in front of me was having problems because Cricket debited her account but still swore up and down they didn't.
Caveat emptor.
Yeah. No shit.

(Oh. Forgot to tell y'all that I reported them to the Better Business Bureau of Central Oklahoma.)


Wednesday, July 09, 2008

I've done tickled myself

You know it. I know it. I'm from Oklahoma. I talk like maple syrup being poured out of a bottle. I have friends who have flowers coming out of toilets on their porch. Yeah. I've seen rednecks. Hell, that's what most of the population IS here.
So as I was researching *cough**cough**surfing the web**cough*, I found something that was so hilarious that I had to share.
I've decided to repost my last post in a specific style. One that I find truly damn funny.
Without further blog. Redneck style.
It's a twisted, twisted wo'ld, cuss it all t' tarnation. Fo'tunately fo' me, it's mine. Welcome.
ah write. ah write on account o' it sestains me. Empowers me. Frees me. ah's sarcastic on account o' it's fun, as enny fool kin plainly see.
ah LOVE th' Writer's Market.
An' guess whut??? Th' 2009 edishun is out! Fry mah hide!! Fry mah hide!! Fry mah hide! *dancin'*
Oh, yeah. This hyar large book is one of mah favo'ite toys an' resources. An' it highly appeals t'mah office supply/stashunary fetish. *grins*
Eff'n yo' doesn't haf this book, an' yer a writer...GET IT! Fry mah hide!! Fry mah hide!! Fry mah hide!, dawgone it...ah have ev'rythin' colo'-coredinated wif post-it notes.
Etch page ah's interested in is post-ited on th' top of th' page an' then right on over then intry ah wish t'peruse agin.
I've already decided thet when ah finish Earth Goddess (Book Four of th' Elemental Guardian Series) thet ah will seek out an ajunt an'/o' publisher. An' th' book ah wish t'peddle is about ha'fway done. Git me!! Fry mah hide!! Fry mah hide! Other than mah Writer's Market fixashun, ah's ponnerin' mah vacashun. Oh yessuh. It's true. ah will be gone th' end of next week an' through th' weekend, cuss it all t' tarnation. How long has it been, yo' ax?
Oldess Possum is in Missouri right now wif Upward Boun'. She's splorin' cavahns an' a-gonna Silvah Dollar City. When she gits home, ah's havin' her backhoe her room, dawgone it.
'Nuff said, cuss it all t' tarnation.
p.s. I've now officially adopted the saying "Fry mah hide!"

Go here: and PLAY!!!

Monday, July 07, 2008

Writer's Market

I LOVE the Writer's Market. And guess what??? The 2009 edition is out!!! *dancing*
Oh, yeah.
This large book is one of my favorite toys and resources. And it highly appeals to my office supply/stationary fetish. *grins*
If you don't have this book, and you're a writer...GET IT!!! have everything color-coordinated with post-it notes. Each page I'm interested in is post-ited on the top of the page and then right over then entry I wish to peruse again.

I've already decided that when I finish Earth Goddess (Book Four of the Elemental Guardian Series) that I will seek out an agent and/or publisher. And the book I wish to peddle is about halfway done.
Go me!!!

Other than my Writer's Market fixation, I'm pondering my vacation.
Oh yes. It's true. I will be gone the end of next week and through the weekend. How long has it been, you ask?
Oldest Chicken is in Missouri right now with Upward Bound. She's exploring caverns and going to Silver Dollar City. When she gets home, I'm having her backhoe her room.
Enough said.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Middle Chicken's Perspective

I remember when we decided to move out into the country. Most of us were excited. Not Middle Chicken.
We arrive at the house and everyone scatters to explore. MC makes a circuit. She starts in the kitchen. Loops through all the bedrooms. This happens about seven times. Finally I stop her.
"What's wrong?"
MC: "Where's the phone?"
"There is no phone."
"WHAT? How am I supposed to call my friends???"
Needless to say, she was disgusted with the whole idea.
Fast forward a bit.
We were watching Dateline NBC or 20/20 or hell...ONE of those news shows. And they were talking about Amish kids.
MC and BC don't have a clue about the Amish. So I proceed to let them know that it's a very old-fashioned existence. They don't have electricity. They don't have music players. They ride in buggies.
MC looks at me very plainly disturbed and says, "Yeah. And they're DYING inside."
I had to laugh.
Must've sounded like the third level of hell to her.
She's always popping off something very clever and snarky. I'll take credit for some of that. But every once in awhile, she'll say something so hilarious, I fear that I will wet my pants.
Case in point: MC and BC were in the living room talking. Just chit-chatting. NOT fighting, thank God. Because that's the norm.
And out of the blue, MC looks at BC and says, "Your hair looks like the Mayor of Whoville."
This STILL cracks me up.
Never a dull moment, let me tell ya.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008


Wrote around six thousand words this last weekend. *smile*
Go me!

But what really weighs on my mind this evening is anonymity and the freedom it allows.
I like message boards. Really, I do. I like to pop my opinion out there and either support or negate what is already being said. And for message boards where I visit quite frequently, there is a sense of community.
I love it.
Now. I'm pretty sure we're all aware of my lack of shyness. *GRINS* I'm just saying. But, quite honestly, I don't surround myself with multitudes of people whom I hang out with on a day-to-day basis. Not at all, in fact. I'm very solitary. So I find myself seeking out at least a sense of community.
And since I don't have it in my every day life, I suppose I find it online.

I have a "username." Too much fun picking THAT bad boy out. And I have a profile where I fill in pertinent information. Then I post to my heart's content and find my "friends" online. And it fills the need. Not to mention, these people don't know me. I don't prevaricate on the boards. But it's not like these lovely individuals see me every day and can measure my posted words to my every day words.
There is a degree of freedom in that. In expressing myself without all the disapproval and shit that can go along with it.
I'm me. With all the fun that entails.
So. If you're bipping around and find a slightly snarky individual who loves chocolate with nuts, buttered pecan ice-cream, and has three maddening lovely teenage daughters...don't blow my cover.

Friday, June 20, 2008


Monday, June 30, at 7 p.m. local author Crystal Inman will speak about the ins and outs of writing and publishing your own romance novel. Also, during her program titled, "Are You Ready for Romance?", the audience is invited to bring their used romance novels to exchange with other attendees.
This will be at the Shawnee Public Library. So come see me!!!
We will have too much fun.


My horoscopal truth for today:

You are still a little run-down, but you can tell that your energy levels are just about to spike. If you can wait for that to happen -- tomorrow, most likely -- you should be able to take on almost anything!

Amen, my lovelies. Amen.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

The bra saga continues...

I have this piece of wire sticking out from my left cup and gouging the bejeezus out of my chest.
This little piece of wire could seriously be a shank in the Barbie world. You know...Barbie goes to prison. She could fuck someone right up with this sharp little piece of metal.
Probably double her time. But what does Barbie care? She's a bad bitch. *grins*
Something must be done, I'm telling ya.
But every time I pull the damn underwire out, the bra loses a bit of its shape. Better that, I suppose, than me losing a bit (or more than a bit) of skin.
Pulled out the damn wire.
Girls are breathing easier.
Who invented the underwire bra, anyway? I am sooooooooooooo looking that up and sending bad, bad thoughts to him. Yeah. I'm pretty sure it was a "him."


Audio Help (rād'ĭ-kəl) Pronunciation Key adj.
Departing markedly from the usual or customary; extreme: radical opinions on education.
Favoring or effecting fundamental or revolutionary changes in current practices, conditions, or institutions
Slang Excellent; wonderful.

I'm wondering what I've done (or God knows-SAID) to have the Department of Justice looking at my blog and website. *grins*
I did get quite pissed off when one of the news websites critiqued Danielle Steele's latest and used the term "bodice ripper."
And yeah...I may have left a snarky message referring to the term. Sure. Right. *smile*
Free speech, right?
Department of Justice
What the bloody hell???
Also...there's a lovely person from Louth, Ireland that drops by my website on almost a daily basis. Drop me a line!!! I'd love to chit-chat. Then there's the usual "Crystal Inman playboy" search. *eye roll*
Kudos, however, to the individual that googled "Sexy Crystal Inman." You're on my Christmas Card list.

Back to the business of writing this weekend. Royally going to piss off the chickens but oh well. They want to go and do on the weekends. I want to rest and write. Hell of an issue when they get in a snit over it.
Working on Earth Goddess and WATS. Zipping right along there. Looking good. And I feel the urge.
Ahhhhh, gotta love that.
Read "Lover Enshrined" by Ward and "The Healer" by Sharon Sala. Enjoyed both. My only large drawback with LE is that Ward didn't let me revisit all my old favorites. I understand she's moving forward, but DAMN!!! I miss Butch and Vishous.
And, damn it, my underwire in my bra is going haywire. Shit, I have a piece of wire sticking my skin between the girls. *sigh*
Bras suck.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Monday, Monday

Let's see.
Had my last nicotine nail yesterday evening a bit after seven. And do I want one? Or six?
Sure, I do.
I would smoke three or four on the way to work. Two at break. Three at lunch. Two more at last break. Three or four on the way home. Plus at least half a dozen more that night. Usually more.
There's that.

Cleaned yesterday. Did my sheets and whatnot. Caught up on laundry. And did Tae-Bo.
Yep. Ya heard me. TAE-BO.
Let me tell ya, I haven't done tae-bo in years. But when I did, you could really tell. And me, being the all or nothing individual that I am, threw myself right in there. So my right hip is killing me!!! LOL
Nice feeling of accomplishment going on yesterday.
Craving the nicotine and cursing the fact that it's Monday.
Higher hopes for tomorrow.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Giving up the nicotine

Oh yes. It's true.
You know...I started smoking about a year and a half ago. After the house fire. After the person I thought was the love of my life-screwed me over and then left. So, um, yeah. It was a great couple of months.
I turned to the nicotine. It was my crutch. And believe, I leaned on it aplenty.
And now I'm rather sick of it. And I'll be damned if I let something else rule me-so to speak.
Screw a large size bunch of that.
Opened up my last pack of cigarettes today.
So when I hop aboard the Bitchfest Central because my body is intensely craving that sorry shit, just bear with me.
I'm sure I'll get back to my lovely self soon enough.
Probably not soon enough for my children. But oh damn well.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

My head...the Final Frontier

Caught just the last half of an old Star Trek episode the other day with Baby Chicken. She was fascinated. Just shows the good stuff lasts. No matter the three decade span. *grins*

Feeling a bit apathetic of late. Not too good, methinks. Seems like the economy and life in general just seem to sucketh.
Ok, parts. Not ALL of it. *smile*
But enthusiasm? Not. So. Much.

Oldest Chicken came home for the weekend from Upward Bound. And let me just tell ya...after she ran out of stories...she SLEPT for two days. Not to mention the thoughtless heifer had her bags packed and ready to go Saturday evening even though she didn't have to be back until Sunday after 6 pm.
Good thing I'm not prone to complexes, eh?

Work is damn busy. Summer always kicks our collective ass. So I struggle with getting up in the morning. Once damn enthusiasm. *sigh*
They need to bottle that stuff.
Plus, I feel like I have to be the entertainment director for Baby Chicken. If I hear "I'm bored" one more freakin' time...I'm likely to put aside maternal feelings and say something decidedly unpleasant.
Middle Chicken is just getting along with her bad self. She's been banned (for now) from MySpace and Runescape for taking it upon herself to contact a certain boy on there. It's a bitch being the parent sometimes, isn't it???
Yeah. That's what I think.

Wrote a bit this last weekend. Earth Goddess will be finished by the end of August. It's not an uphill, in the snow, struggle like Wind Goddess. Thank the Lord for that one.
And I want to finish WATS and shove it off to an agent. After I coo and say a little prayer over it. LOL

That's about it from here. I'm sure I've forgotten something. Or several somethings.
Later blogs, my dears. Later blogs.