Saturday, July 23, 2011

Cowgirl Up OR Why My Feet Were in Stirrups

There was no horse involved. Stop reading here if you wish. *smile*

I don't dislike going to the doctor. In fact, I quite like my doctor. Usually we chit-chat, prescriptions are written, I'm on my way. But I put off my "well woman" exam for around two years.
I may have put it off a little longer if my insurance guy hadn't said something to me. And really, my Mom had a tumor that no one could see or feel so why was I being such a WUSS and not doing this one small thing???
Because it hurts like a bitch.
This may not be true for every woman. Some find it uncomfortable. Some zone out and go elsewhere. Me? I'm in pain the entire time.
I swear to GOD I felt the q-tip in the back of my throat.
So I get to the doc's. Sign in. Called back pretty quickly. Am shown to "the room" where the festivities will take place. Told to change and then wait.
There is a pink paper pile on the patient bed thing. I pick up the first piece. It is made out of that shit the dentists clip across your chest so that you don't dribble on yourself. Paper. But nice gingham like paper, if that makes sense. It looks quite like a pattern for a vest once I get it unwrapped and pray to God I don't rip an important part and have my right nipple hanging out the entire procedure.
That should be the least of my worries.
So I strip down and put this paper blouse on. Then I fold this lovely matching square and drape it across my lower half.
I am...not happy. In fact, I'm muttering "this sucks" under my breath the entire time. It seems to calm me a bit.
In comes the doc and nurse. I lie back so she can do the breast exam. No biggie. I thank the good Lord that though there is cancer in my family, it's not prevalent or pervasive.
The only issue would be that my lovely pink cover-up that is draped across my naughty bits keeps slipping. My doc smiles and jokes that perhaps they need to put a hole in it and catch it on my belly button ring. *grins*
After my breasts have been tucked back into their temporary pink paper home, I must place my feet in the stirrups.
*rubs temple*
I hate this.
I've had three children. I've had this exam done before. It doesn't fucking matter!!!
It is...hell.
Finally, I can remove my feet from those damned stirrups and sit up. Q-tip is labeled and about to be sent off to the lab gods. I can put my clothes back on and try to purge this office visit from my mind.
I live in Oklahoma. Stirrups should be good things. *shuddering*

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Hijacked by my subconsious

When I lay down at night and attempt to sleep, there is a process at work. I let go of the concrete--the day's events and schedules, and I say hello to the abstract.
Okay. I don't really say hello. I say...AIIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHHH
Because my creative side deems it's suitable to come out and play. Everything the subconscious has filed and set aside while I deal with the real world and its problems.
I am, for want of a better word, cranially hijacked.
I love it.
Have you ever had to get out of bed after midnight when you went to bed at ten and couldn't sleep because you had to jot something down to get it out of your head? That would be a resounding YES!
Have you ever had a running dialogue in your head with characters who want you to write their stories? Indeed.
Ever just had a freeflowing train of thoughts that led you somewhere you were looking for but didn't know how to get there? Ah...bliss. *smile*
Sleep seems a small price to pay, doesn't it?
I've often said I get my best ideas right before I fall asleep. What's a few hours of slumber when your subconscious hijacks you and takes you places that reality can't touch?

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

I am who I am

What possesses adults to take two names and bastardize them into one sickeningly irritating one?
Like Brangelina. Or Benifer.
My latest obsession is Andrew Lee Potts. (There's been no protective order as of yet so I think I'm good to go for now. But I digress.)
He's a british actor and just so happened to play "Hatter" in Syfy's Alice. A different version, of course, of Alice in Wonderland.
Except when I want to go gaze upon his talented goodness on YouTube...some videos are titled "Halice" as in "Hatter" + "Alice."
*trigger gag reflex*
What do I think when I see the word "Halice"? Wasn't George Hallis (sic?) someone in the government or politics? And then I think halitosis. Hardly the pleasant feeling I want to be getting when I think Andrew Lee Potts.
Just saying.
Or even the hideous dual moniker "Brangelina."
They are philanthropists for the love of God.
It's not cute to slag two people together like that. Quit being so damn lazy and type out a full name. They are individuals. Treat them as such.
Have a little respect.
Rant off.

Monday, July 11, 2011


I have the occasional yen for an ice-cream or candy bar. I don't do fudge or brownies. Too much...everything.
But my craving yesterday was entirely different.
I craved...a story. But not any particular story. I craved the Nora Roberts trilogy with the vampire in it.
I'm such a creature of habit on some things. But on others, I don't care what I did the time before or the time before that. I want it different!
It tends to drive some people 'round the bend.
(I get my jollies where I may. haha)
That is, in large part, my issue with TV/books/dvds. I've seen it once. I don't need a repeat. I read it three years ago. I'm good.
It, whatever the media may be, better pretty fucking exceptional for me to look twice.

But this trilogy, I didn't even have a name yet, beat a tattoo in my head. I had to have. I had to find. I had to READ.
So I thumbed through my bookshelves, and there it was. The Circle Trilogy.
*deep content cranial orgasmic sigh*

I read it yesterday. The trilogy. And it sated me in a way that only fulfilling a craving can.
That's what good books do.
Stroke the imagination. Take us farther than our own four walls. Excite. Entice. Fulfill.
That's what I strive for my own books to do. For readers to crave what I've written. To take my hand as we explore characters and stories that touch us. To connect on a level reserved for that precious relationship between author and reader.
Ah, sweet bliss.

Monday, July 04, 2011

Can you hear me now?

Sometimes I forget how far-reaching this blog is. How someone from another country can tap in a few words and find me.
It is...incredible.

What do I have to say for myself? Way too much. lol
Work is a bitch right now. It's the busiest time of the year plus we're training on a database changeover. Imagine a buttload of women working their collective asses off while serving the public, training in their supposed "off-desk" time, and not killing each other. Weaker sex, my ass.
Personally there is a major transition with three teenage daughters trying to spread their wings while I'm trying not to let those wings knock me in the head nor clip them so short they are unable to fly.
I'm stretched thin. I know this.
I'm also writing the first book in a five-book series. Well, I'm SUPPOSED to be. Find me some quiet time, and I'll be yours forever. *grins* I'm also going to be starting a HUGE venture at the beginning of the year.
And did I mention that I have a book out now that I'm trying to pimp out??? Prepping for my oldest daughter's Senior year? Taking my middle daughter to Driver's Ed? Acclimating a beautiful kitten to the house? Retaining my sanity???
Well, something had to give. You guessed it. It would be the last one. :)
It's July. The month of summer vacations and relaxation and parties and whatnot. But it's also the month of driver's ed, work, writing, and shuffling children hither, thither, and yon.
So I tell myself to breathe. To enjoy the hectic, almost frantic, pace I have going on now in preparation of a time in the not-so-distant future when my children are on their own and, God willing, semi self-sufficient.
The irony???
I live for my girls and the writing. I would rather be busy than twiddling my thumbs and wondering what's happening next. By God, I will MAKE something happen. lmao
So give me the balls-to-the-wall mentality. Give me the self-imposed deadlines and schedules for three active daughters.
I can take it. Hell, most days I revel in it.
Because there is no feeling quite like accomplishment.
I can do it. I WILL do it.
(but I'm really looking forward to my vacation in October-hahaha)