Myspace…The Great Confessor

Why do people think that posting everything about their lives on Myspace is a good idea? Who actually thinks, “Hmmm, my wife is going to leave me and I told her I would kill myself if she did, what can I do? Oh, I know. I’ll post a blog about how horrible our life is on Myspace and get pity from all of my friends and family!” WTF?!?

No, this wasn’t me, or my husband or anyone in my family (THANK GOD!), but it is a very dear friend of mine.

I went to Critique Group last night… had a fairly good time (even though I didn’t get a darn thing written this week… okay, I did, but I started all over AGAIN), come home, and hubby looks like…well, almost guilty. I figured he’d been out Christmas shopping and found something he couldn’t live without and bought it. Wondering what the damage to the bank account was, I innocently ask, “What’s up? You look like you need to tell me something.”

Sometimes you have to approach men like scared children. I smiled my still only half a smile, and patted his arm reassuringly. He told me he’d been messing with his Myspace page and saw that a friend of ours had changed his status and sounded really depressed. So, he went to said friends page and saw that there was a new blog posted and the title sounded depressing. And, since Myspace is the universal ‘let’s snoop into people’s lives’ place, he read the blog. It worried him a lot. So, he told me to go and read the blog and then call my friend – the blogger’s wife.

I took my big bowl of ice cream with me, knowing I was going to need it (not being much of a drinker), and sat down at the computer. I loaded the offending page and began to read, and read, and read. I was shocked at what had been left there for all the world to see. The things he just so casually mentioned that NO ONE else has the right to know, that NO ONE needs to ever see.

I was furious.

Then, the reply to the post. It had been left by my friend’s sister. It was all I could do not to pick up the phone, call her and tell her that she was my hero. She blasted him, in a nice way, but still really put him in his place. I was in tears by the time I finished reading it. Her response made me wish I had a sister, but I know my brothers would be just as ‘to the point.’

So, I did what any self respecting friend would do. I put on my heavy coat (it was freaking cold outside last night), grabbed my cell phone and my cigarettes (yes, I know they are bad for me, but so is stress and chocolate), and called the brat that hadn’t called me to let me know what was going on.

She answered in tears because she knew it was me and instantly all the anger was gone. I understood why she hadn’t let me help, it is hard to admit defeat, I know that. So, while she sat in her car in the Wal Mart parking lot and chain smoked, and I sat on my broke ass chair on the front porch and smoked with her, we talked for almost two hours. We laughed, we cried and we made a lunch date.

I haven’t been to the town she lives in, in years. To be totally honest, I don’t know if I even remember how to get there from where I live, but I have access to a GPS and I know how to use it dang it. So, Saturday morning, I’m going to drive an hour to a town that holds a LOT of bad memories for me, hold my precious friends hand, buy her lunch, hell I may take her to get a pedicure, too. Sometimes, you just need a girly day with a friend. I’m not worried about her, though. She is an amazingly strong woman who has two beautiful sons. I miss her joy though. When we were growing up together, she was such a happy person. Always had a smile on her face. I haven’t seen her smile in a very long time, that bothers me.

So, I will make the trip, buy the lunch, spring for the pedicure (or whatever we decide to do), and try to make her smile, at least for a little while. Because as stressful as my life is sometimes, I want to bring joy and happiness to people. That’s what makes me happy. And as bad as I feel about things and how life poop’s on me, I know I am incredibly lucky. I have a home, a car, a job, a little money in the bank, a family that loves me whether I write porn or not, and the biggest blessing of all is my awesome husband, who understands why I have to make the trip this weekend alone. And even though he will worry about me, he knows that she needs me and I need to help her.

How amazing is he? I don’t know if I’ve ever known the kind of love he gives me each second of every minute of every single day. He is my rock, my heart and everything I could ask for.

Okay, sorry, I got a little sappy there, but seeing what is happening with my friend makes me all that more grateful for what I have.

P.S. – I was feeling all lovey dovey just now and about to tell my husband what an amazing man he is… Then he sent me a link to a “Deluxe Star Wars Jedi Robe”. Now, I’m suddenly thinking about the fact that sometimes you have to think of husbands as naughty children. I love that man, I love that man!

Two Line Tuesday

I almost forgot again!

Anyways, last two I read were from Katie MacAlister’s Zen and the Art of Vampires and is actually the first two lines of the book:

“Experience the romance of Iceland under the starry summer night sky with a descendant of the Vikings of yore; that’s what the brochure said.”
Eyes a startling shade of unadulterated grey considered me seriously.

I love Katie Mac. If you like quirky funny women with weird ass lives… she’s your girl.

Okay. My last two:

“Get your ass up off that couch, change clothes and let’s go.”
Cheyenne Hamilton glared up at her two best friends. “I said I don’t want to go out tonight. Project Runway’s on.”
Oddly enough, those are the new first lines of mine.

My face is getting better, I can ALMOST smile again, and most people can even understand what I am saying. It hurts though. My cheek feels like I went a few rounds with Gina Carano, but hopefully that will go away soon.

And if you follow Redneck Mommy’s blog… Woo Hoo!!

I'm Twisted

Am I sick and demented? I know Karin calls me a morbid perv, but I think I may be demented too.

I am so excited because this weekend... I'm cleaning house. I have a whole weekend where I don't have to go anywhere or do anything and I am going to clean my dirty house.

Lovingly sweep and mop all the floors, scrub the tile, vacuum, do laundry, re-arrange the furniture (probably move the Christmas tree).
And hopefully wash both of the dogs... and I will think about the cat, but I'm not brave enough to EVER wash that monster again. I take him to the groomers and they call me and tell me to come and get him every time. He He.

I think in one of his past lives he had an unfortunate run in with a blow dryer because they have to put him in a cage dryer and he hisses and howls and screams until they finally give up.

He's so funny. He will come and sit on the side of the tub while I shower, stick his head in and look at me like, "Um, hey, mom... did you realize there is like water falling ALL over you?" Then he gets this disgusted look and moves to the sink so I don't accidentally on purpose splash him. But as soon as I pull out the trusty old hair dryer he's gone. Like I can't find him again until it is safely back in the closet.

My black lab, he just wants to get in the shower with me. He's a water dog. A big dumb water dog. And with the whole double coat thing, I can't really blow dry him (plus, have you ever tried to blow dry a 100 pound dog? I mean, seriously!). He'd probably sit there and let me do it, but I don't have four hours to try.

Then there is the baby. Bear is our 5 month old Shih Tzu. He is a mess. I don't have the slightest idea what I was thinking when I decided I wanted a long haired little lap dog. I have to brush his fluffy butt all the time. He needs bathed twice a day, I swear, not happening. And he is a litter box muncher. I can't keep him out of it.
If I move the litter box, the cat can't find it... he's getting up there in years, it is sad. We've yelled, we've put things in the way, we've tried everything. He loves him some cat poop. Just ewww.

Wow, that was a long ramble on the pets. But now back to the original thought I was having (some days it is incredibly hard to keep up). I get to clean house and that is making me VERY happy. Our extended house guest is moving the last of his stuff out this weekend, so I can clean out our guest bedroom and hopefully we can take some of the Christmas decoration boxes back to storage and I can get the office back in shape.
See, this just makes my day. I am sick.

Oh! Oh! Maybe I can even get the dishes done!

I've got the Blues

I don’t know if it is the medicine I’m on, all the stress I’m under, or just my own horrible self esteem, but the last few days have been terrible.

I never really realized how much I did smile before I lost it. It actually makes my heart hurt that I can’t smile at my best friend when she is trying to cheer me up, or my amazing husband who tells me I’m beautiful even though right now I feel like a monster.

People have been making fun. That is hard for me. I try to ignore it and laugh along, but it is so hard. People I care about and/or respect telling me I need a Phantom of the Opera mask makes me want to go home, crawl in bed and never come out. I know in my head that I need to be stronger than that, but I can’t get the rest of me to agree.

I was kind of excited because I lost 12 pounds the first weekend. Couldn’t keep food in my mouth, so there wasn’t much eating happening. The doctor put me on high dose steroids, so I have gained it all back and then some. That helps me in no way at all.

I got my new car finally. That should have relieved some of the stress. Should have. It is newer, WAY less miles and the payments are about $50 less a month. So, why don’t I feel better? I love it, but it isn’t my Charger. It doesn’t growl when I start it, it doesn’t have custom rims, blacked out windows or ride like a sports car. Oh, well. Instead of the pimp wagon, I now have a tank. Hubby swears when the next 13 year old runs a stop light that I will win, not the Ford Explorer they are driving.

Don’t get me wrong. I got a Dodge Nitro and it is way cool. It has everything I could ask for and then some.

Last night was probably the worst. I’d had a long day, not a particularly bad one, except that I was feeling really bad about everything. Then I went to critique. Not a great idea when you are that depressed. Everything any of them said felt like a personal attack, even though I knew it wasn’t. I got home, Karin left, and my poor hubby got to hear me vent, after I told him I was “fine” about 5,000 times.

He finally grabbed me up in a big hug, gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead and made me look at him. Really look at him. Not duck my head to keep him from seeing me, not look away so that side of me is hidden. No, he made me face him and look him in the eyes. He told me I wasn’t fine, and he knew it. He told me that even if the paralysis never goes away he will love me. And he told me that no matter what I look like, no matter what I weigh, he still thinks I am beautiful inside and out.

This is the man that knows my heart. He knows how to fix what’s wrong with me with almost no words. I’m scared to death to see Karin’s baby. What if my “smile” scares him? Hubby said the baby will smile and laugh and let me hold him any way. Because that’s how babies are. They don’t care how you look. They love you no matter.

Then, he kissed me on my horribly useless mouth, held me close and whispered those little nonsense words into my hair and just let me cry. He just let me cry. No one in my life has ever just let me cry. For as long as I can remember I have had to be the strong one. Hold it together while everything and everyone else falls apart.

He let me fall apart. I thank God that he let me, even though I was horribly embarrassed afterwards. When my doubts are at their worst and I don’t know why he is with me, he just holds me and calms me down. He loves me and that is the biggest miracle I could ever be witness to.

Critique Group

My critique group meets tonight. I’m a little worried about it though. Karin has found this amazing group to work with, but I was uncomfortable with them (okay, not exactly them, but the children that were there.) They seem to be helping her out so much though, and my group is sketchy at best.

Karin decided to go with me two weeks ago (one week after I had totaled my new car). I hadn’t gone the week before because I was a little busy heeling up, but when we got to the meeting place, the doors were locked and the lights were off. I called the “leader” of our little group and she told me that they thought I had quit since I wasn’t there the week before. I explained to her what happened and she told me I could come back again tonight.

Now, to me, I was hoping for something more along the lines of, “We’re glad you didn’t quit! You have some good insight and we want you to participate.” But no, I was given permission to attend again… if I brought Karin… hmmm. What does that say about my writing? Doesn’t make me feel worth a damn.

Oh, well, I’m off to internet land to search for any contests going on right now. Oh, and I guess I should get back to work.

Two Line Tuesday sort of...

Two line Tuesday

It has been a rough month and I haven’t read a lot, or written much for that matter, but I did make it through the book Marley and Me last night. I’m not a big fan of animal books/movies, because they ALWAYS make me cry and this one was no different.

If you haven’t read the book, I’d suggest it, especially if you are a lover of big goofy dogs. I grew up with big dogs - collies, labs, retrievers – and now my husband and I have one of our own. P.T. is our 100 pound black lab mix. He is a holy terror, shoe eating, trash sniffing, jumping, slobbering mess, but with him around I never have to worry about being in the house alone, because he is MY dog. I know it, he knows it, and anyone who comes around knows it.

So, the last two lines I read are actually from the author’s note at the end of John Grogan’s book Marley and Me:

Dogs are great. Bad dogs, if we can really call them that, are perhaps the greatest of them all.

This book touched my heart and made me cry and hug my big goofy mutt. When the day comes that I lose him, I just don’t know what I will do.

On to the last two lines I wrote…

“I woke up when you were standing over me in the bedroom.” Nathan’s brow went up in a question. “Did you see all you wanted?”
A blush so hot it made her dizzy flooded her face. “I thought you were sleeping!”
“And that makes it okay?” She could tell he was fighting it, but the beginning of a smile curved his mouth.
“Well…yeah!”
It’s a little more than two lines, but I like it.

Personal update:
My face is still screwed up, the right half won’t move, I still feel like a monster, but I think the sinus infection is starting to clear up. I have my last Citizen Police Academy meeting tonight. We are going out for dinner for graduation. I’m a little sad about that. Sure, it was dangerous for everyone in my family for me to go, but it was a lot of fun and I learned some amazing things.
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

Can I have a new November...Please

November has come to a close finally and I couldn't be happier about that. Besides the wreck and dealing with all the stress related to that, let's heap on a helping of joyous holiday love.

My brother-in-law and his wife broke my mother-in-law's heart and went to a friend of theirs for Thanksgiving because driving two hours was too much. Drama Drama Drama.

Then Friday dawned. My 100 pound black lab decided 6:30 in the morning is a wonderful time to go outside. He evidently had to pee right then. I took him outside and noticed my face felt tingly. I chalked it up to still being mostly asleep. Figuring I would go ahead and just start my day I jumped in the shower and got about a half gallon of shampoo in my right eye. I get out of the shower and am brushing my teeth when I realize I can't keep water in my mouth to rinse out the toothpaste. The entire right side of my face is drooping and I can't move it. So, I did what any self respecting Emergency Medical Technician would do... I cried. I prayed, I begged. Nothing worked. It had been two weeks since the wreck and I knew I could have had a clot break lose and there was a possiblity that I was having a stroke. Scary thought at 30, isn't it?

I had to go and wake up my poor hubby. I had to make him understand that he had to be strong and keep it together because I damn sure couldn't. We made it to the emergency room in record time, and I was seen in under an hour (that never happens!).

It wasn't a stroke. It is Bell's Palsy. Bell's palsy is a facial paralysis caused by an irritation of cranial nerve VII (seven) with no apparent cause. This excludes facial paralysis associated with known causes such as infection or stroke. Cranial nerve VII controls most facial muscles, including those needed to smile, blink, and wrinkle the forehead. The nerve also controls the function of certain salivary glands and the lacrimal (tear) glands as well as the tiny muscles inside the ear that dampen loud noises.

Doesn't that sound fun? Now, I'm a girl, and I have little or no self confidence as it is. I feel like a monster. I can't smile, can't blink, can't talk, can't eat. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

Moment of Silence Please

My gorgeous beautiful Charger is no more. I had my dream car for two weeks and two days. I think we should declare a day of mourning for my loss.

I was headed to my class at the police station last night, when a 13 year old girl blasted through her red light. She is fine.



It was my first trip in an ambulance as a patient, seriously different from being the EMT on the run. I spent six hours in the emergency room. Missed my freaking class… it was simulation night too, damn it.

I made the morning news paper, and scared my family to death.

Let me tell you people, seat belt bruises hurt like the devil, but it did what it was supposed to and kept me in the car and off the pavement.

I don’t know what is going to happen with insurance, I haven’t even made a payment on the car yet. 22 inch custom rims, super dark tint… we called it the pimp wagon.

So, please, in honor of the beloved Pimp Wagon, let’s all have a moment of silence.

Orange Juice and Cough Syrup

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Its Been Three Weeks

Three whole weeks since I blogged. Sorry. It's been a tough few weeks too.

I went to read for a new critique group on Monday the 6th. Great people, all of them. Karin keeps me motivated and Travis keeps reminding me that yes, it's hard, but worth it. So, anyway, to be polite I left my cell phone in Karin's car so that I didn't get a phone call and interrupt the group. My hubby knew I was with Karin, but since I didn't know where we were going, I didn't tell him.

About 8:30 the group broke up and Karin and I headed out. I pulled my handy-dandy cell phone out of my purse and saw that I had 29 missed calls. Surely, something had to be wrong with my phone. Maybe it was registering all the missed calls I'd had for, oh, the last year. The evil thing rang almost immediately. Karin and I were laughing and joking when I answered. It was my mother. Screaming at me.

She was in South Carolina, taking care of my grandfather who was very ill. My dad had been in a serious accident on his way home from work (at around 6:30). The 29 missed calls were from all of our family and friends who couldn't find me to rush to the hospital to take care of my dad. My mom was in another state, both of my brothers were hours away. Thank God, one of my parents' friends went to my house, got my hubby and took him to the hospital to stay with dad.

Needless to say, even though I am a trained Emergency Medical Technician, I FREAKED OUT. This is my dad we're talking about people! So, rushed to the Emergency Room, took care of my dad - waking him every hour, keeping up with his pain pills, etc., until mom could fly back in from South Carolina. That was last Monday.


On Wednesday, I found out that my brother-in-law and his wife are pregnant. Now, for a rational adult that would be wonderful news. For me, not so much. If you know me, you know I can't procreate. Hubby and I are looking into the foster/adopt program, but it all takes time. Lots of really crappy emotions are involved in all that, and I get really down when I think about it. So, not a good day there, either. (Why is everyone pregnant right now, by the way? I swear it must be in the water.)

Then, Fateful Friday. It had been a really long week with little or no sleep on most nights. My mom called and noon. My grandfather had passed away. Now, I'd held it together the whole week. Didn't cry, didn't blow up at anyone. If I was pissed or scared or depressed, I just bluffed my way through it. She called me at work and I couldn't shut the flood gates. I quietly snuck past my co-workers to the bathroom and tried to calm down and pull myself together. That didn't work, so I went outside and smoked (I know, I know, I'm really trying to quit, but sometimes... ya know.), that didn't work. I was headed back to my office (okay, so it is a cubicle) and my boss stopped me and asked if I was all right. I lost it. I started crying and couldn't stop. He just looked at me and said, "Just go home. We'll deal with it Monday." So, I did.

This week I have been trying to recover, and so far, so good. The fun news is that I have to go and get drunk at the police station tonight, then tomorrow morning they are giving me a gun with live ammo to shoot... You'd think they were smarter than that, LOL!

I hope you all have a great weekend and I will try to get better at this whole blogging thing! Lots of love!

It's Tuesday

Amazingly, I remembered it is Tuesday. So, here are two lines from the book I am reading right now, Touch of Darkness by Christina Dodd:

Guilt hung on him like mourning clothes. Regret choked him like a noose.

And the last two lines I wrote:

"Son of a bitch has a rabbit hole."
"So... how are you going to smoke him out?"

I'm having some commitment issues (read: fear) of finishing this book. It has taken on a life of its own and really doesn't want to go where I want it to go. So, looks like I will be barricading myself in a small room and finishing the freaking thing this weekend. If not, I may have to put it in a box, shove it under the bed and forget about it for the next six months and start a new project. It is really making me insane right now! Any words of wisdom would be greatly appreciated!

Citizen's Police Academy

Two posts in one day? Will wonders never cease!

I have to tell everyone about this AWESOME class that I am taking. It is the Amarillo Citizens Police Academy. Last night was the first class and I was so pumped after I got home that I couldn't go to sleep for hours.

I called the police department a few weeks ago asking to see if Amarillo offers a ride along program. They do and they don't. You can't go on a ride along unless you are A.) a recruit, B.) taking criminal justice classes, or C.) are taking or have taken the Citizen's Police Academy. So where do I sign, right?

I had to apply for the program and was notified that I had been accepted. The knowledge I am going to get from this class is going to fuel my writing for quite a while, I can tell. Now for the really cool part... ready?

We get to tour all of the restricted places - jail, 911 call center, bomb squad. We get demonstrations by the K-9 division and the dive team. We will do fingerprinting and evidence gathering with CSI. We get to catch speeders with radar guns, hang out with Narcotics and SWAT, the gang unit and special crimes. We get to go shoot guns with them, get tazed (or not) and we get to do something called simmunitions. We go into "scenes" geared up and have to handle it like we would if we were an officer and we will be "armed". Wax bullets... hostage negotiations...two minutes of terror...and a full 5 second ride with the tazer.

I'm going to have so much to write about. I giggle with glee... he he! My only nervousness comes from the decision to be tazed or not. I'm not a wus, but a full five seconds of 40,000 volts makes me want to pee my pants. I haven't decided yet if I am that brave!

I'm an idoit

Over the last few days I have come to the realization that I am an idiot. See, there was this party... you know it can't be good when it starts out like that. At this party there was a lot of food, a lot of people - some I knew and some I didn't - and a lot of alcohol.

Things would have been okay if I had just left when I originally wanted to, but I listened to friends - "Just one more hour, Crystal. Just one more shot, Crystal." That was my first mistake. The second mistake was that instead of just one more hour and one more shot, I stayed for four more hours and 16 shots.

I could laugh and say that was when I got stupid, but that wasn't when I got stupid. I got stupid when I decided to stay. I got stupid when I took that next shot. See, I'm not a big drinker. I may have ONE drink or A beer if my hubby and I go out to eat or to a bar, but that is it. The last time I got trashed was last Halloween (at a party with most of the same people). I was incredibly ashamed of myself that time because I HATE not being in total control of myself. Too many years of being not in control and being controlled. So, I swore I wouldn't do it again.

What did I do? I did it again. This time though, I embarrassed myself. I freaking cried at one point and I am so not that girl. You know which girl I am talking about - the one that by 11:00 is sitting in the middle of the floor bawling her eyes out because some guy wouldn't dance with her, mascara running down her face and a beer in both hands. I hate that girl, but I sat and had a serious conversation with two wonderful friends while we were all pretty much plowed and I ended up sitting in the middle of the floor, bawling with a beer in my hand.

I can get past that. Seriously. The part I can't get past is that I told my friends things that I don't tell anyone. Things I don't necessarily want people to know, and I know they will now. I can't get past that. Somehow, I managed to keep all my clothes on when others didn't. I managed get away from the really scary guy that grabbed my boob and tried to slip me the tongue. But I also managed to tell people things that give them the power to hurt me.

I cried most of the rest of the weekend...it's hard to take when you realize you have made a complete fool out of yourself. I embarrassed myself in front of two of my wonderful friends and I can't bring myself to call them or email them. This sucks!

Don't get me wrong, hubby was there with me the whole time. He didn't have just a great time. He doesn't really drink either, so a drunk party isn't usually either or our things. He swears I didn't get too stupid (I remember everything, so I know I got pretty stupid), and that I didn't do anything I need to regret, but I do. I regret talking about things that are extremely important, things no one needs to know about and things that give people the power to hurt me.

Officially, I'm over the whole drinking thing. I doubt this will be a problem again, because I won't let it. If that means I just can't go to the parties anymore, then that is what I have to do. Life is too important to waste it feeling stupid and out of control.

Two Line Tuesday

I am stealing this from Travis, but it seems like such a good thing to do. So, here we go.

The two lines I recently read are from Carly Phillips Hot Property:

Ben hated sleeping on a friend's couch. He hated feeling like a loser who couldn't hold a job or make a go at any career he started.

The last two lines I wrote are an addition to page 2 of my manuscript Broken Rules:

"Go change your clothes, you nasty little bastard." His breath reaked of cigarettes, garlic and vodka.

Happy Tuesday everybody!

I'm writing again!

Karin sent me this a long time ago and it is one of the best writing quotes I think I have ever come across. It is usually the background on my computer either at work or at home.

It has been weeks...okay probably months since the last time I wrote something new. Last night I wrote four complete new chapters. It was great. I even talked hubby into reading the two newest ones and he liked them. Please excuse me for a moment while I go in the corner and do my happy dance .

I not only have an amazing critique partner, but now I have a fantastic reader. She owns a book store, so you know she is a rabid reader. She's caught things that Karin and I haven't in the million and one times that we've read it. Things I never would have thought about.

Only a few thousand more words to get out and the book will be done. The thing is, though, I've already started on another one. I know that is a dumb idea, but the characters wouldn't leave me alone until I atleast plotted out their story. So the outline is done and the first couple chapters are written.

The Dark Knight

I saw the new Batman movie today. I'm sad to say that I wasn't impressed. EVERYONE I know loves the movie and a lot have seen it multiple times. Maybe my expectations were too high, I don't know, but I was bored. Within 15 minutes of the start of the movie, I was ready to go. Seriously, I freaking fell asleep!
To all of the Batman fans out there, I hope you enjoyed it. Hubby loved it. Friends all loved it. Me, maybe I'm just a freak, but I was bored. Not a movie I am going to rush out and buy when it comes out. (Who am I kidding, Hubby will have to have it, so I will probably have to rush out and buy it the day it comes out and then hide it until his birthday or Christmas or something.)
Hope everyone had a great weekend! Talk to you soon!

Teenage Angst

I was digging through all my old writing and found my secret cache of poetry. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Why is it, when we are somewhere between 13 and 17, EVERYTHING is horrible, no one will ever love us the way we deserve, and sex is a huge thing?

Karin jokes that I should write porn. I'm pretty proud to say that I can write a hell of a love scene. While reading all of my old angst filled (read really bad) poetry I came across some, and realized that even as a teenager I wrote porn. It's kinda surprising to stumble across some of my more... graphic descriptions. What is even more surprising is that I was very inexperienced when I wrote them.

This one made me smile at the memories it brought back. Everyone please hide your laughter until I am out of the room. Read this stupid poem, and we won't ever talk about it again, okay? So, here is my tribute to the horrible life teenagers believe they have.

Always Remember

We talk alone each night
With no one there to hold us.
The days stretch endlessly,
As the time draws close
For us to speak again.
Our time is short and precious
Minutes snatched from greedy hands.
Our worlds as separate as night and day
Yet as perfectly similar as dawn and dusk.
Though miles separate us
But a connection will forever bind us
I know deep in my heart.
Sometimes I feel so alone,
But then we talk and things are somehow better.
You brighten my mood without even trying
You bring a laugh to my heart
And a smile to my face.
The simple things you do,
I treasure deep inside.
The sweet names you call me
Make my heart melt and my knees weak.
Your words thaw the ice from my veins.
And bring warmth to my lonely soul.
I wish you knew how good it feels.
To have you say sweet things.
I love our chats our letters our visits.
And I hope someday you may even care.
I’ll be here when you need me.
To help and comfort and calm your fears.
I’m here to spread laughter and brighten your smile.
Always remember that.
Always remember us.

Okay, lets all go and get a margarita now, and bitch about real life!

A to Z All About Me

A-Attached or Single? Very Attached!

B-Best Friend? Rusty and Karin

C-Cake or Pie? Pie. Cake is gross!

D-Day of Choice? Saturdays. Usually the day I don't have to do anything.

E-Essential Items? A book to read.

F-Favorite Color? Dark blue.

G-Gummy Bears or Worms? definately worms

H-Hometown? Amarillo, Texas. But I was born in Memphis, TX

I-Indulgence? Books. I am addicted

J-January or July? January. July is WAY too hot!

K-Kids? none yet

L-Life isn’t complete without… Love

M-Marriage Date? December 22,2001

N-Number of Siblings? Two brothers.

O-Oranges or Apples? Apples

P-Phobias or Fears? Clowns... eeesh (I'm so glad I'm not the only one!)

Q-Quote? Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

R-Reason to Smile? I'm alive, I have a wonderful, supportive husband, an awesome family and great friends. Can't get much better than that!

S-Superman or Wonder Woman? Wonder Woman!!!!Girls kick ass!

T-Tag 5 people. I don't know 5 people to tag.

U- Umbrella or poncho? Neither. I love the rain.

V-Vegetables? Yum

W-Worst Habit? I smoke. Everyone hates it, including me, but I am working on that problem too.

X-Ray or Ultrasound? Neither.

Y-Your Favorite Food? Grilled cheese (sad but true)

Z-Zodiac Sign? Gemini

I stole this from Karin Huddleston huddlekay.blogspot.com go see her, she's awesome!

Making myself write

So, at the conference, one thing I kept hearing over and over and over was "write every day."

Guess what I haven't been doing....

I absolutely know I need to write more, but I always have all of these really bad excuses. I don't want to look at a computer anymore today... I have to cook dinner... I'm tired... There's a show on TV that I really want to watch... Stupid TV. I took the time to notice last night, even when my critique partner and I are "working" we are watching TV, how bad is that? Or, we are playing with her baby, or conversing with friends, relatives, spouses. And once I realized this, I almost cried. She (my critique partner) is one of the most valuable people in my life right now, and here I am wasting her time. I do have to say, before we got too sidetracked she was able to help me edit down an article I have due tomorrow, but then, we both just quit.

She was asked to join another critique group, and I hope it works out for her. I don't seem to be doing her any good at all. She does wonders for me, but what do I do?

Anyway, hopefully I have the will power to let my husband watch TV while I go in our office and write my little heart out. I promise myself, and my friend, I will write everyday. Maybe not on here, maybe not on my book, but somewhere. I have to. It is too important for me to just let it go.

We Won!

A few weeks ago, I got an email that said I was a finalist in the FiW 2008 writing contest. I screamed, jumped up and down like a five year old, and called my critique partner. She's really the only reason I submitted anything to the contest.
More time went by and she and I went to the conference. There were a lot of amazing people there. I got to meet editors and publishers and authors and realized that they are people just like me. I'm not completely over my fear of rejection (I know, everyone gets rejected, but still...), but I'm not terrified anymore. Let me set the scene for the awards luncheon.
My critique partner and I are sitting with an editor/publisher (a little nervous-making), we are eating bar-b-que (and I'm certain I'm going to slosh the greasy mess all over my clothes, and I was wearing light colors too, imagine that!).
There are a few hundred people in the room, and the president of PPW comes to the podium. She thanks us all for being there, and knows we are anxious to get to the awards. So, she reaches over and grabs the first envelope off the table. She announces the category, the judge.... and someone reminds her that there is a guest speaker. The tension level in the room spikes.
We make it through what seems to be the longest speech ever, and then the awards resume. Now, when I found out that my critique partner and I both finaled, I was pretty worried that we were going to be competing in the same category, but she finaled in Mainstream, and I'm a Romance girl (Well, I thought I was anyway.)
Finally we get to the mainstream category and my critique buddy wins. I want to jump up and down and scream and yell for her, but I manage to hang on to a shade of decorum. Category after category follows. I can't sit still in my chair. My knee bounces. I click my pen over and over. Finally, the romance category. And the finalists are... And Honorable mention is.... And third place is..... (I can literally feel my blood pressure rising. My eyeballs are going to explode out of my head, I know it.) And second place is.... And finally, the winner of the Romance category is Crystal Phares with Broken Rules.
I sat there like an idiot for a full ten seconds before my critique partner pushed me and I realized I had to go and accept my award. Reality had shifted for me, and I knew I was in an alternate universe.
I shook the appropriate hands, said thank you, and made it back to my chair without crying or falling down (a bonus in my life). After all was said and done, she and I sprinted to my car and immediately pulled out our cell phones. We both tried to be cool about it, sitting in this nice hotel's parking lot in a 400 degree car, both of us panting from exertion, heat and excitement and we call our husbands.
"Hey baby, how was the conference?" Mine sweet, sweet hubby asks.
"It was good. Met a lot of really great people, got some good advice."
"How was the awards lunch?"
"It was bar-b-que." My voice is quavering at this point and I want to tell him so bad that I'm ready to just yell it.
"You won didn't you?" He knows me WAY too well.
"I did! So did Alex* (I changed her name to protect the innocent involved!)" I practically screamed into the phone.
"Congrats! I knew you would win." He KNEW I would win? How? Did he pay off the judges?

See, my hubby is one of those people who believes in others. He has read maybe 3,000 words of the 65,000 I have written, but he knows it will work out. I want it too bad. And he wants it for me.
So, all in all, the 2008 Frontiers in Writing Conference was a HUGE success in my mind. Thanks to all the people who gave me great advice, and to all my friends and loved ones who have stood behind me! You're the greatest!