Archive for the ‘Just Life’ Category

Time Capsule

Posted: June 30, 2018 in Just Life

When I first started this blog in 2011 it was because I was afraid of losing my creative light to the darkness. I also thought that if I was afraid then there must be other writers who shared the same fears and maybe I could somehow be inspirational.

I had no plan to be a successful blogger, which is obvious, and I utilized this space to have fun, build momentum, and to keep my sanity (as best a non-writing writer can).

One day I stopped. I finally gave into my darkness and stopped writing. Stopped writing in the sense that I could no longer fight the constant barrage of messaging:

Grow up. [eye roll]

You love writing more than your family.

I don’t get why you waste your time.

You’re not a real writer.

Sure, it’s funny, but what’s the point?

You only wrote seven pages in three hours?

You’re 40, maybe it’s time for a new hobby.

The outer world was now harmonizing with my already powerful inner head talk and I needed to turn off the volume. I’ve been insecure about writing my entire life. I’ve struggle with the craft, I can’t get my thoughts onto the page fast enough, and I sacrifice my needs to help others then use it as an excuse for my own lack of discipline.

When I started this blog, I was married with young children. I lost my job and took on the role of Stay-At-Home-Parent. My neighborhood was on a rapid decline and I rarely slept a full night, as I was constantly worrying about money, my parenting mistakes, and losing the last thread of my dreams.

I would sneak out of bed, sit in the empty bathtub and write my worries away through this blog.

Reading through my old posts has been like opening a time capsule. A blast of hot and cold memories and an eerie reminder that time keeps moving, whether we do or not.

Keep writing…


Five Years Later…

Posted: May 6, 2018 in Just Life


Was it an alien abduction?

A time machine malfunction?

Reality show gone real?

She’s Back!



Posted: October 9, 2013 in Just Life
Tags: , , , , , ,

CreepyAntoine was right, hide yo kids!

So creepy!

Stop looking at me Ewok!


[Note: I don’t know where I found this GIF and it can never be returned for it is forever filed under Nightmares.]



My blog is my safe place where I like to play around and be all the things I can’t always be in everyday life. Here I get to meet people I would never have a chance to otherwise and learn of a world far greater than myself.

It amazes me how different our lives are, but how immersed in each other we can become. One idea, one phrase, one stroke of brilliance, or passion can spark an obsession that creates a truth far greater than the abstracts of happiness. Sometimes the ability to take a glimpse into the lives of other writers makes everything seem calm in a world that spins faster than a kid on a Merry-Go-Round. Our fingers refuse to let go of the rungs (or even our pens for that matter), but our minds and hearts soar into chaos so that each day we have something new to live for and write.

I believe it’s impossible to fall out of love with writing even when the momentum of it feels sluggish or nonexistent.

Last week I joined another blogger, Jonas David, in the Ray Bradbury challenge: A story a week for one year. Today he posted that he had completed his first story and I am proud to report that I have done the same.

So you see when I disappear it’s not because I gave up on blogging or don’t care about my followers, I’m just silly in love.

What’s your love story?


[Note about video: Wish it were mine.]


So I know you’re anxiously awaiting the follow-up to my Homegirls Potato Chips post, but first I needed to do some light housekeeping on my blog.

For example, I updated my About Me page and added a couple of new ones this week.

The Janet Reid page will be home for the writing contest entries I submit to her blog, which I recommend you visit by clicking the link provided.

I then created the S.E.T. page in order to replace my Search Engine Sabbath posts.

I won’t lie, I can’t keep up with the bizarre entries and they’re better off in one place where the humor can stay intact. Trust me!

Now go browse around.

[Note: Pic is not my own– though I would love for that guy to clean my house.]

Well...not yet.

Well…not yet.

Literary Agent, Janet Reid, called me… evocative.

Yes, she stood on her desk and yelled to the slush pile readers, “Holy moly this bitch is evocative like a one armed strip tease!”

Okay, so, that’s not quite, what happened, but here’s what went down.

I’ve been entering her 100 word story contests the last few weeks and the first piece I submitted totally bombed. However, the second story I submitted received recognition for a line that really stood out. Really, truly, seriously.

Then this week she wrote the following, “Not quite a story, but holy moly talk about evocative.”

I don’t know about you, but to make someone use the holy moly curse is wicked awesome.

So now, I am obsessed and I want to win one of her contests. I’m going to keep trying and like any good stalker, I have created a shrine in honor of my devotion to Janet Reid (until I get tired of her or arrested that is).

Click here to view my submissions and her responses, as I will be updating the page with each new entry.

I recommend you also check out her blog and start participating in whatever interests you. If anything, she’s worth having in your writer’s toolbox.

Until next time… create your story and keep writing.

Happy Bag


I live between two corner stores.

One is spacious, clean, well lit, sells lotto tickets, and has a MAC machine (ATM for my Midwest hoodsters). They are invested in customer service and even sell fresh produce, but they don’t get nearly as much business as the other store.

Instead, the dark, stinky, mouse infested creep store with the twenty-point security camera system with all street views is one busy place.

Here’s how you know when your corner store is a front for something else:

Repeat customers: When you see the same guy make 7-15 trips to the store on foot within a six-hour window they either have severe munchies, OCD, or they are part of distribution.

Bags: The plastic bags are all black unlike the white ones with happy faces that say, “Thank you, have a nice day.”  Plus, the repeat customers never seem to leave with a bag, not even the one they went in with.

Muscle: Anyone who sits on a milk crate outside the store all day no matter the weather is not a cousin of the owner or making minimum wage. That guy will kill you if necessary.

Prices: They’re random. One day a 7-Up may cost $1.50 and the next $1.10, but if you don’t have exact change it’s just a dollar. This is code for get the hell out, quick before some shit goes down, we don’t want your nerd ass in here.

Fire: Every six to twelve months the store mysteriously catches on fire. It then gets a name change, usually something the letters can respell with little effort and some red duct tape– like PAPPOS to RORRAS.

Cops: No matter how many times they get robbed, you’ll never see a cop. As a matter of fact, you’ll never see a uniformed cop go in for a quick pack of gum or Red Bull. However, you might see the occasional clean-cut plain-clothes kind sitting in their Crown Victoria, and when you do that’s not the day to buy a 7-Up.

Remember: Competition is good and monopoly is bad.



[Note: Pic not mine, I’m a hater of happy faces.]