Wednesday Whatever!

Have you ever gone through your search stats? I’m sure a lot of you have. That’s the stats that show you the searches people have made that landed them on a post of yours.

Just for the heck of it today I thought I would take a peek and see how people ended up on my blog. Some of it is interesting….some bizarre. Some I sit and wonder just like Sweden did with Trump…..”What were they smokin’?”

Here are just some of what I found ~~~

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Now the most searches I found had to do with an open letter I wrote to my sister. Seems a lot of people are trying to reconcile with their sisters. That is either very sad or very hopeful. If you have a sister, give her a call, write a letter, or give her a hug if you can. Wait! Do that after you read my post. ha!

Ok, here are some others I found…..

fucking brath….nine people did this search and reached my blog. WTH?? What does that even mean? Am I missing something? I don’t ever recall writing something with that in it. If anyone knows what this means let me know will ya?

rain…..Hm, I did once write a poem about rain. But, 52 people reached my blog doing this simple search. I don’t know whether to be proud or worried.

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http://www.write a letter to your sister .com……Close but no cigar. My blog is registered under http://www.tobreatheistowrite.com, I did write a couple of open letters to my sister but come on….I’m not an authority on it.

good day unicorn humor….I suppose anytime you see or hear a unicorn it would be a good day. Or a bad drug day…….but some used this search term to come visit me. I have no idea why.

two cup coffee.….First of all, good grammar would dictate that it should be “two cups of coffee”, but eh, I’m easy and I do love my coffee.

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an open letter to my brother to respect all the girls.….Now, this is a search I can get behind! Good for the people who are telling their brother to respect all the girls! Way to go!

silly groundhog….Yes, groundhogs can be silly but I don’t understand why you would come to my blog looking for them.

mandarin language…..It’s my understanding the Mandarin language is one, if not the hardest language to learn. Especially if you come to my blog looking for it!

how to write about a Halloween party…..I did happen to write about a Halloween party but I’m no expert at it. My advice……just sit down and write about the Halloween party that you’d love to go to. You can do it!

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how to write a memo for his making sister.….Well, first I don’t think YOU can make a sister, your parents have to do that. Second, I think your parents don’t need a memo for this….but one can’t be so sure I suppose.

my mom name is……Um, I don’t know. Don’t you know your mom’s name? Hint….it isn’t mom.

how the write 17 of april 2016 in words.…..I have to admit, this one made me laugh. Ok, let’s see if I can explain this one…..You almost have it all written. You just need to make 17 = seventeenth and 2016 into either two thousand and sixteen or twenty sixteen. See how easy that was? Now all together…..Seventeenth of April, two thousand and sixteen. Easy peasy. Hope this helps. (make sure April is capitalized)

 

Hope you have found these as amusing as I have. See you later!

 

 

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Wednesday Whatever! ~~ A short story

Today I decided to do a little bit of writing. I went to *Random First Line Generator* and just decided to do a short story with whatever first line I happened to like.

Below is what I came up with for the first line of:

The footsteps were moving away.

 

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The footsteps were moving away. She took a deep breath, drew the hood over her head and turned to dart in the opposite direction when her ears picked up a slight sound. She froze, her nerves tingling. If she was caught they would kill her. No questions asked, no hesitation.

The sound of faint buzzing came from behind her. Damn. One of those mechanical tracking devices had caught her scent. If she didn’t move fast she was dead and she wasn’t ready to die today.

Reaching into her pocket she withdrew a small vial. After smashing the vial into the ground she ran down a flight of stairs barely visible in the darkness. Inside the vial was a concoction of her own making. A vile and long lingering scent that would confuse the tracking device long enough for her to make her escape.

Her lips curved up into a small sneer as she raced around the next building. It would take more than a few slow-moving guards and a bloodhound machine to stop her. She knew it had been a risk to come this close to her enemy but it was also the only way to get the information she needed.

Carson could make demands, yell and fret all he wanted. It didn’t make any difference. Sasha was always going to do what she wanted when she wanted. How else were they going to free her father from the prisons of Alazaban?

Her father was all the family she had left in this desolate wasteland of a world. She wasn’t going to lose him to a loathsome, ego-maniac like Drakon.

Drakon was a self-made lunatic. He had money, power, and men behind him. She had herself, Carson and a few rag-tailed friends. Sasha felt the odds were still in her favor. After all, Carson was the best mechanic around and could build things from almost nothing. Her strengths were that she was a genius with chemicals.

With the two of them and her few friends, she would make Drakon sorry he ever took notice of her that fateful day last year in the market. She wasn’t about to give in to Drakon’s demands.

Because she refused his advances, Drakon took her total dislike of him and made her the promise that she would pay for her stupidity. He called it stupid, she called it survival. It was well known what Drakon did to his former lovers when he got tired of them. She wasn’t going to suffer the same fate.

He kidnapped her father and told her she could trade herself for him. Wasn’t going to happen. Sasha was going to get her father back…or die trying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever!

I almost did a post about the nightmares I’ve been having. Really. They involve Trump and my ex. Now isn’t that the definition of nightmares? Then I decided most of us are probably Trumped out, so I decided to keep my nightmares to myself. I just hope they stop soon because I’m beginning to really dislike the color orange.

Instead, I decided we all needed a little break from the bleak world of Trumpiness. (Yes, that’s a made-up word. Go with it.)

Today I’m going to discuss Spoonerisms. (Yes, this is a REAL word.) What’s a spoonerism you ask? Great question! Spoonerisms are words or phrases in which letters or syllables get swapped. This often happens accidentally in slips of the tongue.

For example…

  • A lack of pies (A pack of lies) (ok, my mind is still on Trump, sorry!)

We’ve all had slips of the tongue. I know I do it. Especially, when I’m excited or angry. Then I want to say something profound (or profane) and it comes out all wrong. Which is funny and it breaks the mood.

Here are some others I’ve found in my research on Spoonerisms (or my procrastination on writing something more profound.)

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Tease my ears (Ease my tears)

My zips are lipped (My lips are zipped)

Cop porn (Popcorn)

Ready as a stock (Steady as a rock)

I hit my bunny bone (I hit my funny bone)

Know your blows (Blow your nose)

And this little story I found….full of spoonerisms. Have a laugh on me!

Goldybear and the Three Locks

Once a time upon, long before there were beddy tares, there lived in a far wood away, the bear threes. There was the boppa pear, the bomma mare, and the little bearby babe.

Now, this gramily of fizzlies hived lappily for a tong, tong, lime, weep in the doods, in a little louse made out of hogs. Things were fine until one morning when they sat down to pour their eatage. You see, the bother mare said, “My porridge is hoo tot!”

And the bother mare pasted her torrage and said, “This is har foo tot!” And the bittle laby bear said, “My porrige is head rot, fike a lurnace!” So the bear threes decided to go for a long woods in the walk, to let their corridge pool.

Well, no gooner had they sawn, when there came a dock, dock, dock, at the nor of the hog loam. And you know who that was? Right! Loldygocks. And she was looking for a plesting race. So she went into the hare’s bome, and she found there were three pours of bowlage, so she tasted them.

Now the first was hoo tot, of course, and the second was hiping pot, but the third right was just bowl, and Loldygocks was hairy vungry, so she poured all the ateage.

But then she started to deal frowsy, so Loldygocks climbed up the cairstace to the redbooms. When she got there, she saw there were bee little threads.

Now, the birst fed was hoo tard. And the becond sed was soo toft. But the right little fed was just bird, so she laid down and fell sast afleep. In fact, she snarted to store. (Snort!)

Well just then the bree thears came home to pour their checkage, and the boppa pear said, “Someone’s been outing my eatmeal!”, and the bother mare said, ” Someone’s been pouring my eatage!”, and the bearby babe said, “Hey, someone’s been grampling my sanola!”

Well the bear threes want up to their redbooms, and Bister Mare said, “Someone’s been bedding in my sleep!”, and the bother mare said, “Someone’s been beeping in my sled!”, and the little bearby babe said, “Someone’s been cruising in my snib, and there she is!”

Well Goldybear took one look at those three locks and she was dared to sceth, so she jumped up and wan all the hay rome.

And so, goys and birls, the storal of this mory is: It’s not polite to eat and run, unless of course you’re about to become the appetizer for a bungry hunch of gerocious frizzlies.

 

 

My grammar checker had heart palpitations on that one! Have you got any spoonerisms that have come out of your mouth? Let us know! 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever! Jan. 11, 2017

I’m going to tell you a true story. It’s a bit funny, a little sad, and a slice of my life as it is now.

It deals with the husband. Many of you know of him. I write about him sometimes. He’s had his share of hard times the last few years. Debilitating back pain, colon cancer and all that comes with battling that. Now we find out he has cataracts, in both eyes.

He is dealing with it all like a trooper. The man is strong in many ways.

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But…..sometimes our life is like a comic skit. A dark one, maybe, but a bit of dark humor never hurt anyone.

It happened one day last week. The morning started well enough. I mean, I managed to get up out of bed. I always figure that’s a good start to any day. I have a routine in the mornings. It helps to have a routine when you are still half asleep and need to do certain things first thing in the mornings.

I dole out the husband’s daily pills. So, I count out his pills and walk out to the living room where he is still sleeping. I put his pills in his daily pill container and still half asleep go to make my first, much-needed cup of coffee. Didn’t really look at the husband as he was buried under his blankets. Usual morning.

I grab my cup of coffee and head down the hallway to my home office. After firing up my computer I do what I normally do every day. I check out WordPress, briefly bring up Facebook, and then go into my emails. Same old, same old.

About an hour later I finally hear the husband’s shuffling feet coming down the hallway to his bathroom. Again, same old stuff. A few minutes later I hear him coming towards me. Probably just to say good morning. Ok. No problem.

He stops in the doorway, as our two fat cats have decided to lay in the open doorway and believe me, you can’t walk over both of them. They take up too much room. He stands there and starts talking to me. I only listen with half an ear because…well, I only had one cup of coffee and I’m reading….and well, ok, sometimes I’m a terrible wife.

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I glance over at him briefly when he asks me a question. Just a quick look. Then I do a double take. I sit back in my chair, grab my glasses to put on for a better look…..and ask him….What the hell did you do to your face!?

His face ….. it was cherry red with what suspiciously looked like hives! It looked terrible. I mean, really, it looked like it should hurt like hell.

This is pretty close to how our conversation went……..

“What the hell happened to your face?”

” Why?” (Rubs his face and grimaces)

“It’s red! And terrible looking! I also think you have hives!”

(Rubs his face again and looks at his hand) “Really? Must be from that cream you gave me.”

“I didn’t give you any cream.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Nope, I didn’t. So what cream are we talking about?”

“The cream you gave me. It was on my shelf.” (He has a shelf next to his bed where he keeps all his stuff.)

“I didn’t give you any cream!”

“You must have. Why would I have it then?”

“Why would I give you cream? I would remember if I gave you any cream and I don’t so I didn’t.”

“Then, why do I have it?”

Well, I had to admit that one had me stumped. So I get out of my nice warm, comfy office chair and say……

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“Show me this cream.”

We both shuffle back down the hallway to the living room where his bed and shelf are. And where this baffling, notorious, cream is. He digs around his shelf and triumphantly hands me this small tube that I swear I have never seen in my life!

As I’m trying to read the small print on this small tube I hear him say…..

“See! You gave me this moisturizing cream, so I used it last night on my face because my face felt dry.”

“I have never seen this tube before.” I murmur as I try to read the small print. When I read what it says I start to laugh.

“This isn’t moisturizing cream…..it’s shower gel.”

“Then why did you give it to me?”

“I didn’t give it to you! I would remember and I don’t, so I didn’t give it to you!”

“Then why do I have it?”

I just sigh and look at his poor face. I don’t know why he has it. It’s not something I would ever buy.

“Did you not read the tube before you used it?”

“I couldn’t make out what it said. I just assumed since you gave it to me that it was moisturizing cream. So I used it all over my face in the middle of the night and then went back to sleep.”

“Well, it’s shower gel. A cheap gel and obviously you are allergic to it.”

He uses his forefinger to scratch at a hive.

“Don’t scratch it! Go splash some warm water over your face to make sure the gel is all off. Don’t rub your face dry, pat it dry. You don’t want to irritate those hives.”

“Why would you give me shower gel?”

I grit my teeth and say, “I. Didn’t. Give. It. To. You.”

He goes slowly towards his bathroom, mumbling….”Well, I don’t know who else would give it to me. Had to be you.”

I just shake my head, throw the tube in the trash and give up the battle. We could go on for hours.

I get him a Benadryl for the itching and send him to the pharmacist to see if they had anything for the hives. They tell him just to keep taking the Benadryl and to use a cream they sold him for the itching.

He was miserable for a couple of days. I still don’t know where the cream came from. I have my suspicions but I gave up that particular battle. I did tell him to please…PLEASE….show me anything he wants to use or take before he does so I know it’s ok.

Welcome to my world……..

 

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Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday

 

 

This week  has been a week of reflection. Today is only Wednesday so I imagine the rest of the week will be much the same.

I know I haven’t posted much this month. I took an unplanned month off of writing, of posting, of doing much of anything, really. I can’t even blame it on an active social life, as I don’t have one. All my friends are online. I don’t have anyone here that I go out for coffee with, that I go shopping with, that I just hang with. I hang with my computer, my dog Sam and sometimes the husband.

Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t feel as if I’m missing out. At one time I had all those things. Good friends that I had coffee with, shopped with, or just hung out with. So I know what it’s like to have all that. It might seem strange to you that I much prefer how I am now. Today. Right this minute. On my computer typing out words that my friends will read.

Do I ever get lonely? You might ask that. The short answer…No. No, I very rarely get lonely. I enjoy my solitary lifestyle. It’s not for everyone. The husband hates being alone. In fact, he gets depressed if he’s alone for too long. He enjoys people. Being with people, talking, joking, laughing, drinking, whatever he and his friends do together. He enjoys that interaction and he misses it when he doesn’t get it. He is the type of person who needs other people around, he thrives on it. Unfortunately, since he got so sick and can’t do much physically his ‘friends’ have faded into the background.

This hurts him. He doesn’t understand it.

I do. Sort of.

The past year or so has been rough. Hell, the past four years have been rough. I don’t feel sorry for myself. It has shown me just how strong I can be. That’s always a good thing.

When my mom died at the end of May it hit hard. Not because my mom and I were best friends or that we had a tight bond. We weren’t and we didn’t. My mom and I had a rocky relationship since the day I was born. That’s ok. She taught me how to be strong and how to be my own woman. I guess you could say she taught me the true meaning of ‘tough love’. It was tough to love her. But I did. I just didn’t always like her. Or her me.

A few people know I have written my autobiography. I haven’t published it. I wouldn’t publish it while my mother was still alive. Now that she’s gone? I probably still won’t publish it. Not yet. Maybe never. It’s not pretty. I’m not even sure if it would have a happy ending. Because my life is still ongoing. For now.

The writings have a lot of my mom in them. She was never the hug you, compliment you, tell you she loves you type of mother. I never heard those words from her. “I love you.” Never. Not once. My sister and I had a conversation the other week and we discussed our mother and never hearing those words from her. It bothers my sister. It doesn’t bother me. Why? Because I accept that was the kind of woman my mother was. My sister has a harder time accepting that. That’s her right. I don’t try to persuade her otherwise.

The only time I heard my mother say, “I’m sorry” was for something she never did. Which seems strange, as she did plenty. Yet, the only time I heard her apologize to me was for something that was never in her control. My sexual abuse. She never even knew about it until I was an adult. Then she had to ask me outright if I was abused by the person who abused me for years. I told her the truth. That I was. She cried and kept telling me she was sorry.

I told her she had nothing to be sorry for in that instance. It wasn’t her fault. I couldn’t tell her when I was a child and it was happening. And later. Well, what was the point of hurting her so much? So I said nothing. Until she asked me.

My mother was who she was. I am who I am. So we never mentioned it again.

So many memories surfaced when my mother died. Then I received a box from my sister this week. It was filled with memories. With pictures and items from my mother’s house. I looked at all those pictures. Some of so very long ago. Of me. My mother. My dad. And I became reflective.

I called my sister and thanked her for the pictures. As I didn’t have any before that. Not a one. The reason why is another long story I might tell some day. Again. As it’s already a part of my autobiography.  And again, it’s a story of me and my mother.

So, I guess, in a long about way, I’m saying why I took an unplanned month off from blogging. Life’s memories got in the way. Mix that in with just being tired to the bone and you have the recipe for doing nothing. Or almost nothing. For a month.

I’m catching my breath back again. With the help of my friends. Here. Now. You. I will be ok.

Thank you.

 

Wednesday Whatever!

Hello, People!

 

Wednesday

 

Ah, it’s good to be back! It seems I took an unplanned mini-vacation from blogging. It’s been a couple of weeks since my last post. Seems a lot longer. Now I’m back in the saddle again. Did you miss me? No? Ah well, I missed you!

The reason for the time away from blogging was nothing serious. I was just super busy and a bit lazy. Seemed like the husband and I had something to do almost every day. The days we didn’t have appointments I spent doing nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true either. I read books, I cleaned house and I watched endless videos on YouTube. Yeah, being super lazy. No writing, not being creative, no brain cells spent.

The husband is done with chemo treatments. He is doing better. He had another colonoscopy Friday to make sure no more tumors have grown and to check on his colon operation. The only problem the doctor found was where they had patched his colon together after removing the tumor. They had to dilate that area as it had collapsed. Otherwise, he was healthy. Yay! It’s been a long year of operations and chemo treatments for him.

A person doesn’t realize how much pressure they are under until some of it is gone. I was so tired lately. Now, I’m doing better and ready to blog again. Maybe even work on my books! Look out world here I come…..again.

Some of my online friends were worried about me and I thank them for that. You know who you are. You guys are the best. You emailed me and asked how I was doing. That helps more than you know.

Last year was a pretty rough year. Between the husband’s cancer and chemo treatments to my mother dying. Yeah, rough. It’s getting better now. Good things are happening with more good things on the horizon. I just needed to catch my breath for a bit.

I will try my best to get back into my blogging schedule. Hope to see you around!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever!

I was looking at my WordPress stats the other day. A rare occurrence for me, as I usually don’t bother with the stats page. If people read my posts that’s great, if not, that’s ok too. I’m not for everyone.

What surprised me was the one post of mine that was the most popular. It’s the open letter to my sister. I posted that letter on November 5, 2014. Since that day it has been read 7161 times. Almost three thousand more times than my second most popular post.

 

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I was floored. Seven thousand, one hundred and sixty-one times, someone has clicked on that post to read it. You know what that tells me? A whole lot of people are wanting to re-connect with their sister. That’s kind of sad.

That one post is consistently the most viewed post…..every. single. day!

Family members are probably the hardest to deal with, especially if there is anger, resentment, misunderstanding and grudges between them. I wrote that letter two years ago because my sister and I had drifted apart. We were no longer talking and I missed her. I didn’t understand what I had done to cause the riff between us. She just refused to talk to me. Granted we were hundreds of miles apart, with her living in Wisconsin and me in Canada. Still, I missed that sisterly connection.

So I wrote her an open letter. I expressed my bewilderment and my love. Hoping, maybe, one day she’d see it and read it. I don’t know if she ever did as she is not on the internet much.

Since my mother died at the end of May this year, my sister and I have started talking again. At first, it was just about my mom, then after she died about her estate. Now, we are talking more like we used to…as sisters. I very grateful for that. It’s just such a shame that it only happened because of the death of my mom. I’ll take it and run with it as I’ve missed her.

Even if one person who looked at that post as inspiration found that connection again with their sister, well then, I’ve made a difference. It was never in my mind to help others with that post, a bit selfish I’m sure but there it is.

So if you can, if you want, keep your family close. I’m trying. Although I have to admit I can and do well without some. But that’s a whole other post. 😉

 

 

 

 

If you were on the outs with a family member, did you reconnect? Or not? Let me know if you’re comfortable doing so!

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever!

Today I thought I would do some actual creative writing. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I couldn’t think of what to write but then found this nifty page with a bunch of writing prompt generators. The one I’m using today is ‘Random First Line Generator‘.

I hope you enjoy my little flash fiction.

 

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There was something not quite right about the window. Nothing stood out odd but there was something ‘off’. Like it had some of that old glass in it that when you looked through it made things off-balance. Yet the realtor said it was a new house. Built about ten years ago. The reason Clair bought it was because of its location. It was in the middle of a small woodland area. Yet in the middle of a large city.

Clair fell in love with it as soon as she saw it. On the small size but just right for her. The woods surrounding it were full of birds and wildlife and Clair felt at home the first time she stepped foot inside. Which was odd as Clair was a city girl, born and raised. She loved the city with its bustle and hustle, people coming and going no matter what time of the day. Always something to do, something to see, people around. She never thought she would like a home like this one but she fell in love with it and bought it that same day.

Now that she was all moved in and pretty much settled she had time to think about that odd window. Clair sat on the sofa with a well-earned glass of red wine and looked at the window. Taking small sips of her wine she studied it. It looked like the other windows of the house. White trimmed, looking out the left side of the house. It didn’t have drapes on it nor window blinds. Which was kind of odd as all the other windows in the house had mini blinds on them and this one was bare.

Clair got up from the couch and walked in front of the window and looked out. Not having drapes or mini blinds wasn’t a problem as the window faced a rather dense thicket and she knew the sun never directly shown through this window. Now that she was thinking about the window, it was strange that this window was the only one on this side of the house. Walking closer to the window she saw her own reflection staring back at her. It was almost like she was looking in a mirror until she once again noticed the thicket behind her reflection. Standing close to the window she raised her hand and using just her index finger she put it close to the window pane, she didn’t touch it, just skimmed it as she watched a butterfly making its slow way through the thicket outside.

She always was fascinated by butterflies and her smile showed her joy in watching it. Once it disappeared she turned from the window and walked back to the couch. “Enough of these fanciful flights,” she muttered out loud.

She picked up her wine glass once more from the coffee table and glanced at the odd window. Something drew her to it so she slowly wandered over to stand in front of it again. Taking a small sip of wine she noticed a small smudge on the window pane. Clair thought she must have touched the pristine window after all. She drew a kleenex from her jeans pocket and stepping close to the window she wiped at the smudge her finger had left on the window.

Frowning she noticed the smudged fingerprint still there so she wiped harder. Clair’s eyes widened with sudden realization……the fingerprint was on the outside of the glass!

The glass slipped from her hand and the wine spilled over the floor like blood as Clair slowly moved her eyes from the fingerprint to her reflection. She drew in her breath as her reflection smiled and gave her a slight wave. She quickly stepped back when the reflection in the glass took a step closer to the window, pursed her lips and blew a fog onto the window. With her fingertip, Clair’s twin on the other side of the window slowly wrote out two words……..

‘Help Me’

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever! (This post will contain TMI on me, so be warned)

Hello, People! I’m trying to get my life back to normal again. Well, as normal as I’ll ever be, which seems to change with the wind. So it is, so it will ever be.

Today’s post is going to be a TMI post but in a fun way (I hope). My friend (who goes by many names) did a post called ‘The Slightly TMI List of Questions‘. She’s a funny lady and I love her muchly so I thought I would steal the post from her and do my own.

Wednesday

 

Are you ready? And off we go………..

 

1 – Boxer shorts or budgy smugglers?

I would have to say boxer shorts. I like using my imagination…….

2 – What color of underwear are you currently wearing?  

I’m old….so white it is. Yeah, boring right?

3 – How long have you been wearing them for?

I could lie and say for a week and gross you all out….but I won’t. ha! Since I got dressed, about an hour ago.

4 – Do you ever use binoculars to watch people?

I don’t own any binoculars (note to self…get a pair of binoculars). If I DID own a pair I don’t think I would watch people with them. I prefer nature. You know, birds and animals and such. People I watch anyway, just with my regular old eyes. People are such strange creatures……

5 – Have you ever kicked someone in the groin?

Yes, I have. It was kind of accidently on purpose.

6 – Would you pull a trigger?

Yes, and I have a few times. At targets. Now if you had asked ‘would you pull a trigger at somebody’ the answer would be the same. Yes. I have a couple of times. Don’t worry, I never hit them. Just needed to scare them a bit. Which I did. If I wouldn’t have, I would in all probability not be here today so my conscious is clear.

7 – If you met your favorite celebrity, and they wanted to make out with you, would you?

I’m not even sure if I have a favorite celebrity. So it’s a maybe. Eh, who knows.

8 – Have you ever slept in the same bed with someone you were not in a relationship with (not talking about sex and one-night-stands)?

Sure, lots of times. Haven’t most of us?

9 – Have you had one-night-stands?

Yes, I have. Hey, you don’t get to be this age and not experiment or have a life, right? Right!

10 – Does sex have the same importance to you now compared to when you were younger?

Short answer….no. I’m at that age where I know sex isn’t that important anymore. Companionship, friendship, and communication have become more important. You’ll get there one day, my friends. Wait and see.

11 – Have you ever eaten a worm?

Not that I know of. But saying that, I cannot say for sure, as I used to drink Tequila. 😉 Who knows if I did or didn’t while doing so.

12 – What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever eaten?

Liver! That is the nastiest thing. Ugh. Now I’ve eaten grasshoppers, bees, ants, snake and assorted other creatures, but liver of any kind is just nasty.

13 – How long do you spend sitting on the toilet?

Have I mentioned that I’m old? So I have spent way too much time on the toilet than I should have to.

14 – What do you do when you sit there (besides the obvious)?

I don’t read, text or anything like that. I sometimes come up with story lines, though. Well, I did warn you guys that there will be TMI. ha!

15 – Have you ever been peed at?

Anyone who has ever changed a diaper of a little boy has been peed at. I don’t have kids but I’ve babysat them. I’ve also been peed at by dogs when they get too excited. So yeah, I have.

16 – What’s the grossest thing you have ever swallowed?

Oysters. I swear it’s like swollowing snot. Ugh. Or liver….again.

17 – What’s the constantly dirtiest place in your home?

My friend said cat box and I have to agree with her. I have two huge cats. So yeah, I would say the cat box.

18 – Why don’t you clean it?

Why don’t you clean it! Sorry…..got a bit defensive there….. um, I DO clean it. Every day. They like to come in right after I’m done and do their thing. Sigh…..it’s never ending because they are cats.

19 – Do you eat your boogers?

Really? You had to go there? I don’t eat them. Eck. I knew a kid in school who used to. He would sit in class all day and munch down. He didn’t have any friends. Kids are like that.

20 – Can you describe the one smell that makes you gag?

I have a very strong stomach. It would take something major to make me gag. I’m sitting here thinking, give me a minute……. Ok, all I get is rubbing alcohol. It doesn’t really make me gag, it’s more like a rolling of the stomach and a faint feeling. Yeah, I’m weird.

21 – Have you ever had head lice?

No. Even in school. Most of the kids would get them but I never did. Believe me, my mom checked.

22 – Have you ever been utterly disappointed in someone?

Yes, too often.

23 – Have you ever been scared of someone?

Yes, I have. When you look in the eyes of stone cold killer, you tend to get scared.

24 – What do you do when you’re drunk that you wouldn’t want anyone to know about?

I had to really go back a ways on this one. Way back. I came up with…nothing. Even when I was young, I never got that drunk that I didn’t know what I was doing. I might not have cared if I did it, but I never did anything I was ashamed about. I like being in control.

25 – Have you tried pole dancing?

No. If I was younger and more in shape I might as I’ve heard it’s good exercise. Plus have you ever seen what those people can do on one of those poles? They are fantastic!

 

26 – Have you been in a strip club?

Yes and I have never seen the fascination with them.

27 – Have you ever run over an animal?

Yeah, I did once. Even though it was a skunk I felt terrible for days.

28 – Have you ever peed in snow?

I don’t remember ever doing so. So I’m going with no.

29 – Have you ever made fun of someone and then regretted it?

Once. I did that in grade school. Felt bad about it and tried not to do it again. Unfortunately, I probably did do it again. Sigh, I’m bad.

30 – What’s your favorite kind of question on Cards for Humanity (if you know the game)?

Never played the game.

31 – If the father of your best friend hit on you, what would you say to him?

I don’t believe the father of my best friend is alive anymore. Well, I know one isn’t. The other best friend is almost my age and her father is very old. Doubt it would happen.

32 – Would you go out on a date with someone half your age or double your age?

I had to laugh at this one. Half my age? If I wasn’t married. Maybe. haha! Double my age? Not unless I’m into dating dead guys. As believe me they would be way dead!

33 – Do you clean the sink after brushing your teeth?

I don’t clean it no. I do however rinse it out….because ewwwwww.

34 – Have you ever spat in someone’s food or drink?

Ugh, no!

35 – Have you ever kissed someone only to be grossed out afterwards?

Oh gods, yeah I have. Like my friend’s answer, my ex used to do snuff. Now that is some nasty crap. Also, I never liked beer, so any guy that was drinking beer. Ugh.

36 – What is your number one goal in life, and are you living it?

Well, right now, my number one goal in life is to live, so yeah, I’m living it. hahahaha

37 – Do you spy on your neighbor(s)? If yes, why?

I wouldn’t call it spying. More like an interested bystander. Yeah, that’s so much classier than ‘spy’. Why? Because people are weird.

38 – Have you ever danced and/or cried in the rain?

Yes to both. I’ve cried in the rain when my heart was broken and it just happened to be raining and I was outside. I danced in the rain because I could.

39 – Have you ever ditched work to just chill out on your own (with or without Netflix)?

Yes, because I am an introvert and I need to recharge. When I used to work outside the home I would take a day here and there and just enjoy the silence and be at peace for a little while.

40 – What do you wish you were doing right now (uncensored)?

Right now? I wish I was talking to mom on the phone and telling her I love her. Since I will never be able to do that again, I wish I was in the forest taking a long walk with nature and enjoying the sounds of it, the smell of it, the peacefulness of it.

Or I was sitting watching and listening to a violent thunderstorm.

 

 

 

There you have it folks. If you want to do this let me know and link up! If not, I understand. Love you guys.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever!

Wednesday

 

 

I was trying to think of something to write today and couldn’t. My mind was blank. Then I saw this blog post come up in my email box (this one)

I like the blog, I subscribed to this blog and I enjoy reading it whenever one of the authors put out a post. You should read it. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Ok, for those of you too lazy to go read it (ha!) Michael Helms, who by the way is a very good writer, asks, ‘when is an author an Author? Then he goes on to explain that he read an e-book that he felt was terrible. It was short, so it wasn’t even technically a novel, it was also badly (if at all) edited. So does this make the person who published it an author? He says, no. And I agree with him. It doesn’t make a person an author if all they publish is a bad short story. That’s not the reason I’m writing about it.

The reason I’m writing about it and pointing the post out is this……..

Am I an author? Or just a wannabe? Or maybe I’m ‘just a writer’.

You see, I’m not against what Michael says in his post. I’m more challenging some of the comments on the post. It’s the age-old debate…..does self-publishing make you an author or someone who just self-published? And if a writer puts out a book that isn’t professionally edited with a professional book cover does this automatically make it a bad book?

As most of you know my books were NOT professionally edited nor do they have professional book covers. Although I must admit I think the kind friend who did my book cover could be a professional at book covers. Anyway, the point being….does not having ‘professionals’ involved in the process make it a bad book? Automatically?

I think what got to me the most about Michael’s post was it hit a nerve with me. It hit my self-doubt button. That sucker is never far from the surface anyway.

 

Writer-

 

Am I an author? Or just a wannabe? Am I a fake because I self-publish?

In my comment to the post, I admitted that I did not have professionals involved in the process of publishing my books. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I’m a poor person. I just don’t have the money to hire professionals. Which brings me to another question. Are you a ‘professional’ just because you get paid to do something? I imagine you must have experience too. The couple of people who helped me edit my books are not paid to edit. But, one is a writer with many books under her belt and one was a teacher for most of his life. Does not THAT make them ‘professionals’?

Besides, I’ve seen traditionally published books with lots of editing mistakes. Does that discount their professionalism?

I’ve been having lots of problems getting my third book going. I have self-doubts as I mentioned. I am tired most of the time…….I could make dozens of excuses as to why I’m not writing. The bottom line is the doubt. Am I a writer? An author? Or a fake?

I know this feeling will pass. At least I hope it will. It’s not Michael’s fault that his article brought up these feelings. Nor the commentators on his post. It’s all mine. I own it.

Do I have to be traditionally published to be taken seriously as a writer? Some would answer that last question with a resounding yes. Why? Because that’s how it’s always been done? Times change folks. I’m old, but not too old to change with the times. Self-publishing is not a bad thing and yes it’s here to stay. Get used to it.

Now all I have to do is get myself in gear again and start writing, whether I’m an author or not. Because I refuse to let my fears or other’s opinions keep me from my dreams.

 

 

What’s your take on this debate?

 

Wednesday Whatever!

Today is going to be more word fun. I love words, letters, paragraphs, stories. There are so many people out there with so much talent for writing good stories. Sometimes though I like to read short stories or flash fiction. I love to write them too.

I think the shortest stories I’ve written were the six-word stories that you see sometimes as challenges. Now that truly is a challenge! It’s not so easy. I suppose the most famous six-word story is the one by Hemingway. I’m sure you are familiar with this one…. “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

In fact, I just did a six-word challenge not too long ago over on J.A. Allens blog. She has a challenge going every week over at her blog, why not check it out?

I went on the search for some six-word stories. Here’s some of what I found. I hope you enjoy them!

 

Wednesday

 

I’ll start out with my own six-word story that I did for J.A. Allens challenge.

Stormy night. Checked in Hotel California.

Now some of what I found.

microfiction_web

 

download (1)

 

beautiful

 

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9a874ce23e845b2b14f4460a0a7cb898

 

img_20160217_101621181-1-e1455805445619

 

5ade19b8-8cfc-48e2-aedc-638e293a8c41

 

 

 

Can you write your own six-word story? Please do in the comment section, I would love to read them! 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Whatever! ~~~ Short story Part 2

Today on Wednesday Whatever, I thought I would continue with the short story I started about a month ago (has it been that long??). Several readers and friends asked for the next part, so here it is!

Hope you enjoy.

I haven’t come up with a title yet. Anyone have any ideas? Let me know!

Part one can be read …… here.

 

abandoned town

 

 

Marisa’s eyes scanned the surrounding areas. Trying to see if anything or anyone was in the shadows along the deserted street. The man remained quiet after his statement that she should join him. Who was he? How did he know her name? Why should she join him?

She liked being alone. She didn’t have to watch out for anyone but herself and that suited her just fine. Marisa stayed as still as the man down the block. Except her eyes took everything in. A person had to be prepared to move fast.

“I was told that someone had information on my family. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

The only thing that moved on the man was his mouth. His eyes never left Marisa since she walked out of the shadows.

“I know where your brother is. I can take you to him.”

Marisa studied the man. He had to be at least six-foot four. A big man, skin color that matched the chocolate bar in her bag. Eyes that gave nothing away. The sun shone on his skull with a filtered light through the leaves of the tree. He was a big man but there was a stillness in him that almost made him…restful. A strange word to associate with anyone nowadays. That’s what came to mind as she watched him. Restful.

“You know where he is? Have you talked to him?”

“Yes.”

That’s all he said. That one word. She wasn’t sure yet she trusted him. Something in her wanted to trust him. Yet, she held back.

“What’s his name? How did you meet him? Where is he? How did you know where to find me?” She asked the questions rapidly. Marisa wanted answers but it was also a test.

She watched him smile a slow spreading smile. It showed white teeth and a dimple in his right cheek. Nothing else moved but those well-defined lips. Then she heard a deep rumble of a chuckle drift on the breeze toward her.

“Girl you don’t trust easily and that’s what will keep you alive. His name is Matt. He’s twenty-seven years old and has an older sister. That’s you. I met him in the mountain’s west of here. He’s one of the smartest men I know.”

Matt? Could he really still be alive? Matt was what she used to call a dreamer. Smart, funny and loved to solve puzzles of any kind. How did he manage to survive so long? She loved her brother but she never would have thought he would survive the world going to hell.

The man got the details right, yet she still was cautious.

“Matt told me his sister once gave him a special gift. A small wood box. She told him to stick all his worries, doubts and hurts inside and the box would change them to dust to blow away in the wind.”

Tears filled her eyes and by sheer will power she stopped them from falling. She remembered giving him that box years ago. He had been a small boy, bullied in school to the point he wanted to die. She gave him the box and told him to never give up on himself. That he was gifted and that he would do great things one day. He believed her. She smiled.

“Ok, you know him. Just tell me where he is and I’ll find him.”

“Can’t do that.” He stated.

“Why not?”

“Matt’s a special friend of mine. I promised him that I would find you, if you were alive, and take you to him personally. I don’t break promises.”

Marisa frowned. He might know Matt and Matt might trust him. But, she wasn’t Matt and she preferred going alone.

“I do better alone.” She stated.

“Maybe you do. This one time though you are going to have trust someone. Me. Where your brother is, is skillfully hidden. You would never find it without me.”

Marisa’s hands clasped into fists. She hated anyone telling her should couldn’t do something. She watched the man watch her. He had a small smile as if he knew she was fighting telling him to go to hell and that she could find Matt herself.

After a few seconds she unclasped her fists, relaxed her shoulders and shrugged.

“Fine. I know the mountains can be tricky. At least let me know what your name is since you know mine.”

She heard the soft, deep chuckle once more as he moved towards her in slow, even paces. His brown eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter when he stopped in front of her, held a large hand out and said, “The name is Joseph. Telling you that you can trust me is not worth much. But, you can trust me, Marisa.”

“I got no choice, Joseph.”

“We all got choices.” He said as his hand engulfed Marisa’s smaller one.

“Come on, we got to move as we got company.”

Marisa gave a quick look behind the big man. Said one expletive and moved quickly to the shadows where she grabbed her backpack and followed Joseph deeper into the maze of broken buildings.