What is love?

Love has many meanings. It can the pride a mother has for a child. It the strong physical and emotional bond between baby and mother. It is the beauty in a flower, sunset, mountain tops or dress. Love can also be the euphoria of tingle when a puppy nestles up under your neck.

Love is the desire to want to know more about someone. To stay up and talk all night. To read the books they love, listen to the music they enjoy. Watch the movies they like. It is looking forward to celebrating their birthday with them. It can be wanting that person to succeed so much that you are willing to sacrifice all for them.

Love can be the tenderness of the familiar. The sight of home. The comfort in your favorite chair after a long day. It can be the excitement after receiving a long desired gift.

Love can be touch. It is the bond of a child nursing on a mother. Love can be a hug from a teacher, pastor, friend, father, mother, sibling, or spouse. Love is the tenderness of ones lips touching your own. Love is physical. It is soft. Love is gentle never aggressive.

Love is respect, care, kindness, sadness, curiosity, happiness, tears of loneliness, tears of happiness, touch and desire to want to know all about the one you love.

When you no longer care to understand the other person. You no longer want to touch, kiss, or hug love is missing. Love that hurts is love that is gone. Love can only be taken away by betrayal.

There are many types of betrayal. The most popular sexual cheating, emotional cheating, drugs, alcohol abuse, lying, physical abuse, gambling, shopaholics, sabotage, and deceit. Betrayal can come from your lover, mother, father, uncle, aunt, grandmother, grandfather, teacher, doctor, friend, pastor, enemy, or more.

What if your lover is smart, has a great job, goes to church, comes home every night, and takes care of you, but constantly betrays you? Maybe your love for that person is so strong that you stay with that person no matter how often they betray you, even if they do it every single day.

Betrayal is the only thing that can poison your love for another. When one betrays you so much that your own self-worth is destroyed it is time to find a new love, a love for yourself.

Love for yourself is the greatest love of all. Be kind and gentle to yourself. Learn about yourself. Care for yourself. Celebrate yourself. Most of all, no matter how many people betray you, never betray yourself. You are one of a kind. Your love should be one of kind too.

It all stopped…

I was in my comfort zone of blogging. I was creating and following other writers, photographers, cartoonist, artist and more. Then I got the call my grandmother, my biggest cheerleader, died.  I was upset with her passing, but I celebrated her life. Things were fine until I returned home after the funeral. My siblings, my father and I got into a huge fight. I was hurt. The problem was the pain of my father’s neglect and my siblings demands reminded me why I ever became a writer, a graduate, a military member and why I left my home and to only return in ten years, when my mother died.

Now, you probably thinking, “Why did you stop writing?” Truth is, I didn’t know how to say what I just wrote. I was writing, but not the words that were heavy on my heart. I wanted to write about my characters, but I did not have the joy to do so. Then, about three weeks ago, I went to bed and had this dream. I dreamed there was a bald naked middle-aged man holding his balls standing in my closet. He had not one piece of hair on his round body; the only thing he wore was the expression of shame. I was terrified at first. I could not sleep through the night. Then, I began to wonder what the meaning was behind the naked man in my dream. Was there a naked shameful man running around my neighborhood standing in closets?  Was this an odd creepy fantasy? Am I going to have a naked man ghost move into my closet? Was this a sign I need a fashion makeover?

The weeks following, I kept thinking about my naked hairless visitor and I began to write technical reports. I wanted to go back to the fundamentals.  As I plugged away writing and researching, I had time to reflect on my previous post. I wondered how I could improve on my creative writing. That’s when I decided to enroll in a script writing class. I am not abandoning my blog or characters; instead, I looking for new doors to open. I am searching for my next chapter in life.  That’s when I began to understand who that mysterious, shameful naked man in my closet is. He is the birth of my new literary balls. I am no longer going to suffer in silence or shame or write with reservation. Now, I am in a new chapter in my life. I am opening new doors and exposing my new literary balls. I hope you continue to enjoy my life’s journey.

Welcome 2012! Goodbye 2011!

Dear 2012

I want to say welcome. I am not scared of you. I am scared of what you have in store for me. I am not an optimist, but I am tired of living in fear; fear of being alone, fear of death, fear of failure, fear of success and more. Living in fear is a horrible thing that can paralyze one from moving ahead. I refuse to be that person.

I want to say goodbye to 2011, thank you for what you have taught me. I learned that grief of death of someone close can come back to bite hard in your soul. To lose a parent can be hard, but it gets harder when the grief comes back. I learned a lot about my deceased mother. My sister convinced me that she did love me when my entire life she told me otherwise. I grew up as strong smart woman, because my teachers, friends, pastor and the entire small town I grew up in believed in me.

To the readers, I thank you for giving me the support, friendship and motivation to strive for my dream. I have been scribbling on paper for my entire life and for once, I have opened my craft to this blog. The empowerment I felt after my first posting was awesome.  For the first time I beat fear in the face.  I am not a whole person. I do still fear posting often. I just thank you for giving me the strength to come back and try a new story line. My wishes for 2012 are for me to continue to look fear in the face and fight, good health, a continued strong loving relationship with my own family, kindness for others and prosperity for all.

Thank You for the Liebster Blog award!

My heart goes to Scriptor Obscura for nominating me for the Liebster Blog Award.

Scriptor Obscura a poet and literary creator blessed me with the nomination for the Liebster Blog Award.  Thanks to all of you for taking the time and reading my works.  I am so grateful to have my stories honored with the Liebster Blog Award.  It was such a wonderful surprise to awake and find out that my creative stories and blog entries had been honored with such grace.  I hope to continue to entertain readers.  I will strive to enhance my blog. Thank you Scriptor Obscura for your kindness in awarding me with the Liebster Blog  Award.

Thank you!

The Liebster award is given to bloggers who have less than 200 followers, all in the spirit of fostering new connections. 

Liebster is a German word that means “dearest” or “beloved”, but it can also mean “favorite”, and the idea of the Liebster award is to bring attention to blogs with less than 200 followers. Please write a post about the award.  Then pass the award on to at least 5 (or more) bloggers.

The Rules are:

  1. Show your thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
  2. Reveal your top 5 (or more) picks for the award and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
  3. Post the award on your blog.
  4. Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the blogosphere – other bloggers.
  5. And, best of all – have fun and spread the karma.

I would like to nominate the following blogs

1. http://catlas.wordpress.com/

2. http://lifewithoutfear.wordpress.com/





The movie going experience

The movies are a great place for enjoyment. At the beginning of most movies are instructional advertisements like: no talking, cell phones off, no texting, and pick up your trash. The instructional advertisements give helpful tips so the entire view audience can enjoy the movie going experience. Well, I think they have forgotten a very important tip indeed, no pissing in your seat.

Last night, the movie theater was packed for the sell out showing of The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 1.   Arm to arm the audience sat in the dark swept up into the drama of Bella, Edward and Jacob. The movie is a little over halfway through the plot when a spoiler in the theater happens. Someone in the theater wets his or her pants, not only can you smell it but for a slight moment you can hear the urine pour down the floor. The heat from the body temperature of a sardine packed movie theater, combined with someone’s mishap really put a dent in the movie going experience. Life is not perfect, so movie going experiences sometimes will not be either. The victim here was not only the viewing audience, but could have been a child. Perhaps it was a child with a tiny little bladder that could not hold it any longer. The majority of the audience was not crazed teenagers; instead, they were children under the age of nine. I felt really bad for these small children that were being hushed, pulled and dragged into the theater by their mothers. The movie is great but my perception is that it is not really intended for small children.

The fact of the matter is if the pissing occurred from an adult with incontinence, fan crazed teenager or a potty training child I am certainly sure it was purely accidental. The smell of the urine kind of ruined the movie going experience for some. In the future, it would be nice to perhaps add that note to any new instructional advertisements at the beginning movies asking people to leave the theater to use the bathroom maybe it could save the embarrassment of a child or anyone else for that matter.

Hot Yoga

Four years ago I went to yoga twice a week. I had a short slender body.  Now, four years later and about forty pounds heavier I have decided to take yoga back into my life.  I am not slender. I look more like a marshmallow with toothpicks for legs.  Last year, I went to Hot Yoga for only a week and lost five pounds. It was the first time I ever melted fat like butter.  Desperate to get back in shape I declared I would now go to yoga at least once a week.  It should be easy, right?  I already know what all the poses are.  The only thing that should give me a smidgen of trouble might be my shoulder with some tendonitis.  I can handle it.

The first class I went to was the Yin Yoga class.  I took my mat; oops I forgot my water and towel.  No problem, they have everything I need for a minor cost.   I rent everything and walk into the studio.  Wow, it’s not bad in here.  I remember it being hotter last time.  Well, maybe all the time I spent in the sauna has better prepared me for this.

I walk to the empty spot in the back of the room wearing my socks. People stare at my feet.   I cannot help the fact I do not like touching my bare feet on the dirty ground. I lay down my mat with the towel on top.  Then I go to get a blanket and blocks.  I might need all the props I can get my hands on, since it has been so long since I have done this, or any bending for that matter.  I sit on my towel and take off my socks.  I place them neatly by my water.

 The entire class was about sitting poses doing hip-openers and passive backbends.  I was able to bend forward, but bending back was horrible.  I had to stack the blocks one on top of the other to lean back. I looked like I was in a recliner watching television. The instructor had to come ask me what I was doing. “I can’t seem to bend back very far so I’m using them as support.”  I said.  She smiles in agreement.  Then she is assist the man next to me that is doing much worse off than myself.  Towards the end of the class the instructor calls for the Hero pose (Vajrasana).  It is a sitting position.  You cross your right knee over the left, while moving feet away from the hips and palms on the soles of your feet.  Then your bend your upper body forward into the knees. It looks like a pretzel move where you try to kiss your a**.

The problem was I could not get into position so the instructor came over and started shoving blankets between my legs and open areas.  When she finished I looked like an idiot. I was tired, hot and trying to breathe through the pose.  After all the humiliation of barely achieving the poses I felt amazing. First class accomplished.

My second visit to yoga I planned to attend the Traditional Hot Yoga class.  It is a specific sequence of 26 poses performed with emphasis on Bikram’s alignment instruction.  I bring with me:  my mat, towel, water.  I arrive thirty minutes early.  The parking lot is full so it’s clear it must be really busy inside.  I decide to waste my time at Starbucks next door.  Hmmm Gingerbread Latte is back.  I can have a small.  I know I am dieting, but really it is just a small cup, plus I am about to burn some serious calories.   I order the small or whatever they call the size.  Then my phone rings.  I go outside to take the call. Blah, blah, blah…  I hang up.  I look at the time.  Shoot, I’ve only had three or four sips of this four dollar latte and now it’s time for class.  I put the drink in the car. Then I grab my things and go inside.  Wow! It’s packed. There are people with sweat dripping off them everywhere.  There is sweat on the floor.  There are beads of sweat hanging off the girl’s hair.  Gross all this sweat!  I can do this. I can do this. I’ll just keep my socks on till I get settled on my mat. That way I won’t get a stranger’s sweat on my feet.   

I enter the actual studio.  It’s hot!  Really hot!  I find a place in the back by another not so flexible looking man.  I spread out my mat.  Then I place my towel on top.  Then I sit on it.  I start to meditate: desert, sand, sun, cactus, sandpaper, OMG… I need water!  I take a drink of water.  Then I try to relax again.  The same types of things come to my mind: desert, sand, sun, cactus, fire, burning, torches, bonfires, heat, heat, heat…

Then I am interrupted by the instructor.  We go into the standing poses. I find the standing poses not so difficult.  I begin to look around the class through the mirror.  That way my eyes are moving, but not my head so no one knows I am looking at them.  I notice a puffy girl like me in the front wearing a white sports bra with nothing on top.  That’s not going to pretty for long.  A girl in the middle of the room reaches for her water. She takes a tiny sip.  The instructor yells out, “No water during the standing poses!  You’ll have a water break when I say so.”  Ouch, good thing I already drank a third of my bottle.  I am still refreshed. 

I am back to focusing on class, but then I notice something weird happening.  I’m crying?   There is a river flowing down my face.  I wipe it but it keeps coming back.  Then more water is spilling from everywhere.  I am not crying. I am sweating. I have sweat coming from my hair dripping into my eyes.  There is sweat going down my pants, bra, it’s everywhere.

The man next to me lies down on his mat.  He is clearly taking a break. The instructor states, “It’s only a 104 degrees and 75% humidity.”  I try to maintain my composure, yet doing so I throw-up in my mouth some of my favorite gingerbread latte. It does not taste good the second time around.  I reach for my water.  Damn it is over half gone.  I am just in the second part of this class no more than thirty minutes.  I have another hour to go.  Ok, I can do this little drinks, little drinks, little drinks. 

Few minutes later, back into the poses facing the front, I see the foreseen.  The puffy girl like me is sweating much worse.  She is soaking wet like someone threw her in a pool.  Her white sports bra is now more like clear-wrap for food.  I can see all her goodies, so can everyone else.  I move my eyes. 

Now we are in the seated poses.  I look at my neighbor. The man is still laying there.  I am not sure he is ok.  He might be passed out.  Then the instructor says, “If you feel faint keep your head down so you don’t get hurt.  The temperature now is 105 degrees with 66% humidity.” 

Sixty-six, man just one more six and that’s the devils number.  OMG, it is so hoooootttt… I am melting!  Ok, melting is good.  That’s why I came.  I am calming down when the man next to me farts really loud. PPPPPUUUURRRRPPPP!!  Then he runs out of the room.  I feel a little sorry for the man, because everyone in the room knew what was up, or in that case going down.  At that time, I throw up a little in my mouth again. The latte is worse the third time up.  I take a small sip of water.

I am still hanging in class. I reach for my bottle of water but this time it’s empty.  What the world!  Now what do I do?  I’m on fire.  I’m thirsty! I need water!  I look at my other neighbor.  She is lean, physically fit and more importantly she has water.  Then there is a girl to my front and she has two bottles of water.  She is sitting down facing me.  She is on break. Worse part is, she can like read my mind or see my empty bottle.  She slowly opens her bottle of ICE water and swigs on it.  The ice is making noise.  The cubes are clinging to the side of the container like a bell.  I want so badly to reach over and grab her second bottle of water.  Then I want to grab the other full bottle of water belonging to the woman in front of me.  Then I just want to run out of the room screaming, “Help I’m on fire!  Help!  Help! I’m dying!  AGGGGHHHHH!!!!”  That’s when the kind instructor opens the vent.  AAAHHHHH… Is it really air conditioning blowing on my face?  It feels amazing!  Just when I was about to give up, steal water and run out of the room screaming for help the instructor gave me not hope, but  air conditioning.  It was perfect timing. I did finish the class.

After changing, cooling off and really relaxing; I realized I did it. I finished my second hot yoga class.  I might have thrown up twice in my mouth, sweat tears from my hairline and everywhere else, but the truth is I’m on a journey.  I accomplished my second class. What kind of journey would it be without a few setbacks? Now for the third class I should be more prepared.  Perhaps I will skip the latte, bring a six pack of water, not look around the class room and try to prevent laughs at another’s gaseous expense.

The almost car buying experience

There is a lot of talk about consumer spending being down.  I want to tell you that one reason consumer  spending is down it is because customer service has diminished.  The facts are out there.  I don’t feel I’m the only person in the world experiencing horrible or less that adequate service.  I want to give you an example.

The other day my family and I were looking at new cars.  We called prior to going to establish a relationship with a sales associate.  I told him our name and clearly stated, “We are looking for a NEW CAR, under this price range.  We need a warranty for 50,000 miles.”

“Sure, I can certainly do that.” The sales associate responded.

Now at the dealership we are driving around in a used car with 48,000 miles that cost $50,000 and has a rancid odor.  Are you kidding me?

“How do you like the car?”

“What’s the smell?” asked our son.

The salesman ignores his question. Then he turns the air conditioning on full blast.  Then he begins to talk to my husband about the navigation system.

“Hmm, it’s nice, but I don’t like the fact it has 48,000 miles on it.  Is it under warranty?” I ask.

“Miles?  Ahhhhhhhh, that’s just a number.  Cars these days can be driven up to 200,000 with never having problems.  If you feel comfortable you can purchase a warranty.”

“Hmmm, Don’t the new cars have warranty?”

“New cars are under warranty for 50,000 miles.  All your maintenance is free on a new car.”

“Does this car have a warranty?”

“No, but for a few thousand you can buy one.”

“Is there anything included on this used car?”


“Where are the floor mats?”

“That will be negotiated between us men here.”

“So there isn’t any?”

“For a price anything can be added.”

We arrive back at the dealership after our ten minute drive. “Thanks for showing us the car.  We’re going to eat dinner now.” I stated with a smile.

“Just come inside for a minute so we can talk about the car.”  The sales man leads my husband off into the dark side of the dealership, into  a glass cubical with small modern leather chairs.

“Honey, can we talk for a minute?” I gingerly ask my spouse.

“I need him to come with me,” states the man.  My husband follows him. It is clearly evident I was not welcomed.  I sat in the lobby on the other side of the dealership.  I feverishly search for my phone to text my husband.  I want to warn him about this man’s intentions.  I also want to let him know how much I feel this car is a really bad investment.  My cell phone battery is dead.  The phone is completely shut down.  My child is playing Angry Birds on his. “Let me have your phone for a second.”

“No, you have one.”

“Mine is dead.  Let me use yours.”


“Give it to me please…” I begin to reach for it but he’s quick. He’s pulling away, turning around all while still playing the game.

“If you don’t give me your phone; I’m going to ground you from all your video games.”

“Fine, let me finish.”

“Noooo, I need it now. I don’t want dad to buy the car.”  As I finish the statement my husband is walking towards me. Phew he didn’t buy the car.

“I need my wallet.”

“No, no you don’t.”


“I don’t want the car.”

“I thought you wanted the car.  I was doing this for you.”

“Well, the salesman would not give me a chance to tell you that I didn’t want it. It’s old, used, smells bad, over priced and not under warranty.”

“Then  go tell him we don’t want the car.  I was about to sign some papers.”

I walked over the small glass desk with leather chairs, “I’m  sorry but you clearly misunderstood our intentions.  I told you earlier we were coming to look for  a NEW CAR, with warranty and under $X.  This car you are trying to sell my husband does not qualify for any of  those things.  You have multiple new cars that do meet our requirements, but yet you never showed them to us.  I also told you we had not  looked at any other cars.  In the event we had found a car we liked we would have not bought it tonight without thinking about it first.”

The man looked at me with a shocked expression.  He extended his hand. “It was nice working with you folks.  I wish you great luck in the future.”

My husband, son and I went to dinner.  We were sitting at the table having a great meal, talking about the car. “So, you didn’t like the car?” He ask me.

“The car is nice if it’s free, but it’s not.  It’s over our budget, old and with 48,000 miles.”

“I know.  I thought it  was crazy we were looking at used cars.  Why was he showing us used cars when they were so many new cars in our price range?”

“I wish you would have spoken up.”

“I tried.  The man kept talking or started talking each time I tried to speak.”

“You could have just said what you said when we finally left.  In the future just yell  or something like you do when we’re home and I mess things up.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“Nice isn’t going to cut it when we’re buying a car.”

Our son interjects, “So you’re giving mom permission to be rude in public?”


“That’s so cool.”

We laughed and finished dinner.  We drove back home in our old car enjoying  each other’s company.  It might have been  a bad almost car buying experience, but at least we had each other to laugh with  about it afterwards.

My genre for NaNo is thriller

Here it is six in the morning and I’m up blogging.  Truth is I just could not sleep anymore.  Yesterday, while handing out candy during trick-or-treat I signed up for NaNo, National Novel Writing Month.  I woke up early because I wanted to gather some clue as to what I would write.  Last night when I joined I really thought I wanted to write a comedy.  Yet, as I thought about plot the only thing that came to my mind was a thriller.  Before this month, I had never written a thriller.  I always wrote romance and I finished a coming of age novel.

Writing my first thriller short story was a very eye-opening experience for me.  I found that I actually had located uncharted creativity.  As people and writers we tend to stay in our comfort zones.  The moment I had to plot out my thriller I was definitely outside my comfort zone.  Though being out of my comfort zone made me put together a very impressive short story, or so I believed.  I entered it into a writing contest for Writer’s Digest.

Well, time is crucial so I best go and work on my character sketches. Before long I will have to submit my first 2,000 words of my new thriller for NaNo.


Happy Halloween! Yes today is Halloween! I am pondering the thought of participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNo). Then as a sat drinking my coffee I learned the novel and recent movie ‘Water For Elephants’ was written as a rough draft during NaNo. Wow! What a great way to inspire budding writers like myself. I have noticed that during deadlines for contests I have found my creativity to be higher.

Well today is a great day to take a break and just enjoy the holiday. I have the rest of the day to think about participating in NaNo.

Daddy is locked out

“Vern, are you at work?”

“Yes daddy.  I answered the phone here. What do you need?”

“Nothing sweetheart.  Listen, I think I’ll ride the bus and come visit you.”

“That’s not a good idea. The bus schedule can be confusing.  I’m busy here.  Just stay home.  We can go somewhere after work.  Oh, maybe we can go eat at the diner tonight.”

“No, no I’m coming. Don’t leave.”

“No, no you’re not.”

“I have to.”

“Why do you have to ride the bus down here when you are perfectly safe at home?”

“Because I’m not”

“Oh my gosh! Was there a fire, a break in? Did the carbon monoxide alarm go off?  Did the roof collapse?”

“Vern, Vern!  No it was none of that”

“Then why are you not home?”

“I went outside to rake leaves in the back.  I locked the front door like you always say.  Then while I was out raking the wind blew through the kitchen window shutting the back door.  Now the back door was locked too.  So, I went back to the shed to get the spare key, but the wind had slammed it closed too.  That’s when I call Sally our neighbor.  She could not hear me on my cell phone so she came outside to talk to me.  There she was walking over to our yard when her goat snuck into her house and somehow shut the door.”


“I know. I know.  Here Sally and I stood trying to figure this out.  She’s only wearing her nightgown.  I then thought I would just take a taxi there, but I forgot I had left my wallet in your car. Sally offered to take me in her car, but the spare key was missing.  She called her husband.  He had it.  The car was blocking his truck this morning.  After he moved it, he was running late to work so he kept.”

“Did you try to call one of the other neighbors?”

“Well, no not really.  Let’s say Mrs. Winters does not think the best of me or Sally.”


“Well the small window in the kitchen was still open.  I thought I would lift Sally into the window, so she could unlock the door, because we have a spare key to her house. So there I was lifting Sally on the back porch into the kitchen window when the wind gust came up and blew her nightgown over her head.  Mrs. Winters was watching by now.  Here I am holding on to Sally’s naked legs with her bare bum showing in the most awkward position.”

“Oh my gosh! Did she call the police?”

“No, no, that would have probably been the best thing to happen to me.”


“Because when I lifted Sally up apparently she had stepped into goat poo”

“Goat poo?”

“Crap!  Goat crap!  Now, Sally is crying on her porch locked out of her house with a goat inside embarrassed because she was seen naked.  She’s worried that Mrs. Winters is going to tell her husband and I’m standing here with goat poop on my shirt and pants, without money locked out of this house.”

“Daddy if you want me to come home just ask me to.”

“Vern, can you please come help me?”

“Yes daddy. I’m on my way.”