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Thursday, March 06, 2014

**UPDATE** Bailey Quarters

This is for "annie". An update of photos of Jan Smithers who played Bailey Quarters on WKRP. Apparently, lots of people love this woman. I hope she knows that. I did this post waaay back in '09 and it still gets hits all the time.

If looks tell a story, I think she must be
a sweetheart. What a natural beauty.
Bailey & Andy,
sitting in a tree...
I wished they had




















I was going to search for more recent photos of Ms. Smithers, but when I read that she'd retired from acting, I decided to leave her to her privacy.

The original cast
Come to think of it, since it's the show we all liked, maybe we should leave the characters in our memories as they were.

Peace
--Free

***LINKS LIST*** For Writers

I haven't done this for a while, but here are a list of resources that might be useful to other writers out there. I scanned various sites for the links, so I can't vouch for every single one. Enjoy.



Groups/Orgs 
(Not really my thing. Some can be pricey or a bit gimmicky, but different strokes, right?)

Agents (info and guides)

Self-Publishing Info

Language (Grammar, Aids, Usage, etc.)
Mood/Concentration Helps
Last of all, I'll suggest a book that helped reinforce in me the knowledge that, whether I publish or not, I am a writer. I'm not much on taking advice about writing (other than for style and such), but John Gardner's "On Becoming a Novelist" was the first book on writing given to me as a young woman. Reading that book was a turning point for me. I've got to get another copy. I suggest that any writer buy it or find it in their library to read. Here's an Amazon link to the author's works.

Good luck, good writing, and

Peace
--Free

Wednesday, March 05, 2014

What the Ring Means

I was checking out a Tumblr post by a web buddy (okay, really we are sisters of the heart) of mine. She was talking about the 10+ club. It's a wife thing for women married 10 years or more. What a bitter-sweet read for me. Matter of fact, I didn't read the post through, because just seeing it literally put an ache in my heart.

One thing I took from the post was thoughts about love, marriage, divorce and life stages; choices, decisions, regrets, and acceptance.

The ring I put on as a first-time newlywed was more a symbol of hope and trust than it was of love. I didn't understand any of those three things. I had no clear plan of hope; trust was a concept I'd only learn by having it broken; and my love was not mature. I think now about the biblical story of Hosea and Gomer.

The ring I put on the second time I married was given all the respect the first ring deserved. That second marriage was penance of a sort. I paid for every childish mistake from before and probably put a down-payment on future mistakes I haven't even considered yet.

There are times now when I wear a cheap band or solitaire on my ring finger. I wear these when I don't want to be "hit on", or when I want to remind myself of what I've cost myself in missed memories and milestones.

Maybe, one day, I will wear another ring that is an echo of the first. If it's true that there really are no mistakes - just learned lessons - then I will be so much wiser. I am wiser anyway.

For women who have made it into the 10+ circle, I want to congratulate you. You hung in there and stayed even when the romance waned and "real life" took over. You can look back with smiles at the photographs of a dress and cake that were only symbols. Your time with the one you bound yourself to, the doubts you endured, the struggles - all those are what count. You chose to grow old with the one special person who also chose you and now, these however many years later, you can say you made it this far. Keep going. I hope all those ladies make the 20-year Club and beyond.

For the other ladies, like me, we've also endured journeys of our own. That we are still able to find happiness of our own is our special testament.

Peace
--Free

Food Ahh's and Ick's

This food detox I'm enduring (yeah, it's been a whole 15 hours) has me thinking a lot about, well, food.

How much of what we hear about "the latest" berry, oil or seed is hype the greedy? There has to be something good about any natural food, I'm sure. What I wonder about is whether I need a pantry/fridge full of every kind of seed, berry, nut, tree, leaf or twig.

My shopping plan for eating better is real simple: whatever is grown, pure, colorful and on sale.
Problem is, I can be a sometimes picky eater. I have a thing about textures (hate grit, love creamy) and I'm hypersensitive to flavors.

I'm considering adding a couple of new things to my pantry though:


  • Chia seeds - I like the idea (if true) that they hydrate the body. One claim I need to check on is that they promote weight loss by "preventing food absorption". That sounded great when I first read it, but I have to wonder if, by the same process, the seeds will prevent the absorption of nutrients. I get all yin yang in my feelings about stuff like this. I really hate this type of trendy hype. Since chia seeds taste nice (and might actually help the heart),  I don't care if they do anything for weight loss and will probably give them a try.
  • Flax-seed - Even if I don't try chia, I will most definetly be adding some flaxseed to my blended concoctions. Reading about it on WebMD, I was pleased to see the Omega-3 and fiber mentioned, but my beady little peepers lit right up at the note about estrogen. The woman out there will know where I'm coming from with that one. (By the way, I just love that WebMD. Not as much as I love my docs, but they're probably glad I'm not calling them up with my random questions at... 6:15 AM   Pretty sure about that!

I hope flax-seed doesn't tasted disgusting. Already I'm thinking "gritty-grimy" as far as the texture. Maybe all the pulp in my "Veg-oothies"** (I made that up, so don't go stealing it) will protect my taste buds.

Now, getting to the ahh's and ick's I headlined with, here are some of my faves/not-faves as far as food:

  • Liver - I used to hate this so much that I would gag when Mom forced it on me. I'd spit that nastiness right out the second she wasn't looking and actually scrape at my tongue with my dinner napkin. UGH! As I've matured (in all kinds of ways), I find I don't mind eating liver. If I don't have to handle it raw. Is it not the most disgusting common food known to exist? My sister cooks it with onions, with or without gravy, and that is some good eating. Sometimes. I have to be in the mood for it.And I only like beef liver, which is the chewier kind.
  • Gizzards - Love, love, LUV chicken gizzards. I cook them with a little olive oil and some garlic salt. Of course, I look like some kind of crazed freak of nature while I'm gnawing around those tough little ligaments (or whatever) to get at all the meat. Thing is, you have to eat like a pan full of them to satisfy hunger. I have never eaten a gizzard in the company of all but my nearest and dearest. One time I lost my grip while tugging the meat from one and it shot across the table and hit my uncle in the face. So, yeah. My life and times...
  • Cabbage - Never been a fan of cabbage. When I was about fifteen, I brought my mother a head of lettuce from the store because I thought it was a cabbage. (You ever tell anyone about that, I'll hunt you down to laugh with you about it.) My family likes to cook it in water with oil and salt pork. And this is why so many black people have "high blood" and "the sugar diabetes". Help us, Jesus.
  • Beets - Just started eating them without pickling juices. Not crazy about these solo, but like tossing them into blends or drinking the raw juice. Not a bad juice, just don't wear clothes or get near furniture while you guzzle. That vegetable stains air.

My basic plan is simple: getting lots of fresh air and exercise and putting better stuff in my body. I used to think that "eating better" meant choosing making better fast-food choices. I'd get the green tea latte at Starbucks or the McDonald's ranch salad. I thought I was being smart, but I was just spending more money than I needed for stuff that only sounded healthy. Let's take a look at some those choices.
The biggest thing about eating (or drinking) something that sounds healthy is that almost anything can be made to sound healthy.

I'm not saying that I will never go to Starbucks again, but I'm going to go less and go smarter. As this article suggests, I'll use a this-not-that way of choosing my treats.

Like a lot of people, I tend to point out that I only eat fast food occasionally. The thing is, I don't like mystery about what I'm ingesting - ever. While, again, not everything you read is true, this article pretty much put me off McNuggets for life. I used to love McNuggets more than I loved the last man I was with, and now I realize neither of them was any good for me. Ick.

This list of the 18 Most Sickening Food Ingredients gave me dry heaves. I'm going to need a Valium the next time I enter a grocery store. This article was way funnier and had "sex" in the title (even though I'd rather eat beetle ass than condom lubricant). I was only alarmed by a few claims.

All giggling aside, I think that we need to be more aware of what we're putting into our bodies. We've heard so much about what's bad for us, we've gotten tired of listening.

Peace
--Free

Monday, March 03, 2014

**REVIEW** The Detox is ON!

 Okay, so I'm not juicing my food so much as liquefying it. 

Because I am closer to being homeless than I am to living the high life, I had to do a lot of research and comparison shopping before I settled on what type of appliance to purchase. Thanks to a really good friend (Hi, Perry), I was gifted with fifty bucks toward the buy. Here are the products I considered (and why I didn't choose any of them):

Magic Bullet - Too plastic, too many parts & pieces, yet not enough power for constant heavy-duty use. (Sounds like I'm talking about a whole other type of "magic", doesn't it!) Besides the lack of power, I really couldn't be bothered with making space for, or keeping track of, all those dang parts. It is cute though.
Magic Bullet $50 - $60 (250 watts)


NutriBullet - Had better wattage at 600, but for that much money, it should. Besides, I read too many reviews about leaks, rusting, cracking and - my pettest of peeves: poor customer service and contact. Also... plastic! I'm not real fond of anything plastic when it comes to using long-term use of anything coming in contact with my food. Pro: comes in a variety of cute colors. Add to cons: too many parts.



NutriBullet around $100

Ninja - I would've have run when I saw the price but I felt too faint to move fast. This baby can go for $100 to $260 and up. I wasn't able to run, but I sure as hell got away fast enough not to notice whether or not this one had color options. I did notice that it packs 1000 watts at the low end model. I don't know about wattage for the higher end ones. At 260 bucks, I don't really care.
Ninja. 1000 watts at the lower end


Vitamix - If I felt faint looking at the price on a Ninja, I damn near puddled right to the floor when I saw the (gasp) $440 tag on this monster.The product service plan of $45 is what I had to spend when I walked in the store. Don't ask about the wattage. For this price level, that bitch would have to run my car before I'd buy it.  For the price, I could hire a personal chef for an eighth of an hour.


Pro: not many parts. They probably cost another arm...
I heard about another blender that runs around playing in the 600-dollar range. I left it playing and kept my ass in the world of the real. I won't even mention that madness. If you pay $600 for anything that doesn't cook, clean or sleep with you at night, you better be friends with Oprah or Bill if you don't want people waiting for you fall on your financial face. Hah!

Annnny-way...

I had fifty bucks, health on my mind, and a need for power. I found this for $40 and spent another $5 for a 2 year repair/replacement warranty:


Farberware 4-speed digital at 800 watts.
Chile, I almost stepped on a woman's foot trying to snatch that bad-boy off the shelf.
Single-serve cup attachment
I'll probably never use it with the blender, but that single-serve cup is perfect for packing with me on my errands.

An 800-watt motor, stainless still facing, and a glass jar. Perfection. (The travel cup is plastic but... whatever.)

The Pros: Easy set-up (once I decided not to bother with the travel cup), not a bunch of pesky pieces to deal with, and it's very sturdy, and powerful but not very loud. LOVE that not-loud part since I have a bitchy upstairs neighbor and a room mate who wastes every hour of the day in front of the living room television set...

The Cons: That freaking travel cup. I couldn't take the hassle of changing out between it and the glass jar.

I like that I don't have to monitor it while it's blending. It has a very cool way of stopping and restarting so as to let the contents settle for better blending. (Did that make sense???) 

The real test, of course, is how well it works. It does a super job. My first blend was one of carrots, kale, collards, spinach, turnip greens....

.... beets, strawberries, blueberries apples, banana and...

... about a cup of store-bought carrot juice I had left from last week.

Yeah. So.

That's a pretty crazy mix, but I'm a pretty crazy chick. I think I just got carried away with tossing in more stuff and watching the colors blend. It was fun until I realized I had 42 ounces of liquefied goodness that might taste like crap. So I squeezed in a little honey. 

The color: amazingly pretty. Sort of a beet-red/Prince-purple look. Gorgeous. Oh, wait - I was thinking of Prince. ~sigggggh~ But the juice was also gorgeous. The taste: deee-lisshus. Really. It was pretty thick, but pulp is what I wanted, which is why I decided on getting a blender instead a juicer. I don't want to pay all that money for produce to just toss out the best (and most nutritious?) part. Besides, I think that fiber won't hurt when it comes to filling me up and (ha ha) emptying me out. (Too much information? Sorry.)

I had 20 ounces to sip for my all-day meal and still have about 20 million ounces (kidding) left for the freezer. I'm going to have to see how freezing affects nutrients...

Anyway, I'll try to update here as I get through the coming weeks. My plan at the moment is to do an all- (or, mostly-) liquid intake for a month as a junk-food detox. Okay, it's really more about vanity. Summer will soon be here and I'd like to have my skin and hair ready for this round-the-clock Alaska sun that allows one to hide NOTHIN. 

Well, off to bed for me. I used up the last of my energy sucking down the rest of my "meal". 

Peace
--Free




(And because I just have  to post a reminder pic of GOALS)


You can do this chica!

Cancerians

***(UPDATE: I recently realized that indulging in horoscopes is not something I should be doing. In dealing with astrology, I was ignoring Isaiah 47:10-14 - and other passages. Often in my life, I was using the idea of being a "Cancer" to excuse some of my behavior. I am sorry for leading anyone astray with this or any other posts.)***

I'm a crab, a cancer (so to speak) on the ass of all that is boring, ordinary and plain. We Cancers are hard to describe, but I'll try.

As friends:

  • Can be incredibly childish and incredibly mature, all depending on where the second hand is on the clock.
  • Can't understand why everyone doesn't think, feel, care or live the way they do.
  • Will forgo every financial need and obligation they have to give you money if you need it.
  • Will not take money from you unless they are starving, in heat or just have to have that pair of shoes they saw at Nordstrom.
  • Will do random and puzzling things when you least expect it - like get you that two-hundred dollar bottle of perfume you mentioned three years ago was your favorite.
  • If mad at you about something, they will wish for at least ten minutes that you smell like rat piss every time you use that perfume they bought you.
  • Will do whatever they have to do to make you smile if they think someone else hurt your feelings.
  • Will put Wile E. Coyote to shame in thinking of ways to pay back the person who hurt you.
  • Will tell you about these plans when you are feeling better and make you decide you should never, ever, tell the crazy bitch again about someone hurting your feelings.
  • Will make you feel beautiful and smart and crazy-cool just when you need it the most.
  • Will tell you, when you are able to hear it, to please, lord-a-mercy, never wear those green and yellow pin-stripe pajama pants to the store again unless you want her to pretend she doesn't know you.
  • Won't ignore you the first time you show up at the store in those ugly pajama pants, but will find reasons to walk far ahead or behind you the whole time you're in public.
As siblings:
  • Will keep a family secret so long that one brother won't find out that another brother joined the military until the second brother has been stationed in Germany for three months.
  • Will call her mother, sister or favorite aunt with a secret "I'm okay" code-word on a set schedule whenever she's dating someone new.
  • Will idolize her siblings to the point where they no longer seem possibly human.
  • Will cut off contact with anyone who does the slightest malicious harm to one single member of her family - even after that family member has forgiven the other person and moved on.
  • Will lie to her brothers that everything is fine in her relationship, even when they are not, just so they don't start looking to hire a hit man to take out the jackass making their little sister unhappy.
  • Will sometimes think about hiring a beat-that-ass-down man in place of a hit man to deal with the jackass herself.
  • Thinks her brothers can do no wrong this side of Heaven, yet forbid any of her friends to ever even think about dating them.
  • Loves her family to the point of never being able to be out of touch with them.
  • Wanting to be in touch with them from a distance of at least ten miles for the sake of her privacy and sanity.
  • Will go into Witness Protection to guard her privacy from her family.
  • Will break Witness Protection rules to call her family and tell them the things she does want them to know.
  • Needs nothing else in her life as long she knows she has a family who loves her.
As loners:
  • Really hate having their private time invaded.
  • Really hate being ignored when they want to be acknowledged.
  • Will, as payback, teach anyone who dares ignore them the distilled essence of being ignored.
  • Get over being ignored by going back into their private world.
  • Once in their private world, they've locked out the real world.
  • They don't care if your hairdryer malfunctioned and you are running around the house with flaming hair and yelling things about calling 9-1-1. You are just being a freaking nuisance!
  • Can get lost in thought for hours over the most mundane and trivial part of a book, conversation or situation if it moved them in the slightest.
  • Escape from real world dilemmas by thinking of the alternate world they would create for themselves if they could.
  • Wonder sometimes if their sort of creativity is actually a form of delightful madness.
  • Don't mind the idea of a delightful madness because that's an idea they can spend a lifetime exploring.
  • Turn every good and bad thing in life into something they can use to create, express and share.
As lovers
  • Will love deeply some things about you, yet wonder how they hell they are going to keep from killing you in your sleep over other things.
  • Can pour out their heart to you in a letter, but find it hard to un-glue their tongues from the roof of their mouth when you are looking them right in the eye.
  • Will ignore you sometimes to the point you want to check your own pulse to see if you exist, then, at the turn of a switch, will turn into a sex-starved nymphomaniac who leaves you weak and breathless.
  • Will sometimes get irritated by your presence if you hang around them too closely.
  • Will hunt you down like a bloodhound on the scent if you don't call them.
  • Will wonder why the hell you breathe so fucking loud when they are trying to daydream.
  • Will wonder if you're upset with them if you don't talk to them for twenty minutes.
  • Will not speak one word to you if you've pissed them off, not even if the house were on fire, but will wake you up at 3 a.m. to make sure that you're okay because they had a dream that you got hurt.
  • Will wake you up at 3 a.m. just to talk about something that occurred to them and that needs to be discussed. In depth. Even though you both have to be up for work in a few hours.
  • Will hate you with all the fires of Hell if you even mention that you're tired and have to be up for work in a few hours.
  • Won't let you see them naked if they had too much water that day and feel the least bit bloated.
  • Will catch you off-guard and ravish you in the middle of your morning shower because they woke up feeling like their ass looks especially good that day.
  • You'll sometimes wonder how you ever existed on this earth with any amount of joy before they came into your life.
  • Other times, you'll want to smack the piss out them because they their ways and means are just are not to be understood by the human mind.
Cancerians are odd, weird, lovely, adorable and crazy as hell. What would the world be without us?

Peace
--Free

Sunday, March 02, 2014

Grown, Strong, Cute & Sexy

Grown:

  • Not always responding in anger even when you might have a right or reason to, even if it makes you look weak, ass-kissing or embarrassed.
  • Saying "ma'am" and "sir" to someone above you in age, rank, title or experience.
  • Saying "please" and "thank you" even to people who don't have the sense to do the same.
  • Speaking to those present when you enter a room even when they are too rude to speak back.
  • Not taking offense when elderly people do or say something fairly harmless that seems to be a throwback of the past. It's not "throwback" to them, it's their life and times.
  • Never taking simple kindness for granted.
  • Knowing that it often takes more maturity to follow than it does to lead; to listen than to speak.
  • Knowing the difference between listening and hearing.
  • Being able to take criticism in the spirit in which it is given.
  • Not thinking that everyone's main goal in life should be to end up as a "baller" or "shot-caller".
  • Learning to forgive, even though you don't have to forget or condone something.
  • Not cussing at will and random, no matter who's around, just because you know some really good cuss words.
  • Not acting like an ass if you don't want to be treated like one.
  • Not walking the walk and talking the talk of a hoodlum and then being offended when people assume you are a hoodlum.
  • Ditto for whore, bitch, "gangsta", or dumbass.

Strong:

  • A strong man knows how to be gentle.
  • A strong woman doesn't have to be loud to get her point across.
  • A strong man won't hit a woman just to prove he can or will.
  • A strong person knows that it sometimes takes more strength to walk away from a fight than it does to throw a punch.
  • If you are going to "settle" something with violence, throwing punches takes more skill and wit than pulling a gun.
  • Packing a gun doesn't make you strong, it just makes you armed.
  • Controlling someone with fear is a form of cowardice.
  • Strong is a lifestyle, not a shape, size or personality.
  • It takes more strength to work through problems than it does to work around them.
  • It takes more strength to put aside differences than it does to perpetuate them
Cute:
  • Cute is a child who can recite the alphabet, the multiplication tables or reads learns poetry and prayers. 
  • Cute is a child who has good manners.
  • Cute is not the kid who can sing or dance to the latest Katy Perry or Jay Z song when they haven't yet learned to wipe their behinds correctly.
  • Cute us not the kid carrying the latest cell phone when they don't understand that money was not created just for their joy and comfort.
  • Cute is someone who understands they are wonderfully and awesomely formed no matter what their shape, size or color.
  • Brains without sense is not cute.
  • Brawn without character is not cute.
  • A jerk of a person with all the boobs, muscles, money or status in the world is no cuter than a decorated piece of wood is a cake.
Sexy:
  • Sexy is not your hair, height, bra size or whatever you may be packing in your pants.
  • Sexy can't be bought, taught, worn or given away.
  • Sexy is whatever it needs to be to whoever finds whatever it is sexy.
  • Your sexy might not be my sexy, but it's still sexy.
  • Sexy is not defined by how "pretty", thin, tall, curvy or rich you might be.
  • Sexy is tricky until you find your own.
  • Once you get it, sexy has no expiration date.
I'm almost there, but I will always be working on being grown, strong, cute and sexy.

Peace
--Free

Friday, February 28, 2014

Game the Game

Forget that saying about not hating the player and hating the game. Life is not a game. Don't envy the rich and famous. Understand them.

  • They sit on toilets. Just like you do.
  • They probably feel a little more self-conscious than you do when they do sit on toilets.
  • They have picked their noses. Just like you have.
  • Imagine their horror vs yours if they ever get caught picking their noses.
  • They have morning breath. Just like you do.
  • Their morning breath might even be worse, if they actually do all the things they've been accused of.
  • They have bad breath sometimes. Just like you do.
  • Their bad breath might get reported on in a gossip rag. Horror!
  • They lie awake some nights, feeling lonely, worried, scared, unloved and unappreciated. Just like you do.
  • Most of them do what they do so that they don't feel that way. 
  • That very deep middle of the crack of their butt smells. Just like yours does.
  • You'd look better too, if you had the resources they had.
  • Some of them don't look much better than you do, even with all those resources.
  • You might look better.
  • In person, you probably do look better. You can't Photoshop 'in-person'.
  • They spend their days working on their image.
  • You spend your days working on your life.
  • They might have a bigger funeral, but you're both going to be dead.
  • They live under a lot of pressure. They choose to live under that pressure.

There are days I'd like to swap lives with some of these people. Then there are days when I think of all the ways I'm not like a "Real Housewife", porn star, celebrity socialite or anyone with more than 50,000 Twitter followers. I think about things like...
  • I don't wear false eyelashes and contoured eye makeup.
  • If I did, I wouldn't have it on by eight in the morning.
  • After I got it on, I'd need touch-ups about every three minutes.
  • To be honest, I can't wear more than a little eye shadow ever since I damn near put my eye out with a sharp eye-lining pencil.
  • I definitely can't wear a full-on face of foundation, the stroke my face thoughtfully without leaving a complete set of my fingerprints on every piece of white clothing I own.
  • My foundation doesn't come in shades like 'Peach" or "Barely Nude'. Mine come with names like 'Chocolate Kiss' and 'Color Me Cocoa'. 
  • Cameras following me around my house would catch at least one shot of a junk drawer, messy closet or magazines and books that don't look like I bought them that very day and never opened them.
  • My outfits are never so runway glam, photo-ready casual or carelessly chic.
  • I don't photograph well at just any moment.
  • I don't photograph well at all without the proper lighting, angle and a sponge to erase the shine on my face.
  • I look like I've worked out after I go to the gym.
  • Sometimes, I looked like I've died and been medically resuscitated after I've gone to the gym.
  • My hair would never be so well-maintained after tennis, jogging or romping around in bed.
  • My hair barely looks so well-maintained after I've spent twenty minutes maintaining it.
  • I don't like men trying to "run their fingers through my hair."
  • To be real about it, it would take something more than a man to run his fingers anything but over this natural hair.
  • He has to be special to me before I let him even touch my hair.
  • I'm a black woman. I don't let water near my hair unless I've got my entire styling kit and a good half hour to deal with the situation.
  • I am not ready to smile for the camera two minutes after eating spinach fritata, blackened ribs, or whatever food has any kind of coloring in it whatsoever.
  • Who takes those "intimate" selfies of celebrity couples snuggling in bed?
  • Who wants someone hanging around to take those selfies?
  • Why the hell is it so hard to do cat-eye makeup on over-20 eyes?
  • Am I the only one that likes to take a quick shower before having sex?
  • Why are there more unattractive actors than unattractive actresses?
  • Why don't I look as good chewing food, blowing my nose or waking up in the morning as characters on TV?
  • Why are so many real life things edited out of even those movies that are supposed to be about "real" people?
  • I don't have wild sex with strange men who just happened to come to my door in a fake workman's outfit offering to take care of my plumbing.
  • Okay, I lied, but it only happened once and I found out that my then husband is not very good at role-playing.
Yeah. So. My life may not be perfect, but that's what makes it a life.

Peace
--Free

Kita Reloaded

The fam has new kitties. We said we weren't going to, but we got a brother and sister. I wasn't thrilled about falling in love with another cat after Kita died...


My beautiful Kita

Kita as a kitten
But...

black cat is a boy, the other is a girl

Extreme cuteness

JP's hand looks GIANT next to them

7 weeks old. They love each other

"Let go of me!"

We are still trying to come up with names. I've thought of Kid and Play, Storm and Snow. One of my nieces wanted to call them Tom and Jerry. Dummy didn't know that only Tom is a cat! My Aussie friend got silly and thought of Kanga and Roo, which is actually kind of cute. We are too sad about our past cats to use their names, but I did think of Go (for Goku) and Ki(ta)...

For now, I think of this one as "Bonsai Kita".

Little honey
My toddler nephew is learning to leave them alone. He's discovered they have claws and they've discovered that, around DJ, claws might come in handy. The dogs, Wally and Shadow, think they are rats. I think they are just adorable.

Peace
--Free

Thursday, February 27, 2014

My Writer's Wishlist


  • Fingers that type as fast as thoughts come into my head.
  • To have my thoughts print right out onto the page.
  • To think my story right into the heads of readers.
  • Not wasting time thinking thoughts like those last three.
  • The ability to read through my work without adding, deleting and re-writing parts.
  • To not have to stop and laugh, cry or meditate on something I've written.
  • For writers to get the same kind of attention that someone does for doing something idiotic or pointless that went "viral" online.
  • Someone to clean my house when I get into a writing mania and just cannot be bothered with  doing earthly things like chores.
  • Money enough to write without worrying about work or whether the bills in my mailbox are white, blue or pink this month.
  • A sponsor.
  • A sponsor with a big bank account and a bigger heart for artists.
  • A sponsor who doesn't think that sleeping with him is part of the deal.
  • A drink.
  • A drink and a cigarette, if I could still smoke.
  • Being able to smoke only when I am in writing mode and being able to not smoke when I'm out of writing mode.
  • A magic mug that refills itself with hot coffee, cream and sugar as I need it.
  • A safe, non-addictive drug like cocaine that would let me write for hours on end without becoming fatigued but that wouldn't cause wars or any other type of crime.
  • God to let me live long enough to finish writing out all the stories I have in stored in my heart and soul.
  • Some way to make all these wishes come true.
  • And, if I can't have these wishes, then I'd settle for all the stuff on my Amazon list.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Real Friends


  • I talk with them using my 'real' voice and not that one I use for answering the phone and talking to strangers.
  • They talk to me the same way.
  • We laugh about our other voices.
  • Laughed with them and didn't worry what I looked like while I was laughing.
  • Let the them see see me looking like hell, when I had a good reason for looking like hell.
  • Let them see me looking like hell, even when I didn't have a good reason.
  • They encouraged me, without hurting my feelings or esteem, not to look like hell unless it was for a good reason.
  • If it was for a good reason, they didn't care what I looked like, they only cared what I was feeling.
  • Exposed my body, my mind and my soul, without thinking about being exposed.
  • Spent time with them - with no music, TV, or noise needed to mask the silence.
  • Cried my eyes out when I was sad.
  • Cursed a rainbow-ed streak when I was mad.
  • They know my family and have met the skeletons.
  • They and my family (and the skeletons) are now family too.
  • I might not hear from them for weeks but, when I do, we are the same friends we've always been and will always be.
  • When we are out together and look at someone, then look at each other, we read each other's minds.
  • Doing that sometimes gets us in trouble.
  • We are used to getting into a little trouble together.
  • Walked away in the middle of their visit when the urge to write hit me.
  • Let them make my home their home.
  • Fell asleep next to them (male or female) in bed after we spent hours talking, or because it was way too late/dark/cold for them to go home, or because they were too tired/drunk/cried out/silly to drive home.
  • If one of us is sick, the other one is going to be there or call or do what we have to do to show we care.
  • I let them use my computer and not worry about them seeing my browser history.
  • I've seen their browser history and we're still friends.
  • Pulled down my pants, lifted my bra or took off my shoe to ask if they knew what the hell that was about.
  • Did a Google Search with them when they had no idea what the hell that was.
  • Laughed like a maniac with them when we finally did figure out what the hell that was.
  • Didn't drop them as a friend for life when they told me why I should never, ever, wear that one pink shade of lipstick again.
  • Didn't even get too mad at them when they told another good friend why they suggested I never wear that damn pink lipstick again.
  • Let them have a copy of that one really embarrassing photo from my childhood - not the embarrassing-but-cute-in-retrospect photo, but the photo that one hundred and ten years from now will still be embarrassing.
  • Being able to act like I am a silly, giggly, ten-year old girl again with them one minute, then being as grown as needed the next.
  • I can call them at anytime - the middle of a busy day, in the dead of night - and they are going to answer my call.
  • They might end up cussing me out if my call wasn't urgent, exciting, raunchy or entertaining, and I interrupted something that was, but they won't hate me. Much. It depends.
  • I'm okay with them cussing me out because of those calls. At some point, I'm going to cuss them out for the same reason.
  • They are still going to answer my future calls. I'm still going to answer theirs.
  • We know that not all family is blood-related.
  • Told them about my fantasies, dreams and goals - even the ones I won't tell anyone else. Ever.
  • They've seen me nappy, happy, crappy, cute, bitchy, petty, feral, contemplating naughtiness, regretting wrongs, and being wholly, totally, truthfully, no-holds-barred me.
  • They know me and still love me.
"Friends come in every shape and color and, most importantly, in every kind of crazy." (me)

Peace
--Free

From Pinterest...





This is my kind of friend!

Friendship for real


The Writer's Kitchen

(It's early, I'm unsettled. I have to write something, anything. Good morning, life.)
As a writer, I feel like something of a chef. And I like that idea.
My stories come from recipes of thoughts.
My thoughts come from my past, present and future ingredients of my experiences.
I test them, taste them, add a little seasoning, and taste them again.
I've thrown out entire meals that took months to prepare.
I will not serve up what did not become precisely what I meant it to be.
There are pieces of recipes jotted on the backs of receipts and books, even in eyeliner on the gum wrappers.
Aperitifs to set the mood and stir the appetite. They are either the easiest or most difficult to create.
Perhaps and appetizer to prepare the palate for what's to come.
And then, the main dish. Spicy or smooth; forbidden, maybe even wild and gamey.
Everything else has mattered, but here is where I've put in what had to be ripped out of me.
Then dessert. Like the best cigarette you've ever had after the best release of the most intense passion.
And some digestif. A reward for joining me at my table. Something to let the guest sigh with contentment.
The readers - my guests, they will be back for more. If I have earned it, there will be a clamor for seats at my future tables.
When one story is finished, its stains and scraps still with the reader, I go and prepare to write again.
I will browse the aisles of my memories to search out new seasonings to pair with the staples stashed at the ready: desire, perseverance, suffering and madness.
Writing feeds hungry souls and satisfies the cravings of the mind.
What I do matters.
What I do is real.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Being the Writer I Am


  • Knowing that a great blog post today means a reader might be disappointed tomorrow.
  • Being okay with that because I know they might still come back to see what else I have to say.
  • Writing about a character's problems and hoping that people don't think I'm that character.
  • Sometimes wishing people could know I am some of my characters.
  • Not being able to read anything but what I'm working on because I don't want to mimic another writer's voice.
  • Feeling like no one else understands what I'm going through while working on a story.
  • Realizing that I sort of like that no one else understands what I'm going through while working on a story.
  • Picking up pieces of characters from people I meet and using them in a story.
  • Thinking of all the stories that will die with me if I don't get them written down.
  • Letting that last thought motivate me to write those stories down.
  • Worrying that, since I am so broke, I should be doing something other than writing.
  • Knowing that, no matter what, writing means so much to me that I'd rather die of being broke than I would to die of not writing.
  • Knowing that there are a some people who will understand that.
  • Knowing that not many people will ever understand that.
  • Usually not really giving a damn whether or not people will ever understand that.
  • Wanting to smoke when I am writing, even though I no longer smoke.
  • Falling so in love with my own characters that it's hard to let them be who they need to be.
  • Knowing that, since I never had kids, my stories will be what tells the future I was here, and mattered.
  • Writing about people I want to fall in love with, be friends with, go out for drinks with, and tell my secrets to in the dark.
  • Wishing my mother could be here when I finally have my name printed on a hardback book.
  • Knowing that my mother *is* here, in some way, whenever I am writing all these stories.
  • Getting into such a writing mania that nothing else matters: not typos or grammar or language. 
  • Knowing that there will be time enough for all of that to matter once I've freed the story from my heart.
  • Having known people that become inspiration for my stories.
  • Knowing that I might one day meet someone I thought only existed in my stories.
  • Being able to say "my stories".
  • Having worlds I've created to escape to when the world around me isn't everything I want it to be.
  • Knowing that I might not be accepted and celebrated as writer until I've been dead and gone for hundreds of years.
  • Being mostly okay with that because being known and celebrated doesn't matter as much as the writing does.
  • Not wanting to be like any of my favorite authors, but wanting to be someone they'd want to be.
  • Dreaming dreams that I can put down in words for other people to read about.
  • Knowing that, for all my weaknesses, I have something so good in me that writing is the only way to express it.
  • Sometimes, editing out of my stories things that I think reveal too much of who I am.
  • Putting those things back in the story because I realize it's okay to reveal who I am because it's okay to be who I am.
  • Being so lonely when I am writing that I have to enter the company of my characters.
  • Turning depression, frustration, fear and anxiety to my advantage by writing.
  • Knowing that, because I write, I am part of a group of very special people.
  • Knowing that, just as I have fallen in love with creative people I've only met through their work, someone is going to fall in love with me.
  • Knowing that that's a perfecty good thing.
  • Feeling like I've been unplugged from the Heavens when I come out of the dream state that is writing.
  • Being thankful to God that he gave me this urge to express myself and a way to do it.
  • Knowing that there are people reading all this who understand everything I am saying.
And that's what it means to me to be the #writer I am. That's what it means to be me.

Peace
--Free

Friday, February 21, 2014

Don't Like and Do Love. A List.

The Don't Likes:
  • Automatic doors that hesitate so long that I almost run into them.
  • When I'm too stupid to realize the automatic door is 'slower' than I am.
  • Well-dressed people who ruin the look with a bad attitude. 
  • The mean thoughts I have about those people, like hoping they trip and fall while I'm watching. 
  • Parents who let their bad-assed kids loose on the public, and then act as if you were the one who advised them not to teach the little monsters how to behave.
  • Other shoppers who hog the aisles with their carts, then get pissed if you bump into it while trying to pass.
  • Shoppers who pretend to be deaf and blind when you are trying to pass them in an aisle.
  • Adults who never use the words/phrases "Thank you", "Excuse me", "Please", "Hello', "Sir" and "Ma'am".
  • Children who aren't being taught the above words/phrases.
  • Men who don't hold doors for women. 
  • People who find the above statement sexist or anti-feminist.
  • Drive-through coffee service when I can't just request cream to add for myself.
  • Weak coffee.
  • Coffee so strong that an entire bottle of creamer won't mellow it out.
  • Men who wait for a woman to make the first move.
  • Women who scared men out of making the first move.
  • People who think a man holding a door for a woman is a 'statement' of some kind.
  • Sloppy kisses. Unless it's from a dog.
  • Kissing a dog. Of any kind.
  • Not being able to cancel obligations at the last minute without appearing rude.
  • Cancelling obligations at the last minute.
  • Fake apologies.
  • Making fake apologies.
  • Morning breath so bad that hazard lights ought to start flashing with your first words.
  • Mistaking someone's long, thoughtful stare for flirting.
  • Flirting with someone you only thought was flirting with you.
  • Getting halfway through a manuscript before you decide to change a character's name.
  • Seeing descriptions on social media that could mean anything.
  • Not understanding exactly what it means to be a "brand specialist" or "life optimizer".
  • Having someone who lives in the shadows and stalks your online profile.
  • Wondering if that person is masturbating to your profile pic.
  • Trying to take a cute-but-not-whorish-looking profile pic.
  • Trying to look attractive, serious, intelligent, fun and un-posed in a profile pic.
  • Trying not to capture glass-cleaner streaks or runs when you take that bathroom mirror selfie.
  • Getting stuck in a check-out line behind a person who bought everything that needs a price-check or that they have a coupon for.
  • Not having one of the coupons for the same thing you have in your own basket.
  • Having hair that only behaves the way you want when you aren't going to be seen by one damn person you care about.
  • Not feeling well and not being able to explain why.
  • Drinking coffee on the patio and swallowing something that could have been a lump of powder cream or the baby spider you saw earlier.
  • Not being able to find that baby spider anywhere near where he was before.
  • Not being able to make yourself throw up the coffee.
  • Thinking about that nasty, unidentified lump every time you drink something for the next week.
  • When I visit my toddler nephew and he's so busy playing that he pays me no attention at all.
  • Having nothing to write with or on when you have an idea for a story.
  • Damn near hurting yourself to get to pen and paper and forgetting the idea you had.
  • When the idea you had really sucks snot once you get it written down.
  • Writing what is possibly the most eloquent thing ever to leak from your brain only to read it over and think, "Meh."
  • When you're so broke you can't pay attention.
  • Finding a great sale on a product you've been wanting at the time you're brokest.
  • Being broke. Period.
  • When you've re-arranged all your bills so that you have lights, food and gas, and then reading news about someone who bought diamond-encrusted nail polish.
  • Knowing that, if you could, you might also splurge on diamond-encrusted nail polish.
  • Spending forty bucks on something frivolous to cheer yourself out of the blues, then realizing you forgot a bill that's due.
  • Returning that frivolous thing so you can pay your bill.
  • Realizing that you don't really miss the frivolous thing you returned.
  • Buying a lipstick that looks so good  in the store only to realize, once you get home, that it makes you look a little scary.
  • Doing the same thing with an outfit, only the outfit makes you look scarier. Or desperate, or cheap, or, maybe, just sad.
  • Realizing you can't wear the same cute clothes at fifty-something that you did at twenty-something - or even at forty-something.
  • Realizing that maybe you should never have worn some of the clothes you did.
  • Wishing you had a "significant other" only because you want someone to have sex with, and you're too good for one-night stands.
  • Wanting to have sex and having no one to have it with.
  • Wondering if that last item was grammatically... what?
  • The term "significant other". 
  • Wondering if that term makes you the insignificant one.
  • Kissing with no sex.
The Loves:
  • Kissing with no sex.
  • Having really pleasant conversations with someone you'll probably never ever see again.
  • A whole day to do whatever you want.
  • Knowing what it is I want to do for a whole day.
  • Watching a comedian that makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
  • When I visit family and my toddler nephew runs screaming for the door the minute he hears my voice.
  • That big, nasty chocolate-and-slobber kiss I get on my ear from my nephew.
  • Having a really cute stranger flirt with me, even if I'm never going to see him again and there was no chance that, if I did, anything would come of the flirting.
  • Waking up too fast because I think it's a Monday when, really, it's Sunday and I can go right back to sleep.
  • Making a CD of that one really good song so I can play it on loop and dance like a maniac if I want to.
  • Dancing like a maniac to that one really good song.
  • That first perfect cup of coffee first thing in the morning.
  • Any cup of coffee first thing in the morning.
  • When I wake up with breath so fresh that I wish I had someone to roll over and kiss without throwing their body into shock.
  • That one special guy friend I can talk to about any and every thing.
  • That one special guy friend who makes me feel beautiful and isn't going to ever (say he wants to) sleep with me.
  • Reading a book so good that I adopt the characters as imaginary friends for the rest of my life.
  • Writers who write so well that I swear I can hear them telling the story inside my own head.
  • Falling in love with the characters I write about.
  • Remembering something about a loved one that makes me break into a big smile.
  • Knowing that there is a person out there who is going to meet me and make me fall as in love with them as they will be with me.
  • Hope.
  • Dreams.
  • Goals.
  • Beating the odds.
  • Being here.
  • Being me.
  • Having so many more "Loves" that I will have to continue this at another time.
Peace
--Free

Thursday, February 20, 2014

On Writing and Writer's Block

For the past few weeks, I've been neglecting everything else while I work on my latest story. I love writing - or, at least, I love creating characters and plots. The writing part is pure slavery.

At this very moment, I am having writer's block. Every one who write's fiction knows that writer's block is usually due not to having nothing to say but having too much to say with no clue how to say it all. I think I just proved my point.

So what do I do when I have these moments? Waste time on line, of course.

My relatives just might have it right

Ha. I feel better already.

I also sit on my personal pity pot and think too much about things that have nothing to do with what I'm working on. For instance, has it occurred to the other writers with social media networks how insanely cruel people can be? If you're not spending at least three hours a day interacting online with people, they stop  visiting your blog or throwing any encouraging words your way. I swear, I've heard from just one person this week (out of the 4000 or so contacts I have). Really, people? I am over here trying to create worlds out of mere words. The least you could do is stop in every now and then to say hello...

That frustrates me. So I waste a little more time on line.

Doing what I really do instead of what I want to do.

There are tons of this crap out there.

Another thing I like to do when 'blocked' is take vacations to a fantasy world where this damn book is finished, published and on every best-seller list out there.Which is exactly what's never going to happen if I keep Googling for stuff like this:

Because it matters

~sigh~

If I get too caught up in my feelings of misery, I look for encouragement:
"A professional writer is an amateur who didn't quit." (Richard Bach)
Or for company:
"The music lets me see the story but the story doesn't let me write the words." (Elizabeth J. Kolodziej)
Speak on it, sister!

#truth is a bitch

I smiled when I found this quote:
"Writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all." (Charles Bukowski)
Mission accomplished.

I feel a little better now than I did when I started this post. I'm still 'blocked' but I can get on with the business of breaking through.

Peace
--Free

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Success and Happiness, Morality and Choices

I was just now reading an article about some wealthy folks showing their asses at a private event. When I say "wealthy" I'm talking billionaire-wealthy. Apparently these are folks who have chosen money as their Master.

At first, I was angry, then I realized that my anger won't change the way people choose to live their lives. As a matter of fact, my anger and disappointment means nothing to these people. So I gave up on the wasted emotions and started to wonder about what drives certain people. What drives some people to be selfless and others to be unashamedly greedy? What makes some of us lose little pieces of our humanity?

Think about people who started out with good intentions before they got caught up in pursuing money or fame. I can think of a lot of so-called pastors and Christians who didn't just backslide but bobsledded down into greed. I can look back ten or twelve years to some celebrities who started out in the church and have ended up making themselves into gods. And I'm talking here about people who literally have tried to re-name themselves after God or Jesus. Calling that mess the Illuminati is like portraying the Devil as a little fork-tongued man in red tights. You name something and people forget about everything but the label.

If anyone needs proof that good and evil exist, all they need to do is look at the world around them. I have a belief that we become taken over, in essence, by whatever we exalt higher than all else. Fame or looks or money. As far as money, there's really no stopping anyone from becoming rich other than the limits they set for themselves. I think that, if a person could put everything else in life second to the goal of becoming rich (or beautiful or famous), then they will be rich (or beautiful or famous).

A lot of us are gated in by our personal convictions. Financially, my own life is in shambles right now, but I've had chances to change that fact. There are just a lot of things I refuse to do to have more money or "security". I don't care what your religious beliefs (or non-beliefs) are, most of us have a gatekeeper in our hearts. This sentry is what keeps us from acting on certain impulses and desires. I have a strict 'gatekeeper' while I know people with more lenient ones.

On the other hand, I see people of my class (I really do hate that word) who will do some things for happiness that they wouldn't do for money. For instance, I know women who'd never trick for money, but they will let one man turn them out - all in the name of 'love'.

When I think of the few wealthy folks mentioned in the article I read, I equate them to poorer people I know. These folks I personally know of might not kill you for a dollar but they'd kill you over a pair of shoes, a piece of jewelry, or a lover.

Some people have managed to reach financial security without selling their souls, but there are some people (in my opinion) who will always think that 'more' is never enough. They are like the anorexics who will diet themselves to death.

What drives us - rich and poor - to even consider some desires? Is it some sort of fear? Or is a desperate emptiness we are trying to fill? Soul hunger? Needing to feel- what?

Because I am of Christian beliefs, I think of what Christ said about one not being able to serve two Masters. In some ways, most of us are guilty of at least struggling with trying not to serve another Master. (I struggle with being prideful and holding grudges.) Are we any better than a billionaire who jokes about the poor when we joke among ourselves about someone not as attractive or smart or popular?

Still, I pity rich people just as they might pity me. Maybe they pity me for my faith. I'm sure they believe that I, in some way, deserve my poverty. I pity that they have chosen money over compassion and charity. I pity that everything they have lived for will die with them. They will die beautiful, maybe, and rich, maybe, but they will be a dead empty body just like I will one day be. What's the difference? Well, we will find out.

Peace
--Free

P.S.: Hope this post is fairly coherent. It's been a loooong day for me.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

***REVIEW*** (Part 2) "Never Tear Us Apart"

I saw the last part of the movie last night. Wow. That was a real tear-jerker. I cried so much that I had to put cold compresses on my eyes to get rid of the swelling. To be honest, I've lost so many loved ones in the past 15 months that I think watching any sad movie was going to break me down. This one just kicked me in the guts. I don't want to give away anything to ruin the movie for folks still waiting to watch, so I'm just going to talk in general terms about the movie.

While I still don't think that Luke Arnold looks as much like Hutchence as a lot of people are claiming, I have to admit that he nailed the look during one scene. This is video of the real deal

                       (The part re-enacted comes in at 04:02)



In the movie, that Arnold guy could have been Hutchence's twin when he pulled off the stage look. For a minute, I thought this was a part where the director was using real footage.

Now that I am over my emotions (mostly) about the film, I have some criticism.

First, it was a little bit disturbing how some things presented previously in the INXS book were done so differently in the movie. Here is where you're going to be able to tell that I am a super-fan:

  • The scene where Hutchence was injured by the cab driver. (The book has him drunk and outside while Helena Christensen was still in the club.)
  • Garry Garry Beers infidelity with a back-up singer. (Book: was hazier but the story seemed slightly different.)
  • The drug use. (I'm Team-Tina Hutchence on this one. The book detailed lots of drug use by other band members - not just Michael. I really thought it was tacky that they portrayed him acting way higher at Rockpalast than videos of the actual concert.)
  • The infidelity. (The book included accounts of some of the other guys chasing their share of ass. The movie portrayed them as almost saintly in their marriages. I'm just saying.)
  • Some things were just touched on and then left to fade without explanation: Mrs. Farriss's illness and death. Whatever happened to Mr. Farriss.
  • Not enough attention was given to the other band member's lives and accomplishments. (One of the greatest things about them as a band was that they worked hard to treat each other as equals, even when the world didn't.)
  • I wish they had included more of Hutchence's history with Michele Bennett. (She's obviously a lovely woman. I always hoped that it was her that Michael had ended up living out life with - I mean, since it wasn't going to be me...)
  • There was too much focus on sex. Fans have already heard how "sexual" Hutchence was. I think it would have been nice to show more of his intellectual interests and heart.
There are a couple other things that fans will find depicted in a more "for dramatization purposes" than the way it seemed to have happened in real life.

Now. I am going to have a little bit of a rant about a few things:

First - about the heat Tina Hutchence is taking from Chris Murphy - excuse me, C.M. Murphy. The guy is obviously genius when it comes to promoting artists, but I was put off by reports of how he responded to Ms. Hutchence's criticism of the film. One report talked about how he and the surviving members of the band have Michael's daughter's best interests at heart. They made this movie to show her another side of her father, blah, blah, blah. I'm not sure that Hutchence would be any more pleased than his sister with the way their mother was portrayed in the film. (The comment about Tina being a "side half-sister" was particularly nasty, in my opinion.) No matter what your feelings are within a family, No one outside should dis your mom or sibling. Second of all, Murphy hit low by implying that if Tina cared so much, she would have "been there" for Michael. Wow. Really? Well, the guys in the band were like his brothers and they weren't able to be any more "there" when it counted. Who could be? Michael was troubled, just as lots of people who take their lives are. I thought that was a low blow to loved ones of any suicidal person. If one claims to care so much about Hutchence's daughter, you'd think they'd be more careful in what they say about that child's aunt. (I didn't include links to these articles because I was too lazy, but you can find them easily.)

All in all, I am glad the movie was made. It's nice that the band's hard work is recognized by their country. I do think that it would take a full-length, cinematic-grade film to capture the whole story. I've heard that the movie to see is one being worked up by Richard Lowenstein. That's the one I'll be waiting for.

Peace
--Free