tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90168762009-07-15T13:30:30.066-05:00Chrys' WorldIt's a twisted, twisted world. Fortunately for me, it's mine. Welcome.Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.comBlogger975125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-89131585345043627752009-07-15T13:19:00.002-05:002009-07-15T13:30:30.078-05:00Too Late To ApologizeNot only is this a kickin' song, it's a type of mantra for writers. Once your lovely book is released unto the masses, watch out. Some will love it. Some will hate it. Some won't bother to give a shit and will post your literary baby on eBay as quickly as possible.<br />I read "If There Be Dragons" by Kay Hooper this last weekend. It sucked. Verily.<br />I've read some of Kay Hooper's other work. Her psychic/detective works. And I liked them for the most part though some are bland. But this book? A waste of my time and the pages it was printed on.<br />There was no conflict. I would have more conflict if I opened the medicine cabinet, eyeballed my nail polish, and couldn't decide between red and blue. (By the way, RED always wins)<br />But I digress.<br />Writers will not always make readers happy. Period. And readers will not always stroke the writer's ego and exclaim at what a beautiful piece of work was written.<br />Just doesn't happen.<br />But when you come across something truly atrocious, should the writer bow his/her head and mea culpa you to death?<br />Hell no.<br />A work by any author stands when it's published. Whether it remains standing or falls all to hell is, unfortunately, up to general populace. <br />I have auto buys, though admittedly very few. And when I get a book that makes me throw up a bit in my mouth, I put it down and move on. Or I post a snarky blog such as this. Then I'm good.<br />If, however, heaven forbid, I stumble across a rant by a reader about one of my books, will I stop and apologize?<br />*snort*<br />You're kidding, right?<br />If a book is horrifically put together, I wouldn't let it be published. Not going to happen. The only reason I could even fathom someone having an issue with it would be content. And isn't that too damn bad for those who don't have the honor of debating with me what will or will not reside in my work of fiction?<br />Take a number. Form a line. Get comfortable.<br />So even though I have come across some truly horrid pieces of fiction and non-fiction, that's okay by me. <br />Writing is subjective. Reading is subjective.<br />Thank God.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-8913158534504362775?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-36707220195398122682009-07-07T09:25:00.004-05:002009-07-08T13:58:02.288-05:00Raising RomanticsI came across the 50th Anniversary Edition of <em>An Affair to Remember</em>. My God. I LOVE this movie. Watched it when I was much smaller with my Mom. Watched it last night with two of the chickens. (Oldest is in San Antonio with Upward Bound)<br />Before we even popped it in, MC looked at me and asked if it had a "happy ending." I smiled and said yes.<br />In it went.<br />Spoilers!!!<br />Just in case you've NEVER seen this movie. And if you haven't...shame on you!!! *laughing*<br /><br />When our two lovers returned to "normal life" and then made a pact to meet at the Empire State Building, one doesn't make it. In fact, she is looking up, and a car hits her.<br />My BC looks at me in horror and says, "What kind of movie IS this???"<br />*snickers*<br />Or when Cary Grant's sweet elderly grandmother passes. Once again....shock and dismay. But it's pivotal to the story.<br />In the end, though, that's the beauty of it. Two people meant to be together overcoming all odds.<br />*sigh*<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-3670722019539812268?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-13454255319324044872009-07-02T13:48:00.003-05:002009-07-02T13:52:38.792-05:00Chicken Wing damagedWent to pick up Oldest from Upward Bound. It was the last day Tuesday. And what should I find but OC with a jacked-up wing. *sigh*<br />Apparently a friend went to shut her dorm door (with a good swift kick) and didn't note my Oldest Chicken's wing in the way.<br />Alas, not a good thing.<br />So we spent yesterday morning in Urgent Care. Nothing broke, thank goodness. But she's on some pain pills and resting. Deep muscle bruise, and it looks like hell.<br />On a related note, they have camo wrap at the Dollar Store. It's pimptastic. *grins* <br />Makes even a sore arm look stylish.<br /><br />We're closed Saturday which is fine. *shrugs* I have that day off, anyway. But the upside being that I can take my 8 hour comp some other time. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA<br />I can't freakin' wait.<br /><br />Life is just bipping along. Reading some books when I have time. Watching my grass die a slow painful death. And wishing for Summer Reading Programs to get the hell over with.<br />How's about you?<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-1345425531932404487?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-52490099713062745412009-06-23T16:02:00.003-05:002009-06-23T16:11:10.264-05:00Revolving Door RelationshipsI don't get it.<br />But I guess my girls' generation is a hell of a lot different than ours. It seems to be the "Revolving Door Relationship" Mode.<br />I found out Oldest Chicken "loved" someone via her MySpace. (She's at Upward Bound, folks. Living in a dorm. All week. Don't judge. lmao) I'm like...who the HELL are you talking about? Then she told me. And approximately two minutes ago, I received a text that said they broke up.<br />WTF?<br /><br />Then there is a teenage girl I know who can give new meaning to the term "hit it and quit it."<br />And that's sad. Ya know?<br /><br />What is WRONG with having a serious and stable relationship? Nothing, I would think. And I realize the chickies are relatively young. But if you can't find the value in one of these relationships, then how the hell will you find it when it really means something? HMMM???<br /><br />I think it's tragic. I think it's quite fucked up, actually. Love yourself. Then open yourself up to someone else. Not another someone else. Then someone after that. And his/her friend. So on and so forth.<br /><br />And if you DON'T click...then by GOD--don't get with them in the first place. You've devalued yourself, them, and the whole shebang.<br /><br />A revolving door just spins around and goes nowhere. You have to learn when to get off. And if it's not going where you want it to go, then don't get on the damn thing to begin with.<br /><br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-5249009971306274541?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-56327103836330451062009-06-23T10:58:00.001-05:002009-06-23T10:59:30.134-05:00SEND PRECIP! And some hot cabana boys with fans!!!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/SkD7tbMh4fI/AAAAAAAAAPg/3JzMlMqMP70/s1600-h/7day.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350553115129143794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/SkD7tbMh4fI/AAAAAAAAAPg/3JzMlMqMP70/s320/7day.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-5632710383633045106?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-86872105662579749342009-06-17T17:57:00.003-05:002009-06-18T09:45:31.864-05:00Whip MeWith something soft, please. LOL<br />Haven't blogged in it feels like forever. Bad, bad me.<br />But summertime is hell on earth at work. I don't have time to think much less jot down something witty (if I'm lucky).<br />But I've wanted to blog about two movies I watched last weekend. Yeah, it's been awhile. I know.<br />*scuffing toe*<br />And holy crap. I just realized I can't remember what the other one was. Geez. Having a moment here. Maybe it'll come back to me.<br />heh<br />Maybe not.<br />Anyway...."He's Just Not That Into You."<br />Didn't think I'd like it. But I loved the hell out of it. Some important lessons from the movie:<br />1. Don't stalk people<br />2. Don't invite a third into a relationship. Especially if you get horizontal with the third.<br />3. Don't screw your wife while your mistress waits half-dressed in the closet.<br />4. Denial sucks ass.<br />5. Waiting for the right one, no matter the roadblocks and bullshit, is key.<br />6. When you least expect it, you'll find someone.<br />7. Women lie to other women to make them feel good.<br />8. And sometimes, baby, he or she is just not that into you.<br /><br />I didn't think I'd like it as much as I did. Great ensemble cast. Good storylines.<br />And totally off the subject: John Cusack rocks. I'm just saying. He deserves two thumbs up for his portrayal of romantic leads. I just love him. Finally watched "Must Love Dogs" and laughed. It was witty and clever and had John Cusack. I don't need much else.<br />OH! And "Serendipity". It's rather dated, I suppose. But still good. Once again, John Cusack.<br />Don't know what's on the movie list for this weekend.<br />Could it be.............John Cusack?<br />lmao<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-8687210566257974934?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-82639935891196470792009-06-05T10:29:00.003-05:002009-06-05T10:41:49.389-05:00Why yes. I have been neglectful. LOLSorry!!! LOL<br />This week has been hell as I previously predicted. My God! Our numbers are about twice what they usually are. So I've been dragging my ass to work and home again. And time for blogging? Are you freakin' kidding me??? Unfortunately...not so much.<br />But I thought I'd give it a go since I'll be gone all weekend.<br /><br />Pick up the Oldest Chicken today at four. I can't WAIT!!! I missed her so. And the little chickenlips will probably sleep all damn weekend. That's how she rolls. lmao <br />Heifer.<br />My other two have been pretty good, I gotta admit. But when the Mama picks up the Green Apple Smirnovs on Monday-I think they know what that means. LMAO<br />It's such a rarity. And it was all I could do to plod home, I swear to you.<br /><br />Today's a bit better, thank goodness. And the extra perk is that it's Friday. Picked up a couple of movies for the weekend since it's going to be hotter than hell here. Mid-nineties they're saying. pft<br />Hello air conditioner and couch. Though I will lay out probably both days. Grab me a book and sun myself. <br />Can't wait.<br /><br />And this summer finds us reading. A lot. Three out of four days this week has been all three of us sitting in the living room reading something or other. MC reads magazines and Teen stuffs. BC reads the Sequoyah Masterlist. And me? I read whatever I can get my hands on. It's nice. Can't even remember the last time I turned the television on. I think that's good. *grins*<br /><br />Going to kick back tomorrow. Possibly go to a new friend's birthday party. Exercise. Tan. And Sunday will find me doing a big bunch of nothing, I'm pretty sure. I need to clean the house, but I'm not quite feeling it. Ya know?<br />Have a great one!!!<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-8263993589119647079?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-25668266946929522452009-06-01T10:16:00.002-05:002009-06-01T11:50:15.280-05:00First Monday of SummerIt's going to be a long one. It's Summer Reading Program sign-up here at ye olde library. And the kids? They are many. LOL<br />Therefore, the workload shall be extreme.<br />In conclusion, I will have the rare sour apple smirnov after work (possibly two) and try to cleanse this day from my psyche.<br />It is the ONLY plan.<br />*grins*<br /><br />Ordered the latest Fablehaven book and got it in Saturday. Probably going to put my feet up this evening and give it a go.<br />I found myself gravitating back toward the teen books. This ought to be a good one. I've enjoyed the rest so far.<br />Read maybe half a dozen books over the weekend.<br />Dropped Oldest Chicken off at her dorm. Haven't turned the TV on in maybe three months or so. Evenings find me and the chickens at different spots in the living room with reading material.<br />Maybe I'll survive summer after all.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-2566826694692952245?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-53665663052585614012009-05-29T15:07:00.005-05:002009-05-29T15:14:01.212-05:00Bits and piecesIt's the boob crack.<br /><br />I've blogged about the infamous boob crack before, but it's been many moons. I refer, of course, to the crack between the breasts in the cleavage area. Ya know?<br />One of the girls coined the term. More than likely--Middle Chicken. *grins*<br />I like my cleavage, thankyouverymuch. I do NOT, however, enjoy dropping popcorn, chex mix, or WHATEVER down there. Yeah, I know. Hit my mouth, and there wouldn't be a problem. But really, that's not all there is to it. I swear to God. There is a magnet of some type down there that I am unaware of. Stuff just WANTS to go down there. Geez.<br />Highly annoying.<br /><br />Moving on.<br /><br />I cannot WAIT to bake myself tomorrow at the pool. CANNOT. WAIT. The girls can wear themselves out. I just checked out two more paperbacks and am lovin' it.<br />Also, it's that time again. Sno Cones!!! *dancing* The girls and I have been getting sno cones from the same place for over a decade. And we'll be snagging some sugary ice this weekend. I'm all for the Pink Lemonade. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm<br />Oh, and way off the subject, the person (s) from Saint Paul that keeps visiting my lovely blog--Drop me a line. I don't bite.<br />Well. *grins* Hardly, at any rate.<br /><br />Going to be a busy weekend, my friends. I hope you and yours enjoy the hell out of it.<br />I know I will.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-5366566305258561401?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-45294214894958400372009-05-27T13:45:00.004-05:002009-05-27T13:54:31.508-05:00RamblingsUnbeknownst to me, my favorite pajama pants (cute little penguins on pink fabric) developed a rip in them. Um...not a small one. So when I got off the couch to go get a drink, I mooned my children. lmao<br />Both cheeks.<br />Amusement abounds.<br /><br />My girls have taken to watching me exercise because they are complete buttheads. There is main chickie (the evil blond bitch) then four back-up chickies. One, in particular, messes up more often than not. In fact, there is a spot where she completely loses all of it. The girls have now dubbed her "crash and burn girl."<br /><br />I got a request for another partial from a REALLY good agent. *grins*<br /><br />Yesterday was PURE hell. Not diluted, mind you. It was complete and utter horrificness packaged nicely into my work day. My eye has already begun to twitch. Thus begins summer.<br /><br />I don't understand some people. I honestly don't. I think that if there were a way to circumvent a clusterfuck, one would take it. *shrug* Maybe that's just me.<br /><br />Going to try and go to the water park again this weekend. Last Saturday was a washout. I did, however, lay out Monday. LOVE the sun on my skin. Several years down the road...eh. We shall see. lmao<br /><br />Move Oldest Chicken into the dorms for Upward Bound Sunday. Don't know what I'm going to do for entertainment Monday through Friday now. One of the other chickens (or both) must step up. Plans are in progress.<br /><br />Life is good.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-4529421489495840037?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-4844018848074876112009-05-26T16:11:00.004-05:002009-05-26T16:16:14.303-05:00Promised PicturesMy promoting baby, Middle Chicken AKA Chrystan<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXgbOrFI/AAAAAAAAAPY/K6XySQa47Vo/s1600-h/IMG_1392.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340243717553826898" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXgbOrFI/AAAAAAAAAPY/K6XySQa47Vo/s320/IMG_1392.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Middle Chicken, Oldest Chicken, and Baby Chicken<br />You see that look? That nice glare Middle Chicken<br />has going on? *grins* That's from me.<br />(Chrystan, Caitlin, and Cara)<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXdv-s1I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/YHFlosXS_nk/s1600-h/IMG_1374.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340243716835554130" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXdv-s1I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/YHFlosXS_nk/s320/IMG_1374.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Middle Chicken, Rannie, and Tamra<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXQ0IP7I/AAAAAAAAAPI/3Hgn9cMyVOo/s1600-h/IMG_1349.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340243713363296178" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXQ0IP7I/AAAAAAAAAPI/3Hgn9cMyVOo/s320/IMG_1349.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Oldest Chicken and Baby Chicken<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXHguxfI/AAAAAAAAAPA/HmCrFNz59C4/s1600-h/IMG_1347.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340243710866015730" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbXHguxfI/AAAAAAAAAPA/HmCrFNz59C4/s320/IMG_1347.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Middle Chicken<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbW672DUI/AAAAAAAAAO4/gG8ZNPiSidg/s1600-h/IMG_1332.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340243707490078018" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/ShxbW672DUI/AAAAAAAAAO4/gG8ZNPiSidg/s320/IMG_1332.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-484401884807487611?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-73806864191083876112009-05-20T19:43:00.004-05:002009-05-21T09:53:27.624-05:00Middle Chicken moves on<p>I remember pushing her out, and the nurse laying her naked little body on my chest. What big eyes she had.</p><p>I remember pulling her little red hair up on top of her head like a mini-waterfall and calling her Pebbles. But she was cuter.</p><p>I remember her crooked grin and quiet demeanor. She was the only one of the girls who could play by herself.</p><p>I remember the local paper taking a picture of her while she walked down the stairs to the Kindergarten Christmas program in all her green velvet glory. She smiled shyly for the camera.</p><p>I remember working all night on a Science Fair Project about gum with her. She says the teacher picked the subject, but I really think she just wanted to see how many flavors of gum Mom would pick up.</p><p>I remember when she broke her arm playing in the yard with her sisters and Joe. I cried when they had to set the cast because she cried.</p><p>I remember driving in the car in complete silence. Then I would meet her stare in the mirror. She would laugh. I would laugh. About absolutely nothing.</p><p>I remember her telling me that she wanted to give her bike to the neighbor girl because the girl didn't have one. *smile*</p><p>I remember her first day of school. Her first bike. Her favorite Spice Girl. Her friends. Her Halloween costumes. Her laughter. Her obstinate streak. When they took her tonsils out. Her Wizard of Oz shoes. Getting her ears pierced. </p><p>Pieces of Middle Chicken wrapped around me that make me smile. And now Chrystan is headed off to high school next year. A stubborn independent redhead with a big heart and big ideas.</p><p>I couldn't be more proud.</p><p>Pictures to come.</p><p>Grins*</p><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-7380686419108387611?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-51907465729763770252009-05-19T10:30:00.002-05:002009-05-19T10:47:10.757-05:00Education THEN ImplementationThis is the world of half-assed. You realize that, right? It's a world of "NOW NOW NOW" with only minimal (if any) knowledge pertaining to whatever is NOW NOW NOW.<br />It's fucking crazy.<br />Lately I've been bombarded with people, training, and life situations where NOW NOW NOW is being shoved down my throat while I'm standing there looking at the group of crazies asking...and would you like to tell me how, why, where, which one, and what? <br />Well. Would you?<br />You expect me to enforce a new tool without any training whatsoever. You expect me to attend an awards banquet at my child's school with less than twenty-four hours notice. You expect me to have the answers while you give me the question in pieces.<br />It seriously boggles the mind.<br />Preparation! And I'm not talking "to death." Or to the nth degree. No. Because what fun would that be?<br />But I'm implying a certain knowledge shared before expecting a desirable result.<br />Is that to much to ask?<br />Methinks not.<br />But then again, lately, I couldn't tell.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-5190746572976377025?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-16028363240591305782009-05-18T09:33:00.002-05:002009-05-18T09:40:04.898-05:00The big yellow orb in the skyI saw it this morning. I almost fainted. It was the SUN, I tell ya!!! Here. In Oklahoma! <br />Amazing what a little sunshine can do for ya. Even for a Monday, I'm fairly perky. *grins*<br />Be afraid.<br />Be very afraid.<br /><br />It's the girls' last week of school. MC has 8th grade promotion this Thursday. Then she's off to high school.<br />Wow.<br />I'm still processing this. And I believe she is, too. It's hard for her. But hopefully when August rolls around, she'll start to adjust. Having the family down for pizza (per MC's request-I swear the child can inhale a whole pie-God love her) and ice cream. Can anyone say Pepcid AC? SURE you can! lmao<br />Then we'll be off to the water park this weekend. Going to get out and about and explore the state a bit this summer. And if we like this water park fairly well, we may visit more than a couple of times. The only problem? It's about an hour and a half away. BC does NOT travel well. <br />Took MC dress shopping Friday. She picked one out that so signifies who she is. *grins* With all sorts of accessories that don't match but she loves because they DON'T match. Eclectic, that child. <br />So that's how the week unfolds. Gotta get MC's hair done Wednesday morning before work. Promises to be a long ass day, my friends. But anything for the chickens. <br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-1602836324059130578?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-88467520800190958512009-05-12T10:04:00.002-05:002009-05-12T10:32:56.964-05:00Generation GapOk. Sometimes it's more like a chasm. <br />Case in point: Batman<br /><br />Saturday night I was delighted to hear the repetitive refrain of "we're bored" being issued from OC and MC. It's always a marvelous time. And gee, Mom. Didn't we have ANY movie in the house we haven't already watched???<br />I point to a dusty stack of VHS tapes in the corner. And tell the girls to look through those. And then I specifically say...I think we have Batman over there.<br />Now keep in mind, the girls only recently saw the Dark Knight. The one where Heath Ledger does Oscar calibre work. But I refer to the Batman that was the FIRST Batman. With a kick ass soundtrack my Prince (Yeah. It was THAT long ago. He actually HAD a name). With Kim Basinger who screams FAR too often. And Jack Nicholson as the Joker with some of the best freakin' lines I've ever heard uttered in a movie.<br />OC is clearly disgusted. She picks up the case and read the back. Lengthy pause. And then she looks up and tells MC it was made in 1989. *gasp*<br />And I say, yeah. That's about right. And that's the year I graduated. MC looks at me and says...you're 38?<br />(Okay. Major side story off the subject here. Last year, when I was but a young 36, ALL my girls thought I was 37. Why? I don't know. Because they can be evil heifers? Possibly. But I honestly think they were just unaware. So when I actually turned 37 this year, it probably went by remarkably unnoticed for the most part. But for MC to pop off with 38? I figure by the time I turn 40, I'll just be so densensitized that it won't even matter.)<br />I glare at MC. She simply looks back. And then she explains to me that people usually graduate when they're 18 so surely that means I'm 38. Except, I reassure the little butthead, that I skipped second grade which makes me a year younger than all my classmates.<br />(She took her sadistic pleasure from the vein throbbing in my forehead, but let her be amused where she may.)<br />We finally pop in the ol' VHS, and the movie starts.<br />Both chickens want to know which one is Batman. And what does he look like? And it doesn't show him until like fifteen minutes in.<br />But when it does, MC cracks me up. She looks over at me and says, "He looks like that guy off Benchwarmers. Is that his dad?"<br />She refers, of course, to Rob Schneider. And calmly asks if Michal Keaton is his dad.<br />LMAO<br />I can only shake my head. Because I am speechless. And what tickles me more is that I can see the resemblance.<br />Skip ahead to when Batman drops ol' Jack into the vat of boiling acid stuff. Then he pops back out as the Joker a few scenes later. And as soon as Jack starts wearing the clown make-up, MC looks at me and says, "This has only reinforced my fear of clowns."<br />I think they enjoyed the movie as it unfolded. But it didn't mean as much to them as it did to me back in the day. Okay, back in the year. And that's fine, too.<br />It was all about quality time with the chickens. <br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-8846752080019095851?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-88255461033788514652009-05-09T13:10:00.001-05:002009-05-09T13:12:03.176-05:00Heart and SoulI always tell people that the romance books come from my heart, but the poetry comes from my soul. I wrote three poems one right after the other last night. This one was my first and my favorite.<br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Thaw</span><br />every breath slick with ice<br />the cold too much to bear<br />frigid tendrils fill my chest<br />iced vapors in the air<br /><br />i yearn for heat<br />to flare inside<br />melt the pain<br />all else tried<br /><br />but the cold holds tight<br />squeezed 'round my chest<br />spread throughout<br />a torturous guest<br /><br />i shake and shiver<br />my soul splinters deep<br />broken in pieces<br />i weep<br />i weep<br /><br />i long for the warmth<br />to ease this ache<br />soothe the tears<br />mend the break<br /><br />loneliness a slow death<br />killing pieces of me<br />laid frozen and bare<br />though none can see<br />****<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-8825546103378851465?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-59356468014123058292009-05-08T14:47:00.002-05:002009-05-08T14:56:27.288-05:00A Librarian's PrayerPlease God,<br /><br />Grant me the patience to deal with customers who forget their cards<br />Help me to bite my tongue when I'm polite and the customer is anything but<br />Make me realize that getting a small person his/ her first card is far more important than having to handwrite sixty barcodes<br />And know that the sound of children laughing may sound like rabid hyenas after eight hours, but it's all perspective<br />Help me to remember to sanitize my hands approximately every thirty seconds because I don't want to know where some library cards or books have been<br />Give me the strength to remember I'm at work and not to take it personally<br />But most of all, God grant my director the wisdom to see that I need a raise to afford all the liquor I'll need this summer.<br />Amen<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-5935646801412305829?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-82043261563007120242009-05-07T12:44:00.004-05:002009-05-07T12:49:16.701-05:00What a couple of days!!!I took yesterday off. Planned it about two weeks ago. Then it happened that I was asked out to lunch. It was a nice little get together. But I think I made my date nervous. *laughing*<br />Go figure.<br />I think sometimes I'm a little out there. But I don't see that changing. Ever. It is what it is. *grins*<br /><br />The most excellent news? <br />I already received a response back from an agent about <em>Warrior and the Sparrow</em>! OMG!!! I opened the email, squealed (which we all know is a rarity), then couldn't calm myself to sit down at my desk. lmao<br />Of course, she wants a synopsis. *sigh*<br />So that's my pft news. But hey! I think it's a small price to pay. A really, really small price. So I'm all jacked up on endorphins and tickled shitless that a work that I absolutely love has sparked someone else's interest.<br />Beyond exciting.<br />Have a fantastic day!<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-8204326156300712024?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-79108592860467539092009-05-04T10:47:00.004-05:002009-05-04T13:10:08.625-05:0090476 HELL to the YEAH!!!I did it.<br />I finished Warrior and the Sparrow yesterday.<br />*smile*<br />And I feel fucking fantastic.<br /><br />It was a lazy day. The girls pretty much slept the entire time. MC didn't feel good. But me? I sat on my bed with my trusty laptop and finished writing a story that means so much to me.<br />And as soon as I finished and did a victory lap around the house, I made dinner.<br />lmao<br />Glamorous, huh?<br />I don't think they realize the magnitude, the little chickenlips. But I do.<br />So...without further ado...Warrior and the Sparrow:<br /><br />A powerful warrior destined from birth for a dangerous quest.<br />A world ravaged by an evil presence that will stop at nothing short of complete domination.<br />A remarkable woman who risks everything she is or ever will be to save both.<br />*******<br />Love it!<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-7910859286046753909?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-74544232091101411232009-04-30T11:52:00.004-05:002009-04-30T12:00:45.422-05:00Speak itMiddle Chicken complained about a week and a half ago that she craved pizza. You know how teenagers are. My God, you would've thought it held the elixir of life or something. Anyway, not two days later she had pizza. Then I forgot she had a field trip so I picked up pizza. Then that weekend we made homemade pizza.<br />lmao<br />She's like...ENOUGH PIZZA ALREADY!<br />I laughed.<br />Because I'm a firm believer in speaking it. Once it's out there (whatever it is) there will be a response. I don't care what it is you've popped out into the Universe---there will be a reaction. Isn't it amazing how you think of somebody you haven't spoken to in ages, and they call? Or you ponder about something that bothers you, and the solution arrives? Or something makes a reference to your thoughts?<br />Thoughts are powerful, yes. But speaking the words aloud solidifies them. Gives strength to them.<br />*grins*<br />So says a future NYT bestselling author.<br />lmao<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-7454423209110141123?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-39541760963204576022009-04-27T11:19:00.002-05:002009-04-27T11:26:09.764-05:00I have a knack for pissing myself offI should have known better.<br />Emphasis on "should have."<br />But no. Not me.<br />I have this big ol' "S" on my chest.<br />*eye roll*<br />LIKE. HELL.<br /><br />So I pop ye old evil workout DVD in yesterday morning. I'm warming up. Actually, I'm sweating my ass off when suddenly I feel (and...God help me...HEAR) something pop on my lower left side. Think lower back-upper butt cheek. And then I straighten up. And right away, I'm know that I've done something extremely bad. Because it hurts like a mother.<br />I am highly displeased.<br />But I finished exercising. (Yes. At this point in time I would've slapped me, too.) Then I immediately find my heating pad and apply it to sore ass. If I could've found two belts, I would've wrapped that son of a bitch around me like an adult diaper. Alas, no.<br />I found it rather hard to sit on said sore ass and write. So I only popped off a couple of thousand words on WATS. Oh, and I limped all day yesterday.<br />I think I popped whatever the hell I displaced back where it lives this morning. Can I just share that it was a highly unpleasant experience, also? But I'm sore. And sitting really isn't a picnic right now. <br />And what am I gonna do when I get home?<br />Work out.<br />lmao<br />But easily. Web MD assures me that just lying there doesn't help matters. That gentle exercising and easing back into it will help. So I'll pop the evil one back in and try not to overdo today.<br />In a perfect world.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-3954176096320457602?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-24435952654953438842009-04-23T16:05:00.004-05:002009-04-23T16:09:22.022-05:00Wrapped around chocolate...mmmmmmmPart of the Author Panel goody bag from yesterday's OLA talk. How cool is that?<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/SfDYcbOLLzI/AAAAAAAAAOw/mPqk0QdehPY/s1600-h/author+candy+back.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327996342034444082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/SfDYcbOLLzI/AAAAAAAAAOw/mPqk0QdehPY/s320/author+candy+back.jpg" border="0" /></a> And for Lyvvie: We talked about the Sequoyah Masterlist, Graphic Novels, and Authors. Those are the discussions I went to. I had a great time. But the chocolate bar with my name on it? Are you freakin' kidding me???<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-2443595265495343884?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-32464176549365549192009-04-20T15:58:00.003-05:002009-04-20T16:04:26.115-05:00Both sidesI gotta admit it. I sometimes miss the days where I could sit at home and write at leisure. That was a luxury. Now I cram the writing in after work or on weekends. <br />But on the flip side, if I didn't work at the library then I probably wouldn't have enjoyed the compliment I received today so much.<br />A customer came up, and told me she really enjoyed the first two books of the Elemental Guardian series--but particularly <span style="color:#000099;">Water Goddess</span>.<br />It tickled me.<br /><br />Speaking of both sides, the next two days I'll be at OLA (Oklahoma Library Association) Conference. I'm going to listen Tuesday and speak Wednesday. I'm on the Author's panel with Jordan Dane, Mel Odom, and Charles Strasser. On the other side of the table are my other set of peers.<br />Chocolate pretzel anyone???<br />Wish me luck!<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-3246417654936554919?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-79819465231117977362009-04-18T09:45:00.005-05:002009-04-18T09:52:13.570-05:00Oh. My. Freakin'. God.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/Senn176l-qI/AAAAAAAAAOY/KcEJwp3QoII/s1600-h/hugh+jackman1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326042948144855714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 117px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/Senn176l-qI/AAAAAAAAAOY/KcEJwp3QoII/s320/hugh+jackman1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326043053142189538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y63-Z2tJF6A/Senn8DD6JeI/AAAAAAAAAOg/JqepFvOp6Sk/s320/hugh+jackman2.jpg" border="0" />Let me just say that I've already given thanks that there is an <em>X-Men Origins: Wolverine</em> movie coming out. </p><p>For the love of God. How gorgeous IS he in this movie??? And if you haven't seen the cover of Entertainment Weekly for the last week of April--get your ass somewhere and check it out. He graces the cover. That was my bit of eye candy this morning. lmao</p><p>Someone who exudes confidence is just hot. Don't care what they look like. And I'm not talking conceited. I'm saying "confident." They are well aware what they can do and don't show boat it. That is one of the most incredibly sexy traits I've ever seen.</p><p>*fanning self*</p><p>Respectfully,</p><p>Crystal's hormones</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-7981946523111797736?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9016876.post-10258585614164269592009-04-16T11:11:00.002-05:002009-04-16T11:19:53.531-05:00Lost in AdaI had to take Middle Chicken to the dermatologist in Ada yesterday. I've been to Ada before. Hell, I went two years at ECU there. I freakin' had a printed out page with directions on it.<br />Did it matter?<br />Not so much.<br /><br />So we head down Main Street which ends up right in front of ECU. I can't go straight. But I can go left or right. I hang a left. I'm currently headed in the right direction. Then I go all the way down to 4th. Which, once again, is correct. Then I, in my infinite wisdom, make a left.<br />*sigh*<br />And I continue to head down 4th which turns into Arlington but is still 4th and God knows what else.<br />Not much luck.<br />So there is an intersection there on 4th/Arlington and Mississippi. I hit every direction those flippin' stop signs are on. North. South. East. West. Still haven't made it to the clinic.<br />I'm not irritated. I'm amused. Because this is a given. If I have a choice, I will pick the wrong direction EVERY time.<br />So I drive back toward the evil stop sign and pull into a gas station. Ask directions. (I'm very good at this, by the way.)<br />And yes, I should have made a RIGHT on 4th. Because the street I need is three stop lights down. lmao<br />So. After giving myself and hour and forty five minutes leeway, we make it to MC's appointment with half an hour to spare.<br />*dancing*<br />Then, on our many travels about town, we saw a Salvation Army store. MC is excited because that means I may actually let her buy something. We head in. She doesn't want anything. I bought the CUTEST ladybug straw purse for a dollar.<br />lmao<br />The trip out of town was not nearly as eventful. We cranked the tunes. MC eyeballed the farmers in their trucks. And we both sucked down caffeine to beat the band.<br />Grins*<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9016876-1025858561416426959?l=chryscat.blogspot.com'/></div>Crystal*http://www.blogger.com/profile/06689150836320685611noreply@blogger.com0