Friday, 29 June 2012
Things That Make Me Go...
Thursday, 28 June 2012
Life In The House Lane
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
All you have to do...
5:40 am Wake up, shower, make a lunch, eat breakfast and get ready for day job.
6:10 am: Leave the house to catch the bus.
6:22 am: Board bus, ride to work
Yeah Baby!!!! That's what I'm talking about! |
7:05 am: Make it to desk, only five minutes late, because everyone and their fr-enemy at work wanted to know where my new desk is and what workflow I'll be doing and how hard is it? (No idea, I'm only in my second day of training. Give a girl a break)
7:12 am: seek out new boss and tell her I know it's only my second day, and I'm still in training, but my son has a dentist appointment and I have to leave early. (She's a dear. She said yes)
7:37 am: wander with the rest of the newbies to the training room and promptly nod off.
8:17 am: clean drool of desk and try to find where in blazes on the system we are working....blah.
10:00 am: Finally break for more coffee. Thank GOD! Quickly dash off a few emails and check edits haven't arrived from publisher. No edits. Breathe deep. Either there's nothing much to do, and they're working on other stuff, or there's so much, it's taking them forever to figure out what the hell my story is about. DON'T PANIC. (wish I had a towel...)
11:32 am: realize it's another hour until lunch break and slip out of training room to find foods before I starve.
12:35: LUNCH at last. gulp down yummy food, think happy thoughts of hubby who made yummy food for me. Text him. Find out he forgot to tell me the appointment time changed, and I have to leave work an hour earlier than planned or talked about with new boss. Think less happy thoughts about forgetful hubby.
12:47 pm: locate new boss, explain problem, and realize as I'm doing so that an 'hour earlier than planned' is...NOW. (I like my new boss. She was very nice about the whole thing)
1:23 pm: catch buss towards home to pick up boy for dentist, frantically text hubby to bring laptop and sunglasses, and to find out where I'm supposed to meet them.
1:29 pm: realize I was suppose to meet them at the library stop. Two stops ago. Get off buss and walk in sweltering heat and sun with no sunglasses for four blocks, get to library, find they haven't even left the house yet.
1:43 pm: Meet family, exchange lunch bag and sweat for laptop, son, but no sunglasses. They have mysteriously disappeared.
2:02 pm: Board bus only to discover boy forgot his bus pass: scrounge for change. Forget to get him a transfer.
2:20 pm: beg next bus driver to have mercy and grant amnesty for forgotten transfer ticket. She relents. Nice bus driver.
3:00 pm: arrive at dentist, break out laptop, and work while waiting for appointment. All goes well. No cavities, too soon to talk about braces. The bank account is relatively safe for another year.
4:00 pm: arrive downtown, decide to stop for beer and coffee.
4:25 pm: realize we've missed last close bus by five minutes, and now have to walk three blocks to get home.
4:47 pm: text hubby to send reinforcements to carry groceries, and inform him we are starving.
5:01 pm: arrive home to find hubby lying down in cool bedroom waiting for us. No dinner. No cold beer. Think unhappy thoughts about rested hubby as I make my own dinner.
6:06 pm: warn hubby he'd best leave the house for a little while. No, REALLY. Go. take the laptop to the garage, just don't be in my line of sight right this minute.
6:07 pm: decide to watch Bunheads with the girl and eat chips and drink beer.
8:09 pm: make my way to computer to re-write all the words written at the dentist that got lost. Find hubby has taken my computer mouse.
8:11 pm: retrieve Mouse. 'nuff said.
11:52 pm: sigh a breath of relief. 1487 words written, better than the first time, and I. Am. Done.
11:54 pm: realize I can't go to bed yet. Still have to write a blog post. Fuck.
12:17: finish blog post.
12:30 crawl into bed, realize it's too late to do anything but sleep.
Tomorrow? Once more, from the top.
(Someone told me today to "[write a blog post] about women who work at a dream (say, writing) when they have other responsibilities (say, family and an Evil Day Job) and do it with grace and humor. Cause, you know, that would be something you'd know about ;-) ")
If I do anything with either grace, or humour, it's because of friends like this, who make comments like that, even when I know they know I lose my cool, just like everybody else, and yet, they still see the good and chose to remind me I'm not a complete nut case. (or, they join me in the nuttiness, which also works) Love you to pieces, Amy.
So. what's everyone else up to tomorrow? Oh. Wait. Later today. Right.
Monday, 25 June 2012
Movie Review: Secretary
Director:
Steven ShainbergSo, first of all, when I watched this movie, I didn't realize it is ten years old. Not that it changes a whole lot, other than making the whole "We don't use computers here." a teeny, tiny bit less ridiculous. That makes Mr. Gray's character more eccentric and less full on crazy, I suppose. I doubt you could even run a paralegal office without a computer these days.
So anyway, the fact she has to type everything up on a typewriter is kind of essential to the plot, so I had to just suspend my disbelief on that and move on.
Maggie Gyllenhaal's character, Lee: Well, she played her well, but it took me a long time to warm up to her. She was a very washed-out, bland, weak woman, which was totally the point of her, and I can appreciate that Gyllenhaal played that aspect of her very well. I felt she stayed that way a little too long, though. When she finally stepped up, though, I was pleased to see she didn't for a moment hide what she wanted or hesitate to accept it. I liked that a lot. She grew from a frightened woman, full of fear and shame, into a strong submissive not even a bit uncertain about what she wanted or needed in her lover.
Mr. Gray was a dick. I wanted to slap him. Sure, okay, he was conflicted and uncertain and he had a hard time accepting that he wasn't actually a perverted predator, but it took him so bloody long and Lee had to go through so much torture at his hands (or, more to the point, torture from him keeping his hands to himself) that I just got mad at him and was actually pleased when she made up her mind to find someone else. That shouldn't happen in a romance story, no matter how kinky it gets. I shouldn't want the heroine to find someone other than the hero to be with. At the point I found myself hoping that Lee really did move on and find herself a man worthy of her surrender, I realized the story had become about her and her growth, and not about the romantic relationship. So I wanted her to find a man worthy of her who could keep her safe and happy.
She didn't.
She fought for the man she loved and eventually convinced him that she wanted what he had to offer and that she not only accepted him and loved him, but needed him to be what he was. So yes, she manned up and convince him. But he didn't deserve her. At least I wasn't convinced he did, and that's bad in a romance story and worse in a Dom/sub romance.
If you can't convince me the Dom deserves every once of that sub's surrender, I you're not doing it right. In the end, Mr Gray left me cold, and that was sad.
A few of the scenes I really loved?
The scene in the park when Lee is walking home form work for the first time, after Mr' Gray has told her she won't cut herself any more and she can walk home on her own. She talks about how she can't remember ever walking home alone, and how she doesn't feel alone because it feels like he is holding her as she goes. It might seem like a simple thing to agree to do what he told her to do, but for Lee, it was a very big deal to let him dictate those terms. That one scene showed the essence of the relationship, and I just wish he had lived up to her faith in him. He almost didn't, step up, and that would have been a tragedy.
Bathroom Etiquette
Wednesday, 20 June 2012
Motherf@#!&ing Stress
Tuesday, 19 June 2012
Arsenic, a tale of witchcraft and humor
Today, Terri Talley Venters brings a humorous short story. This was supposed to go up yesterday, but time ran away from me. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Arsenic
by
Terri Talley Venters
Penelope stood in the attic of her ancestral home. She loved the hexagon-shaped stained glass window which dominated the top floor. She stood at the antique wooden podium and looked down at a group of tourists gawking at her home. She wondered if they knew how close they were to getting cursed today.
Penelope opened her spell book with the utmost respect, just as her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother had done before her. Penelope put the finishing touches on her love potion and raised her arms above her head. She recited the words from her spell book, enjoying the ritual of her craft. It surprised her to run out of the potion so quickly. She kicked herself for not brewing the love potion in bulk sooner than today. But with Valentine's Day coming up, the orders poured in. With word of mouth increasing her sales dramatically, she barely scrounged enough ingredients together to make her final batch.
She heard a knock at her door. Are you kidding me? She closed her spell book and covered it with the black, embroidered silk cloth. She descended two flights of stairs, growing impatient with each subsequent knock her visitor delivered. If he only knew who lived here.
Penelope checked her appearance in the foyer mirror, her long black hair hung straight against her tall slender frame. Her creamy white complexion made her mismatched eyes stand out. Although most believed her one blue eye and one green eye made her a freak, Penelope knew it a sign she inherited the strongest powers of Witchcraft. Her family prayed to birth girls carrying the blue eye/green eye trait.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. Are you Penelope Manchester?" the man asked, tipping his hat like a Southern Gentleman.
"Yes, I am," she said, admiring his good manners. Maybe he knew, after all?
"My name is James Toliver, identification 1975690. I'm an agent with the Internal Revenue Service," he said.
"You're with the IRS?" Penelope asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Our office made several attempts to contact you. I've telephoned and sent letters, but I haven't received a response. I'm glad to see you are alive and well, ma'am. But I hope to schedule a time to meet with you to discuss various tax matters," he said.
"Sure, now is as good of a time as any. Please, won't you come in?" Penelope said, only because he acted so nice to her.
"Thank you, ma'am. You have a lovely home," James said, entering the enormous mansion and marveling at its exorbitant furnishings and decor.
"Thank you. Would you like a cup of tea?" Penelope asked.
"I'd love some, if it's no trouble, of course," he said.
"Excuse me while I put the kettle on," Penelope said, disappearing into the kitchen. She returned to the living room where the agent waited. "How did you find out about me?"
"When I audited a friend of yours, he tried to deduct your spell casting services from his income. He showed me a receipt for $5,000. Did Kyle Smith pay you to curse someone? He said it was a necessary expense for his business," the agent said.
"Oh, yes, I remember Kyle. Did he tell you if it worked?" Penelope asked.
"I didn't ask. That's not my job. I have a copy of your tax returns for the last several years, and I'd like to ask you a few questions," the agent said, his tone turned harsher.
"My CPA, Terri, prepares my taxes. All of my income derives from my great-great-grandmother's Dynasty trust," Penelope said.
"Yes, I can see, your taxable income exceeds over five-million dollars each year. But I'm afraid you're not reporting all of your income," James said.
"I don't understand, I pay over a million dollars in taxes every year. How much more do you want?" Penelope asked. She hated to pay the government so much money, especially after the way the authorities treated her ancestors.
"Do you earn money from your potions and spell casting services?" James asked.
"I suppose, but it's nothing compared to the income I receive from my trust fund," Penelope said.
"I'm afraid you must pay taxes on your income derived from all sources. However, your accountant can deduct your costs related to your, uh, business," James said.
"I have to pay taxes on the money I make from Witchcraft?" Penelope asked, trying to control her anger.
"I'm afraid so," James said. He turned his head towards the kitchen as the tea kettle whistled.
"Excuse me while I see to your tea," Penelope said.
She hurried to the kitchen and removed the boiling water from the stove. She poured the steaming water in the tea pot, feeling furious at the nerve of this man. Taxing my Witchcraft income? Seriously?
Penelope took the back stairs straight to the attic, carrying her teapot with her. She retrieved her dark magic spell book from the bookshelf and blew off the dust. Her family only practiced good magic, but they made exceptions for demons and bad people. This man fell under the latter.
She found a potion she never used before and lacked confidence in its success. She scrounged the required ingredients together and placed them in the steaming pot of tea. Penelope lit a candle and raised her arms above her head as she read the words to cast the spell.
As she closed the pages of her ancestral spell book, she added a sprinkle of arsenic to the Tax Man's tea, just to be sure.
~ ~ ~
Blurb:
Lilly Allen has brains, beauty, and a trust fund. She's living in New York City and her career as a reporter is taking off. She's hoping the love of her life, Grier, will propose soon. She has it all, or so she thinks.
Grier Garrison, Create Life executive, is running the company while his father, Dr. Michael Garrison, is in the ICU awaiting a heart transplant. Grier knows the truth about Create Life and its shady side business. He fears Lilly and her twin brother, Luke, are in danger.
While working on two unrelated stories, stolen newborns and cloning, Lilly discovers a shocking connection. Horrific things are happening, but who is behind it all?
Bio:
Terri received her Bachelor's degree in Accounting and Master's degree in Taxation from the University of Florida. She is a licensed CPA and a Second Degree Black Belt in Taekwondo. She lives in St. Augustine, Florida, with her husband, Garrison, and their two sons.
Carbon Copy is the first thrilling novel in the Elements of Mystery Series. The title of each novel will contain an element from the Periodic Table of Elements. Terri recently finished writing Tin Roof, the sequel to Carbon Copy, coming soon fromWild Child Publishing. And Terri's romantic/suspense novel, Body of Gold, is coming soon from Freya's Bower. For more about Terri's upcoming releases, please visit her website http://www.elementsofmystery.com/
On the first of each month, Terri also posts free short stories on her blog. Follow her at http://www.territalleyventers.blogspot.com/ as she weaves her way through the Periodic Table of Elements.
Friday, 15 June 2012
The queen who wished for non-creeping panties--a silly story
Once upon a time, there lived a queen in a far away, or not so far away, land who was happy with her life. She had a loving family, a roof over her head (although she did wish for a maid, a personal chef, and a masseuse), loving cats (or as loving as cats can be), and food on the table. Only one thing truly marred her happiness: she yearned for her younger days when panties stayed put, were cheaper, and lasted longer than it took her to wash her hands. Alas, her current panties crept up her buttocks and into her crack multiple times a day. This, of course, happened at the the most inopportune times (eg. in a crowded aisle of a grocery store, walking down a busy street, while in line at the DMV, etc.) How could she pick them out in such places? She could not without looking gauche. And this really burned her buns (although not literally.)
So, she turned first to one of her subjects her male cat Ebony and said, “Ebony, I command you to go out into the world and find me panties that do not creep.”
Ebony looked up at her from his all important task of cleaning himself and blinked his big golden eyes as if to say, “Who do you think you are to command me, wench?”
The queen knew when he was in one of those moods, there was no talking to him. So, she tried her sweet female kitty Patches and said, “Patches, I command you to go out into the world and find me panties that do not creep.”
Patches purred at the sound of her name, but did not move. Matter of fact, she yawned and closed her eyes, settling into one of her many naps.
The queen sighed in frustration. What good was being queen of her little spot of land if she could not get her subjects to obey her? Asking her daughter would not work. Her daughter was too young and still enjoyed the benefits of panties that did not creep because whoever made princess underwear knew what they were doing. Their panties stayed where they were supposed to. Asking the king to find panties that did not creep would result in him buying butt floss. She did not want butt floss. She wanted panties that did not creep. Now, technically, butt floss did not creep because it was already where she didn’t want it to be! (g)
So, out into the world, the queen went. Everywhere she looked, she found creeping panties. They crawled across butts, sidewalks, buildings, and up stairs. They flew through the sky. They floated on the water. It was a nightmare of creeping panties. Finally, she walked into a store and found some panties that claimed to stay put and never creep for the duration of the panties' lifetime.
“Hallelujah!” the queen sang and proceeded to buy 20 pairs in her size.
Hurrying home, she rushed to wash and dry them. As she waited, she threw her old, creeping panties into the trash. And the new panties did not creep, but they cut into her legs until she thought they would fall off. Yet now she no longer had her old panties she had to wear the new ones. Sighing in defeat, she bowed to the inevitable and wore the uncomfortable, stay put panties.
A few months passed, and contrary to the claim, the panties began to creep. The queen did not know whether to weep for joy or weep in frustration. Her legs were much happier, but her butt was not.
With resignation, she realized this was one of the many conundrums of the Universe, one that might never be solved… at least not in the current try-to-convert-all-women-to-wear-butt-floss-by-wearing-them-down-with-creeping-panties climate.
Being the contrary person that she was, the queen refused. Some day, she would find truly comfortable panties that did not creep. Until that time, she’d wear what she had.
And thus ends our story... for now, anyway. (g)
Wednesday, 13 June 2012
Childhood Road Trips
The other evening, Charlie, Lily and I ate out at Fat Burger. While not the most nutritious dinner, we do this only every so often. Well, Lily spied another little girl about the same age with her father. You know how kids are at this age. There is a friend around every corner. It's wonderful and makes me kind of jealous, but it's great fun to watch. Anyway, as we left, Lily said, "Mommy, did you know her name?" I shook my head. "Her name was Catalina."
I've never met anyone named Catalina, but it evoked memories of my father and the many car trips we went on. When I was a young whippersnapper, we didn't have DVD players, iPods, iPads, smart phones, laptops, or anything else electronic that could entertain us. We had to use the old standbys: songs, games, and books. (Or sleep. If it was really long and we'd grown tired of everything else, we slept. :) )
But I digress. LOL
The girl's name reminded me of this song my father taught us called "Catalina Madelina Rubensteina Walnedina Hogan Bogan Logan was her name." Yes, that was the title, or at least that's what we thought it was. And it was a great silly song to pass the time. These are the lyrics I remember:
Chorus (sung between every verse):
Catalina Madelina Rubensteina Walnedina Hogan Bogan Logan was her name.
Verse:
1. She had twenty hairs on the top of her head. Ten were alive and ten were dead.
2. She had two eyes on the front of her head. One was purple; the other was red.
3. She had two ears like the sails on a boat. The only problem was she couldn't float.
4. She had two feet like a bathroom mat. Nobody knows how they got like that.
5. She had two hips like battleships. One stayed home while the other took trips.
6. Well, one day a truck hit Madeline. That was the end of Cataline.
Catalina Madelina Rubensteina Walnedina Hogan Bogan Logan was her name. (Whoever sang this last chorus the fasted won. :) )
You can see how this silliness would appeal to kids. We sang it until our parents wanted to duct tape our mouths shut. So, I had to look it up and see where it originated. No one seems to know, but there appear to be thousands of versions of this particular song. I don't know if my dad got it from his childhood or the Navy. Regardless, here's a link to other verses. Some are quite hilarious.
Dad also taught us some other, less kid-friendly songs he learned in the Navy. I think they were watered down a bit, though. And there was one he only taught us the first line. (sigh) That one we really wanted to know the rest of. Here's the line. If you know it, please add more:
She's a big fat turd twice the size of me. Pimples on her butt like the apples on a tree.
I told you. Not appropriate at all for kids, but, hey, this was the 70s. We had more fun back then. :)
Dad also taught us a Navy drinking song, although it might have been from his college days, called "Leland Stanford Junior Farm." It went like this:
Oh, it's beer, beer, beer that makes you want to cheer
on the farm
on the farm.
Oh, it's beer, beer, beer that makes you want to cheer
on the Leland Stanford Junior Farm.
Chorus (again sung between each verse):
My eyes are dim
I cannot see
For I have, hey, ho, not brought my specs with me.
Verse:
1. Oh, it's whiskey, whiskey, whiskey that makes me feel so frisky
on the farm
on the farm.
Oh, it's whiskey, whiskey, whiskey that makes me feel so frisky
on the Leland Stanford Junior Farm.
3. Oh, it's gin, gin, gin that makes me wanna sin
on the farm
on the farm.
Oh, it's gin, gin, gin that makes me wanna sin
on the Leland Stanford Junior Farm.
We made up a few of our own. :) Although the vodka one might be from him. :)
4. Oh, it's vodka, vodka, vodka, that makes me feel so hodka
on the farm
on the farm.
Oh, it's vodka, vodka, vodka, that makes me feel so hodka
on the Leland Stanford Junior Farm.
And it wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention this one:
5. Oh, it's tea, tea, tea that makes me wanna pee
on the farm
on the farm.
Oh, it's vodka, vodka, vodka, that makes me feel so hodka
on the Leland Stanford Junior Farm.
There were numerous songs, but perhaps they should be different posts as this one is growing by the second. LOL
Ah, well, good memories. :) Fun memories. I miss Dad, but, boy, did he see that we had great road trip memories. :)
Monday, 11 June 2012
Getting Dressed in the Morning
Thursday, 7 June 2012
I Tell Myself to Shut Up
Often I wonder what people would do if there was a magnetic pulse (or worse), rendering everything useless or inaccessible from cars to refrigerators to cells, computers, and even medical records. There’s so much hype about December 21st and there are shows on television such as Doomsday Preppers that I have to wonder what people will do when there are no nail salons, no bars for that after-work drink, and no way to shop at Macy’s let alone finding anything that hasn’t been ransacked or rotting in a grocery store. City folk would be hit the hardest because they’re used to having everything at their fingertips or just a couple blocks over.
Over time I’ve learned natural remedies such as using the jewelweed plant to cure the sting of nettles and that both usually grow near one another. Flaxseed oil can cure mild to moderate hemorrhoids and give blessed relief to bad ones (hmm, wonder how many readers wrote that one down, LMAO!). Poke greens can be eaten when they’re very young and no more than