The story of how my life was changed forever.

Also known as the story of how I told many stories in a single post (mostly parenthetically).


Yesterday my life was transformed by a very small thing that will affect me in a very big way.  Let me tell you a story. 

My husband,  the wonderful and amazing Neal (he's a life changing story in and of himself), loves to go to the movies.  We are not one of those couples that gets all creative on our date nights.  We go to dinner and a movie.  It's very predictable, but also quite relaxing and the best place for people of the movie-popcorn-loving persuasion (also another interesting story, consisting of the fact that Neal would pay movie popcorn prices to have movie popcorn to watch a video rental at home.  Okay, that's pretty much the whole story.). 

Anyway, I digress.  Here's the point.  I spend a lot of time at movies.  This means that I spend a lot of time in movie bathrooms.  It's embarassing to admit, but it's true.  The four or five glasses of water I drink at dinner always have an effect on me (sometime more than once, my record is five times in the same movie).  It's bizarre, but I have the world's smallest bladder.  You would think I would learn not to drink so much at dinner, but it's kind of a compulsion, and I don't realize I'm doing it (dang, addictive, restaurant tap water!). 

The result of all this is that I inevitable miss the life-changing, gut-wrenching, tear-jerking, climax of the movie, or worse, I miss the kiss! It's very annoying and it makes me want the $10.50 (well $8.50 now that we're in the military) back that I paid to use the movie theater bathrooms and see all the slow parts of their movies.  It's so not worth the money. 

Well, anyone who has spent any amount of time with me knows how much money I spend for the privilege of using a movie theater bathroom while they actually watch a movie.   This is the case with my dear friend Kasieand her husband Jared.  Neal and I have seen more movies with those two than anyone else on the face of the planet.  They know the routine: sit near the isle on the side with a door, laugh at Candi every time she has to go in and out of the theater, etc, etc.

So the other day Jared, being the thoughtful guy that he is (and never one to miss the opportunity to make himself laugh) gives me the address to this revolutionary internet site he's discovered, www. runpee.com  

No, I discovered,  this is not a joke.  It is a real site (complete with yellow headings and letters that dance).  But the point is it tells you when to go to the bathroom and what you're going to miss! And it's always a boring part and sometimes it has multiple options and if you have an i-phone you can set a timer and it alerts you with a beep that it's time to go!! LIFE. CHANGING.

So that's the story of how my life was forever changed. I didn't say it would be a good one. Now excuse me please... I need to use the WC.

The joy of creating

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I’ve noticed that every writer classifies their writing a bit differently.  It may be a job, an academic pursuit, a hobby, an artistic outlet, or any combination of these things.  For me writing is still a somewhat relaxing activity, though as I become more dedicated and set higher standards for myself it is becoming more work.  

That’s not necessarily a bad thing.  There is a lot of satisfaction that comes from working hard and seeing your efforts rewarded in the form of a thick manuscript.  But I do find that I still need a secondary hobby, something that is purely for the love of doing it.  For me that that is often flower arranging.  I usually just make arrangement for my home or my friends and family.  Occasionally I help out with events (like my sister's wedding) but I try not to make it a job.

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I love flowers.  They’re so… organic.  Even pictures of them make me happy (except when they're on wallpaper). I just love cutting them from the garden (especially if it’s my garden).  I love taking them in their thorny, twisty, wild state and creating order out of the chaos.  I love using things that are not typically associated with bouquets and throwing them into the mix. 

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  It’s a bit like writing in that there are base core materials and principles for good flower arranging, but how you use them for any given arrangement will vary from person to person.  And even if you use the same elements no two bouquets ever look the exactly the same.  The flowers and hands that craft them are too unique.   

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I think it’s a good idea to have sources of enjoyment and relaxation outside of writing.   I personally need other artistic outlets.  I know may of you enjoy photography, drawing, painting, music and any number of other pursuits.  So I’m curious do you consider writing a hobby, a job, a source of enjoyment?  And what do you consider your other pursuits?  Do they help you relax?  Are they your job and writing is your hobby? Is writing your job?  Can it be both a hobby and a job?

Bad Sun!



I'm not feeling too hot after a day at the pool.  The sun is not generally my friend.  So to combat a headache and a mild case of the blues I sent my husband to Buffalo Wild Wings on the recommendation of a local (I've never tried their food).  I'm growing concerned that food is replacing friends (see my last post for further proof of my theory).  Blaaaaaaaahhhhhh!! I just felt like saying that.

I had a break through! Thanks Meijers



For those of you who live on the west coast you may not have heard of Meijers.  I know I hadn't until I moved out here to Ohio.  It's a Walmartesque store, but a bit nicer if you ask me.  Anyway there's one right down the road from me, and I recently discovered it has the best store-brand ice cream!  Their mint moose tracks is inspirational! (Right now I have the desire to say that it is LITERALLY inspirational, but since one of my pet peeves is the incorrect use of the word literally, I will refrain.) 

So my second book is coming along swimmingly at about forty-thousand words (after two months of not writing that is quite good for me).  I've also felt inspired with a new idea that I love!  I want so badly to write it, but with one book in a never ending edit and another two-thirds done, it really wouldn't be a good idea to do more than outline it for now. 

When the time actually does come to sit down and pound it out, you can be sure there will be a red plastic cup full of mint moose tracks next to me.  I have no doubt it will be the fastest book I've ever written, and I'll only have to gain twenty or so pounds to do it.  (I'm estimating, of course. It would be silly to claim that I could actually know how much I might gain during a set sedentary period full of mass consumptions of delicious dairy treats.)