Where Are Your Shoes?

Every day, I get emails from a group I'm a part of that helps me keep some priorities straight. When I am writing/online looking things up, I tend to think of nothing else and suddenly, it's 8pm or 10 o'clock and time to eat/watch tv/make the bed. I don't clean, or straighten like I should. So this site reminds me that I want to do these things and if they're not already done, I do them.

One of the reminders is for me to put on my shoes. The idea is that if you have on your shoes, you are more professional in your conversation, you are ready to leave at a moment's notice, you are prepared for the day.

I am not a shoe person. I wear flip-flops during the summer. Almost exclusively. If I have to walk around downtown, then I wear sneakers, but I absolutely hate doing so. There is no way I'm going to be sitting at home in shoes when my feet can be free. I felt bad for a while because the site has helped so much in other areas. My home is cleaner, I don't feel so overwhelmed when it comes to housework, and I am able to do what needs to be done and concentrate on my work when my housework is done. And even though my home is by no means spotless, my daily housework gets done. So, maybe I should put on the shoes so that my professionalism would know no bounds. Today, I realized something.

I don't need shoes to be more professional, to be ready to go. I can easily walk outside with no shoes on and feel fine, no shame in it. So what have I always used to signify that I am working? What do I do at the end of the day that is my signal that my work is done, I can relax? It has be taking off my bra.

Now, I hate bras almost as much as I hate shoes, but since the unfortunate growing incident of 2003, I have had to wear bras. Where once I didn't, now I do. So I have decided I am in professional mode when I get up and, along with all my other activities, I put on a bra before I start my day at the computer. When it it time to watch tv when my day is done, it's off with the bra. And really, it is my biggest reminder that I am working. When I worked outside of the home, being home was bra-less time. Not so much anymore. So when they ask where my shoes are for the day, I will make sure I have on my bra before I start making up people who live in a universe only I create.

Spam

I hate getting spam, but if you're going to send it to me, at least spell erexxxion correctly!

Wikipedia Laugh of the Day

I went to Wikipedia to look up the movie Frequency. When I got to the end, I found this gem:

A similar plot was used in the TV soap opera Port Charles in 2001, with Frank Scanlon (Jay Pickett) using a 1973 computer to warn a girl named "Cookie" not to sleep with Scott Baldwin (Kin Shriner) after a high school dance, but this prevents the birth of his present-day girlfriend, Dr. Karen Wexler (Marie Wilson). In typical soap opera fashion, however, the plot gets more convoluted, with the now-never-existing Karen being the only possible bone-marrow donor for her dying mother, and Frank seeks out a voodoo priest to send him back in time to keep Cookie from using the computer to talk to him in the future.

What? A real storyline for a soap opera? For serious?

Published Writer

That's me. Some of you may have missed my story on the Dempsey Hotel in the 11th Hour. That's okay. There's http://www.11thhouronline.com for you to go to so if I were to have other stories, especially feature stories, you could read it there. I think they just disable the stories when that two weeks is up. Sorry I didn't tell you guys about it (the both of you). I also have an advert piece in Macon Food for the coffee shop I used to work for.

Now that I'm published, pray that I begin to get paid for it! Or don't.

As ifner it was a Sprite

For some strange reason, I've always thought Ginger Ale was some generic, hybrid off shoot of the carbonated lemon-lime beverage, like Sprite or Sierra Mist - or maybe a weird mixture with 7up. I don't know how I came to this opinion, but the other day, I was proven dramatically wrong. Dramatically, because what was common knowledge to everyone else was about to kick me in the teeth. I poured myself a glass of Ginger Ale and proceeded to gulp it down like I would have it was Sprite. That Ginger Ale basically tried to kick my butt on the way down my throat. It was so strongly carbonated, so intense, I almost shouted and cried from the strength of it. The Honey, standing, watching me (probably laughing at my faces) was there as further proof when I said, "I didn't know it was that strong." "What'd you think it was like?" he asked. "Sprite," I said. He walked away, laughing and shaking his head. Now, two weeks later, I am able to enjoy my Ginger Ale on the same level as Sprite. While it has definitely weakened, it still has enough fizz to make me believe it's all good.

Good Lord!

Someone's getting serious about drinking and driving. Check out these new ads.

Courtesy of Kevin

Abstinence Education

I teach abstinence education, which is hard, not only because the kids I talk to don't really believe in it, but most of the adults don't either. The adults usually give me this look, like I'm too idealistic. They tell me that kids can't/won't control themselves, so it is our responsibility to teach them how to be safer. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one being realistic. I look at the things that are happening to people who start on this path and it makes me sad that other people aren't themselves educated. And if they do know the risks, it makes me sad that it's more than education that people need to protect themselves.

I always feel this white hot ball of anger rise up when people tell me that youth can't choose to be abstinent. I know that in the neighborhoods where I teach/speak, kids choosing abstinence is on the low side. People talk about education being the way out of the rise in STDs and teen pregnancy, yet the same people are continually recreating dangerous behaviour. They need more than education. They need role models. They need someone who will show them that its possible to go another route.

But it's more than a "someone shows up in your neighborhood" kind of thing. It's something that involves everyone. From artists who have a much larger influence on the population than they could imagine to the speakers who spend an hour of their lives once with 500 people, there needs to be some sort of recognition of the state of youth, why they believe they are safe and what happens once they realize they're not.

All of that to say that whenever I teach teenagers I have a hell of a time getting through to them and when I do, it's so rewarding. I had to teach a group of teens the other day, only the boys this time and I dreaded it. When tall the kids are together, they cannot be handled with kid gloves. Sometimes voice raising comes in handy. Well, this time, it's me in the room with a bunch of boys who are more than happy to talk about sex. I easily have their attention as I ask questions and they give the correct answer, although we venture into other areas, because the program I work with focuses on the things you want to do instead of sex. I'm not talking about taking a cold shower, I'm talking about the future goals you have so that sex is the last thought on your mind because you want to get your degree or a house or just your own car before you have to think about providing for a baby. We also teach those "safety" measure that somehow always find at least one chance to fail because they are not 100% effective; yes, they hear about them. We don't discriminate. We want to reduce and/or stop the ravages of disease. ARrrrrgh... digression.

Anyway, we get off topic and start talking about video games. One kid says, "Mrs. This Girl, you don' t look like the type to play video games." I'm not. He is absolutely correct. They all laughed when I described myself as a nerd. They didn't believe it because now i'm a babe, but I told them about my problems with the Sunshine world on Gamecube and this digression must have been God sent because they opened up to me in a way I'd never had a group of teen guys do. Now, I realize that without girls to try to impress, I got them alot more down to earth than they would ever be with girls present, but it was nice and refreshing. And when, at the end of the class, one of the guys was talking to me and *listening* to what I was saying, his face earnest, I felt more rewarded than I'd ever felt in this job.

This reminds me of my wedding pictures...

from A Socialite's Life

When we got our wedding pictures, I remember looking through them and wondering how in the world my husband could look so perfect while I looked like I was trying to regurgitate a cat. This heartens me. Apparently, being good looking doesn't make you any more camera ready than the rest of us. Unless you're Gabriel Aubry... or The Honey.

P.S. My husband, he looks better than this man.

P.P.S. Click on link to see a bigger picture.

Blogged with Flock

Summer's Here

It's hot as hell. I find myself wondering if it has always been this hot here. I know it has, yet I wonder why I block it, like some dark secret from my past. Somehow, I find myself in the heat and I feel like I'm there more than I've ever been. I try to think back to times when I was actually doing things in this heat, swimming or tennis with humidity so high, every adult is on stroke watch. I remember those time, but I can't feel those times.

We had another couple visit us this weekend. I thought grilling out would be the easiest thing. A few hotdogs, brats, hamburgers, enjoying the lake, that would be awesome. Of course, it would have been more awesome if we had done it two months ago instead of this past Saturday. Not only was it extremely hot (I heard 99 degrees, but my stars it had to be hotter than that), I was out in the heat all day. The best part was the conflagration that was my grill. Add the heat of the day and I think I tanned a shade darker in 10 minutes, right when my charcoal briquets started to get that nice ash around them. Yet my first, big girl "all by myself" grilling experience went well. I want my own grill so that I can sit in the air conditioning while food is grilling, but enjoy the lake view if I want, because no matter what anyone says, sweat is sweat, whether we southern girls also "glisten" or not.

Long Time Coming

I love my new toenail polish. I notice my feet and I remember how much I like them. I like my feet. They have been the one thing about my body that I've consistently liked. It feels good to have something other than pink sparkle on my toes. I'm concentrating on my toes, looking at them so long, they almost become alien. Two friends of mine are having babies soon. One of them already has a two year old son, who is beautiful and smart. The other friend got married six months after I did. She's due in six months. I haven't felt this close and this far from grown up, ever. All of my friends are married. They're having kids and becoming entirely different people. Change has to happen, and it's interesting to see what is changing. One of my friends, J., said that I'd lost my edge. I didn't agree with him initially because I felt the same. It wasn't until later that I realized I had lost a bit of my edge simply because I didn't need it to protect me anymore. I'd finally met someone who was doing it all for me. I didn't ever realize I'd stop protecting myself, that I'd subconsciously given my husband permission to do so, and that I could let him do it without worrying that he wouldn't do a good job.

Marriage isn't the only thing that causes change. Time. Age. Sensibility. Even if you don't change as a result of new things in your own life, you are forced to change because of the people around you. My friends no longer had me all to themselves. My mom was no longer the strongest voice in my life. They had to adapt. So what's the biggest change you've had to make? What's the biggest change someone has made because of you? What was the biggest influence for change in your life?

When I look at my feet, I'm glad I still like them. My body is changing because I'm getting older, my metabolism is slowing down and my sedentary lifestyle and mediocre eating habits are getting the better of the rest of my body. I am trying to honor my body and live a good, long life (I still intend to enjoy it) by exercising and changing my diet. But my feet are still pretty. The green polish is radiant on my toes. They are pretty and I'm glad that hasn't changed.

Writers Write

Writing is such a big deal and I feel, everyday, as if I am falling flat on my face. Despite not having to work, I still feel like I don't have enough time to do all the things that I should be doing to be a successful writer. I don't read like I should, I watch more tv than anybody I know personally. Though I would like to write television shows, I hated living in California. So right now, the best I can hope for when it comes to television writing is a bunch of people who want so badly to write, direct and produce a television show that they are willing to do it for no pay with their own money. It is an expensive and time consuming endeavor. I would do it in a heartbeat.

The problem, mainly, is that I don't know which direction I want to go in. Writing articles is the way most writers go because it's instant gratification... well, instant as in you get paid per article, you don't necessarily have to have an agent, you can track down the work yourself, etc. Writing books requires an enormous investment of time, and may or may not be successful. It is harder to find an agent, a market, etc. Yet while finding a direction is a problem, my second problem is wanting to see the way RightNow. It is disconcerting to be in a place where the possible results of my work aren't even conceivable. I do not know where I am going. I have no idea what my goal is. When I worked at the milk and cookie shop, I knew that I wanted to manage it, so all of my thoughts, work, everything went to making that goal a reality. What is my new forward momentum now? What is my new direction?

I tell people I want to be a writer. They say, what do you write. I don't know where to begin. I dabble in short stories (I've been writing short stories since I was 13. Before that I wrote poetry.) and have a wonderful opportunity to work on article writing, but I let my writing muscles atrophy because I let myself believe what countless people told me growing up. Don't be a writer, be a teacher. I tried that route, but was not satisfied in it, although I love to teach and my ultimate goal involves teaching and writing. No, what was not satisfying was that I felt I should stifle my writing urges because I knew, otherwise, they would take over. It is not a pretty thing to give in to the voices in your head. I told my husband once that I would have stories going on in there all the time, characters talking, actions being acted out, for good or evil. I worked hard to stop it and one day the stories stopped. I regret that now.

I don't know how to turn it back on, to reach into the recesses for the people who lived there, whose lives were entertaining, where things happened so quickly I couldn't write it down. It was an ongoing story line. My dreams are even wimping out on me, not providing the fodder for writing they once did. As I look back through old notebooks of old stories, I cringe, but I long for the time when I wrote what I saw, good or bad, and was able to craft them into the stories that made my family believe in me even when there was no other evidence to support that belief.

So I will follow the mantra that many writers follow: Writers write. There is nothing else to do. There is no other course. And with the writing must come the patience to let myself develop from this ugly writing duckling into a beautiful author swan.

Obsessions

I have had various obsessions over the years. They usually involve some sort of cheese product (cheetos, chees-ums, cheese) or chocolate (peanut butter m&ms, regular m&ms, chocolate). I had a strange obsessions with Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds that was almost possessive. I would always have at least two boxes in the house. Anyway, the real reason you're here: My current obsessions.

Right now, I would really like a shiny new MacBook. I have been looking forward to this since before MacWorld in January. I've been wanting a new laptop and thought about getting an iBook. After they got rid of the eMacs and came out with the new iMacs, my husband realized they were probably going to upgrade the iBook, so I waited... and waited... and waited. I got up early on that Tuesday, waiting to hear Steve Jobs announce the new iBook. What he introduced was the MacBook Pro and while I would have loved to get one of those, I didn't need (nor could I afford) a professional strength laptop. No, I wanted the less expensive, consumer model. I was so disappointed. I'm not sure If I'd ever been so disappointed by electronics. Every whisper of an Apple Event made me long for the new iBook. Then, quietly, Apple slides the new iBook, all shiny and white (and black if you'd like) onto their website without any fanfare and again, I'm brought to tears, but the happy kind. So, we are going to a wedding this weekend and on the way back, we will stop at the Apple Store and I will get to tap my fingers across the very beautiful, simple keyboard and ask my silly, technewb questions and nerd out about the writing software I can get for it and maybe, if the sun is shining, I will get a new MacBook and if the sun isn't, then I will get it in a few months when it is much more reasonable. But obsessions aren't reasonable and I'm sorry, honey, for always talking about it.

So, your turn. And if you're scared that your obsession is closer to my cheese obsession than to my MacBook obsession, then here's my other obsession. Magic Shell. Especially Reese's Magic Shell. Even though there is no peanut butter in the recipe, nor does it warn against peanut allergies, so, scary. But it's so good and slightly addictive. As we all know. Now share. Thanks!

Last Meal

I have an affinity to Asian foods. The sauces, the noodles. I love Japanese foods, spicy Thai foods. I tried crab rangoon once and now my judgement of a restaurant rests on their crab rangoon. I adore Italian food. It is the ultimate in guilty pleasure. Pasta, cheese, cheese, meats, sauces. Italian food is my comfort food, food I nominated most likely to make me smile on a rainy night. Of course, there's nothing like hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill, traditional southern food, fried chicken, collard greens, mashed potatoes, sweet tea, sweet potato pie, barbecued pork...

I love food, from great to small. It would be hard for me to choose my last meal, the last meal I would ever have to taste, the last thing that I have in my memory, from my memories of the life I've lived. The last meal started as kind of a karmic/superstitious attempt by the law enforcement group to have a clear conscience in putting a criminal to death. It was a time of celebration because the prisoner's acceptance of the food said he forgave them for what they were about to do. It was the prisoner's last chance to be with family, to experience the life they threw away.

My choice of food would have alot to do with the life I've lived, starting from when I was little until now. Foods that I've eaten at important times of my life, foods that have garnered praise for me. For me, this will take alot of thought. What about you? What would you last meal be, or include?

Am I Crazy...

... or are the new Mac ads hilarious? After watching them all a couple of time, the virus one is the funniest.

Of course, Mac is following in a long line of commercials that feature the preferred product as the young, slightly tossled hipster and the competing product as a slightly more fuddy duddy character. Based on the commercial, it is hilarious how clueless PC makers and users are. The fact that these commercials will go much further than researching products in changing the minds of the public about Macs is good for Mac and sad for us.

Most people I know hate their PCs. They get tired of the crashing, the viruses, the constant ad-mail checks, etc. They want something that just works. Yet most of these people never consider Macs because they are more comfortable with windows. Let me tell you, it would take less time to learn the new OS X operating system and save you frustration in the long run than it would take using AVG to scan your computer for viruses.

So, Bravo, Mac. Your use of current trends to turn people to you will work. Hopefully, it will not change the way you make computers.

Jesus, Judas, Spring Festivals

I haven't read the Gospel of Judas, but I've read all about other people reading about it. They have some interesting hypotheses, one of which is that Jesus commissioned Judas to betray him. There's just one problem with that theory in my mind.

The hanging.

Now, I can understand where it all comes from. Nobody wants a bad guy in the story of Jesus. Judas was just doing what Jesus said, blah blah blah. But let me tell you something. I've often been the bearer of bad news for others who have maligned me because I believed that what needed to be said or done was encouraged by the Holy Spirit. Now, believe me or not, that's not the issue. This is not a debate as to whether God speaks now or not or how He speaks when He does. This is an issue of stance. If the God of the Universe tells me to do something, something I would write about, I damn well won't be hanging myself because you don't like it.

Now, the secret knowledge that Jesus gave to Judas. You mean the same secret knowledge He gave to all the disciples, or just the secret knowledge that Judas took to the grave. Was this secret knowledge not worth living for, worth sharing. You'd think someone who had Christ's secret knowledge would also have is mission. Or does it insinuate that Judas only mission was getting Jesus killed for the sake of all eternity and salvation.

Some people say that Jesus telling Judas to betray Him is not outside of what scripture already reveals, and I agree. But scripture also tells us that Judas fulfills scripture by buying the land and killing himself. I don't think killing remorse is a sign of special revelation.

Maybe I'm just crazy.

A church I know is having a Spring Festival for Easter. And that makes me laugh.

I love candy and I love routine. I like knowing that every year, there is something I'm doing. So that means, every Easter season, I'm on the look out for Whoppers Robin Eggs. If you've never had them, then you are truly missing out.

My mom used to always have whoppers in the house. You know, the chocolate covered malt balls in what looks like it could be a milk container, but all the wrong colours. They were special treats and if we were spry enough, we could sneak more than she'd give away. One year, when I was buying my own candy, I spied a bag of Whoppers Robin Eggs and thought to give them a try. They have been a tradition ever since, about ten years now. It's kind of an obsession, the way I keep and eye out for them whenever supermarkets start throwing up pastel on one aisle. It's way cheaper to get them at Walmart and sometimes you have to because Kroger runs out. But what I like to do is buy them when they're 50 cents on sale after Easter. I pick up two bags of them and I'm satisfied for at least two day after Easter. I'm addicted.

This year, I passed the addiction on. The Honey had never had them. 4 bags later, he's eating them like he came up with them and that makes me happy. But hey, I'm not the only one obsessed with Whopper Eggs. You can even buy them on Ebay. However, I don't buy them later than the day after Easter, because otherwise, why else would I look forward to Easter?

SuperBusy

That's what I think my new superhero name should be.

I'm driving myself crazy with busy-ness and sometimes I feel like I will shut down at any second. I don't have the will to stop doing all the things I am doing.

I've been working out. Although I feel good about my body, it is killing me. When I started, when I felt less stressed, I would come away from a workout feeling re-energized. But now, I am just more exhausted. At least I get so tired that I go to sleep alot earlier than usual. I'm hoping that after May, I will be out of that cycle.

I'm keeping some of my writing goals that I make daily. I'm teaching myself to write the things I want to write, I'm working on my television scripts. I actually sat down and went through the paper for story ideas. I think I'm going to subscribe to the Sunday New York Times. I got alot of ideas from a couple of weeks ago. The AJC is good too, but not as diverse. It could be better though. I still don't have a specific time I sit and write, nor the discipline that I need for doing the type of writing I want to do. I'll get it though.

We are moving. Our new apartment is being worked on now and we will move in completely by May 1, but they are trying to get it ready by mid April. So, I will have to start using my free time (ha!) to start packing/throwing things away. I have alot of books. And clothes. And junk. I feel sorry for me.

I don't know what I'm doing...

... but I've had to delete several posts because when I bring my page up in Firefox, it is not lined up correctly. Has anyone noticed this over the last few weeks?

It's starting to make me mad. I'm not even sure what is happening, but certain posts have something in them that is making them unreadable on my site. I wish I knew.

Signs of Life

Do you ever feel like you're so busy that every time you think of one thing you want to do, you can think of at least six things you should be doing instead? Do you ever feel like you've spent the life delegating the bulk of your responsibility to yourself to the backburner and take care of everyone else first... that you do it so much you begin to think that taking care of everyone else IS the bulk of your responsibility?

When do you say enough is enough? When do you start doing the 1 thing you want to do for yourself? Soon enough I say. But it's never as soon as I would like.

Life is good, for those who are wondering. I am not sure if the video that we were shooting is as good as we'd like or if it is something we'd like to continue. That makes me sad. I wish we'd kept all the people who were helping, but we weren't able to. The good thing is knowing what you really, actually need when trying to shoot a sitcom. Maybe I'll be able to get something done later, but for now, it looks like a lost cause.

Writing is going well. I've started interning for a local entertainment newspaper (unpaid of course) and I will have a few things in it, even if it is just the calendar.

I'm working out... which means I actually get sleepy at night, so I'm not so insomniac... yet it is 5am and I have yet to go to bed, though I've been yawning since 7:30.

I woke up lucid for my Wednesday morning Bible Study. There's hope for God yet.

I am so in love with my husband, it makes the pragmatic non-romantic in me sick. And I don't care.

Well, that's the quick update. Keep reading my sidebar...

What up with my site?

If anyone else sees something wrong with my website, please let me know. Right now, it looks like an idiot.

Update: One post was throwing the entire site off. If you left a comment, please know that I didn't delete it on purpose. Comment away everyone!