Archive for the ‘life’ Category

13 Reasons I’m eating chocolate

Ok, I don’t allow myself these ranting-type raves very often *cough* but it’s been one hellava day so here goes:

Drawing a blank on new story ideas. Make that good new story ideas.. ones that have any chance at all of selling.

Wondering if I did start, could I finish? Will I even have time?

My house is a mess. I can’t think in a messy house and  tomorrow I’ll paint my den. Why? That’s the way my brain is working folks.

Why do I expect myself to be ‘normal’ so soon?

Because I have no other choice.

Black and blue from beating myself up.

Finally heard back from the agent who had the last full: No go. That’s a complete strike out


No luck finding a job.

Even received a ‘no thanks’ from the one I thought was a given.

You can only take so much rejection in so little time before you start feeling rejected.

Rejection sucks.

Men really, really suck

                   ~ Chocolate doesn’t.

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What is happiness? In his book The Nature of Happiness, Desmond Morris defines it as transient feeling of joy. And if you think about it, he has a point. It is an excellent book by the way, it can be found on Amazon. With this viewpoint, the bad things that happen are just precursors and even necessary to obtaining the state of happiness.
I recently read a book recommended to me by D2; now I’ll read anything D2 recommends as she doesn’t read often; this book was good. She couldn’t even put it down. It was about an angry teen age boy. In his (forced) quest to understand himself and the world around him, he was isolated on an Alaskan island with only an old Tlingit Indian for occasional company. The Indian told him that happiness was a choice, a conscious choice you must make everyday. The book is called Touching Spirit Bear and also found Amazon.
I’ve always known if you focus on the miserable, you’ll be miserable and so I’ve try, please read TRY, to focus on what is good, what enriches my life.
And for me it often comes down to the little things, the every day things. For instance, opening a jar of peanut for the first time makes me smile. Why? I don’t know. Does it matter? Running my hand through a bowl of M&M’s… I smile and feel a bit more relaxed just thinking about it. I am a bit tactile. Bringing home a stack of library books makes me happy. And is there anything more wonderful than a daffodil in spring?

Please, I am not a pollyanna by any definition. In fact, I’m more of a pessimist, I figure if you don’t hope for the best, when you don’t get it at least you’re not disappointed. : )
But, if I spend my days appreciating those little happy things, the dishes, the cluttered house, the distractions, the fighting children, rejection letters, bills; none of it has as much power to make me not happy.  And the most interesting thing about this. If you take the time to think about what makes you happy, you’ll find you’re already happier. And reading what makes someone else happy? It inspires your own. So Please, let me know what little things make you smile throughout the day. There is no right or wrong answer. And in telling your\’s, you may help someone else smile too.


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I bought a coffee pot today. It was a necessary purchase. You see, yesterday morning I spooned in the coffee, poured in the water, turned the pot on—the little light turned green—but nothing happened. No coffee. This is enough to induce pandemonium in my life. I really can’t live without the dark brew. I fully confess that I am an addict. There have been times in my life where I would have mainlined the stuff if I could have.

I drink it with milk, I drink frou frou coffee. I drink it black. I have been known to wake up in the morning and drink two day old coffee because I can’t wait for a new pot brew before my first cup. But I swear that’s as far as I go. I do have some dignity. And yes, that means one day old coffee is common. If you make a new pot in the afternoon, are you just going to dump all that perfectly good coffee the next morning? Are you getting the idea? I’m a bit of a coffee gourmand. Okay, I admit, D1 and I call it something a little more base but you might not share my sense of humor.

My mother, bless her soul, believed coffee would calm an active child and yes, she put coffee in my bottle. I’ve been an addict for many, many years.

Yesterday, I heated water in the microwave and stood at the coffeepot pouring the hot water slowly over the grounds. Slowly because, you know, it has to mix. Believe it or not, it was a decent pot of coffee. Not that it matters much with me.

So today I went out and bought a coffee pot. My second to last coffee pot was a decent machine. It had a stainless steel pot that was necessary because at the time D4 decided to make grandma coffee and dropped the prior pot in the sink. (I’d had prior pot for two years.) But no more glass, thank you. I paid a lot for that machine. It lasted 9 months. The last machine I bought just before Christmas. It was on sale. Twenty bucks. It lasted less than four months.

Today at Target, after I salivated over the deluxe machines, I compared the cheaper models. They had a coffee pot for eight dollars. Yes, eight dollars. What kind of coffee does an eight dollar machine make?

Theoretically, they all work the same right? And after plunking down another eight hundred dollars toward my dentist’s children’s college education, I’m feeling a bit of skinflint, okay? Even more than usual. The pot is glass, but I’ve been transferring the brewed coffee to my nifty stainless steel pot anyway. (It stays hot and tastes better longer) The biggest problem I had with it was it was white. I don’t know why I hate white coffee makers. Maybe it’s something in my childhood I’m suppressing, or maybe it’s because I hate coffee stains, but either way, I hate white coffee makers. And eight dollars? Something must be wrong with it, right?

I’ll let you know. Yes, I bought it. It seemed wrong somehow…. like I should have to pay more for my addiction. But I figure, if you follow the curve, this coffee pot will last about 3 months, tops and then we’ll revisit the issue.

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I could be…

The sky is grey as metal and low enough to touch. The only thing colder than my hands are my feet. It’s a day for curling up under a blanket with a perpetually hot, and full, (one can dream) cup of coffee and a good book. I even have a pretty good book to read. Temptation. I was never any good at it. There are so many things I should be doing. You see, the house is still Thanksgiving vacation cluttered (any idea how much mess 4 children make in a week?) I’ve not one, but two stories to work on, come to think of it, I’ve a treadmill gathering dust in a corner and a Tai Chi DVD I need to start practicing again—who knew there were so many ways to breathe?—either would help with that end of year expansion that tends to happen around the waist-line and running, or walking fast, tends to inspire me to write. Weird, I know.  I can not see the surface of my desk and despite the saying, my messy desk doesn’t indicate a creative mind, it’s a sign that I’ve too many things to do and when I have too many things to do, I tend to do parts of each and all of nothing. Sigh. Like I said, it’s a day for staying in your pajamas all day, curling up and daydreaming. I’ll settle for another game of spider solitaire and then off to cook dinner.

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