Friday, September 30, 2011
Ok, I searched the help board and they gave me this if comments aren't happening. First they said to enable cookies. If you don't want them enabled all the time, just enable them, make a comment then disable them on your browser. Other helpful info: 1) Try Clearing Your Cache out (http://www.wikihow.com/Clear-Your-Browser's-Cache) 2) Does it happen if you use another browser like Firefox, IE, Chrome etc? 3) Do you have any Addons/Ad Blockers/Pop-up blockers/Firewall that maybe blocking? They said those things may interfere with comment posting. Happy commenting!
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
I'm getting to that age now where I'm starting to be concerned about my looks. Are they fading? Am I as attractive as I was when I first met my hubby? I noticed a few wrinkles next to my eyes (laugh lines, to be sure) and decided to do something about it. I went to Target and bought my first ever age-defying face wash. Before this, I was content with just soap and water. But this new wash was splashed with promises of smaller pores, less wrinkles--younger looking skin! I bought it, hook, line and sinker. So, I tried it out for a few weeks and I started developing pimples. Unbelievable! So much money for face wash and it makes me brake out? I wanted to call the company and complain or at least get my money back that could be better used to upgrade my bulbous TV. I complained to my husband about the lies these companies get away with when he said, "No, honey. They kept their promise. You do have younger looking skin--the skin of a acne-ridden fifteen year old." Oh, vanity, vanity, all is vanity.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
When I tell people I write romances, I get a variety of responses but most of them are negative, like I just told them I have some communicable disease that's explained in detail only on the CDC website. What? Is writing about true love, relationships, what make people fall in or out of love wrong, bad or juvenile? I'm not writing bodice-ripping, lecherous tales of secrecy and seduction. Come on, it's me. If you know me, you know I'm not writing that. But some people give me such scorching looks that I think, maybe I should be writing high-brow, soul-searching literature, as if that's the only type of literature worth reading. But then who says, I'm not. Just because I happen to be exploring relationships, doesn't mean there isn't depth, meaning or a life-changing message in them. Reading is dreaming with your eyes open. If the dream is boring then you'll wake and find something else to do. I write to give my mind a little recess, a break from reality. I hope that's why people read.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
So, I'm starting my writing schedule again. I've been too long distracted with summer and company and fun. Time to get serious, or since I write comedy, silly, again. Have you ever had the feeling that you want to live in another world, be complete absorbed, lost from reality? When your life is too complicated, too stressful, too weird to deal with do you need to check out for a while? I do. I think most people need a bit of an escape now and then. Usually when I need that, I read a book because quite frankly, it's darn hard to write. Writing takes brain power, stamina, persistence, diligence and much more. Reading, or worse, watching TV, only requires a pair of eyes. So why bother writing when 1-there is so much to consume and 2-it is much easier to consume than to create. Well, I want to write stories that interest me, that explore my ideas, that help me to string out my thoughts, examine them and make sense of them. It's so interesting. There are things I find out about myself as I write, sometimes deep hidden secrets that scare me. I've uncovered a whole new me, and that discovery makes all the work worth it.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
This was the summer of the mass exodus of my friends. It's not that I'm not used to saying good-bye to friends. I grew up as an Army Brat so I moved on an average of every two years until I graduated from high school. I liked moving around, meeting new people, the change of scenery, a new adventure, a clean slate. But here's the big difference, this summer, my friends left me. And I hate being left behind. Most of my friends went on to bigger and better things--new jobs, next stage of schooling, new houses--and I'm still here. And here is full of memories of my friends. Church, where most of my friends are, is weird, when I expect to see someone sitting on the pew and they are not. Or the phone rings and I know it's not them, calling to ask a favor to to borrow something. I know the solution is to get out and make new friends. But some friends are irreplaceable. Irreplaceable because we passed through some significant event, like going through a hard time together or going through something joyful together. Those experiences create powerful impressions, impressions that fade into memories. And I try to hold on to those memories but it's as hard for me as holding water in my fist--the harder I grasp, the more the water leaks out my fingers--and out my eyes for some reason. I'm writing this because I don't think I'm always emotionally honest. I think I try really hard not to miss people and pretend I don't. Why? Pride? Don't want to miss them more than they miss me? No, I don't think it's that. I think I don't like getting hurt. I mean, missing people hurts like eating emotional wasabe sauce. But I told the hubbs after a few tears squeezed out of my eyes, if I can't take the pain, I don't deserve the joy.
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