Feeling So Much Better Today.

Last night I had the mother of all anxiety attacks, and I just so happen to share that with the world. How do I feel today? A little better. Called mom, chatted on AA, even called one of the VA crisis lines. I took Chewy out for two walks.

Today started off with a call from Dad, who by the way, has no clue that I had an anxiety attack last night. I got a call from Mom, any minute my two brothers, two of my cousins, and an uncle will call. Later but not too much later I'll try to call one of my Aunts. So goes the Sunday routine. It's nice to have that re-established now that I'm back in the states.

But that's not why I'm blogging today. I have noticed over the last few months when I talk to people on the phone that I have several pet peeves. My biggest being proper speaker phone etiquette. So I have compiled a list for those who have been both the criminal and the victim in/of poor speaker phone manners.

No need to go up in arms about this, it's not directed at any one person. I've just made these simple guidelines, to remind people of how to properly use your speaker phones.


In other news, I've decided to take a break from Chapter 6 and focus on retooling the untitled freaky sea creature story. I have not contributed to it since the New year and I feel that I'm stunting myself by not writing at all. So The New God is tabled for at least another week.

That and I still haven't done my homework yet.

Introvert... Going Nuts

Sometimes I wonder if I try not to leave my house because I'm afraid to go out there? If somehow in all my travels I've just become a shut in- I can come up with any excuse to not leave my house. I can't go out with such and such because I want to drink with them and I can't. It's after sunset and I don't want to be outside after dark. I don't have any money. What if someone robs me while I'm gone?

With Chewy here now I have a great reason to not leave the house. He's not trained yet and I don't want him to freak out if I'm gone too long.

The big question is: When did I become so afraid?

I'm from a major city, I've traveled in and out the Navy, I'm a notorious wanderer in my family, I'm brave enough to write a book, and go to school, but if I have to leave my house for anything, I loose my nerve.

Seriously I actually want to cry about it. Over the years I've noticed more and more how reclusive I've become. I wonder if this is part of my depression? Am I just being lazy? I'm scared and I don't know why.

Maybe I ran out of meds and this is me normally?

Regardless, this is about half of what I felt the day I tried to kill myself. I'm more afraid than ever now that  I might get worse. I'm in a new city with no friends. If I never leave my home who will notice that I'm not there anymore?

Scary this being off the meds. My goals don't even motivate me like they did before. You know why chapter six is still a mess? Because I can't stay focused enough figure out what to do.

If you're reading this and you're freaking out, good. Cause' so am I.

I think I need to find some yoga or some type of meditation on Youtube. Maybe after I center my Chakras, I'll write something that doesn't raise every flag in the bag.

Something Quick because it's three am

So while I was working the lines this past week I came up with a little short story actually worth finishing. Here is the link.

I hope you don't mind that it's actually rather clean. A large step away from what I normally write, but hey  I hear diversifying is the way to go...

Happy reading,
Tia

How to build fear

If  the most dangerous person you know slinked up to you and just walked your path with you what would you do? How would you feel?

Malik, the love lorn fool, is at this very moment dealing with this situation. If I was Malik, I'd not worry, because I haven't done anything wrong. I might even engage her in conversation. I might even start with, Hey Camille, killed anyone lately? Camille being a trained assassin since birth, might actually reply with some off color humor. But A I'm not a love lorn fool, B I'm not Malik, C Malik had been a bad boy.

Outside of THE NEW GOD I've actually taken some time and developed Camille in character development, between her and her brother. In this part of her story she's fresh faced and new to the job her family has been training them to be. 

Before you get all, OMG, on me, the whole freaking family are all trained assassins. It's the family business. They are one of the most powerful families in what's left of the organized world. You ned protection, call them. You need someone offed, you call them. You have to understand that for her and her brother Nicky, this is normal.

Back to Malik who was off snooping where he wasn't supposed to. Malik has a few issues with women. Years in the future men will still have a problem with women. I don't believe that is something that will ever go away. One of them being his belief that no woman should be as "dangerous" as Camille. Another being that women should appreciate the value he brings, by just existing. My favorite is that, his love interest should not have ever been higher ranking than he. Malik my friend you got it bad.

All this brings me to how to blend that into two major conflicts within The New God. One how he handles Celine and her new relationship, and how the evil that everyone (Celine, Will, Malik, Camille, Petra, Stoddard, Davis, Verine'e, Logan, Randall, Winston and Harold The Boss) is fighting against, infiltrates the team.

Can you believe I'm stuck? Of course you can. Truly because I'm not sure how involved Camille should be in Malik's business. I'll have to ponder this while I go argue with VA.  

Just call me Oblivious

I like to lament on how much I can't find a date. I do this facetiously because I'm not really looking. Prime example: I'm walking through the courtyard at school headphones in and bopping to the beat of Gym Class Heroes. And did I notice the guys trying to get my attention? Yes. Did I stop or even smile at them? No. Know why? Well I do and it's simply because I'm uber self conscious  of myself. I'll think of every possible flaw and triple its importance just to avoid actually meeting someone. So like the coward I am I pretended not to see them.

Honestly I didn't see them until one dam near stepped out in front of me. And you know what I did? I swerved like every good Bostonian, head down as if making eye contact would insight violence. Captain Oblivious strikes again. How ever since I've been places where politeness is the norm, I did say excuse me. Head was still down though.

It occurred to me after I was sitting at the bus stop about three minutes later that I might have just missed an opportunity to meet someone new. I'll just put on this FAIL sticker. I have to remember two things here: 1 I'm supposed to be making an effort here. Remember the List? 2 I am new in town with no friends, just the dog.

By the way Chewy is doing awesome. Found food he'll eat, his eyes are clearing up, and I got some poopy pads so he can stop peeing all over my bathmat.

What's really going on here? Am I really that much of a coward? Well today I was, and I remember other occasions where I've done this. Do I feel like I'm not ready or do I just like being alone. I'm not waving the Team Single flag like I'm about to blast off at the speed of light. (Surrender now or prepare to fight...) Nor am I singing Independent at the top of my lungs.

What I really am is overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with the book, work on the phones, school, Chewy, the VA, AA and pretty much everything else that I need to tackle right away. They all demand my attention. And as lame an excuse as it is, I just don't think adding a guy to the list is going to help.

Lets face it, guys want to feel special, whether they want to admit it or not, they want some tiny level of devotion from every female they encounter. They don't even have to want to sleep with you, that's just how they are. If a guy even a causal guy feels like you're not paying him attention, he'll do one of four things: Talk to you to understand what's going on (best choice), Move one (not really a bad thing if you don't have time), Seek attention elsewhere (bad if you're in an intimate/romantic relationship), or Stick around and forcefully take your time away from something else (psycho bad).

I can talk all day about the whys and why nots about dating, but the real deal is simply this.
Balance and fear, if you can't balance you're life, you won't make it. If you're afraid of dating, you'll just not date.

Star Wars and Pink Eye

After a very, and I mean very haphazard weekend, I had to start school today. Chewy my love is an interesting individual. He pees on my floor, won't go number two, and only fully relaxes when he's on my lap.
Talk about co-dependence...

I suppose I got what I asked for in a dog who doesn't say much and just wants to be loved. Well that would be the good point.

So at first I was really okay with the fact that he humps everything. Now that I understand that he's trying to be the Alpha, I'm not too okay with it anymore. It appears that both Chewy and I need some training. He also is the most picky eater in the WORLD. Talk about a waste of dog food. First off he doesn't like the food, second he only likes the treats. Third, the vet said that the reason he doesn't eat it is because he seems to be allergic to it.

WHISKY TANGO FOXTROT!!!

My dog has allergies???

Ready for more bad news? No, neither was I. So the other day, well yesterday. I looked into his big brown eyes and noticed this crude floating across it. Nasty. Well I was going to wipe it off but I found out that Chewy does not like when you mess with his eyes. But that's not why I rushed my Lhasa Apso to the vet. No I took my free vet exam voucher to the nearest clinic and cashed in because he doesn't poop.

What does that mean, everyone, every THING poops. Not this guy and I was getting concerned. So like every new mamma I took my baby in. I figured while I was there I'd mention that crap in his eyes. Funny, that he's not going number two is supposedly normal. Yeah in what dimension? But she looked at his eyes and said something I'd never expected to hear from a vet.

Hey it looks Chewy may have caught a little case of Conjunctivitis. My slow brain runs through all the nicknames for nasties that I know and come up with PINK EYE. eeewwwww nasty Chewy, just Nasty.

So he gets his drops which I have to administer every night, a pill for his monthly flea treatment, and a recommendation to change his food, immediately. They run some blood work on him and tell me they'll call me in the morning. I am really not sure what I should do now. Should I take him back to the Shelter? Would I be a bad mamma if I did.

I really wanted a companion. He's turning out to be a little more than I can handle right now. But when he lays in my arms just content to be with me, I wonder if I am wrong? Confuzzled Face!

Class started today and let me tell you it was a doozy. Political Science is not something for the flighty. Oh no, this class demands that you actually USE that thing in your head. Seriously. It's odd, but for the last six years, I've been told to memorize information to the point where I can regurgitate it in my sleep. Now I'm being told to not only understand the information I'm given, I'm know supposed to form my OWN opinion about it. Just call me Lamb chops, BHAHHHHH.

Switching from mindless automaton to free thinker on serious matters this morning before I'd had any Starbucks was the rudest possible awakening of my day. Well unless you count Chewy having Pink Eye. Now that I'm in regular society I have to remember that: 1 not to operate at the level of disrespect I'm accustomed to. And 2 I'm not a sheep and I must think for myself in the area of academics. Clearly I've been thinking on my own for most my life. Just going from being given the answers to finding and understanding the answers is truly an experience.

The first lecture was about Democracies, Anarchys, Aristocracies, and a bunch of other cracies that are or have been at work around the world. The Professor (I didn't even get the guys name) began with the basics set forth by Athenians like 600 BC. Breaking it down as he moved forward to this era.

None of which makes any sense to me until it clicked. The word Republic! A bunch of qualified people charged with the job of making decisions on the people's behalf. Sound familiar, it should that's how this country is supposed to run. So when Professor begins talking about how the Republics of history failed, I get a random picture of Chancellor Palpatine  accepting the roll as ruler for a frighted Senate in Star Wars.

The more I start thinking of how the Republic failed itself in Star Wars, everything starts clicking into place. At least I can now understand what the hell is going on in class. So now that I'm once again on track I am confident I'll at least pass the class with a better understanding of this Nation State. May the Force be with me.

Truly though, as I have said before, the world I make up seem infinitely cooler.

Chewy

I decided before I moved to San Diego that I was going to get a dog. Today after a grueling trek all over San Diego I fell in love with Chewy. A six year old dustmop. Looks like Chewbacca except gray. You know why I like this dog? He reminds me of the dog from the first Sex and the City movie. You the little Yorkie that humps everything.

Chewy

So Chewy is a four legged pervert. Works out great since I'm a pervert too!!! Has a problem with mounting things. Tried to hump my leg until I told him to chill. Then, Chewy actually climbed into my lap. They weren't kidding about that lap dog thing.

So when the folks at the San Diego Humane Society so patiently walked me through every pen to meet every small dog they had, I saw something. Despite their popularity there seemed to be a large number of Chihuahuas. Personally I can't stand the little ankle biters, but  I thought people liked them.

I'm not going to advocate for them, because I hate them, I am going to say that even they need love too. You'd think since Gidget, the Taco Bell dog was so famous, everyone would want one... Lets not forget Legally Blonde and her dog Bruno, or that silly Chihuahua movie. Who knows.

Anyway Chewy is a Lhasa Apso and something else. He was found somewhere near Oceanside (I haven't been there yet, so don't ask) in serious danger of dying. He was severely underweight covered in fleas and his coat had matted all over his body. His lucky to be alive. Especially lucky to have me because they named him Cookie. That's a terrible name for a male dog.

Nothing else is going on in Tia world today other than I got to pick up my school books. I think I'm going to drop one of my classes. It seems to me that if I need the same book for two classes I might be taking the same class twice. No Bueno. Well I don't want that so I guess I should check into that on Monday. May be I'll do that after my Political Science class... I can tell this will be the challenge class. Probably a good thing I'm getting out the way now, before I have a full time schedule in the Fall.

The Spice Girls...

I liked the Spice Girls, I was all about them when they came out. I even had a pair of moon shoes, because they looked cool on Baby Spice. Those things weighed a ton but I wore them proudly. I had their  albums, and watched their movie, I even saw a few of their concerts on TV. I was totally all about them.

I loved the Spice Girls. That was until I saw a poster of them taped to the ceiling in my first real boyfriend's bedroom. It was right above his bed. At first I was cool about it, well I like them too, but then as I spent nights over there, I started to resent them.

I didn't have the dirty mind that I do now, so I wasn't able to make smarmy jokes back then. I was Jealous of them. When I wasn't there with him (Let's call him Tito, that's as close as I can get without telling on him) they were watching him. When I was there with him, they were watching us.

Nights when he would fall immediately asleep instead of talking to me, I'd stare at them. Because I was and in some ways still a little insecure, I wondered who else get to stare at them. I wasn't feeling my girl power during those moments.

Eventually I stopped going over there to spend the night. Slowly but surely I just stopped going to see him all together. A few years later I happened to see him in town. My now 22 year old self was way more worldly that my 17 year old self so seeing him was just another day. After the exchange of pleasantries, and him giving me a ride to the nearest train station we agreed to a meal.

Dinner with an old flame is always interesting. You get to compare who's doing better since you broke up. Or you get to examine why you two broke in the first place. Or you can do what I did and asked the $20,000 question: So do you still have the Spice Girls taped to your ceiling?

He says, no, then he says something that made me feel so special. "I took them down after I realized you weren't coming back. They reminded me too much of you." My then 22 year old self said aawwww, so sweet. My now 32 year old self just rolls my eyes and shakes my head. I can't believe I fell for that.

He missed me is what he said then. If he was to say that to me now, I'd feel a little insulted. If he really  missed me the poster should have stayed up. As dinner progressed he told me how I broke his heart and that he still had my picture on his mirror. I realized that he still loved me. My confidence shot through the roof. The only problem was I wasn't sure what love was.  I did know I never felt anything close to it for him. Not in 1997 or in 2001 or in 2004 when I once again saw him in town.

For Boston being so small (so says New York) it's amazing how one could never see someone for years and still be a few blocks apart. It's easy to get lost in it, lost in your own life. I began to wonder if I have ever allowed myself to love. Clearly he held a torch burning for me for a while, but was it ever mutual? Things with Tito came to a screeching halt the last time we talked. I finally admitted that I never loved him. That's not something anyone wants to hear. I don't recommend saying it over the phone.

On Facebook today a guy mentioned the Spice Girls, which brought me to today's blog topic. I'm not going to say that they ruined my first relationship, because they didn't. I'm just going to say that  I wasn't feeling them as much I used to.

Waiting for the Internet

I was supposed to have my Internet installed on Sunday. Last time I had to deal with the American Cable company they didn't work on Sunday. But I guess times are a changing.

After talking to several flamboyantly gay men on the phone, I was: A)Pretty sure my name was Honey and B) Utterly confused about what day these people were coming to do the install.

Picture Ms. Townes sitting in her sinfully tiny apartment contemplating breakfast, cereal or cereal, when there is a knock on the door. Is it Powdered Toast Man? No, it's Brian from the cable company.

Of course like every closet slob, I'm going to scramble to pick up all my random stuff scattered around the place (IE. the random bra in the kitchen).  I let Brian in and he immediately begins trying to sell me stuff.  Ha Ha I have my own equipment, beat that! After some serious haggling, and a cheerfully bad trade of sea stories (another freakin Sailor), my Internet was installed.

So stoked am I that I completely forget the list of crap I HAD planned for today. Instead I plopped myself in front of Mac and surfed the net. Forget the fact that school starts next week and I still haven't purchased my books. Or the fact that I still need to make my way to the VA. Or the fact that I have to return another modem  back to Radio Shack. No, nope, none of that matters. I have service.

Totally, I have my priorities here.

Not a complete waste of a day though. While I was trolling through all that is the World Wide Web, I got myself off the wait list and into a seat for a second class. Joy, Happy Face!!! I got moved up the list on the other wait listed class from 5 to #3. I'm hoping someone drops the class so I can just get it out the way. Who wants to take Poly Sci anyway. Sounds terribly boring, and not humorous. I mean the only time I need to know about how politics applies to me is during the election year. Oh HAHAHA it is the election year.

*******

Yesterday instead of posting something lengthy and clever I threw up the link to the website I have for the books. I managed to get up The New God's Chapter 4, then six hours later and with even less fanfare, I put up chapter 5.

Would you like to know how I did that? No? Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. Remember Kill Bill Vol. I + II? No? Where are you people coming from? Do you not have TV? Anyway here for your education. You know how Kill Bill was supposed to be one extremely long movie then he cut it in half and made two almost completely different films? Talk about a run on sentence... Yeah well that's what happened to chapters 4 and 5 in The New God. Chapter four was becoming a marathon in my patience, best thing I could have done was either scratch it all together or make another chapter. Plan B won.

In Chapter four, Celine and Will have a late lunch and discuss how the spell in Chapter 3 failed. He tells Celine to meet him out in a field at 8 that night. There they will try the spell again with "provisions" they will need to complete it. She later goes to the team truck to process some updated information about the trip they are going on, when Verine'e (VEER-UH-NEE) drops by.

Someone on eFiction called Verine'e little miss perfect. Sounded a little antagonistic towards her as well. Good I like that I was able to bring out that particular feeling. You're not supposed to trust Verine'e. She is one of those people who fall into the unknown variable category.

Verine'e through a method I will not say disarms Celine to tell her about the cargo, she's transporting. This cargo by the way is like super hush hush, so how Verine'e found out about it is a mystery. Here you get a little back history about the world I'm creating. I'm going to throw a big word out here people: Dystopia, think opposite Utopia. I'm not, at this point in the story, ready to explain how the world came to this but, here I give a boarder view of the whole canvas. If that makes any sense I'm feeling a bit leery on that sentence...

Chapter 5 begins with Celine driving a jeep alone in the desert. She is out looking for Will. She is accosted by a starving mountain lion.  When she barely survives the attack she does manage to find Will, and another member of the team who is then sent off to get help. With the other guy no longer present Will, who knows exactly what to do to help her heal, does exactly that.

When Celine is rejuvenated, she has so much power flowing through her she can't control it. Poor Celine never felt so good in her life, she takes advantage of the moment and seduces Will, whom she'd been secretly (cough* cough* everyone knows*) crushing on for years. Will can't resist. Goremance I'm telling you...

That's the recap of what yesterday brought. Take a look at the website click on The New God Ch.1 the other four chapters are at the bottom of that first sub page.  Happy Reading, I think I might actually go food shopping now.

Chapter 4 of the New God

Chapter 4 is up on the website: click here

Check back later for an actual entry in the Dog Log.

Back at Sea/Tac

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. As I've been camped out in the Seattle/Tacoma International Airport since 11 AM and its 4:30 isn't really that bad. That I've been discharged since 8:30 this morning is another story.

Funny thing I had a craving today. I really truly wanted a drink. I almost rationalized that I should have a drink. It seemed like such a good idea. In fact it still seems like a good idea. I just don't want to take that chance. I find myself even talking to myself about just having a drink.
Seriously no one would know that I drank today. Because I'll just have one. Since I haven't overindulged since my 31st birthday, I think I can manage one drink.

Personally I think it's harder to accept that I have a drinking problem if I really have three drinks a night. That's all I needed. So some days like today when I almost fooled myself into having one are really hard to fight. What scares me is that they will offer me something on the plane and I'll take it. I know nothing will come of it. Because I've been very responsible, and successful at masking this problem. But I don't believe that I really want to ruin everything I've put into recovery since August 22, 2011.  It's not worth it.

Speaking of drunk people, So I'm begging the boarding agent to let me on an earlier flight. Right next to me at the next counter, this creepy guy just falls over. I mean not a sound he just drops. The chick who was checking him in for the flight, doesn't bat an eye. Not only does she not bat an eye, but then says very calmly, "He's alright, if someone could find a doctor, he'll be alright." (OMG I heard someone really say Is there a Doctor in the house? I thought they only said that in movies.) Why Sea/Tac must you be so dramatic?

The guy who wreaked by the way. Attempted to get up a few times, succeeding in slamming his head into the back of the counter. It was not pretty, rather undignified really.  Then I saw the crack in his ass, and I almost gagged. Why Sea/Tac, just why?

A doctor actually does come to the rescue! This ought to be on a sitcom somewhere. He's walks right past drunk and sexy and asks the boarding agent what's going on. Dude you just walk past it...

And as we speak everyone is taking pictures of the sunset. I love sunsets too but I've seen better. So I had to ask: "Is it because sunsets are so uncommon that everyone's taking pictures?" To me having been in Washington State for the past week, where for three of those six days I saw no sun, it's a rational question. Why did the woman look at me crazy?

Back to drunk and sexy, a few guys kindly get him to a seat, where he starts whining about his mother. Oh My Goodness. I can't make this shit up. No wonder I write fiction, the reality is a mess. When the paramedics and the police come, he vehemently denies that there's a problem. Lucky me, I got more FAIL stickers. Dude we can smell you...

Needless to say all the excitement and frustration (cause I never got on the earlier flight) coupled with extreme exhaustion (stayed up packing and repacking until 2am) triggers my craving. There are some moments in life that just should be experienced slightly intoxicated. This might have been one of them.

UUUUmmmmm SOOO Gooood, yeah

I'm on the brink of something people. The last days of the Navy are coming and coming fast. I've almost secured the apartment I want in San Diego, I'm pretty sure I'll get there just in time to start school this semester and I just finished Chapter 4. Life could not possibly get better.

Oh yes it can...

What's missing from this idyllic situation is a job. So I took a little time out of life to look and I have found it people. You may now call me Girl 6. My name is Lovely, Lovely Number 6. You guessed it, I have joined the many mom's of America who moonlight as phone sex operators.

Truth be told I've done this before. Like ten years ago when I lived in Florida. It was a great job except for the fact that I never left my house. I think that was such an eye opener for me, not the never leaving my house, no I'm talking about learning other people's kink.

I'm not name calling on this one but I want to. Only out of respect for the industry will I not poke fun. However, comma, I will say that people are truly special in their own unique way. Once you figure that out you sort of forget that on the opposite end of the call is someone in some state of undress.

How do you figure that out? Well in this business, the customer will tell you, in freakishly vivid detail. This isn't a people get a dog moment though. Most of the folks that call these lines are in secure relationships. To them this is safer than going out and actually straying from the bond they have with their significant others.

Like every person, a fantasy is just as unique. The goal of a phone sex operator, is to give voice to that fantasy while simultaneously keeping the caller engaged for as long as possible. It's actually harder than you think. Especially of the caller was already half-cocked before he dialed. Half-cocked, get it, t-hee hee hee.

Seriously though, I will say that some of my best callers were the ones that just want to talk. Something about telling a complete stranger everything on your mind without regret. It's like going to confession without saying the ten Hail Mary's after. That and it's not like you can really tell anyone what they said. No one would believe you.

I like talkers, if they don't have some deep dark confession, they tend to actually want to please you. They know you're at work, but they still insist on making you enjoy the moment. I find that a huge turn on. Call me weird but it's the truth. Two of the most sexiest things in the world to me are: men who want your pleasure and men who show affection to babies in public.

DISCLAIMER: I hate kids. I just like watching men being tender. It's sooo, sooo incredibly arousing to see a big strong male being gentle and openly loving to little one....

Back on topic. So the plan is to incorporate some form of income into the equation but not end up sacrificing too much of my time. I give myself 25 hours a week and 25 hours only. I could knock that out in three days. I feel like such a stripper. I'm just doing this to put myself through college.

So the next time your pervy cousin tells you he's met this super hot chick with some exotic name, chances are, he's talking about me.

Like riding a bike

When I was skinny I rode a bike everywhere. There is a bike path along the South West Corridor that leads you pretty much all the way to City Hall. I have rode that path hundreds of times.

After boot camp I got stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. I was not so skinny by then and purchased a bike to keep the weight down. There wasn't something as scenic as the South West Corridor but it was still a nice ride. I even had a bell for it.

When I moved over seas I took my bike with me, intending to keep to my pedaling ways. It's Japan, everyone rides a bike. Did I? No. As my bike came out of it's shipping container, I realized that I lived too far to commute to work. That and I was terrified that I'd bike on the wrong side of the road and get hurt.

Which leads me to the current day where I am once again on a bike happily commuting to and from the daily Musters during my final check out. The only problem, aside from not having working breaks this afternoon, my fat ass. Seriously my badunka-dunk needs it's own zip code.

No make over is complete without some overhaul on the diet. This means no more Chocolate covered cashews. I'm allergic to the caffeine anyway. And lay off the soda.

I know exactly what needs to be done to get my body in shape, smaller meals, regular meal schedules, exercise, and vitamins. Since I don't drink anymore this should be easy.  And of course you guessed it, it's not.

Living Sober, a guide to sobriety says that you're body will demand some kind of supplemental satisfaction. The fat kid in me says YAY! SWEETS! Sweet! The book practically gives you permission to continue treating your body like ass. Lets rejoice in junk food!

Then later that night when I curl up with my lap top and full bag of Fun Sized Snickers. I won't think about the slow climb through the rolling hills of Bremerton Washington. I definitely won't be thinking about my heavy breathing eating that candy. Or that fact that I have to go up a size on jeans.

The next day when I am dying from over exertion on the aforementioned hill I know I WILL be thinking about that bag of Snickers. I have to wonder what possessed me to even buy them? The answer eludes me.

But I shall get up this hill, if only to just get up the dang hill. Maybe I should put a stack of free money in a box at the top. Or I should get something shiny and leave it there. It would be like Roller Derby in this beast yo.

What ever my motivation or your motivation it better continue. Remaking oneself is supposed to be permanent. What would be the point of all this work?

Speaking of work: Sandy-Jade over on wattpad designed this cover for The New God. I love it. What do you think?

 Actually I want to change a few things but other than that it's awesome. I think I want to change the tube to a tank.   Okay maybe I don't love it. But Sandy-Jade captured her face perfect. Now that Celine has a face I think a lot will come together for her as a character, or a real person. The original that she started with had some head gear to it.

I had some other one she sent me that struck my fancy. Below I'll post them as well.

Personally I'm just glad to have another reason to finish this book. My new life DOES depend on it.


If I had to have a back up cover it's be this one to my left. It expresses how Celine hides her true self and how the magic with-in her really is the one in control.

I do however like the simplicity of the one on the bottom. Simply you can't have good without evil type thing.

Creamy Collon

I can't sleep, that's normal since I've been living on the Eastern Hemisphere for a while. So since I can't sleep I've decided to update my collection of infamous Collon blog.

Yep, that's pretty much it.

The New Poll is down on the lower right. What would be your best day EVAH? I'd like to know.

30 Hours Later and Airport Rest Rooms

Folks I have arrived! I am in fact back on the shores of the United States. I should be like super uber over the moon, when really I'm just tired. I also seem to be in the midst of the hugest craving EVAH for rice. I must be homesick, get it, laugh out loud, home sick. Technically, being back in the country of my birth, I AM home.

I do in fact miss Japan already, not because it's the best rice in the world, but because I have grown some attachments that I didn't realize I had. My tattoo artist for one, the two who work out of La Vida Loca are truly some great people. My home of course, I'd spent months between times at sea making it just right only to pack it up and come back stateside. Of course the beach I lived up the hill from. It was the greatest place to look at on a windy day. Wind Surfers everywhere I loved it.

The dream is over and what better way to close out a chapter in one's life than to have a very very VERY awkward moment in a public restroom.

I just collected a multitude of luggage from international claims. Not a bathroom in sight for what seemed miles of supper slippery flooring.  When I finally get to the shuttle pick up station. I begged some other Sailor to watch my bag while I go relieve myself. I'm happy so I thought. No I start thinking about how long I've been in these clothes. Comfy as they are, they smell like airline food, jet fuel (I had a wing seat), baby poo, and three day old cookies. I have to get out of these clothes.

Back in to the ladies room again. While I'm changing into another set of sweats, a woman starts talking. At first I thought maybe she was talking to someone but then no one responded. She was clearly distressed by her tone. It became clear that she was on a phone. Why she was using it in the stall, is not my business.

Whom ever she was talking to was not very helpful and upset her even more. Apparently she had no intention of flying to Seattle. She did not understand how she got there and was also suffering from some leg injury. The only thing that came to mind was this woman was ill (in the head) and she has to have an emergency contact.

The lady went on to request to the person on the line to call the police to have them come get her. Well good on you lady for at least knowing your in a bad way. The rep on the phone (the turd) was not trying to do that. She explained to person unknown (PU from now on) that she'd been there since last night. She told PU that her leg was hurting which is why she never left.

What an odd place to plant yourself!!! But hey if you're hurt, you're hurt.  I'm obviously just being nosey, but I want to help. So when I come out my stall stinky clothes under my arm, I'm greeted my a TSA agent who just happened to be washing her hands. Homegirl had her music up so loud on her I-pod that she couldn't have heard what's going on in the last stall. ** You know it's always the last stall. Why the last stall why not the middle one or the first?-  Out goes the TSA agent completely oblivious. The Chunky Cow, I bet she couldn't chase a Twinkie if it ran right into her. (I wonder if this is what guys mean when women talk about other women?).

Poor lady is STILL arguing about police assistance with PU. Finally I just went looking for a different TSA agent. I told them that was a woman on her phone in the bathroom begging someone to call the police. Who do they get to go int here to check it out? You guessed it, Chunky Cow. Thighs rubbing in cheap polyester pants and still blasting I-pod. (That wasn't nice was it? My thighs rub too. Shame face!)


By the time my shuttle came they still had  not  moved this poor woman!

This is what I'm coming home too!!!
I don't have enough FAIL stickers on me to pin point how this situation was handled poorly.

This makes me want to call my parents. I think I'll buy them each one of those Identifier bracelets. My parent aren't feeble. God willing they never become feeble. Still, I'd have to live with some serious guilt moving to San Diego when they live back in Boston and they needed me.

Of course that's my co-dependent self speaking. I KNOW it's my duty to take care of my parents when they no longer can take care of themselves. The problem was that I've been attempting to do that my whole life.

So if they said "T I'm getting too sick I think I have to go into a home." What would I do? Am I a bad daughter for not offering to help? Or will I use it as an excuse to look like a saint while simultaneously never achieving my full potential???

8 Ways to get a date/Shaky hands

My hand shakes, call me paranoid but they never used to shake. I wonder what that means in the long run, other than ruling out a career as a world renown plastic surgeon. So I attribute this to one of my many problems. A) It could be a symptom of my ever present anxiety. B) I now have the shakes due to my recent commitment to sobriety. Or C) I have Parkinson's or some other shaking people's disease.

Maybe it's just the Meds…

And because everything on the Internet must be true, sure enough it's the meds. Good Job Watson, go pat yourself on the back.

Knowing this is not something that will bring the guys running to my door step, I tried to think of things that would.  Because I've been told everyday for the last 5 1/2 years have a plan, I made a list!!!!

Lists are cool!!! All the kids are doing it.

1. Smile- people who have actually spent some time with Ms. Townes will tell you that Ms.Townes does not smile. I have nothing against smiling, mind you, I just don't. This would make me more approachable.

2. Fake like I'm not from Boston, Ma. - I'm a Bostonian, no amount of world travel will change that. The only place natural Bostonian instincts are acceptable is Boston. We are a rude bunch, worse than New Yorkers. A little Southern Hospitality is needed here.

3. Never go outside with out some kind of make up on- (this was suggested by someone who actually wears make-up) My mother, you gotta love her does not get out her car unless she has on lipstick.  She has bad luck if she forgets. Call me crazy but I have seen this happen. For me I'll make this exception. Chapstick is make-up…COME ON!!!!!

4. Make eye contact- Don't stare, but don't pretend that you don't see anyone either. 

5. Be enthusiastic- You have a passion, express it. Mine is writing, old movies from the 80's, tattoos, beaches, playing volleyball, music… Get the point? 

6. Read the news- I know I am guilty for being completely oblivious  of what's going on in the world. Planet Tia may be a cool place to hang but the real world is where it's at.

7. Be open minded-  So what , homegirl, is wearing sandals from 2009 in the middle of winter. That's her thing. Leave her be. Try not to make a face, some one might confuse it for not smiling.

*****8. Stop pre-judging- Waving the guilty flag again. It's very easy to base an opinion just be the first impression. We are all taught to make a good first impression. The problem with wanting to make a first impression is that the first impression isn't always the best impression.

Some would say that my list is all cosmetic or superficial. And they would be right. But the great thing about this list is that it doesn't take much time to do, AND it leads to the more important things like actually getting a date.

Six Degrees of Bacon vs Gerbil

Today is my 32nd birthday, and what am I doing? Nothing. For the third day in row I have cozied up in Starbucks and typed to my hearts content. I should be working on my book. After such a great day of writing way into Chapter three of The New God, I should be itching to jump right in and finish chapter four, but I'm not. So, like usual whenever decide I need to blog, and I have nothing to talk about I turned to the Internet. I was going for my favorite stand by, dating. Who couldn't talk about dating? I can go for miles about dating. Once again I'm not the expert, It's like this for me: Those who can,do, those who can't, teach, and those who can't teach, critique. Take your pick I've been every one of them.

But that is not what I found on the Internet today. First I went to striaghtdope and saw what Cecil was up to, he delivers as usual. Something about kidney stealing, got me thinking about Urban Legends. Cecil, by the way, says kidney stealing does happen, just not in the States. So off on a trip through the murky underground of Urban Legends goeth I.

I landed on Snopes, home of Urban Legends and other absurdities. You'd think I'd just type in Urban-legends.com and get a whole list, wrong. The site exists, it's a film company. And there goes my tangent, back to Snopes. Overload alert, Ms.Townes only wanted one, now she's got, well, more than one, lets just say that. I need to pick one, which I can't, so I trolled through a few until one seemed Dog Log worthy.

First what makes an Urban Legend, legend? It's  modern day myth having little or nothing to do with the truth that has it origins in urban cities. The kicker is that the legend doesn't actually have to come from a city, says Wikipedia, it refers more the time in which the myth is originated. A long time favorite actually began circa 1930 (considered modern) is the myth about pet alligators living in city sewers, they don't. You get the point, right? Urban meaning having all the basics of modern technology, electricity, automobiles, air travel…. 

What I did NOT find on Snopes was the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. Pooh Sad Face! I just realized that I say that a lot. Sad Face! Which surprises me because that was the greatest urban legend EVAH when I was like 15. For that I had to go to Wikipedia. Snopes did have some other fun ones but the site over all is just not funny. I had to leave Snopes to a more serious crowd.

Because Cecil Adams is my idol, him, The Most Interesting Man In The World, and Egg Shen from Big Trouble in Little China. Go Six Demon Bag!!! Anyway, back on Straightdope I search urban legends. The top ten list alone gives me the chuckles. Sadly though number four on the list is true, gross but true. It IS VERY possible that your guts can get sucked out your body through a toilet. What's even worse was the poor girl that had this happen to her in a wading pool back in 2007. She later passed away the following year due to medical complications of transplants.

Not all Urban legends are true or gruesome. The one about the little boy who appears by a window in Three Men and a Baby, that one was ridiculously spread, by yours truly at many YMCA Dances, sixth grade I think. For this the crew at straight dope actually reference the aforementioned and dry ask un-buttered toast, Snopes. They save face by still making it funny, but Snopes provides the scene(s) in which you see the little boy.  Hint, it's not a boy. Pooh Sad Face!

Not  to bash Snopes for being well written and unflinchingly honest, it's just boring. Being one of the mindless millions that's attracted to all things shiny, I went back to my search engine of choice and typed in Urban Legends about celebrities. Nothing like some smut to brighten one's day. I should have stuck with dating.

About.com has 8 ULs about Princess Diana, which of none I will discuss. But there were hundreds more including the one about Richard Gere and the gerbil. I find that one HILARIOUS. Who would think of that, that's cruelty to animals. There were plenty more to choose from on About.com, and I could take the time to look through them all. Today however, is my birthday an I want to enjoy at least some of it. So I searched one more sight, hoping beyond hope that this one will close out this article, and Jackpot: it does not.

Starpulse, gives the run down on almost every celebrity legend I grew up believing to be true. It's not that I believed these things, its just I didn't care enough to see if they weren't. Paul Pfife from the Wonder Years is not Marilyn Manson (SHOCKER!). Michael Jackson never slept in a hyperbaric chamber (ARE YOU SURE?), and of course it mentioned Richard Gere again.

Boy Richard Gere really pissed off some poor woman. That's pretty vicious, the UL says that not only is he gay, he also puts small creatures in openings marked exit only. Richard Gere you need to go find that woman and apologize. 

That's it from this birthday girl. Next time I'm tapped for a topic I'll ask on Facebook first.  

Chapter Three is done

Hey I just finished chapter three of The New God. I'm posting it the rough unedited copy to the website and to google docs. If you want to check it out, email me and I'll send you the link so you can comment. I love my brain. If you want a chance to just read it click here

I excited because I left off the chapter like something was about to go down. Marvelous. Then I immediately went to work on Chapter four, and it promises to be steamy. I'm starting to wonder though, if my story is turning out to be like one of those stories that have fifty billion plots to it. I mean I'd like the story to be simple, it doesn't seem to want to go that way.

Last night I gave a little introduction to some of the races that inhabit the universe. Today I wove the story of the Jeng-nii, into the book. So far we have two interplanetary races, a major demon, a goddess, some serious obsession, a whole lot of sexual tension, one really good assassin and we haven't even left camp yet! I've got my work cut out for me.

It's keeping me sober though. Sober and sedintary. I'm not thinking about heading to a gym while the book is in the works, I can incorporate a walk or something into my day, right? Maybe when I settle in San Diego I will have a better idea of what to expect. I'm getting old you know. I need to pay attention to my health more.

Speaking of getting old. Tomorrow I turn 32. I am amazed that I made it this far. I remember New Years 1992 I sat in church with my mother and brother awaiting the new year. When the clock struck midnight I was like Yes!!! I'm going to make it to 12. I was so happy. Then two days later when I turned twelve. I can't remember a single thing about that day. It's a little sad to not have any recollection of a birthday. Sad Face!

Anyway tomorrow I should get a few emails and maybe a phone call from Mom wishing me a Happy Birthday. I think I'll take myself out for a steak in the evening. I really don't have anything planned. Just  going through my day waiting for my flight out of Japan. I know last year I poured myself a glass of wine and took a bath. The weekend however was when all the really fun stuff happened. Lets just say the hang over was epic. I doubt anything like that will happen this year, I know better.