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?
*shrug*
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.
*grins*
Makes me happy.
For now.
Grins*

BABY CHICKEN'S 13TH BIRTHDAY!!!

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.

Ha.

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.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!

Love you!

Mom*

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.

EVERYTHING!

No pressure, right?

*grins*

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 lovelies...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.

lmao

Grins*

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."
*ahem*
"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."
Now.
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.
*whistling*
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.
Grins*

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

Uh.
Huh.

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.
READ THIS: CHARACTERS WITH THESE TYPES OF PROBLEMS ARE A WASTE OF YOUR TIME AND ENERGY. PERIOD.
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.
Grins*

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.
Eh.
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?
Grins*

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.
*blinking*
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.
What?
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!!!
*sigh*

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.
Grins*

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 Amazon.com 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.
SPOILERS!!!
RUN...DO NOT WALK...SCROLL DOWN UNTIL AFTER THE CAPS...YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
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?
Now.
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.
BACK TO THE GENERIC STUFF...
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 stream...you don't know what you're going to get.
Please...for the love of GOD...do 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.
Grins*
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 another...you can keep your balance, or you can forsake what brought readers to you in the first place. It's a consideration.

Quack *ahem* Quack

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.
ACK!!!
I am DYING here!
Wasn't it enough that I gave til it hurt with Barney and Gumby?
Apparently not.

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

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.
Grins*

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.

Grins*

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
*****
Crystal*

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???

So.
*ahem*
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.
WHO KNEW???
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.

Now.
If I can bottle that goodness for WATS.
Grins*

The ONLY way to order a Sonic Fried Ice Cream Blast

Yeah. I did it.
Grins*

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
*****

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?

And...shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Here's the cover. *grins*

Keep it under your hat.

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
*whistling*

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

Drama

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.
*****

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 says...so 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?
*BIG GRIN*
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.
*snickering*
Shoulda known better.
By the way...I didn't indulge in either KFC or Sonic. And I've lost another 14 pounds.
heh
Grins*

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.
Ok.
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.
Grins*

WTF?

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.
Crystal*

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.
Grins*

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?
*grins*
Indeed.
Crystal*

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.
Excellent.
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 is...wow.

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.
lmao
Quite an eye-opener.
Wish us luck!
Grins*

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.
Crystal*

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*
lmao

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.
ARGH!!!
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.
*GRINS*

One Enchanted Evening Review

From Simply Romance Reviews:
SRR GRADE: A-
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

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.
O
M
G
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.
Then...as 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.
LMAO
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 all...it was the best thing I've done in quite some time for myself and more than worth everything I did to get there.
Yep.
Already planning my next one.
Grins*

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

O
M
G

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?
Too
Damn
LONG!!!
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.
lmao
Grins*

DON'T EVER GET INVOLVED WITH CRICKET!!!

MONEY GRUBBING
EVIL
FUCKSTICKS

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 one...it 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.
Um...yeah.
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 yeah...it's the same two dumbasses) and say...you told me one day. She said...I meant the same day.
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
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."
Bastards.
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.)

HA!

I've done tickled myself

Ok.
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.
So.
I've decided to repost my last post in a specific style. One that I find truly damn funny.
Without further ado...my 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.
O
M
G
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! So...um, 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?
Too
Dawgone
Long
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.
Grins*
****
p.s. I've now officially adopted the saying "Fry mah hide!"
lmaooooooooooooooo

Go here: http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/ and PLAY!!!

Writer's Market

O
M
G
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!!!
So...um...I 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?
Too
Damn
Long
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.
Grins*

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."
O
M
G
This STILL cracks me up.
Never a dull moment, let me tell ya.
Grins*

Anonymity

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.
Grins*

COME SEE ME!!!

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.
*wink*
Grins*

****************************

My horoscopal truth for today:

Aquarius
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.

The bra saga continues...

...OMG!
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.
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Ok.
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."
Grins*

Radical

rad·i·cal
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?
*muttering*
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.
Seriously.
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.
Grins*

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
Sheesh.
Nice feeling of accomplishment going on yesterday.
Today?
Craving the nicotine and cursing the fact that it's Monday.
Higher hopes for tomorrow.
Grins*

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.
Grins*

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 again...no 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.
Grins*

This is what happens when you let your kids read your blog and take them to work with you. Sorry Boo. LMAO

----- Our chat on Thu, 6/5/08 9:25 AM -----
Blair (9:07 AM): Mom?How do i post a comment on your blog?
Blair (9:07 AM): Hello?
Blair (9:08 AM): what am i doing on here?
Blair (9:08 AM): Am i Iming YOU???
Blair (9:08 AM): This is so kool!@
Blair (9:08 AM): It would be cooler if u talked back to me. u know.
Blair (9:09 AM):
Blair (9:09 AM): I'll be waiting
Blair (9:09 AM): ........
Blair (9:09 AM): MOM!!
Blair (9:10 AM): Check ur friggin email toothpick head!
Blair (9:11 AM): I'm leaving.
Blair (9:11 AM): GOD!
Blair (9:12 AM):
Blair (9:12 AM): I am a monster...
Blair (9:12 AM): i am going to get you...
Blair (9:13 AM): Sewie was so cute when he said that!!
Blair (9:13 AM): I mean stewie.
Blair (9:14 AM):
Blair (9:20 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): ,mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mo
Blair (9:24 AM): mo
Blair (9:24 AM): mo
Blair (9:24 AM): mo
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom
Blair (9:24 AM): 'mom
Blair (9:24 AM): mom]mmom
Blair (9:24 AM): ,mom
Blair (9:25 AM): mom
Blair (9:25 AM): JESUS!!
*************************************************************
Grins*

Wind Goddess Now Available!

Sylvia Masters lives her life by numbers. She’s a wedding planner with an ambitious eye and a will to succeed. When Tristan Calhoun hires her to put together his sister’s wedding, sparks fly. He’s a man accustomed to giving orders and being blindly obeyed. Sylvia assures him that she’ll be the one giving orders and blindly obeying isn’t in the plan, either.
Tempest, the Wind Goddess, must guide Sylvia to a happy future to ascend to a higher level. But it’s a tall order when the Wind Goddess finds herself trying to help a woman who is as stubborn as she is.
Three powerful people. A couple who don’t know whether they want to kiss or kill each other. And a massive wedding to plan.
It’s going to take a goddess.
*******************************************************************

Obsession

This is part of the OCD (Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder) cocktail.
And I gots it.
*grins*
I'm not nearly as bad as I used to be. Though my ex often called me "monkish" after Adrian Monk of USA station fame. You know...the character that boils his toothbrush and polishes the doorknobs.
I'm not nearly as frantic as I used to be about checking stats and whatnot. Though my website has increased its hits.
Hey! I didn't go cold turkey, either.

My obsessive traits include constantly checking the front door to see if its locked. (It is)
Checking my alarm clock to make sure the alarm is set for a certain time every morning. (I check four times. It's my magic number.)
The microwave MUST stop on an odd number. And I don't like to hear it ding.
If I get a word stuck in my head...God forbid. Then I have to say the word aloud. I suppose its like purging my gray matter.
All manner of oddities, I assure you.
Now.
I gotta know.
What are some of yours?
Grins*

What does my birthdate mean? Well, let me tell ya.

Your Birthdate: February 18

You are a cohesive force - able to bring many people together for a common cause. You tend to excel in work situations, but you also facilitate a lot of social gatherings too. Beyond being a good leader, you are good at inspiring others. You also keep your powerful emotions in check - you know when to emote and when to repress. Your strength: Emotional maturity beyond your years Your weakness: Wearing yourself down with too many responsibilities Your power color: Crimson red Your power symbol: Snowflake Your power month: September

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

You want to nip/tuck where???

Yeah, ok. I'll admit it. I've been checking out Foxnews.com and MSNBC.com. *sigh*
Should have known better.

And what do I see? A new kind of plastic surgery that I just NEED to blog about.
Apparently, there are ladies out there getting their goodies worked over. I'm not talking in the breastal area. Oh no. I'm talking nether region goodies.
I am horrified.
There is talk about the justification of having a tighter, more aesthetically pleasing goody area.
And to this I respond...are you freaking kidding me?

So I'm flipping through a magazine in the staff area, and what do I see?
A half page ad for clvri.com. I shit you not. The Central Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation Institute.
We have an institute for this. Process that for a moment.
A client can have Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation. Or perhaps, Designer Laser Vaginoplasty.
And then...there's the G shot.
This is also known as G-spot amplification. Ok. Let's all think about this. You're getting a shot to enlarge this lovely little spot. Pretty soon, you'll be taping it down. But, just think, if you have a healthy sneeze, you'd probably be happy all day. *grins*

I don't personally check myself out. I realize that started back in the sixties. Women with mirrors examining every nook and cranny. Methinks my nooks and crannies are fine. And if they're not *shrug* go play with someone else's.
And what are these women gonna do?
"Gee. Take a little off the top. And maybe a bit on the right side."
Or are they going to bring in a Playboy and point with a smile. "Yeah. I'll have what she's having."
Sheesh. Seriously.
This is for women with more money than sense. Or women with partners who are constantly trying to fit their women into some specific pigeonhole.
Screw that.
And keep your laser away from my goodies.
Grins*

Randomness

I. Am. Tired.

I, unfortunately, have to come into contact with a person everyday who has a stick up her ass. By God, if she's miserable, everybody else should be, too. *eye roll*
This, also, is really, really old.

Mowed the lawn yesterday. Bought "The Hollow" by Nora Roberts. Read it last night, too. Liked it better than the first. She had a great heroine in the first book. A great hero in the second. And the third has two strong characters that ought to spark ALL kinds of interesting conversations.

Thinking about a trip up to the Northeast this Summer. Plans in motion. Let ya know how it turns out. This is tied into a lovely relationship I'm in.

Hotter than hell here. So thick you could cut the air with a knife.

Writing tomorrow. Chilling out since I was a good girl *snicker* yesterday and did all my running around.
Monday finds me and the chickens at Mom's for a cookout and a little meeting with the new family pet.

I was going to go off on a tangent about something or other. More than likely the unfortunate irritating people that I sometimes come into contact with. But, ya know, they just don't deserve the space on my blog.

Reading "The Last Lecture." Only about three chapters in. And although I'm not a big fan of non-fiction, this reads like the author is talking to me. I love it.

Craving chocolate. Send mine with nuts.

All the good TV is gone for awhile. Have to dip into the summer fare, I suppose. Or I can just let the chickens play Sims.
O
M
G
There is honestly nothing funnier than watching them manage these virtual people. And it's rather telling. I get to see how they react to others, the stuff they like, and what they like to do. Interesting.
And then there's the Oldest Chicken singing the Hairspray soundtrack at the top of her lungs.
Never a dull moment at my house, let me assure you.
In fact, I can't remember the last time we even turned the TV on.
Hmmmm...imagine that.

I'm going to wrap it up. Rest my wee brain.
Have a great holiday weekend!!!
Grins*

For the love of all that's good...

...I'll update everyone Saturday.
Because, brace yourself, it's gonna be a LONG one.
Grins*

8th Grade Promotion

Yesterday was busy!!!
Got off work at noon and started the running around. Zipped to Cato's and bought a new shirt. Then Dollar Tree to pick up some decorations. Then Wal-Mart. Zipped home. Took a shower. Picked up the chickens. Raced back to town. Had Oldest Chicken's hair straightened.

It took an hour.

Her hair is so thick and curly that I honestly was climbing the walls because we didn't get out of there until five. STILL had to go to Wal-Mart for her clothes. THEN drive 25 minutes home.

o

m

g

So we hurry out of the hair place and to Wal-Mart. Probably the fastest shopping trip for me in awhile. THEN we got behind this freaking lady who had NO idea what the hell she was doing in the self-checkout. I was soooooooooooo not thinking charitable thoughts.

By this time, it's about twenty til six, and I still have a long drive. And OC was supposed to be there by 6:15. AND...we had to go by the house first and collect her gown and the rest of the family.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

So I'm driving down I-40.

Okay...I'm driving like a bat out of hell down I-40. Made it home in record time. Slammed the sodas in the fridge. Grabbed my camera. Shuffled off to school.

sheesh

It was SUCH a wonderful graduation!!! Oldest Chicken looked so good. And yeah, I gotta admit, there may have been a few tears when they called her name. *smile*

Then we went home and took so many pictures that OC said that there were dots everywhere.

lmao

Yeah, I got carried away.

*grins*

So I've got a fridge full of KFC. Freezer full of ice-cream. And a chicken headed off to high school.

Isn't it great???

Grins*

I had the weirdest dream...

...about Angelina and Brad.

I think this stems from the fact that I read yesterday that Angelina is expecting twins. And how she "loves" to be pregnant.
I think she's a nut, anyway. This just confirms my suspicions. *grins*
Brad was born in the same city I was. I think maybe my wee brain made a connection there somewhere. Because for some reason, they came to visit me and the girls. And I think we were related or something.
They're all sneaking around and trying to not to be noticed.
And somehow, we were all great friends.
It was all rather odd.
No more MSNBC for me.
Grins*

RANT

Yes
I've brewed long enough. Now I'll spew forth my opinion on several topics. Woe to those who don't like profanity. Pleasanter blogs to come later.
*******************************************************************
Don't judge me. Don't judge my actions because that's not the way you would have acted. Don't judge my grief because you don't approve. Don't you fucking dare look at me for an apology for emotions that are out of my control.
Don't manipulate every situation to suit yourself. Don't throw your hands in the fucking air, leave everything to me, then get pissed off because I took action. Screw you.
Just
damn
don't
****
Don't judge oldest chicken because of the clothes she wears. A man four times her age doesn't have the right to talk about her because it suits him. Shame on you. And aren't you old enough to know better? And by the way, the girls' school wants females to wear dresses at promotion. OC doesn't own a dress. I've fired off a letter this morning informing the principal she'll be wearing nice dress pants. Don't pull your authoritarian bullshit with me. It's gender bias, in my opinion.
****
How DARE you fucked-up people have children and lock them in the basement! Or train them to be a dominatrix at eleven! Or any of that other sick bullshit that the world almost didn't find out about.
There's a special place in hell for people like you.
****
How DARE you hike gas prices up when people are barely making it as it is. And then the government wants people to spend the stimulus money on luxuries? Luxuries right now are food and gas, you presidential jackass.
****
How dare you dress your child(ren) in rags while your hair is perfectly manicured and so are your fingernails. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being.
**************************************************************************
Ah.
I feel better.
*breathing deeply*
Nicer blog to come this evening.
Crystal*

Happy Mother's Day!!!

I won't be online this weekend, so I'm sending this out to all those ladies out there with chickens of their own. And well, everybody. Because we didn't hatch now, did we? lmao
Here's a story from MSNBC. And I find it truly hilarious.
Hope you enjoy:
Postcards From Yo Momma is one of those Web sites that makes you slap your forehead and say, "Why didn't I think of that?" It's such a simple idea: invite people to submit unintentionally funny, and sometimes sweet, e-mails from their mothers. You know the ones--the naggy notes, the worried pleas, the guilt-grams, the ALL CAPS missives, the technologically panicked cries for help and the e-mails from moms who compulsively forward dire health warnings to their kids. (Munchausen's by Internet anyone?)
"Call me. I suffer," writes one mom.
And another: "tell me about face book. do you have a page on it? can anyone look at your page? I am worried about this type of thing."
Then there's the short, but direct variety: "std's are on the rise. love, mom."
Here are excerpts of some of our favorite e-mails and IMs submitted to the site:
***Have fun in Houston . Keep in touch with your strawberry
***good news!Our insurance covers : THE HPV VACCINATION.but, this is NOT a license to have wild, unprotected sex, y'know!! hehehhehehee.xox,mom
***Mom: hi kid. on the way to jumble java, i started crying. the kids are moving in to the dorms today and i saw a dad hugging his daughter goodbye and i lost it. that feeling never goes away.
:( mom
Me: don't be lame, mom
Mom: i hope i live long enough to see you experience the same feeling. and i'm not lame.
Me: well at the rate i'm going, i doubt you'll be around to see my kids go to college. even if i do have some, they'll have three heads because i won't have them until i'm 50.
Mom: well then it will be three times as hard to say goodbye.
***Dad and I deposited some money into your bank account since it looks like you blew your last paycheck at H&M.
***Dear Child:
Mummy has to go away on a boat that Daddy will be driving or floating or whatever one does with boats and what with sharks and stingrays and lord only knows what, and also with not being able to swim and with your father being the captain
I'm probably going to drown so I just wanted you to know that this is the sort of thing I go along with because I love daddy so much and I want him to think I'm a sporty, athletic, floatable kind of person instead of, you know, a middle aged lump of non-swimming-ness. Also I wanted to say that I always loved you best of all my children and you must fight for 80% of The Will (I'm taking your father down with me, if I go.... And name all your grandchildren Judith. Even the boys. If I had to put up with it they can too....
Much love
Mummy
***me: mother?
mom: Hey
Jenname: Look at you on Gmail!
mom: How did this happen?
me: How did what happen?
mom: How did you know I was on Gmail? and I didn't know it had IM.
me: I am something of a genius, mom.
***Hi Son, We already sent the response card to your uncle but try calling him or Amy and try asking if you could bring a friend to the wedding. You are about the same age and you played with her while you were kids.For your second question, we usually just let them figure it out. Just wear a appropriate outfit and I like your hair shorter like last time. Being gay i genetic, maybe Dad's side, and we will always love you and we are very proud of you. We are just glad that God gave us two wonderful children.
Love, Dad and Mom
***... We just got a Tivo in the living room. I like it, but I can't figure out how to work it. But Mo knows how, so hopefully she can just keep programming it til me and Dad are dead. Love you!
***... I heard on the radio that people can google themselves. I've done a lot of things to myself before, but I've never googled myself.
***I love you. I will pray for you. Be sure and take some kind of i.d. so if your plane crashes and burns they will know who to call. Hope you do that on all your trips anyway. That way if I don't get a dreadful call, I will know you are just fine and happy.
***This is the best article I have seen on the risks associated with oral sex and how to reduce them. I had never heard of a dental dam before. Please do read this. Love, Mom
***I was in the car listening to the radio, and who is this "shorty" they keep talking about in rap songs?
***me: hi mom
mom: hi pookie...i just booked tickets for zumanity. miss you
me: What is zumanity?mom: it is a very erotic show that explores sexuality. hopefully dad will enjoy it. Lol. it is at new york new york where we are staying
me: oh dear lord. does dad know about this?
mom: yeah....it explores gay stuff too. he he. he shold be ok...there are boobs in it too. zumanity.com
me: well i can't click on that right now because i'm at work
mom: oh...maybe later then
***Lazy boy,I was very surprised to hear your message last night. I already forgot I still have a son in Chicago.
***Lori (Greg's) is pregnant-by the way, she is 31. Also Michelle (Ted's) is expecting in August.
***Me: Do you read my blog? I can track who is reading it and I think you may be. Me no likey mother.
Mom: What's a blag?
Me: It is a sin to lie. Don't play coy with me!! Are you reading my "online journal"?
Mom: I barely have time to call you! I don't know how to do my space or whatever it is. You may recall that when I asked you about how it worked, you never showed me.
***If you are ever thinking about giving up your (beautiful custom handmade) dresser unit, (that Tom made for YOU), please let me know before you throw it out. I really do know that you and Charles are not into wood, and you'd like to get something new, sleek and chrome, silver, or whatever. I've discussed this with Tom. It won't hurt any body's feelings, at this point in time. I can't imagine that you would hold onto something as a keepsake. Please let me know. asap. It's really OK.
***paulhiitsyourmomtryingtolearnemailitsverycoldheretoday-degreesyesterdaywas38hopethisworkslovemom
*******************************************************
LMAO
Grins*

Love me some nose spray

This morning I was rocking along with my bad self. Semi-conscious (which I really all I can ask for at 7:15 am). Took a couple of mucinex for my cough. All is well. Still wore the hell out but actually ambulatory.
Now it's 4:35. My nostrils are closing up. I can just feel them. And what did I forget? WHAT DID I FORGET???
The damn nose spray. *sigh* But it's a short sigh. Because currently my nostrils aren't working.
pffffttttt
For the love of God.

I think I forgot to tell everyone that my favorite bra broke. I only mention this because I'm currently wearing one that I've never worn before, and um, not sure if I like it or not. My favorite was a lovely maroon. And it broke after I went to go put it on after tanning.
O
M
G
That's right. At lunch. You know...that short period of time you have between leaving work and going back to it?
Lucky for me, I kinda had this two shirt thing going on. Actually one shirt but it had this underthingy sewn in. So I just bip back to work with the girls swinging free and easy. *grins*
Wasn't too obvious, thank God. Or I may have had to book it home.
But that brings me back to the bra I have on now.
Not sure if I care for it or not.
It's a lovely red lacy job. Embroidery here and there. *shrug* Just not the same.
There really is something about finding the perfect bra. Oh, and the fact that I toasted my tatas tanning today.
Try that on for some hellacious alliteration.
Grins*

It's Wednesday? You don't say.

I worked Saturday. And I use the term "work" loosely. I vaguely remember inhaling decongestants at a rapid rate of speed. The day is, quite frankly, a blur. I called in Monday and Tuesday because I honestly thought my sinuses were going to explode. Today is a bit better, but I still have the lovely cough that reminds me of why I adore my bed so much.
*sigh*
Didn't write AT ALL Monday. Consciousness was a perk that day. But I did write a bit yesterday. Couple thousand words on WATS and around three thousand on Earth Goddess.
So I'm feeling a little better about life in general. I'm also in the midst of editing Wind Goddess.
It's another lovely day here in Oklahoma. The sun is hiding, and the rain is coming down like a mother. Thank God the chickens are in school. Because they spazz out in weather like this. LOL
I usually work a late night tonight but didn't because of a schedule change and a meeting. So I'll be going home at a decent hour and making some chicken and mac 'n' cheese. And then finding my lovely pillow and getting horizontal on my couch. Mebbe tap out a few more words. Depends on how the day treats me.
Grins*

Water chickens

Waterfalls in Oklahoma...who knew?

How we spent Friday

Yeah. I slid off that sucker. TWICE! Even though I was shared shitless.

I promised the chickens. And let me tell you...it may not look like much, but I'm probably missing about a decade of my life now. Middle Chicken is on top.

WHAT?

Last weekend I only had two chickens. This weekend I will have my three plus two more.
Yeah.
Do the math.
I let Middle Chicken convince me that two of her lovely friends should come over. From Friday evening until Sunday afternoon.
I really don't think there's enough Xanax in the world. But that's just me.
Seem to be dragging my ass lately. No energy. Sucked down a Red Bull this morning in the industrial size can. Allergies are acting up. So I balanced out my Red Bull with a decongestant.
*grins*
The results should be, ah, interesting.
Last night I worked late, and the chickens, once again, decided to grace me with their presence until about twelve-thirty. I need the lowdown, of course. So it's all good.
Until I have to prop my peepers open with toothpicks. Then it's all downhill. pfffttttt
Working on the writing this weekend. Going to tune out the short people. Stock up on snacks and movies. Let them go to town with it.
And did I mention that at least one of the other two adopted chickies is JUST LIKE Middle Chicken?
Oh yeah. *grins* It's like having a blond Middle Chicken in my midst.
I'm off work tomorrow. Taking the chickens (who are out EVERY Friday in the month of May) on a field trip.
Pictures to come.
Grins*