Category Archives: Life

Inspiration, Life, Writing Life

How Do You Write….

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… when the words don’t come?

I’m not talking writer’s block. I’m talking about when life circumstances throw steaming piles of dog excrement in your general direction and you are bogged down in the muck and mire of the depths of emotion. I know I should channel this… “this”… into something creative or useful.

This year has been one big mess after another. My spousal unit was transferred to another city in the state, we sold our house, I have a family member who’s going through yet ANOTHER big round of big chemo for cancer and the news I got last night has left me scrambling – no starved – for oxygen. I feel like I’m at the top of a cloud enshrouded mountain and cannot inhale deeply enough. At this moment, I can’t see past the billowing nebula storming around me.

It’s one thing to write with emotion. It’s another to be unable to write because of it.  Poop.

Characters, Craft of Writing, Inspiration, Life, New York, Travel, Writing

What Inspires You?

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“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.”
~Edgar Allen Poe~

ImageWhat inspires you?

Such an innocent looking question, isn’t it?

Does inspiration come from something our soul touches? Does it come from a place of understanding and acceptance or maybe the search thereof? Is inspiration born of emotion or found in the depths of apathy? Is it divine intervention? The reason we are inspired to do the things we do, to write the things we write or to be who we are is unique to each of us. What illuminates my universe and prods me forward may give you hesitation.

I was reading a news article this morning about a woman in Chicago who was charged $787.33 for two-mile cab ride. I love stories like this for a couple of reasons.

  1. Stories like this I tuck away in case I need a character whether it be a cab driver, a college student or even a worker at a credit card company. The truth in a story like this gives better depth to a character, even if a minor one.
  2. The comments in the story from others who were overcharged were sometimes ridiculously funny. Some offered helpful hints as to how to avoid overpaying for cabbie services. Others made me cringe. All spoke of the universality of human nature.

I’ve taken my fair share of taxi’s, though not in Chicago. Almost all of them have been in New York City. Only once have I gotten into it with the driver, who claimed the credit card machine didn’t work. As I didn’t want to be late for my flight home, I just shelled out cash and got on with it. Yes. I’m an idiot. But we learn from our mistakes, eh? Will I use that experience at some point in my writing? Probably so.

You see, the piece I’m working on has much of it taking place in the Big Apple and it would be easy enough to wind in a scene with a NY cabbie and a main character. If done right, it would provide quite a comedic moment as I wasn’t familiar at the time with how hacks operate and this individual would be just as clueless.

So back to the original question. What inspires you?

My inspiration is drawn from everything around me, but mostly things I have experienced. From the experience I ask the question “what if…?” and see where it takes me. (I’m hoping it takes me back to New York. I love that town.)

(Photo courtsey WFLD)

Life

Welcome to My Happy Home

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Please make yourself comfy. I’ve got tea, coffee or maybe something stronger if you’ve had a rough day. Let’s sit and talk about life, liberty and the pursuits of happiness or whatever else may float your proverbial boat.

As well as the adventures and misadventures of everyday life, I plan on sharing with you my love of writing, some pieces I have written and my thoughts on both books, screenplays, movies and even songs. Much is written in such a way that the turn of a phrase captures the heart and mind. At the end of the day, isn’t what moves us what our individual universes are really about?

Please, grab a cup of joe and come along on this merry adventure. I think the ride will be worth the price of admission.

Home, Life

All Because of Laundry

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“Many people take no care of their money till they come nearly to the end of it, and others do just the same with their time.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 

I had a rude awakening tonight (one of several actually) and I thought I would share it with you. I’m not really proud of this revelation, but self-discovery is always interesting – especially when uncovering the baser parts of human nature. Tonight’s discovery concerned “entitlement.” 

When we talk about “entitlement”, generally it’s about the “younger” or “next” generation and  their expectations to make large salaries upon graduation from college – or even high school. Youth today seems to expect to have things handed to them that my generation and back had to work and work hard to achieve. 

So it’s with a grimace I’m sharing with you this experience.

With the move to Dallas, Yoda and I are tapped out financially for a bit.  We’ve been living paycheck to paycheck for a while, but this pretty much takes the cake – having to take on apartment rental on top of a mortgage payment (which will be covered by someone renting the house for the time being, but I digress…) There are extra utilities, two households worth of groceries, extra gasoline for now driving in the Metroplex (as well as back and forth) and many more miles to work … you get the picture.  

And to clarify, tapped out means just that. I have enough money for a tank of gas and about $20 left for groceries until I get paid again. If other bills need to get paid, fuhget’boutit. They will be late. I can accept this as it’s only for a couple of weeks. (I hope.) 

However… I HAD to go to the grocery tonight and get some laundry detergent and fabric softener in order to have clean clothes to wear. Wandering around naked just isn’t an option. No one, save Yoda, wants to see all of this hanging out.

This decision was the beginning of the end.

I don’t buy the big name brands of detergent. I’m a middle of the road kind of gal.  So as a general rule I get the BIG VALUE 150 load bottles of soapy-wonderment for something like 10 bucks. About that. I only had $11 to spend on both tonight. The store I went to carried my normal detergent in a smaller size, but the price was $7.50. Seriously? That’s not helpful. At all. Why spend that much for so much less…? And then not be able to afford anything but the $1.99 fabric softener which smelled like… like… well… I don’t have a good description. There are perfumes that don’t smell that bad. And it was runny. It was so watery… Why even bother? 

So I sat pacing the freakin’ detergent aisle for the longest time and finally bought a small bottle of the store brand of detergent and a decent bottle of fabric softener. I paid $10.20.  

This whole thing brings me back to “entitlement.” 

I would like to think at my age I would have learned my lesson and saved for the rainy day, paid off all the freakin’ credit cards (which in the overall scheme of things are completely unnecesary and just a bunch of BS) and actually achieved something more than living paycheck to paycheck.  However, I apparently didn’t learn it and as a result I sat in the grocery store thinking that I should be able to get any damned laundry detergent I wanted because I’m old enough by George.  (Insert foot-stomp here.)

George had nothing to do with it. 
I’m not entitled to my favorite detergent. 
I’m just a girl who is starting over in life… in the middle of life. 

What I have learned from this is that we all get second chances to get things right and to make things better.  I have a feeling 2014 will see a lot more change than I have already experienced and will also see me humbling myself and admitting that just because I’m older, doesn’t mean I’m wiser… not just yet. 

Family, Home, Life, Organization, Uncategorized

Christmas Tidings

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“Oh look, yet another Christmas TV special! How touching to have the meaning of Christmas brought to us by cola, fast food and beer…. Who’d have ever guessed that product consumption, popular entertainment and spirituality would mix so harmoniously?” 
~Bill Watterson – The Essential Calvin and Hobbes~




I’m sitting in my bedroom blogging this evening as my husband spends a few hours with his parents and his sister. Because my sister in law is going through some serious health issues of her own, I have been temporarilly banned from the house. Stupid flu. 

This has NOT been a “normal” family Christmas. Daughter #1 worked today and is now crumpled up in bed feeling crummy. Daughter #2 has taken some Christmas food to my mother and gone to see her boyfriend and his family. They are getting older and I’m reminded of how my parents must have felt as my sister and I moved on with our lives. It’s bizarre and saddens me some. 

I was starkly reminded of the first Christmases Yoda and I spent together – days when we barely had a couple of dimes to rub together, not much else than that. Those were rough, but good days. Because of the move, cash is at a premium so we drew names for gifts. This was hard because as “mom” or “dad” you want to give your kids everything. This was the first year we had to really limit ourselves so Yoda would have gas money to get back to Dallas and some grocery and laundry money as well. The gifts we exchanged were small, but from the heart. I think this is the way it should be. Forget quantity… quality is a much better thing. 

(Sigh)

As I have been grounded today, I have spent some time working on my Smash Book. It’s a non-traditional scrapbook by K&C Company that my daughters got me hooked on earlier this summer. I added a few things from a couple of my trips to New York City, San Francisco, Inn of the Mountain Gods, St. Louis, and Dallas, TX. (I think I’ve been a few places, eh?) If you are wanting something a little different for a scrapbook, but don’t want to invest the time and energy in a full-blown big one, I highly recommend a Smash Book. Awesome stuff right there.  For me, each page is a reminder of how blessed I truly am. 

And speaking of blessings… I pray for you and yours a Merry Christmas filled with Christ’s love, faith, hope and truth. (Whether you believe in Him or not.) 
I’ll see you again on the flip side. 

Home, Illness, Life, Organization

Moving Reflections

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“We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”
~Walt Disney~ 


A week ago today, Yoda and I set forth on a new journey to Dallas, Texas.  We packed up our belongings… Wait. Let me rephrase that. We packed up most of our belongings – enough to get the apartment in Dallas stocked and ready for Darling to live. The movers came, loaded everything we had ready to go and we travelled the 350+ miles to our new city. 

The next morning (Thursday) we frantically took possession of the keys to our new place. At that time, quasi-misery sunk in. I feeling heartsick and anxious because we were signing paperwork mere minutes before the moving van was to arrive AND I was, at that time, showing the first symptoms of influenza.  Within a couple of hours, the moving van had departed and we were already unpacking boxes. 

Now… I think it really needs to be noted that when someone is moving into a new place there is a specific item that cannot be forgotten and needs to be unpacked first. 
Toilet paper. 
I can honestly say I went out to eat lunch primarily because I needed to use the facilities more than I needed sustinance. My word how I just wanted to pee.  It felt like releasing Hoover Dam on the Colorado River. My bladder stood and applauded. Then I had to go and drink like two or three glasses of tea thereby doing a “lather, rinse and repeat” type of moment.  Just for the record, La Hacineda on Highway 121 has a nice ladies restroom. 

While we were there for the initial move, I wasn’t in much of a condition to drive. I didn’t even care if I drove.  In hindsight this may be a problem.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to get lost at some point, but thankfully I have a GPS and GoogleMaps.  I figure when the time comes, I’ll just blow through a tank or two of gas learning the area and figure it out from there. I bring this up because we had to go shopping and Yoda needed to learn his way around.  Not only did we need the aforementioned toilet paper, but we also needed food, as we didn’t bring much from the house. We also needed silly things that people take for granted such as shower curtains and that type of thing. However, I think as Darling was learning his way around, we drove down the same street like 50 times. At this moment, I can’t even remember the NAME of the stupid street. 

For the next couple of days we unpacked pretty much the entire apartment and as we did, the flu got worse. Yoda, the tape-dispensing Jedi Master, is also a master of the box-cutter.  (Though I’m not too shabby with the blade.) He tore down almost every last box he’d so painstakingly put together, just so we could bring them back home and load up some more stuff – “my” stuff to be exact. I’m really hoping to find a job soon and be back with Yoda before I know it. 

We were supposed to come back Saturday, but I felt so miserable we came back Sunday. I don’t know that made any difference other than I got some more sleep. But Yoda Darling was a good sport and drove the entire way while I was doped up on Nyquil. As an aside: We also had kicked in the two month trial on SiriusXM satellite radio. It made more a much more enjoyable trip down and back. I’m STILL going through all the channels and have yet to find my favorites, but it’s really nice to have options. This will make the commute times in Dallas so much easier.  

What channels do you listen to? Why? 
(Need suggestions here.)


Monday I went to the doctor. I indeed have the flu and a sinus infection. I’m not a fan of this. I got a shot in the butt and two prescriptions; however, no Tamiflu for me. It was past the 24-48 hour window. The reality: I should have just found a clinic in Dallas. Hindsight I suppose. I knew what it was, but toughed it out. Now I’m still a sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy-headed, feverish (still!) and need to rest mess. Thank God for Nyquil (though why they reformulated it I will never know.)

Anywhoo… just catching up on a few things. I’ll see you on the flip side.

Home, Life, Movies, Organization

I Love Tape and Star Wars… and tape…

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I don’t see how the Empire could be powerful enough to control the galaxy and still lose to an army of teddy bears   :confused:

The Empire did not lose to a bunch of teddy bears. They lost because of the damned wookie.



For the past few days I have slept some. I have eaten some. And I have packed more boxes than I ever care to again.  I know good and well I will more than likely be repeating the process again in 2014 twice – once to finish this move and another to hopefully move from the apartment into a more permanent residence. I. AM. NOT. AMUSED.  Okay, I’m better. Just had to get that out. Phew.  

What is tickling my “not so funny bone” during this weird adventure is “tape.” 

Since the first time I encountered the wonderfully sticky substance and wrapped my first present using GOBS of it, tape has been my friend. It’s versitile, handy and my “go-to” adhesive for many things.  Let’s face it, without duct tape the world would be in sorry shape. Who needs the force? I am Obi Wan with duct tape. 

But packing tape is an entirely different story. 

It’s not like duct tape, electrical tape, scotch tape, strapping tape, etc. It has it’s own handled dispenser which my husband handles as if he were Luke Skywalker brandishing his light saber against Darth Vader in the Battle of Endor.  I operate it like an Ewok trying to fly a sky rider while a storm trooper is after me.  It’s a bloody mess. My husband is a Packing Tape Jedi Knight. Yoda is he. In awe am I. 

Yoda stated earlier to me he was tired of going to war with the Boxes.  He said, “After days of battle, I’m tired and sore. And if I have to hear the sound of tape again…”

I tuned out the Jedi Master. 

With all of the tape I have ever wielded, I have never once given thought to the sound it makes coming off the roll.  We battled another box and it yielded it the tape. Each strip held a sound different from the last as it howled its battle cry. 
As we sealed the last box for part one of the journey, Yoda was exhausted, but victorious. He never wants to hear the tape emit any sound as long as he lives. He deserves a long, winter’s nap. Personally, I want to know if packing tape would have finished building the other half of the Death Star (or maybe that’s really the job of packing tape’s big brother duct tape.) I think I’m going to have to find a Wookie and ask… 

Home, Life

Metamorphosis

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“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.” 
~ Eric Roth~
“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Screenplay)
 
 
I’ve lived in one city my entire life. I’ve lived within five miles of the house I grew up in, though I have moved several times. For all practical purposes, this place has been my cocoon, even though I have very much wanted to “escape” to other places or sometimes drifted away mentally and felt as though I was living my own “Secret Life of Walter Mitty.” 
 
Today is the last day that “officially” my family will really be together.  My husband is being transferred to Dallas and we have found an apartment in the spanning metroplex 350 miles away.  Tomorrow the movers come and we will be transporting much of the household to another place “far, far away.” Some of our belongings will stay here while I’m still here searching for a new job, another story all together.  Then move #2 will happen. (Please insert sarcastic sounding joyful giddyness here.) 
 
It’s the genesis of an empty nest. My kids are of the age where they are branching out, trying new things and becoming individuals I am proud of. But it’s also a scary thing too. I’m ready, but not ready.  
 
While going through things and packing up a lifetime of belongings, it’s amazing the things I have kept. I know why I have kept much of it – I’m a sentimental fool. But moving this stuff, I just want to say, “F-it. Throw the lot of it out. I’m done.” But then emotion tugs at me and I just can’t do it. I’m a sentimental fool. 
 
The moving truck arrives in the morning and all I can do is hope things arrive in one piece… or arrive at all. This whole thing though explains why I haven’t blogged in a while. However, as my darling husband is in the land of Far, Far Away, I’m sure I’ll have some food for thought as I go about a season of change… rather like the butterflies who have to emerge from the safety and comfort of their cocoons if they want to fly.  (BTW…The blue ones are my favorite.) 
 
History, Inspiration, Life

Red, White and Blue Thoughts

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Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
~John F. Kennedy~ 
Dad – 1943 Ft. Bliss 
November 11, 1919
It was the first Veteran’s Day – the commemoration of Armistice Day ( a day set aside to honor the vets of WWI, the Great War.)  It was made a national / legal “holiday” in 1938 to honor veterans of all wars and through several modifications and alterations was sealed in stone as November 11th by President Ford. 
My father was born a few months before the “end” of WWI.  Following the Great War came the Great Depression. He was blessed and didn’t have as hard of a time as some, but in 1942, he enlisted in the U.S. Army, where he became a sergeant.  He transferred to the Air Corps and reached the rank of captain. He told me stories of his time in the military, some were funny, some not so much. But he was proud to have served and his patriotism always shone through.

As he got older he watched later generations’ patriotism melt into apathy.  Maybe it happened because of the Korea / Vietnam, “wars” the United States “shouldn’t” have been involved in. (Or am I supposed to say “conflicts?” I forget.) With the age of the Cold War and heightened nuclear era, there was a new and different type of patriotism, not the age-old “Rosie the Riveter” and “Uncle Sam Wants You” type of patriotism seen with WWII.  We wanted to “beat” Russia in the arms race, but it wasn’t what I would call a red,white and blue patriotic effort. 

It took an act of terrorism on American soil to ignite the embers that lay dormant for so long. Americans wanted to be patriotic again. They wanted justice. They wanted to pay back the enemy, just as we did when the Japanese Imperial Navy took the lives of American soliders on a beautiful Sunday morning at Pearl Harbor. 

But these weren’t soldiers who were killed. 
These were everyday citizens going about their daily lives…
Lives snuffed short because someone, somewhere didn’t like what America stands for. 

Over a debris field, a tattered flag was hoisted and the spirit of the American people soared anew in a wave of patriotism not seen since WWII. 

So … 
What is this thing called patriotism? 

One might say it’s the love, support or devotion to one’s country. Others would have a different definition and I’m not sure today exactly how dad would define it. 

I would say it’s the feeling one has deep down inside when you know we live in the greatest nation on Earth and when that nation is threatened, you would wrap yourself in the red, white and blue and die to defend it.

On this Veterans Day… it’s been 70 years since this photo of my dad was taken at Fort Bliss. For all who have served (including my mother, aunts, uncles, brother, brothers in law, nephews, friends… etc!), who are still serving, or who will serve this great nation of ours, you are appreciated more than you will ever know. May you all rest easy tonight whether you are in the sandbox, sailing the seven seas, flying high across the moonless sky or wherever you may be… God Bless each and every one of you. 

Emotion, Faith, Home, Life

Simplicity and Honesty

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I normally start all my blogs with a quote. Today – not so much.  I’m going to try to keep this simple and honest. No pretty pictures. Just raw and honest about a few things.

When I was a kid, I had all the unrealistic expectations you would expect a child to have. As I became a teenager, I had a couple of lofty ambitions. I expected I would become a journalist, the next Woodward/Bernstein, or I would work for Rolling Stone or Time magazine – travel the world and see the sights and hear the sounds the world has to offer.  But I grew older and I settled for less and I settled down. I got used to routine and the day-in/day-out became comfortable.

I never stopped to wonder why.

The time has come to take everything I have known and disenfranchise myself from my hometown and take on “new adventures.” It’s harder when we get older. Even though I remind myself I’m not old, right now – this very moment – I feel old. And afraid.

There. I said it. I’m afraid of starting completely over.

I’m afraid of moving to a new place that’s not so comfortable. This town is like a well-worn pair of jeans. But I’m scared to see if that pair of jeans is just hanging on by a thread and if my underwear is starting to show.

I’m afraid of trying to find a new job.
I’m afraid of not finding a job.
I’m afraid of looking for a new place to live.
I’m afraid of homelessness.
I’m afraid of finding new doctors because mine know me so well.
I’m afraid of not finding doctors that have a clue.
I’m afraid of driving in a place I know nothing about that has a crap-ton more traffic.
I’m afraid of getting into an accident.
I’m afraid of not fitting in.
I’m afraid of people not understanding my warped sense of humor.
I’m afraid of being “alone” in a place with thousands of people.
I’m afraid of wanting to come running “home” and home just not being home anymore.

I never thought that my fearless teenage self would be sitting in front of a computer at middle age afraid to embrace change. But there it is in stark black and white. Simple and honest.