The Strangest Thing. How I Accidentally Became A Small Business Owner.

For months I've been avoiding my true talent, which is writing, in pursuit of more instant gratification. Retail. Yes, I said that, retail. I'm not talking retail therapy, though that has happened on occasion, I'm talking about small business. The elaborateness of my procrastination is shocking sometimes. I found myself building an Etsy shop and started selling handmade jewelry; all in an effort to not write.

I can't say that I'm good at it, I've only had four sales. I'm probably what you would call run of the mill at it. I'm selling my stuff at run of the mill prices, hoping some other kind of mill person would "please buy my stuff." It's pathetic. I should be ashamed of myself.

I threw myself into it whole-heartedly. Before that, jewelry making, there was the paint phase. It was at least satisfying. I had a great muse, space, "the final frontier." It was an endless source of inspiration. I stocked up on paints while I was exploring the artistic side of me. At least then I wasn't fooling myself. The motto back then was, "If I can't write, I can paint." I have some fairly decent works stacked up in a corner to show for it.

I became tho cliche of myself, "I'm on of those creative types..." I still feel that way. More and more I seem to want to just write. Unfortunately the demands of now being a student, artist, a natural witch, pet mom, and a small business owner, just give me more excuses to not sit at my computer and do just that. 

Even writing in this blog, seemed like the Everest of all tasks. What would I write? Would it make sense? Does anyone still read blogs? Where would I start? Can I proclaim to be a writer, if I haven't written anything in ages, almost a year? The crisis within is real, and I feel like I've been struggling to reconcile it in a coherent manner to the public. -- All seven of you.

I can say that I'm still a writer, only I've changed my platform. I've turned to Facebook of all place. Ugh, Facebook, the book of Face. The time suck that it is, the mental degradation of the planet, the reason I have less faith in humanity. I placed all my thoughts in long drawn out posts there, of all places. Of course now, if I want to resurrect this blog, I must sift through all the junk on there, to place my thoughts here. It's more of a Kilimanjaro, than an Everest, but still a mountain of a task.

Maybe I wanted more immediate gratification for my thoughts. Who really knows? I don't. I just wish I could write something of substance when it really counts. 

Friday Fictioneer Photo - The Long Weekend - It's not what you think.

I'm from the city and I love it. I'll admit that once in a while when I leave the city I get a little homesick for the noise. I don't miss the dirty air though. Or the rude people, or the street vendor food. I take that back I love street vendor food.

Copyright Douglas M Macllroy

The Long Weekend - 102 words

“What’s that smell?” Shayna gagged.

“It’s called, clean air.” Marissa inhaled deeply.  

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Sucks for you. You need to get out of the city more often.” Maybe taking Shayna to the farm was a bad idea.

“For what? Hills? Grass? The grass looks dead and there’s no cell reception.”

“But look a horse!” She pointed to the field, which was pretty brown.

“Oh wow, a stupid horse.” Sarcasm, not necessary right now.

“You’re blowing this.”

“Blow me.” 

“What’s it doing?” Marissa ignored her.

 “Ha, Ha, maybe it’s watering the grass.” This was going to be a long weekend.

Check out the rest of the Blog Hop over on Rochelle's WordPress Blog. Of feel free to lurk on the Facebook Page. Happy Reading

Friday Fictioneer - Untitled 2/14/2013

I'm at a loss for what to name this one. Coming in at 104 words I'm just going to say this. If we could do things with just a though, what wouldn't or shouldn't you do?

I have to hand it to the photographer David Stewart. I really like this picture. It...Speaks...to me.

Copyright David Stewart

“You know what would be super cool, is if the statue reached out and grabbed that little kid.” He whispered into her ear. She immediately looked back at the statue.  A family positioned their two little girls beneath the statue’s outstretched hand.

“Why would you say that. you know what will happen next.” She grabbed him and hastily left the square, hoping nothing would move. Shrill cries rang out behind them, but she kept them moving further away.

“What’s wrong with you? I told you my thoughts were dangerous.” She hissed.

“Can’t you stop it?”

“No, stupid. Once they’re live I can’t do anything.” 

The direct link to all the awesome creativity for this week's blog hop is right here !!!Boop!!! But I want you to check out Rochelle's (our lovely Friday Fictioneer Hostess with the mostess)and also go find the FaceBook Page as well.

Something's Coming: Friday Fictioneer

This week we get this unbelievably cool picture from Stacy Plowright and this time I'm not sure what to make of my story. You be the judge and don't forget to visit some others participating on this week's Friday Fictioneers.

Clouds in Toronto by Stacy Plowright

“Look outside for me. I can feel the air. Something is coming Martha.” 

“Oh don’t be silly Cheryl. If anything it’s just a storm.” Martha was tired, she’d been at work all day, she just wanted to relax. She did not want to be anyone’s eyes. Not even Cheryl’s.

“But I can feel it, Martha, something is coming.” Cheryl pleaded.

Martha huffed. She cracked and popped as she left the couch, achey bones dragging themselves to the window. 

“Oh my God, the clouds...” she gasped. They rolled in waves toward their home, heavy and dark.

“Martha? Mar-tha? MARTHA....”

For more of the Blog Hop of the Friday Fictioneers you can head over the Facebook and check out the page. On Twitter #FridayFictioners. Or you can go to Madison Woods for the rules and see a list of Fictioneer contributors and click on them at random. Happy Reading

Friday Fictioneer: The Living Mist

This week's Fictioneer Photo Prompt comes from Maggie Duncan. A member of e-Fiction and the woman who first introduced Friday Flash Fiction to me.

This picture brings back the Tia we all know and love. No sugary sweet love stories here. 

By Maggie Duncan

The Living Mist

It rolled in last week covering the shores, then it made its way past the buildings that pretended to be the port. By the time it covered the fields, forests and meadows, the country was in full scale panic. It circled the city and all the land around it, every mossy covered rock and stream.

The mist thickened just like the little girl asked. She was such a sweet girl and it would do anything to please her. She just wanted to get away from the mean people in town. Pretty soon, the mist would take it all away. 

For more of the Blog Hop of the Friday Fictioneers you can head over the Facebook and check out the page. On Twitter #FridayFictioners. Or you can go to Madison Woods for the rules and see a list of Fictioneer contributors and click on them at random. Happy Reading

The New Craze: Dog Shaming

Thanks to my friend on Facebook (my go to girl for all things dating like the Lame Gazelle thing or the Masochist Tango) I've been initiated into the viral world of Dog Shaming.

What is Dog Shaming? Well Like breading your cat it's basically where you subject your pet some thing mildly humiliating and then send it all over the world just because it's funny. Does that clarify? No? Well how about I attache this article and then you can take it from here.

Still not getting it? Okay how about this picture?

Googled. Check out the blog.

Or how about...

So I guess this started on Tumblr some how and everyone + their mom jumped on board. Yahoo even picked up on the trend and did something on it a few days ago.

The Main question is do you think the dog feels shame for what it did? Of course not. You know why, because the human that loves it took a freaking picture.

How many dogs get their picture taken when they are being punished? Not mine. Most dogs I know are photographed when they do something heinously awesome like wag their tail. It's not effective, unless you call millions of dog lovers getting a good laugh, effective.

So of course my house guest and I decided in a moment of shear boredom to Shame Chewy. He's not that bright though so he's got no clue what's going on when the camera flashes. Heck he even tried to eat the card we made. But never the less, we shamed him. 

For your viewing pleasure, Chewy the shamed.

 No shame since he's  still licking my thigh.

 Barks every time I get a package

Actually he chews on dirty socks too. Anything thats remotely used. Gross man, just gross.

So do you feel like you've been let out of the loop? Do you have a dog that's misbehaving? Maybe you just like sharing slightly embarrassing pictures of your four legged friend with people you don't know. Who cares, join the fun.

Friday Fictioneer: The Dragon Fly and the Princess

This Friday brings the return of the Fictioneers to this blog and boy does Ms. Woods want to test me. This week we have a little girl and her father. I hope everyone thinks back to when little kids make too much sense and get a chuckle out what this little Pumpkin has to say.

The Dragon Fly and the Princess:

"Daddy I want it."

"Why do you want it cupcake?" The Dragon Fly perched on a rock waiting for the answer. 

"Because it's pretty. And, and, you said princesses should have pretty things."

"Yes Pumpkin, but what if it already belongs to another princess? Won't that make her sad?" 

The Dragon Fly released a breathe. What the father said made sense even if there were no other princesses.

The little girl thought. 

"There are no other princesses Daddy, if there is, she's invading." The King realized his error. 

"Yes Pumpkin, there aren't any princesses."

"If there is Daddy, you have to kill her." The Princess smiled brightly. "I want it Daddy."

You can check out Madison Woods new web page for more Friday Fictioneers, or on Facebook or follow us on Twitter #FridayFictioneers. Enjoy the Blog Hop.  

Dating or more accurately not dating.

Neither RFKAO or myself are ready to date anyone. I must say though he might be closer to finding love before I do. I say this because he is at least truly open to the idea of finding someone.


But this blog is not about ability to love someone, this blog is all about ME. Yep ME ME ME ME


ME.


We remember PNNU aka Stage Five Clinger aka Mr. Unflushable? Well thanks to him and possibly the man before that. I have pretty much sworn off committment.  So going into this next encounter with a new person I gave a disclaimer: I want no sort of relationship. I want friends, people I can hang out with and add to the group. Females don't get this disclaimer because well I haven't had to need to use it on them.


Enter Sgt. Silly Pants. Came to the house on Sunday, roomy and I weren't planning on going out. We had ice cream and was really planning on watch Game of Thrones. What's one more person? Well the one more person came there was no watching of Game of Throne. There was how ever something vaguely similar to a first date where he told me about his family his first wife his two kids and some other stuff that really has no bearing on me.


RFKAO jumped on the fact that he was a straight Marine and that he liked killing zombies. (A fascination I will NEVER understand)


Came the next few days I get two things:  booty call text. Not that I'm against them, just not at 2 AM. A few days after that I get: I miss you.


Gasp!!! Do we have to go there? Yes says Sgt. Silly Pants, because he does. Ms. Townes proceeds to nip that in the bud. Well Silly Pants is not having any part of that. He not only wants a valid reason, he also demands closure.

Closure for what? A friend of mine  who give great advice, and I must say one of my best readers, got together on facebook to discuss it.


Lame Gazelles is now officially a term thanks to Sgt. Silly Pants. And honestly if I could write this crap and sell it I would.


I think I'm going to swear off dating for a while.


Of course after about two days of this I'm registering for OKcupid.com. Why do this? Well I have no idea. It is not at all like I don't have a care in the world right?


The thread shown here actually goes on for quite a bit and ends with us getting a good laugh out of it. But I've come to the conclusion that I need to change me. Otherwise I'll just keep attracting the same man.


So is this the end of Sgt. Silly Pants? Yes, unless he drunk texts me later on...

Wow I'm glad I have some kind of support network. Because I think I'd pull my hair out.


Some times I wonder if I'm ever going to find someone that can exist by themselves...

Friday Fiction Photo Prompt/ The Bean Counter

Here's the Prompt this week for Friday Fictioneers. Yes, yes it's Thursday and I'm sure I'm slacking this week. Work has been a beast this and RFKAO has a new job that's disturbing my routine. I've gotten so used to him being around that I'm pretty much bummed out when he's gone.


If I wasn't such a commitment phobe I think I'd go out and find a man to take up my time. Instead I'll just get used to this new thing and do what I do best. As soon as I figure out what that is...

Tha'ss puurddy...




And now on to the Bean Counter:


Last Bean Counter tally: 62 Not very promising.


That I missed a week of the Bean Counter: -20


Donna Summer dies at 63 of cancer: - 50


RFKAO has no idea who that is: -40


Adam from the Beastie Boys also passed away: -35


RFKAO once again didn't know who that was: -25


The rent got paid: +100


Chewy hates his new food so much that he's not eating it: -25


We have food we can substitute so he's not starving: +15


Unpacked the last box from two moves, Japan to states, then from tiny place to this one: +45


Met a guy named Richard on my walk the other day who has three dogs and wants to plan play dates with Chewy. Richard's Pit Bull is theee sweetest thing on four legs, as long as you let him chew on his ball: +12


RFKAO listened to me have a conversation with my brother where my Boston accent  came out so thick he almost couldn't understand it: -10


RFKAO started a game of Punch Buggy and I won by two: +21


My GI Bill paperwork was approved so I'm going to school in the fall: +41


Since the paper work is approved I have to make a trip over to the college to start my registration: -19 no no like waiting in line.


Ran out of meds again, and now I see things that aren't there: -67


I'm not freaking out over the things that aren't there, I just know that there not there: +11 hey what ever works.


We almost died on the 805 over the weekend because noon time drivers are insane: - 41 messes with my anxiety.

Sang I Will Survive at Karaoke on Sunday with a soar throat and still did a fabulous job: +50


Thanks to over paying the gas and electric bill last month the bill this month is $-1.00: +10


RFKAO randomly tells straight guys I'm single I'm not sure if that is a bad or a good thing: +/-0


Home girl in Japan not only gave birth to an unbelievably beautiful little girl, but she actually found time to buy me some Dydo Juice while she was at it. What a super mom she'll be: +35




This Bean Counter tally: 69. 69! Meh, it could be worse.




Stay tuned for the Flash Fiction shortie coming first thing in the morning. JOin in the blog hop over on the new Facebook page. Follow us on Twitter #FridayFictioneers and to get the rules check out the blog over at Madison Woods' page.

Friday Flash Fiction: Birthing

Flash Fiction was a beast this week only because I came up with not one but three stories. So here's what I'm going to do: Birthing is the story I'll officially submit for this week. Then on Saturday I'll submit the other two stories.


You'll enjoy the others if only because I bring back characters in both of them. 


A Good Night For A Run - Grand Pa and "Boy" are back and as usual"Boy" is trying to remind Grand Pa once again she's a girl. Of course he's having no part of that.


What Are You? - Brings the return of my two jewel thieves Marta and Henry. Last Flash Fiction left off with Marta about to kill Henry. We'll find out how that worked out.


But enough of that, enjoy the story...


Birthing

Clouds had rolled in along with the first contraction earlier in the afternoon. It was well past midnight when Kelvin stepped off the veranda. He lit a cheroot and paced the drive.

His wife began cursing him hours ago. He cared nothing about what she said. Each invective burst from her dry lips between gasps of pain. He could no longer watch her and do nothing.

When the clouds finally broke he lifted his tear stricken face to mother moon, begging with all his heart to keep her safe. He could care less about the child. It was her, he needed.

The midwife exited the house shortly after the moon disappeared. She nodded slowly to Kelvin then returned to the dark house. He was a mask of granite until the door closed.

He turned to the woods and never looked back.

Check out the Friday Fictioneers on Facebook or #FridayFictioneers on Twitter, also feel free to blog hop starting with Madison Woods blog.