I’m Not Vain, But I Miss The Sound Of My Voice

Yup, laryngitis, folks. I sound like a boy going through puberty. You know I actually wanted laryngitis once. It would have given me the chance to not speak to people. Yeah, I’m that bad when it comes to being personable. If you don’t believe me ask my friend Kristy.

Anyway, I’ll be back on New Year’s. Hopefully with my voice. Until then I’ve got some crank calls to make.

Santa Is On My Hit List

He decided coal wouldn’t be good enough for me, so he brought me a sore throat, chest congestion, and a stuffed up nose. The man in the red suit is not to be trusted. I will be buying a tranquilizer, but it will be for the man who laughs merrily and leaves behind influenza for those who are really naughty.

Or maybe he just wanted to replace Rudolph ’cause my nose could beat his at the  moment.

But that’s beside the point. Santa if you are reading this know you are on my hit list. Right above Wally World, but below Eve–’cause I have a few words for her when I get to heaven due to Aunt Flo and child birth.

*Back to my lifetime supply of tissue and orange juice.

It’s Official, The World Is Coming to An End

I’m not sure if you know this about me, but I’m a Preacher’s Kid. My father is currently a pastor of a small church. My mother could probably quote the entire Bible without checking once.

So, growing up I’ve heard this quite often. The weather would be strange and the world most definitely will be coming to an end. The economy is doing bad and the world must be coming to the end. A transvestite would walk by and the world is coming to an end. I never believed these dire warnings. I’m probably not the biggest cynic, but I’d be a close runner up. Meteors would have to be falling out the sky, a plague of locust would have to descend on my fair city and a transvestite would have to be walking by for me to believe this at one point in time in my life.

While Cleaning, I Found Jimmy Hoffa

Thoughts I had today:

1. If you never see want something again, give it to your children.

2. So, that’s what the smell was?

3. A debate with myself on whether or not to get rid of nail polish that I’ve had since high school. Yes, sad isn’t it?

*sidenote, I kept it.*

4. To rephrase number #1… If I never want to see something again hide it from my children so they can’t find it.The amazing thing, I won’t ever find it either. Unless, while I’m cleaning.

5. I promise to keep my promise of never letting my house get this dirty again.

6. If you can’t remember when you bought it, don’t try the make-up on.

7. If you want free labor–with the expense of whining–have children.

8. No, wait. Scratch that. I found a preztel in the hair product cabinet.

9. If you didn’t know you had that make-up, can’t remember when you bought that make-up, don’t keep it. Or else you’ll end up with five eye-liners. Trust me. I have five eyeliners and can’t remember when I bought them. Nine times out of ten, I couldn’t find the last one and bought another. Yeah, that me.

10.Hmm, eye bandade patches–Arrgh-me-maties.

11. I’m no better than a five year old when it comes to playing with stuff you’ve found. Like I said, that’s me.

12. If you haven’t attacked the dishes and you need a place put the pens and spare change–champange flutes work just as well.

Cleaning. Jimmy Hoffa. Yeah. That’s my life. Welcome to my world.

No You Cannot Buy Tranquilizer’s On Amazon

E-bay maybe, but thankfully I didn’t have to find out. My children survived finals and so did I. It was touch and go there for a moment.

And, I’m totally not making any of my before the year end goals.

That’s okay. It’s finally hit me that I will no longer be worker at my job. And that I’ll be graduating next semester. And that my to-do list is getting longer each breath I take.

So, if you don’t hear from me, but of course you’ll hear from me I can’t seem to ever shut up on my blog, I’m dealing with stuff.

But first I have a glass of 2001 Chardonay calling to me.

My Children Have A Death Wish

Do they not see the crazy look in my eyes?

Do the words “I’m studying” mean anything?

Or better yet, “I’m insane at the moment and no jury would convict me,” not mean anything to them?

For the simple fact I’m sending them to bed early make no difference in their behavior.

I don’t need Nanny 911, I need a tranquilzer. For the love of jebus.

Okay, that is all.

*no children have been harmed in the making of this post*

Not Dead, But It Feels LIke It

Soooooo, it’s been quiet on my blog. You want to know why?

I did in fact resign from my job. Have to deal with that fall out.

Finals. Oh, my god. I only have one more semester of this B.S. called school. Until then I’m reciting discovery tools like my life depends on it. Well, at the moment it does ’cause I refuse to fail this class.

Did I mention I resigned from my job?

Writing what is that?

Stalking my e-mail? Who has time?

Did I mention I have finals?

So if you guys don’t hear from me until the New Year, I’m not dead. I’m training people to do the job I could do in my sleep *but no so much for others*, and memorizing 300 hundred pages of text, quizing myself on what I just read, and doing it again.

Oh, yeah, and feeding the kids.

And who has time for sleep.

Coffee. More. Coffee.

It’s so bad this is the extent of my promotional efforts:

Buy it. It’s in print now.

Did I mention I felt dead?

The Book Gods Must Have Smiled On Me

But I had to kiss a couple of frogs to get there. I mentioned I read The Pagan Stone and Nora didn’t disappoint. So I was feeling like they are still good books that make me turn off my internal editor. The next book I picked up, well, the author used the word eerily three times in a span of two pages. I wondered if her internal editor had taken leave. I placed the book back down.

NEXT!

Confessions of a Romance Author

I have no idea how long since I’ve last confessed, but this will be the If I had 26 days left to live edition…*foul language will be used liberally.*

I’d quit my job. I’d tell them how I really felt. I’d surf the internet until the day I left, I wouldn’t even minimize the screen and act like I was doing something they were paying me to do. I’d used all my vacation hours and sick days just for shits and giggles.

Bless Your Poor, Deluded Heart

Okay, I’ll readily admit I stalk my books. I have no shame when I say that. I type in “How Much You Want to Bet?” and “See Megan Run” just to see what new hits I might yield on a particular day. Sometimes I find new reviews, but lately I’ve been finding new outlets my books are offered. I came across this one.

32 bucks for a book that hasn’t even came out in print yet? Are you serious?!! What’s more astounding is that some poor sap will probably buy my book at this price. Listen, AMAZON, for goodness sakes even BARNES AND NOBLE will get you a cheaper price than this. I’m not that big of a writer for anyone to shell out more than the given price for my books. Seriously, if you are that hard up just write me and tell me how much you love me I will purchase the damn book for you. If it means printing out a hard copy and signing that’s what I’ll do, but DAMN folks. 32 bucks?!!! That’s insane. I wouldn’t shell that out for a Jenny Crusie. And I love JENNY CRUSIE. I heart that woman. I would be the first in line once she writes a stand alone novel. I would be that weirdo who will drag her kids out in the cold for her next stand alone novel likes it a Star Trek convention.

Okay, that is all.