MG passed away peacefully at six this evening.

Tags: family, life
feeling: sick
listening to: i will follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie

anthology

behind the masque - fiona jayde, cyan bell, taylor voltaire, and sheri livingston  (coming soon)

contemporary

breaking all the rules - monica robinson
laila's bargain - reese gabriel  (coming soon)
restless - nicole austin
sweet revenge - nadia aidan  (coming soon)
the spanish conquest - kate hofman  (coming soon)

fantasy

in the gloaming: an antholgy of faerie stories - cora zane, esmeralda bishop, k.m. frontaine, nita wick, and kelly heckart  (coming soon)
rookery cove: pixie's prisoner - lacey savage  (coming soon)
the raven - john lawson  (coming soon)
witch ember - john lawson (coming soon)

futuristic/sci-fi

pale stars in her eyes - annabel wolfe
snowbound: lionsblood - marteeka karland  (coming soon)

paranormal

djinni and the geek - cindy spencer pape  (coming soon)

shapeshifter

dancing on the wind - charlotte boyett-compo  (coming soon)

suspense

spies, lies, & duct tape - lyn cash

Tags: ebooks, linky, reviews, twolips
word count: nothing so far...
listening to: a neighbor's lawn mower

How do you wake up on Saturday mornings? Do you flop to one side to give your lover a soft kiss and lazy snuggle? Are you one of those folks who likes to burrow deeper into the layers of blankets, or are you one of those annoying overachievers who rouses at the first hint of golden streams across your face, pulling on your sneakers and sweats for that morning jog? Perhaps you have a handful of toddlers bouncing across wooden floors, throwing themselves across your body while shouting: “I’m hungry Mommy! Daddy, come watch cartoons with us!” Or maybe theirs a big golden retriever, leash firmly in mouth, sitting at the ready, tail waggling so fast you think his butt’s going to take flight, begging with sparkling eyes to be taken outside.

All of these scenarios are far more amenable to the scene that jolted me into wakefulness just two days ago. Picture it: California, seven-thirty a.m., Saturday last. I’m having a nightmare wherein people who seemed important at the time, were being torn limb from limb. (Hey, I’ve never claimed to have a healthy (subconscious) psyche).  Suddenly, an obnoxious beeping breaks through my brain’s conjured carnage.

Addams Family Mansion Smoke Alarms: BEEEEP! BEEEEP! BEEEEP! BEEEEP!
Cat:  [Throws back covers, gets out of bed, and stomps to bedroom door, all while yelling...]  What the fuck is going on?
Mom/Morticia:  [Calling from downstairs.] Gomez!
Dad/Gomez:  [Muffled rumbling and footsteps emanate from the depths of the master suite.]
Morticia: I tried vacuuming up the shaving cream and it set off the smoke alarm.

[A little back story: We read of a great stain removing technique for carpets in O at Home, which instructs you to slather shaving cream onto the rug, let it dry, then vacuum those nasty stains away. May I just say: Fabulous advice--try this at home!]

Addams Family Mansion Smoke Alarms: BEEEEP! BEEEEP! BEE--
Cat: Apparently even a blaring alarm can’t rouse the slumbering beast..
Mom: No, he had to have gotten up otherwise those things would still be going.
Cat: Oh...  [Pregnant pause, followed by an excessively chipper...] Morning Mom!
Mom:  [Laughs.]  Morning Cat. Bet that gotch’er heart going, eh?
Cat: Yeah, really.  [Pause.] Well, if nothing else, it’ll make for a great blog entry.

And that, dear friends, is how I greeted Saturday morning.

Tags: family, life
word count: rough, general outlines don't count--dammit!
feeling: chipper
listening to: i survived on the biography channel

You're feeling: deflated...sad...discouraged

To your left: a wall on which hangs a print of the Mona Lisa and my bulletin board.

On your mind: book reviews, short stories I haven't worked on, and other things I prefer not to mention.

Last meal included: beef teriyaki, california roll, tempura, salad with tofu based salad dressing, miso soup, a chicken and pork pot sticker, two gyoza dumplings, and rice.

You sometimes find it hard to: get out of bed.

The weather: "it's always sunny in California." (Not really, just wanted to type that in homage to the show It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia). It's also fairly windy today.

Something you have a collection of: besides books? Um...dunno. Candles? Oh, I know--vintage cameras.

A smell that cheers you up: coffee

A smell that can ruin your mood: skunk...or manure from nearby broccoli and strawberry fields.

How long since you last shaved: ooo trust me--you don't wanna know.

The current state of your hair: "fluffy"--I let it air dry today.

The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer): Depends on which desk we're talking about. The art table is taken up with a big sheet of paper I'm working on right now; as for the computer desk, I'd say the day planner.

Your skill with chopsticks: mediocre.

Which section you head for first in a bookstore: Peruse the front tables, then it depends. Sometimes the YA, sometimes "Literature," sometimes "Romance," sometimes "Sci-Fi/Fantasy" or "Horror," and occasionally "Mystery."

Something you’re craving: a caramel latte, but I'm trying to stay away from the sugar these days.

Your general thoughts on the presidential race: BAH!

How many times have you been hospitalized this year: Not more than twice.

Favorite place to go for a quiet moment: Bed.

You’ve always secretly thought you’d be a good: writer. HA! Little did I know...

Something that freaks you out a little: Anything that freaks me out tends to not confine itself to small amounts...

Something you’ve eaten too much of lately: Chips, bread, and crackers.

You have never: been to Peru.

You never want to: compromise my principles just so I can "fit in" ever again.

___
*Meme provided courtesy of Diana Peterfreund.

Tags: about me, authors, linky, listy, meme, quickie
word count: argh!
feeling: depressed
listening to: tomorrow never knows - our lady peace

I feel like I'm calling out to my parents downstairs: "Hey guys?"

Seriously though, does anybody know where or from whom the following quotation comes?

I'm talking about fate here - when feelings are so powerful it's as if some force beyond your control is guiding you to someone who can make you happy beyond your wildest dreams.

I've found it on multiple blogs and personal profiles, but no one sites their source--ARGH!!! (Have I mentioned how endlessly frustrating this is for a quotation collector like myself)? If you happen to know where the line originated, please leave a note or drop me a line. Gracias.

Tags: quickie, quotations
word count: *mumbles* haven't started yet...
feeling: groggy
listening to: the birdies outside

I don't usually post my writing here mostly because I fear copyright infringement. Not that my work is so spectacular or anything, but I figure if there are folks out there willing to steal another's blog content, what's to stop them from taking off with a short story that's been edited and proofed? (I mean, really--who in the world plagiarizes for their blog?! When I first read about this trend, it struck me as one of the lamest actions in existence. Is your life so boring you have to lift it from someone else? *Shakes head*)

Back to my original purpose for this post though: since the first story I ever published was in a (painfully) obscure local junior college magazine, and because I allow my dark/sinister side much freer reign in fiction, I thought I'd share that story with you guys. (No guarantees that this entry will stay up long, or maybe I'll change the access to "friends only." We'll see...) After you've read it, I'll also give the impetus behind this particular tale, since it's a wee bit disturbing.


Despite reassuring Dad that this was/is a work of complete fiction, he still wasn't a big fan.  *Chuckles* Okay, the man probably slept with one eye open for a couple of weeks, but it was still a work of fiction.

I wrote this in response to a challenge issued on the first day of my first writer's conference way back in 2001: two thousand words or less, fiction or non, beginning with the line, "I've never told anyone this before..." (I should also mention another story I wrote, a piece of flash fiction about a wife who shoots her husband to death after sixty-eight years of marriage, due to his uncontrollable foot-twitching habit. Funny how that one didn't seem so offensive to Twitch--er, I mean Dad's, delicate sensibilities). *Wicked evil grin*

Tags: short stories, writing
word count: grrrrr
feeling: so-so
listening to: quiet

Oh thank you for asking me questions! I think my shriveled up, black-as-night heart actually managed to pump out a few celebratory beats in honor of those who read my page. *Happy dance ensues* Just be grateful I'm not into YouTube postings, 'cause seriously? I have the rhythm of a wounded slug. No, I'm not being mean to myself. I have many (useless) talents--but cuttin' a rug just ain't one of 'em. Sure Dad and I might have taken first place in the father/daughter waltz competition of my seventh-grade cotillion classes, but--oh crap! Did I really just cop to that?

Anyway, y'all asked some great questions that I'd better hurry up and answer so I can move on to the little story about MG's near strip-tease during one of my most recent visits...

anywherebeyond asked: I guess I wanna know if your therapist really did that... :D

Indeed she did. Jaci would kill me if I revealed her exact age--especially with a birthday coming up later this month--but let's just say she's capable of recalling what "America's Oldest Teenager" looked like when he was fresh off his (literal) teenage years. Yes, a mature, elegant, licensed therapist trilling away, fingers firmly stuck in ears is quite a sight, let me tell you.*Shakes head*

my friend marygriggs asked: Where do you find all the cool socks?

Oooo! There's nothing I love more than sharing my love of socks. I buy most from a site called Sock Dreams, which boasts a cornucopia of socky goodness for both men, women, babies, toddlers, and children. A couple of other sites I frequent are: Absolute Socks, Foot Traffic, The Joy of Socks, and Rebel Girlz. I've also found some funky and unique designs on ebay, though they tend to be a bit pricier because the sellers aren't often located in the US.

carriejones wrote: "Do you ever wonder what kind of pajamas Dad wears to bed? Or what possess someone to use handcuffs as a decorating accessory? Where we buy our toothpaste? How did a couple with a fairly "old fashioned" marriage produce such a staunch feminist daughter? Why does Mom keep stockpiles of toilet paper all over the house? Ask away..." means I will keep reading your journal. Can you answer that second question? Please?

Hehehe. Sure Carrie, though I can only speak for myself. As for why anyone else might have handcuffs on display in their homes, I cannot say. Me? I think they're a great conversation starter, or possibly ender, or (if nothing else) a great litmus test for anyone who enters your home. I figure people who are comfortable with themselves probably won't be bothered by unusual items being in plain view, and might even generate interest/questions from some folks; and if someone is up tight enough to truly be bothered by a pair of handcuffs hanging around...well, I'm probably not interested in having those folks in my home more than once anyway.

In addition to these questions, cmpriest, mrkgnao, and kazdreamer were kind enough to let me know they're following along with the rest of ya's.  So thanks guys!

Tags: about me, family, life, linky, q&a, rest home tales
word count: meh
feeling: drained
listening to: picture - kid rock & sheryl crow

So I'm curious to know how many people actually read this little page of mine. I don't have a "hit" counter or anything partly because I'm not so great with coding, etc. and therefore am extremely lazy when it comes to figuring the application of such devices out; and partly because I don't want to become terribly depressed and/or despondent if (as I suspect) the numbers aren't very high. I mean let's face it, if we didn't care even the tiniest bit about garnering readers, we'd all be confining our thoughts to private journals as humans have done since the invention of language itself.

However that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate each and every one of you who do read my ramblings. I'm quite flattered that even one person who isn't a blood relative or paid therapist (and thereby somewhat obligated to care) finds these stories interesting. (And when I mentioned to Jaci (today), that she's nuts to think anyone would pay for what I write here, my mature, master's degreed, board certified M(arriage)F(amily)T(herapist) sat with fingers stuck in her ears, singsonging: "La-la-la-la-la-la-la! I'm not listening to you." I quoteth the e-mail I sent Sunday: It's truly disturbing when the therapist becomes more unbalanced than the patient.

Anyway, back to the original purpose for this entry: does anybody have any questions for me? This is your chance guys. Ask anything, about anybody, and I will answer to the best of my ability. Do you ever wonder what kind of pajamas Dad wears to bed? Or what possess someone to use handcuffs as a decorating accessory? Where we buy our toothpaste? How did a couple with a fairly "old fashioned" marriage produce such a staunch feminist daughter? Why does Mom keep stockpiles of toilet paper all over the house? Ask away...

(And if nobody has any questions they want answered...see! I told you I'm not that interesting. *Sticks out tongue and blows a raspberry.*)

Tags: family, life, q&a, snark, therapy
word count: i'd have to check...
feeling: okay
listening to: not listening right now

So Jaci the Wünder Therapist sent me a link to this article in the New York Times (which I will quickly summarize, since you're probably as lazy as I and unwilling to click the link) about a fellow who, thanks to his blog (Stuff White People Like) has been offered (a reported) $300,000.00 for the rights to a print version, composed of (mostly) new material.

Now, I love my therapist; she is one of my champions, one of the people who cheers me on when I have absolutely zero faith left in myself or my abilities. I've been seeing her for just over ten years now and holy crap--I am a completely different person from the twenty year old basket case that walked into her office a decade ago. That being said, I sometimes think her aspirations on my behalf are--well, a wee bit...unrealistic. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for aiming high and working to achieve one's dreams but I mean, come on! Seriously--who on gawd's green earth would pay money to read about my bat-shit crazy family?! Most people have enough nuttiness in their own families to throw a few lifetimes' worth of cocktail parties. The crackpots in my bunch--not unique; as for my perception of them as lovable and entertaining...well, that's due mostly to the fact that they're my nutter-butters. If you can't beat 'em, might as well appreciate them for the loons they are.

Speaking of loons--don'tcha just love my segues?--Mom and Dad have decided to give away one of the two pygmy palm trees that call our front and back yards home; something of which they have both informed me multiple times since making their decision Friday. (No doubt they'll be doing so several times more before the actual "event" takes place). All day, over and over and over again, Dad's been saying: "I'm gonna miss the pygmy!" Even more weird? At the odd random moment, like a Tourrette syndrome sufferer, he bursts forth with: "Pygmy!" (Before that it was, 'Barak Obama!").

Whenever he does this--behaves like a special ed. student, I mean--I look at my mother, shake my head, and say: "I'm stunned that I'm related to him*." If he's in the mood, Dad comes back with John Candy's follow-up line: "You get the pole out of your keister, we'll get along just fine."

Just in case anyone was wondering what the fabled pygmy looks like...

Tags: family, life, linky, therapy, visually enhanced
word count: um, erm...*squirm* talk to me later...
feeling: okay
listening to: again and again - jewel

Damn, damn, damn!

This will teach me not to put off my writing until the wee hours...I accidentally saved an itsy-bitsy new story snippet under the file name of another story--which was coming along beautifully, I might add--and ended up losing a huge bulk of good material. ARGH!!! I know it happened because I was too tired to double check the names before I saved...and yes, this was one of those rare times when I hadn't backed up my hard drive so those words are gone, gone, gone forever.

Of course, the 'rentals heard me cursing a blue streak despite being all the way downstairs--and I was actually holding myself in check!

Cat: Oh shit!  [Significant pause followed by frenzied typing.]  FUCK!

Mom: What happened?

Cat: [Brief explanation of momentary stupidity.]

Mom & Dad: Oh no?  [While exchanging facial expressions that read: "Hide the knives!"]

Mom: Can you get it back?

Cat: [More frenzied typing, now accompanied by frantic mouse clickage.]  FUCK!!!  [Calls downstairs.]  No...it's gone.

[Furtive murmuring amongst the parental units, most likely weighing the merits of hiding any plastic sporks along with all the other kitchen cutlery.]

Despite knowing I can (albeit) lamely reconstruct those lost pages, I can't help but dwell on a line from an episode from this season's Ugly Betty: "We're doomed. DO-OOOOOOMED!"

Tags: life, linky, troubles and worries, writing
word count: 251 (re-created)
feeling: hocked off
listening to: not in the mood...