Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Political Science: The Drop. Sad Face...

Well guys I'm going to have to admit defeat on this here. I clearly was not ready to take on the extra pressure of taking Political Science. I really want to say because it was hard, but that's not the reason.

Let's be honest folks I hate leaving my home. I hate leaving my home so much that I haven't been back to the VA to pick up the meds I so desperately need to be on.  I hate leaving my home so much that I haven't been t Volleyball, even though I love to play it. Nor have I been out since I went to the concert two weeks ago. I just outright hate it. Walking Chewy is my only willing break.

If I was lazy about Poly Sci I would not feel so bad. If I had money to burn I would not feel bad. If I already had my degree I would definitely not feel bad. But none of those thing are a factor. Fear and the sense of being over whelmed have gotten the best of me.

So the new plan is: Get more proficient at this hustle. Manage my time a lot better. Train the dog. Reestablish contact with the VA so I can get back on my meds. Begin to be a functional human being again. 

I admit that I'm not playing with a full deck. I realized this about a month ago and continued to put it off. It's kind of part of my sickness: to pretend that I'm okay. Really I'm not okay. And truth be told I haven't been able to write anything good since the meds wore off.

I've said it before. It sucks to know that I'll be on medicine for the rest of my life just to function. I should be okay with this since I have been taking medication for Migraines since I was 8. My pride has been injured most because it's not just Migraine medication anymore, and it's not just pills. It's AA, it's therapy, it's everything I abhor just because I can't be left alone. And the less I take care of these things, the further away from my goals I move.

Political Science was a fun and engaging class. My teacher clearly had enthusiasm for his topics every day. I wanted to be there. I wanted to write the papers if only to better my language skills. I just seemed to stay right on the outside of ready for this kind of pressure. Before I freak out and call this a failure, get all emotional and start thinking negative, I need to step back and examine why.

I've done that to the best of my abilities and I came to the conclusion that I can't in all fairness do right by myself with this class unless I handle the immediate needs first. Improve my financial situation, get back on my medications, train the dog because the alternative is killing the little guy and establish a better routine so my plan of attack isn't rushed unorganized and holy.

I think I should make this a list. 

No Place for Old Men

 So I have a friend taking up prime real estate on my couch for an undisclosed amount of time. As I was going over my day with him (most likely a new nightly ritual) the topic turned to old TV shows.

The Classics came up: I dream of Jeanie, I love Lucy, The 1960's version of Batman. Clearly this trip down memory lane was more of a retrospective. Like if these shows ever came on now would I watch it?
I never saw the Belly Button episode.
The Answer would be a resounding yes.
Big Shirley scared me.
Everyone loved Davey Jones.  Mickey Dolenz was my dream boat.

The only reason why I'd ever want to crush grapes.
I never got much into I love Lucy not because she wasn't funny. Because she was, and she is a pioneer to this day of women in Slapstick comedy. No my reason was a little more basic. The majority of her shows were in black in white.

Dick York rocked!
That's pretty much the reason why I didn't like the early version of Bewitched, even though Dick York was way better than Dick Sargent. Also the  same reason why I watched Mary Tyler More but the Dick Van Dyke show was way better. Or why I never sat through an entire show of the Andy Griffith show until it came in color.

To a little kid watching reruns in the afternoon color was very important. I loved the Monkees, I know all the lyrics to "Last Train to Clarkesville" (don't ask why I'm proud of this, just don't) mostly because it played almost every episode and because it was in color. I loved the Brady Bunch, What's Happening Now, The Partridge Family and a bunch of other shows that was off the air before I was even born all because they were in color.

But that's not the point of this blog, so I have to find my way back from this tangent I'm on.

Holy Smokes Batman!
He mentions that he liked watching Batman when he was younger because it was SOOOO Coool. Now he watches it just to figure out the plot before Batman does. Here is where I jump in and say I'd watch it just for the crazy speech patterns. 
Then the conversation devolves into how many different ways Dick Grasyon can say Holy Smokes or something else Batman!!! Or Dastardly Deed. Come on, who in what era has ever said "someone has to stop insert villain here from succeeding in his dastardly deed? I honestly don't believe that people actually spoke that way in 1966. 

Then after a moment I think about how Adam West still has a career in entertainment after all those years, still playing the same shtick. It's funny to me that he portrays himself as this doddering old fool. Kind of a cute very offensive but completely harmless old man.

You know Adam West might just be a genius. That or there is a niche for silly old men. Enter William Shatner.

Hey, back in the day Captain Kirk was the image of sexuality.  I have for no good reason, sat through too many documentaries about the original cast of Star Trek. 

Here and there you'd catch a smattering of annoyance when a cast member talked about  how much they sexed up Captain Kirk. As a little Trekkie in the making (more aptly I loved all things space) I could have cared less what the heck Kirk had on or didn't have on, as long as the Enterprise won at the end of the show. However, they still sexed up Captain Kirk, and I'm pretty sure he kissed every female on the show except for Spock's girlfriend.

But William Shatner is just like Adam West a silly old man making silly amounts of money being silly and old. 

Maybe they found their Blessing. I can't fault them for having a formula that works. 

One thing is certain; they aren't sugar daddy material. Not like these guys, well not in my book at least. But there is a place for them. And where ever that is I'm probably giggling.

By the way, its 2:48 AM and yes I'm still "working"

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Bean Counter

Yesterday's Tally: 1000
Made 16 bucks off the the change bowl in my living room +5
Re-Connected with a good friend +5
Discovered a new business opportunity +12
Paypal blatantly began censoring Smashwords' ebook sales -6
Found Paypal competitors +6
Made it to Class before Mr. Linsky (Poly-Sci Professor) +8
Recorded the whole Lecture +10
Got a metric butt ton of reading for a paper -7
Chewy pee'd on my favorite pillow -1148

Total: -108

Dammit Chewy...

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Snooty Poo and Shoes

So this is what I meant to write about before I went of on a Tyler Perry Tangent. Sometimes you just have to get things off you chest.

The Blessing I spoke about was the reason. I am  a phone sex operator. It pays the bills, it allows me to write, it allows me to attend school. I wonder what would I gain by talking about some of the calls I get? Truthfully that's not me, how ever I feel somedays I need an outlet and this blog is not the right platform.

Hey Stud...
I happened to stumble on a blog that by a fellow agent and it reads like a how to manual for professionals. Kind of like the blogs I follow written by published writers, what not do to, blah blah blah. Again that's not me.

I am not a seasoned professional, this is not my lifetime gig. This is my current hustle and truthfully I just hate leaving my house.

No Comment, really I got nuthin.
But lets get down to business. What's this job like? A lot of poo. I hate poo, I hate talking about it, faking that I like it, and it just grosses me out to absolutely the inth of grossness. And what do you think my regular callers are all about? You guessed it, Poo.

Another thing I seem to have the knack for is ball smashing. Just call me Dr. Squeeze.  What's scary about these things, other than my over inflated ego, is that I get these kinks. the taboo behind some of this stuff is really basic.

It all comes down to a person's desire to either let go or rebel. I'm finding out more and more that my callers have deep rooted desires to give up their control even for a few minutes. In being able to let truly relax they are getting their release. Get it release, heh heh.

Sounds like some poetic psychobabble? Well, because it is, but in this cliche, the truth is so blatantly frickin obvious. I can't think of anything off the top of my head to state that better.

You know the first time I did this job years ago I didn't have so many special kink callers. I guess that is no longer the case. Vanilla sex is a thing of the past for my customers. I wonder if it's a trend that will go the way of the Dinosaurs or jheri curls? Or maybe it's like those super high heels that everyone has but can't walk in. I got a few (oh God I wandered into shoe territory, somebody help me before I start window shopping at NineWest.)

My job is not all about kink though I wish it were. Lately I've been getting callers who don't specify their fantasy. See it goes like this you ( I say you figuratively, not YOU you) call the line, the line gives you options. If you're so half cocked that you can't sit through the option menu, guess what happens? You get the first available operator. No tag no special request, no warning you get that operator's alter ego.

You're Killing me Smalls!
Your Higher Power better help you if you get me and you don't like me. Here is a big pink FAIL sticker for your head (you get to pick which head). My alter ego is African American just like me, don't waste three minutes of my life and your time getting upset because you ask what I look like and I tell you I'm 5'8" with long hair to my ass, brown skin and a juicy ghetto booty. You, are not allowed to get mad, and YOU, still have to pay for that time.

I'm here to help you folks, it's my job. I find it truly frustrating though, that customers hold themselves up over the silliest things. Your fantasy can exist, as long as you sit through the menu options, then everyone is happy. You're happy, I'm happy, you saved some money, and I've made a new customer.

So a friend of mine asked if being in this corner of the sex industry helps me write better smut. No it does not. The smut I write and the smut I sell are two different things. That I'm when i'm working I know my audience. My book isn't finished yet I'm pretty sure that my audience will have a wider scope.

Any whoo the whole point of this particular entry was to ponder the question of having a separate blog for a topic like this. Honestly you guys will have to let me know. If you don't want to read about this here let me know. Or if you like the randomness of the topics on this blog, let me know. Frankly I don't cover this topic frequently enough to warrant a whole blog.

I think I made more sense at Three this morning...
Girl 6 signing out.

The Blessing

It occurred to me that I should start a second blog totally devoted to my exploits as a phone sex operator. Well I could do that, but how many times am I going to write about poo? Personally I hate poo, and I'm really not for spending more time writing something that's not going to make me famous. Though admitting that I'm a "sex worker" might just be the ticket to fame, it's not something I want to be known for. It's not like I'm going to have the Tyler Perry Blessing  or anything.

What is the Tyler Perry Blessing? Well let me first tell you in my opinion who Tyler Perry is. Tyler Perry is a large black man whom using his last dollar, made millions exploiting the black community. Go ahead and say "Don't Hate." I'm hating, and I have a good reason. Since WE (like the Royal WE) have supported this man for the last 15 years lets examine how he made his moneys. Then we can judge whether or not I need to do the same.

He invented Madea, Yay! Nothing like an 8 foot tall behemoth threatening violence at the drop of a pin and misquoting the Bible, to uplift a community. Now that's a Hollywood Win! I'm just saying, the guy dressed in drag and commercialized every stereotype and social dysfunction associated with being Black in America. Then the big tall bastard hand fed it back to us in stage form. People just as poor as he was, spent their hard earned money watching this garbage until someone had to take notice.  That dear friends is the Tyler Perry Blessing.

Before anyone brings out the pitchforks and starts chopping wood for the pyre, lets get a few things straight. I have taken the time to watch five of his movies and one of his plays. I even own one of them. Let me list them so you can for yourselves (if you're a fan) decide if I'm making any sense.  I Can Do Bad By Myself I own this one, The Family That Prays, Madea's Family Reunion, Why Did I Get Married 1 and 2, and Madea's Happy Family (that was the play). 

Let us examine the formula: each movie deals with some form of deception and selfishness. Each movie has some random person in it that is the quintessential bad person, not a villain, though some could make that leap, but these are "family movies." Most moves and plays, someone either dies, or breaks out in some seriously moving song. And my personal favorite part of every movie he makes is that "Luke I AM Your Father" moment. (when something known isn't exactly the truth or the whole truth) Such a gasps My Word moment, can't have a Tyler Perry hit with out one.

This was not my intention to rant about Tyler Perry when I wok up at 3:15 Am to write. Not my intention at all. I really wanted to talk about something else.

C'mon people there are not two kinds of Black People in this country. I'm not a Church going fool, nor am I a gun toting drug dealer. I refused to be represented as one. Good on Tyler Perry for finding a formula that works. He is shining examples of what Black People can achieve. From this amateur  writer's vantage point I can tell you that rising to that level would be freaking lovely. From another view point I think Mr. Perry can do something else now. He got his Blessing, he's never going to have to starve again.  I say put away the  drag suit and chop shop Bible. The royal WE will still be behind you Mr. Perry, you can stop now.

Next entry in a bit.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Spring Fling... In The Suck

A month after I complete Spring Fling I decided I should submit it somewhere. God help me if it did not cost me some loot to send it in. At about 4 AM this morning I had this genius idea, it's safe to say that I should not have my credit card handy at that time of the morning. What's not safe to say is that I have the number memorized. 

In case you are interested in actually reading  Spring Fling I'll paste it right here below. You can decide whether or not I should have invested the $15 for a submission. Before I do that though I NEED to thank my friends on efiction. They kindly ran through the story and made some suggestions. So what you're about to read is not exactly the same story posted on my website.

With out Further ado...

She hated her shoes, and everything else that’s happened since the Spring Fling started. Geri's brother practically begged one of his friends to take her. What’s worse was, her older sister spending the week adjusting one of her unused dresses for the occasion. The twins meant well, but nothing made a 16 year old more special than a make believe date and a dress on loan. Dave and Danielle decided that Geri would have no excuse to miss the dance. Their parents in uncharacteristic agreement, encouraged them to go nuts.

So Geri waited in the living room wearing an excessively short party dress and uncomfortable new shoes. She fiddled with the bodice stuck to her chest, the two sided tape made her skin clammy. Even after Dani took in the little thing it still would not stay put. 

Geri thinking she was off the hook hastily removed it as her sister left the room, during the fitting. She was putting on her t-shirt when Dani came back in with a roll of double sided tape.

"Tada.. Boob Tape. The answer to your prayers." 19 year old Dani exclaimed as she practically sailed into their room. "Why'd you take the dress off?"

"Because I don't want to go to the stupid Spring Fling." Geri stuffed her feet into dirty tennis shoes. She stomped over other side of the room. Trophies and athletic gear covered every surface in her area. Dani tsked then sat on Geri's bed.

"You really don't want to go?"

"Nah, It's just… It's just that no one asked me, and they will all know that you and Davie got me a date. They're going to murder me." Geri grabbed her favorite catcher’s mitt and started playing with its laces.

"Maybe they'll all be jealous of the hot older guy you brought to the dance?" Dani tried to think on the positive side. When she and Dave were 16 everyone made fun of them too. But at least they had each other, Geri was on her own. Sammy and Sarah were five years younger.

"Fat chance Dee Dee" She used Dani's nickname. " I can't go. I can't even hold up the dress right." Geri  looked over her skinny frame. She was lanky, on days when she didn't have a sport she didn't even wear a bra. The dress would maker her look even lankier, unlike her sister who had the shape of an Amazon.

Geri stood on unsteady legs as the door bell rang. Her mother raced to answer it. Her date stepped in, and Geri cringed, it was Paul, the most handsome guy she'd ever met. Whenever Paul came to the house to pick up Dave, she turned into a stuttering freak. Trust Dave to get the one guy she actually liked. She plastered on a fake smile when Paul greeted her. She was going to kill them both. When he cracked a million dollar smile in return she thought, she'd kill them slowly.

Like every other girl in the house, except Dani, they all loved Paul. He seemed to charm women out of their socks. Even Sarah the youngest, was infatuated with him. His family was pretty well off, though he was in college on some sports scholarship. He had the best manners, straight A's in school since forever and drove the coolest car, a 1970 Chevelle. Why wouldn't you like him?

She barely listened to what Mom was saying. Next, she was sitting in the passenger seat next to Paul. He'd been on the road for a few minutes before he cleared his throat.

"So Geraldine, I hear this year the student council outdid themselves."  He slid a look at her legs. The dress made legs look like they went on forever.

"Did my brother pay you to take me?" Geri refused to look at Paul, started looking  at the passing lights on the road instead.

"No I said I'd take you for free." He maneuvered the Chevelle on to the road that lead to Cherry Point High School.

"You don't have to lie Paul, it's okay." She almost wanted to cry. If she ruined the make up job Dani did on her face before even getting to the dance, Geri would never let her live it down. She choked back her tears.

"I'm not, I wanted too." He'd been watching Geraldine since she was 13. This was the first time he'd seen her in a dress. He liked her more when she was playing ball. This version was nice, but she smiled more when she was covered in sweat and dirt.

When they pulled into the parking lot, he quickly found a space and turned off the engine.

"We don't have to go in you know. We can catch a movie or hang out at the Dive if you really don't want to be there." The Dive was the local hang out, where most of the kids in town went.

"Nah, thanks though. I think the family wants to see pictures as proof that I was there."

Paul nodded once, then reached into the back seat. Making his cutest puppy face he held out a corsage. "In that case will you wear my corsage?"

Geri erupted in laughter. She snatched the box and ripped it open. "Paul you didn't have to get me this. It's not a formal dance."

"Well Dave and Dani said it was your first dance." He shrugged. "Why 
not make it special for you? I'll get the door." With that he got out the car and moved to open her side.

When they entered the basketball court they were greeted by thumping base on bad speakers. Garish colored lights spun off a hastily hung disco ball. Paper flowers and balloons littered every corner. The section designated as the dance floor was surrounded by onlookers poking fun at the few dancers brave enough to enjoy themselves.

Paul lead her to a chair which she sank ungracefully into after a moment. Her hair was already coming loose in the up do her mom and sister made. Not only was it falling in her face, but the hundred pins meant to keep it in place were scratching her scalp.

Paul had disappeared and returned with drinks. She took the drink, praying she wouldn't spill the red punch on her dress. He sat next to her quietly, going over how Dave asked him to take out his sister. This night couldn't have come at a better time.

He watched her grow anxious, then he asked her to dance only to see the color drain from her face. When her friends came to comment on her dress, she visibly shrank from them. Geri was more than uncomfortable, and he wanted to help her. In her, though, he sensed her need to brave out this night. Somewhere deep inside her she had something to prove. He kept his peace.

After an hour of watching her fidget he decided he had enough. She'd sat beside him petrified to even look in his direction. If he was  younger, he'd probably leave her alone. But he knew Geri and knew what made her tick. Sports, lots of it, so he started with the season she was having at school. Gradually she smiled more, her shoulders finally came down from her ears, she even laughed at his joke about the coach's gym socks.

The next hour passed quickly and he'd convinced her to take off her shoes. She was grateful that he said he didn't care for heels. Suddenly she wasn't afraid of him anymore. Geri wanted Paul to like her. He might be out of her league now but a few years from now she'd be allowed to date him. There was hope.

Paul saw the moment she made a decision. He hoped it would be about him. He could already call this night a success just by getting her to smile, but what if she danced with him? Her hair was coming loose and neither of them cared. He reached for a strand of dark brown hair.

When she didn't flinch he twirled it around his finger. She leaned just enough forward to let him tuck it behind her ear. Looking in his eyes her heart sped up. "This is it." she thought. "He might kiss me." She leaned just a little closer to him.

Before their lips touched a screech rang out from across the gymnasium. A gaggle of angry teenage girls ran from the bathroom, followed by a cloud of smoke. The folks on the dance floor broke into laughter that died when the smell of the smoke reached them. It was awful.

The Principle climbed on the makeshift stage near the DJ booth. He was kindly asking everyone to wait outside while they figure out exactly what was going on in the ladies room.

Paul and Geri decided it was time to go. He rose and draped his jacket around her shoulder and helped her to her feet. Before she had to chance to put her shoes back on Paul tucked them under his arm.  He took her hand in his as they walked out the doors with everyone else.

Some of her class mates called her over. So he led to them there and waited while she finally talked to them.

"Geri you would not believe what Heather Blackmier did…" They all began talking over each other at once. While they talked, more shoes came off. Periodically you could hear the ping of discarded hair pins. By the time the gym was declared safe the girls in Geri's circle had ruined their outfits.

Paul liked each and every one of them for throwing aside the social norm to be comfortable. But Geri was the one who stole his heart. She almost kissed him, he felt it.
If it weren't for what ever happened in the bathroom, they could have been dancing right now.

Paul let it go, with a sigh. There would be other times, he'd make sure of it.

He gently extracted Geraldine from the group with a gentle tug. They all waved good night. He escorted her to the Chevelle and helped her into her seat.

Once in the car, Paul looked ahead at the gym. He really wanted to dance with her.

"What's wrong Paul?" She looked at him with a half smile on her beautiful face.

"Nothing really." He tried not to sound hurt.

"Oh really?" She looked out the windshield at the gym. "I had a nice time tonight. Thank you for taking me."

He looked at her profile until she returned his gaze. Again he reached for a loose strand of her hair. She smiled at his touched.

"I'm glad you had fun. You looked like you wanted to bolt for a minute though."

"Yeah, but you made it better." She smiled as he twirled the lock around his finger.

"Good, when the next dance comes up I'll take you to that one then." He smiled in the dark at her then he started the car.

They drove in silence. It was a comfortable one, barely broken by the low hum of the engine. When they pulled up to Geri's house, they both looked at the door reluctantly.

"We can just sit here if you want?" Geri offered, not wanting the moment to end.

"Yeah I can sit for a bit. You want to hear the radio?"

"Okay." She let him pick the station. Just so, since it was his car.

When he found a channel that played slow music he sat back. Not that the popular stations weren't good, he just figured something slow would be more fitting. As he sat back he felt her watching him. For the first time this whole night he was a little nervous.

"You-you know there was one thing I wish we did while we were there tonight." He was looking at his hands on the wheel.

She'd never heard Paul sound unsure. Maybe he was going to ask her to kiss him, she thought.

"Yes?" she leaned in hoping to get him to kiss her first. She even lowered her eyelids a little bit.

"We…" He turned as he spoke only to be caught off guard by Geri's upturned face and puckered lips. This was not what he had in mind when he pulled up to her house.

Geraldine opened her eyes when he stopped talking. Here she was waiting for her first kiss, it now looked like she'd never get it. She was mortified. Geri shrank back to the farthest reaches of passenger seat.

"Sorry." She said as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

"No  I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I just thought.."

"Looks it's all right Geraldine. I promise." He was truly amazed at how she'd already wrapped him around her finger. He'd do anything for her.

"I should not have done that." She was still upset that he'd rejected her. She looked again at the house. The front door light was on. The windows above weren't lit. Even so she knew at least one of the twins were watching. She hope they didn't see her try to kiss Paul.

"It's okay. I was going to ask you to dance."

She changed from shy to excited in the blink of an eye. "I'd love to dance."

"Really?" At the University where he attended, the girls all seemed to resent any mildly romantic gesture. He almost hated asking a woman to dance nowadays.

She nodded eagerly, eyes bright.

"Let me get the door." He was out the Chevelle and on her side in an instant. He reached in to turn up the radio after she cleared the passenger door. The Flamingoes crooned I Only Have Eyes For You on the radio. 

He took Geri into his arms. He placed one hand high on her hips the other cradling her hand to his shoulder. They stared into each other's eyes. As they swayed slowly to the old tune, Paul tilted his head forward just enough to place a gentle kiss to her temple.

Geraldine sighed. It was not the kiss she was hoping for, but it would do. She lay her head on his shoulder as the song dwindled away. The next song was a little faster and they picked up accordingly. As the Bee-Gees wondered How Deep Is Your Love they scooted closer to each other.

By the end of the song, they'd stopped moving all together.

"Maybe I should go inside." She said with absolutely no conviction. Geri couldn't think of any place she'd rather be, than in his arms. He squeezed her tightly before opening a space between them.

20 years later.

"Aww Honey listen…" Geraldine turned up the radio much to the twins displeasure. Jimmy and Jamie hoped their parents weren’t going to get all mushy. Every time this song came on, they stopped and danced.
Groans erupted as Paul pulled over to the shoulder. Ignoring the kids they looked at each other and remembered that night twenty years ago when the Flamingoes crooned to them alone after the Spring Fling.

With the music loud enough to hear over the passing cars they meet between the head lights. Geri floated into Paul’s arms, just like their first dance he kissed her temple, and held her close.

M'kay kiddies, then at about 5 AM I decided I was going to start another short story. This one I affectionately call, "In the Suck." Now you military minded folk will automatically think of all kinds of unfortunate scenarios involving sand storms and engineering casualties. Or worse sand storms and gun fire, or earthquakes and tsunami's or something truly and terribly SUCK. Throw those ideas away. That's not the kind of suck I'm dealing with here.

In the spirit of tax season I'm doing another short, in first person this time, about someone going to get their taxes professionally prepared.   So far the day my character is having pretty much sucks. I'm hoping to have that finished an posted in Google docs by this time next week. Look for it.

Hey btw, lately I have been networking some truly unique people. Their blogs have ended up in the follow pile. Feel free to check out L.A.M.E and JJ's Journey.  Girl's Got Shine still remains a "Ms. Townes Favorite" however I think I managed to find some serious nuggets every time I check out the list. You folks should too.

Happy Hump Day

Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Villain

On my Facebook page, the book page, the one I update very rarely, I talked about you guessed it the villain.

Clearly I'm having more of a hard time getting past the villain. But I wonder if I should insert a back story about his mother. The story of his mother pretty much defines his entire view of how he sees women. It defines how he treats the magic around him. It colors his feelings for Celine, Ruddick and A-23.

Renee Malik (his mom) is a natural born magic user. She is gifted, like Celine, but not nearly as powerful. She's not even in the same league with Verine'e (Vere-uh-knee), who is light years more gifted and better trained than Celine Heydan. Yet, she was taken shortly after the birth of Kareem Malik, and forced into the army of the false god. What little magic she had was corrupted and even years after her escape and eventual rescue from the false god's army, she magic still hold a slight taint.

I plan in a later chapter or maybe even in this chapter making Malik relive the time before the return of his mother. I think I'll do it in two parts. How Renee was captured, how she was tortured and what work she was forced to do will be one part. How Malik developed as a boy without his mother. How he adjusted after her return. I think the best thing for me is to illustrate how the whole family treated her upon her return.

This sounds like a lot of work. I'm once again excited to have the inspiration take me.

Hey thank you folks for taking the time to read a little bit into this blog. I've passed 1100 views since its creation in mid December. I hope this continues through out the process of getting this book and the rest of my life in some semblance of order.

Friday, February 17, 2012

The small miracles

Today I took Chewy on a walk and you know what he did? Do you care? He went #2 outside! It only took a month! The pads were getting expensive. That and I was beginning to think I'll never use those special bags I bought just for picking up after him. Progress!

So after gushing profusely over Nurse Mom's voicemail I returned home and thought: Now what? I mean it's a battle won and not the war. But it made me think of all the other stuff that I needed to take on.

The book, has been languishing at chapter six for like evah, this blog hasn' been updated in like 4 evah, Poly-Sci is kicking my ass again, and Ms. Townes has quietly put everything down and had a screw it all moment.

The small miracle about all this is that today is day 179 of sobriety. I haven't given away my dog. Chapter six is about to get the jump start of a life time. I've donated my voice to a habitual pod caster. I have VA health care now. I'm about to get a fabulous paycheck and there's a concert tonight that I have a ticket to attend.

Life is on the up and up. I even met someone. I'm not really into him but it's a start. I'm hoping I can find the courage to tell him let him down easily. Every instinct in me says to be rude and abrupt about it. In my new found sobriety I don't believe that is a good idea. But the fact is, I need to scratch this new person off my list, so scratch him off I will do. (Don't ask what's wrong with him, I'm not going to tell.)

But yeah small miracles. I even go in touch with a publishing consultant. Something about this guy seems fishy. Says my spidey senses, I wonder how much this guy is going to charge...

Friday, February 10, 2012

Just as messed up as I am

Over on eFiction there are a bunch of writers that pretty much fart around all day thinking up clever things to say to each other. Don't mistake my tone on this I do it too, and I am so not ashamed of this.

One of the folks over posted his blog today that focused on rejection. Not from a dating stand point, but from a professional standpoint.

First two lines on this blog had me laughing out loud, not a lol moment, an actual "Ho sh*t that was funny."

So I invite you all to enjoy this guy as much as I did. Click the link below and happy laughing.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Random for random's sake

The rest of my furniture arrived today. Almost a month after I discharged, but it's cool. So I've been unpacking for the last 24 hours, I'm no where near finished.

Put the music on random and set the brewer on constant. This kind of undertaking calls for lots of music and lots of tea.

Alanis Morrisette  comes up on and what's playing "Would Not Come" of her second album. I'm singing along with her, unpacking box after box of glass ware. Best part of it, aside the base line through out the song, "I'd have an orgasm still it would not come."

Amazing how tongue in cheek that line is. I wonder how many times have I gotten the joke there? I wonder how many times I didn't get and just sang right along?

I figured I share that with you. You want to know what the next song was? No? I'mma tell you anyway. Madonna and Kanye West, "On The Beat Goes." I told you random.
Wow he actually looks king of cute here!

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Pressure vs. Procrastination

The movers finally dropped of my furniture. I'm excited about this because I have a paper due tomorrow for my Poly-Sci class.

I'd love to sit down and work on it. Now that I have chairs and a couch and my own bed (instead of the air mattress) I can do this. Now that I have all aforementioned items I get to unpack them too. Stacey, my boss at Pleasure Play Pen, is also "encouraging" me to log on more. My customers like me and she wants to feature me. Which to her frustration she can't until I come one more often. For the life of me I need the money, I just can't commit.

What I'd really love to do is push all that off my table and finish the article (yes I said that word) on dating. It's not going anywhere but here in the Dog Log, however comma, I have to do research on it so its not just a normal entry anymore.

The question is: Does money matter in a relationship? I'm going to find out what a few people feel about that. So far I've got some info from Match. com that apparently does a survey every year to track dating trends. Who knew! Not this lil ms.

What to do, unpack write, or get on the lines? Technically I can do two out of three no sweat. But I'll do it later. That feeling of being overwhelmed is wining this battle. I really think I'm about to shut down sadly I'm not allowed so I'll do something light like set up the TV or something.

Oh and I dyed my hair Auburn, it's not Auburn. It's not what I wanted but at least it's not really bad.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Testing my mettle

I desired to meet people yesterday so bad that I invited myself to a charity event. Sadly it was at a bar, but I went and had two Sprites.

Funny thing I'd been thinking this same scenario in my mind for as long as I've been living here in San Diego. Of course the AA-ers would think this is a bad idea. But for some reason I kept thinking I could and would do this.

So I gathered a bag of item's I'll never wear again and trotted my happy sober self on to the Foundry. It's some where on University, tiny place and fairly decent food.

Here I am surrounded by the sights and smells and sounds associated with social inebriation. I introduced myself to one of the organizers then promptly make an attempt to get my Sprite. No go, fine, plan B. have a smoke outside.

Call me crazy, but I kept picturing in my head me standing outside a bar with a bunch of drunk smokers. And I wanted to experience this. Am I relapsing? The relapse always happens in your mind long before the first drink, so is this it? I don't know.

But outside the bar I'm talking to people both sober and not so sober and I'm having a great time. About an hour after arriving I'm actually comfortable being around the booze. Granted it helps that this place markets itself as a trendy beer and pizza place, since I'm a liquor and wine girl the temptation isn't blatantly displayed. I even broached that I'm a recovering alcoholic, this being San Diego fully of super friendly people, I was actually well received.

I felt totally empowered in my sobriety to think that I can survive the social scene and not be awkward about my "handicap" with alcohol.  The only dark lining around this bright cloud is the fact that I will not always have the will power to resist. Not every day can I make the right decision to not drink. My celebration only reinforces my need stay in the program for the rest of my life. (I sound like some brainwashed freak I know)

That and the fact that with out booze I'm still an interesting person. I even managed to find another writer in all this. I hope to get together and do the whole writer thing, I'm really excited.

I'm going to go all Ka-Bar (Katie a good friend) and say that Friday night was a WIN. FACT!!!

Friday, February 3, 2012

Lost in AA

Tonight I decided to forgo the hot lines and went looking for a new AA meeting.  I got on the website and searched out one Downtown. There is one closer to my home but I went last week and the Secretary gave me the heebegeebees. But in a pinch I'm always welcome as is the way in AA.  I really wanted to go tonight even though I promised I'd be on the phones all afternoon into the night.

I took Chewy out for a really long walk this afternoon in preps for leaving him home alone. Got back just in time to run late. Never the less, with directions save to my smart phone I trotted off to the bus stop.

In an uncharacteristic moment of zen, two #10s pass by. Normally you'll see two 7s followed by one 10 bus. This does not bode well for Ms. Townes. The meeting starts at 6:30, it's 5:45 already and I have to change buses once. Google said the trip will take 53 minutes, yep, no bueno.

Because I know the first leg of my trip will take a while I break out my Ipod and read some book I have saved on it. Some preggo heroine is being attacked by some angry magical being. For this heroine, it's all in a days work. No worries. Yeah for her, for me I just missed my stop.

On foot I decided to consult my smart phone again to make sure I'm at least close. Some how I decided I was and began huffing it in the wrong direction. Backtracking to the correct street I'm now wondering why I can't find the building. Well because I'm on the right street, which is good, but ten-twelve blocks away, which is not good.

 It's now 6:20, I'm just going to crash the party late. I managed to get some good news from a hostess at a place called Ravioli's. They said that I am about a brisk 14 minute walk away from the street I want. By 6:40, I'm so close I can almost smell the bad coffee, but I have to pee so bad I need to stop.

Hindsight is always the first thing on my mind, I should have asked to use the facilities at Ravioli's. I'm sure they would have let me. The place was a little out of the way from the center of Downtown SD. Repeat business you know... Albertson's appears out of nowhere. You gotta love supermarkets and their non public bathrooms, that all the public uses. The good news is it's only a block over from where the meeting SHOULD be. The bad news is that it's now 6:55. I might as well give up the ghost.

Well it is a supermarket so I'll pick up a few things.

On the way to the nearest bus going back towards Downtown center, I actually see this place. It's a nice one, I'm really sad that I missed it. I don't think the coffee would have smelled bad either. I mean I can't drink that stuff but I can enjoy the smell. There's a few people standing outside the place when I pass by. The meeting has been over for at least ten minutes but I'm afraid (there's that word again) to approach them. Seriously it's AA I can admit that I'm a member, that's one thing, but to walk up to a random stranger and say "hey did the AA meeting just let out," is another.

I sort of feel like I'm violating their anonymity, by asking them so I walk by, continuing to scope the place out as much at I can before I head back home. Hindsight again says I should have toughed out the creepy secretary and went to the closer meeting. It not only started later so I would have made it. I would have gotten home in enough time to actually get on the phone tonight.

But I'm not done. Determined to get my AA on for the night, I decided to log on to the open recovery chat. Where I am immediately harassed by someone one for saying I need a new sponsor. Not to insult my sponsor but she and I have not talked in a very long time. I said this much and got my ass chewed for saying I need more guidance.

Someways I can see how I may have provoked her. Other ways I'm not at fault. I've maintained my sobriety for almost six months. I'm proud of that, I take offense to some random person who admits that they drank tonight yelling at me for wanting to fire my sponsor. One I'm not firing her. Two the last thing she said to me was good information so there's no need to fire her. The point I made and this "person" seemed to miss was that I need more guidance. I'm not going to sink to her level though. I told her I forgave her for trying to irritate me, and proceeded to ignore her. She eventually left the chat.

Which brings me to this: Why argue with people you don't know? Why take so much pleasure in causing someone else discomfort. What does one gain?

My Alkie brian wants to dismiss her just because she'd been drinking. Thus I get to say "ha I'm better than you," but the real problem is not two alkies arguing. The real problem is two people who have no ties trading insults over the internet.

I've got a picture for that ...
The whole AA experience tonight was ruined because of piss poor internet protocol.  I truly needed to make a meeting today. I lost my temper with Chewy. I yelled at him and the poor guy cowered. I've been frustrated over not making enough money lately, and I haven't been able to write, and I missed class on Wednesday.

I was/am on my own last nerve. When I get like this I need to reach out. AA is a ready support system, even if you don't always get what you want. 99.9% of the time you'll get what you need.

So the plan after fighting the VA tomorrow part 3, I shall find the nearest AA meeting and get my fellowship on.

Tonight though I'll pray for Serenity.