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Friday, December 24, 2010

My mini-meltdown

I was leaving work heading out to buy my son a laptop for Christmas. Loneliness washed over me like summer rain. I was sad and it took me a minute to realize why.  I had a good day at work. Shit, I’ve got a job, a true blessing to say the least. I’m able to support myself and my son. I’m spending Christmas with my fam. I’m losing weight. I’m writing good shit.
What the hell is up?????

I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was driving on 95 heading south to my comfy bed and I was crying like a little girl, snot and everything.

I’ve been single for over a year, happily single, might I add. I’ve been figuring out my life, getting to know Julie, having one hell of a time, and then I started dating. #whythefuckdidIdothat?????

I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. I’m not strong enough in myself to date a man. I realized it and stopped. I want to be the woman I dreamed about when I was knee high to a grasshopper. I want to love myself with reckless abandon. I am well on my way to being my best me so again…
Why the hell am I sobbing on 95? Where the hell is this loneliness coming from? Please God, Oh God, take this pain away. (He did, by the way, the tears and the pain was gone by the time I reached my exit, and I settled into a quiet place of reflection.)
I was married twice. The first was really bad. I was abused, neglected and betrayed. The second was really good. I found out that love could be sweet, I began to grow up, but we grew apart. I left my second marriage with a pain heavy enough to sink a battleship. He was a sweet man, but he stopped loving me, and I couldn’t stay in a marriage without love.

So what the hell is up?
I think it is growing pains and not so much loneliness.  There was a time in my life that I only recognized romantic love. If I didn’t have romance, well I didn’t have a damn thing. Now I can appreciate love in its many forms, and I am truly happy about that! (my son refused to let me wrap his laptop up. His smile was priceless!)
I think the tears were for the woman I was, and the uncertainty (however small) to the woman I am becoming, because they are so vastly different.
I’ve decided to make some more changes. I am a work in progress. I get that now. I am blessed beyond measure. I get that as well.

And, sometimes, out of nowhere, I cry on I95.

Until next time

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Clubtwentyone BookClub

Three Years ago I met the CEO of CTB at “As The Page Turns” Christmas party in Philly. I was on the panel, and scared out of my mind. I did my little spiel about my debut novel, Strawberry Mansion. I waited politely as the other panel authors spoke in turn, and I looked at the door longingly and often (I told you I was scared!)


The members of CTB were the first at my table to buy books. They were awesome and made me feel welcomed. After about five minutes of chatting with them I no longer wanted to head for the hills. They asked a lot of questions and invited me down to diner. I was so friggen happy and excited you’d think I was invited to the White House or something. I lived in Harrisburg at the time and my literary grind was on full tilt. I brought all the members little gifts and hit the road. Once I sat down with these ladies I knew they were special, and I knew I wanted to be apart of their club! (They fed me…and then couldn’t get rid of me.)

We’ve been tight ever since.

This note is a small thank you. I am honored to be a member of this group of wildly talented, fiercely loyal, and extremely silly, ladies. Tonight I hang out with my sisters at the place where it all started

I love you guys

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Pimping out my gift…

For a very long time I’d lost the joy of writing. It became a job and I treated it as such. A way to get paid nothing more, nothing less.  I can’t tell you exactly when it happened. I can tell you that it totally sucked ass.
I remember dreaming of fame and fortune thinking that the novel I was writing was going to change my life for ever. That wasn’t the problem; mind you, all writers day dream. It was when the paper chase became the focus of my writing, the joy left. I committed a cardinal sin. I wrote with the bottom line in mind.
The stories became harder to jot down. The characters seemed fake imitations of people, and I started to dislike writing.

When I first started writing, I wrote of witches, alien planets, and multiple dimensions. It was horrible, but I loved it. I wrote all the time, poetry, plays, and songs, whatever. I was happy and talented and that was enough. I am slowly getting back to that place. I no longer see the money in it. The joy is returning. The characters are real. The writing feels like play again.

And I am happy. I think I'll take a writing class or two. I need to improve on my basic grammar skills. I do want to be the very best writer that I can possibly be.

Until next time

Monday, December 6, 2010

Why I smile

My heart smiles at the simple things. It’s so easy to get caught up by bullshit. Small stuff turns into to big stuff and before you know it, you’re drowning in a sea of stress with no clear view of happy in sight.

I’ve found that if you should pause and count your blessings, you will find the quickest way to joy!

I’ll start…

The little things, all extremely corny, give me the greatest joy in the world. My son hugs me everyday. I don’t ask him, I just show up, and I get a hug. I have coffee with my mom every morning. We talk, really talk, and that’s better than sliced bread. I have a healthy facebook addiction where I connect with some of the coolest people on the planet! I like my job. I have fun there. The people are cool, the pay is fair, and every so often we find an excuse to have a party. Priceless.

I am loved. I am a writer. I am 33 years old and coming into my own well.

Everything else is way to small to compare.

Beach B-day bash... last year!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

I don't feel like

doing a damn thing today. My get up and go has got up and left and I'm just not feeling it. I went to bed last night with a clear agenda for the next day, and I was very optimistic about getting some ish done. First and foremost, I was going to write. Three hours of solid writing. (Not likely since it took me a couple of hours to figure out a topic for today's blog). Next, thirty dirty minutes at the gym (I DON"T WANT TO FRIGGEN GO)! Last, but definitely not least, I'm scheduled to go into work this evening. (I feel a case of the 8 hr flu coming on.)

As you can see had a full day planned and I was excited. WTF happened???? Well, I am tired, dog tired. I work a lot. I mean I pick cotton on the back forty singing old Negro spirituals almost every damn day. I currently suffer from a wicked mix of... writer's block, and procrastination. Add to that a healthy addiction to all things bejeweled and you get Julia doing nothing in front of the pc all day long.

The first step of recovery is admitting you have a problem... (now what???)

Blank stare

Well, I guess, and this is purely conjecture, that the second step involves doing something about it.

That blows

 Off to the gym...

Until next time

Work From Home They Said with John H. Howard

I am a very stubborn and impulsive person. I always have been, and I probably always will be. And, although these attributes serve me w...