Keep America Beautiful 2.0

It was Christmas Eve, and I was driving with my brother and two teenagers. I stopped at the drive thru to get a magical diet coke from McDonalds. As any connoisseur of diet soda knows…….a fountain soda is the best option and the diet cokes at McD’s are perfect….the perfect mix of syrup and CO2. Then the big straw……so, I can get more to my mouth quicker…..add to that the $1.00 price tag for a large…..magic. While in the drive thru, my brother (he is older) tossed his empty soda can out the window into the bushes.  

“What? What are you doing? Littering…… in front of the kids? Dude…..”

“No problem” he replied……”some can collector will be by soon…..it’s not like real litter…..” We went back and forth for a few minutes when I said…….”you know what? I don’t litter…….because of the crying Indian.” He smiled, instantly going back. Way back. The teenagers, who hate being left out, are like “what?”

So, I told my kids the story of the commercial (it was actually a PSA). How the Indian was dressed like an Indian…headdress, Indian “costume”, a feather……and as I am describing it I am realizing how horribly horribly racist and stereotypical and just plain wrong it was. And, I started to laugh….until tears came out of my eyes.     The whole time teen-aged girl is like, “That is so wrong. That is not funny mom. That is racist….blah blah” like only a 15 year old know-it-all-can. And, now I can’t stop laughing…because it is all so ridiculous. Especially when I got to the part about the car driving by, throwing trash on the Indian. Causing him to shed a single tear…… I am trying to describe the commercial…but, it keeps getting worse and worse. Well, it keeps getting funnier and funnier.

By now…we were home and friends were over and they wanted to know what was so funny….because I had reached that point of no return….where I was just going to laugh until I calmed down…..breathe…….they are younger than I and never saw that PSA…so we looked it up online…….(where I discovered it was a PSA) and it starts out with the Indian rowing a canoe……so, now I am not able to breathe again I am laughing so hard….because I don’t think they believed me…..

Kids still not laughing.  All of the adults laughing.  Teenager still ranting “that is so wrong…”

Yes. It is. Racism is not funny. Stereotyping is not funny. The fact that anyone conceived that commercial and it was shown over and over AAAANNNNDDDDD everyone thought it was okay….is not funny “haha” but, funny like……”the world is flat” funny. Okay….that isn’t very funny.  But, this still tickles me.  Maybe the expression on my kids faces? Mostly it was so preposterous…..We have come so far.

I wrote this piece weeks ago, but I guess I knew it wasn’t finished. Since then, I have seen the “crying Indian” being discussed on on Friends…..a TV show same teenagers mentioned above are obsessed with.  And, recently someone posted it on FB.  Mentioning how much they loved that commercial and wondering why they didn’t show it anymore. So, I piped in….”racist, canoe, feather…..”  The responses I received to that were unpleasant. And they neglected to see the racism……OMG really?  Aren’t we the same people who are trying to decide if Washington should rename their team? People are funny. And, after I laugh, I write about it. Lucky you.

Thanks James Corden!

George Michael inspired Carpool Karaoke with James Corden? Fantastic!  I guess I am still writing about the musical losses in 2016. I just finished reading this article where the late night funny man and “driver” of mini car concerts writes about his love for George Michael and tells how George inspired his Carpool Karaoke.  I have been enjoying those videos. They remind me of the Bohemian Rhapsody scene in Wayne’s World….this is one of the best movie music scenes ever….it is truly iconic….I see it in my head whenever I hear the song. If you have not seen it, check it out on YouTube.

I love this. I love that he shared it and that he was able to share with George how impactful his music was to him. Truth is……we almost never know in what ways and to what lengths we influence other people. Or, have an influence on their lives. Many years ago, my dad used to plan these huge month-long trips to a tropical place.  He would reserve a bunch of rooms using RCI benefits and invite friends and family. There was always a “family” week…..where my sibs and close family friends descended for a week of fun and relaxation. The trips were fantastic….and, very loosely organized. We tried to have one big dinner with everyone during the week. Dad would always make a toast thanking everyone for coming because “we don’t know who will be here next year”.  And, he was right. Over the years we lost some people.  I think my dad’s influence made me change my ways. I vowed from that time forward that if someone impacted me in a positive way (especially if it was “change my life” impact)…..I would let them know.  Thank them for how they impacted me.

Truth is, I don’t think we can ever measure the impact people and places can have on our lives. And, music…..so universal, so individual. Music is the thread by which my life is stitched together……before drugs, alcohol, sex, exercise or anything else….when I need to celebrate or grieve….music is the first thing I think of to get me through.  Sad?  Play “I’ve Got a Feeling”  or “Spreading the Disease” Queensryche or “Boys are Back in Town”  by Thin Lizzy. While these might not seem like “happy” songs…..they sure make me smile.

What songs make me happy? Hard to pinpoint. There are songs that just make me bounce. Songs I associate with people or events that make me happy.  I could come up with a playlist for just about any mood or feel. And, I have. A blog for another day.

Music isn’t my “best friend”….but, it is my constant companion. Styx helped me through the angst of middle school. AC/DC, Aerosmith, Tom Petty, Golden Earring, and Joe Jackson got me through high school. Motley Crue, GNR, and live rock bars got me through college. Matchbox 20 and No Doubt….baby years. Pink, Metallica now….I could go on and on……but, I will spare you.

Many of us are influenced/impacted by the music in our lives.  Some more than others.  I love that James Corden celebrates music, his love for musicians and their impact on his life.

Thanks, James!

 

Grandmas – RUFKM?

Every year after Christmas and before the 2nd weekend of January, 3 friends and I get together for breakfast and shopping in the little town of Truckee.  3 of us drive ½ hour one way. The other comes 30 minutes from the opposite direction. We meet and have a mimosa breakfast filled with love, joy, and relief that the holidays are over. Truckee is a cute little town with quaint little shops. We go mostly for the 50% Christmas decorations and to hang out a bit after the bustle of the holidays.  Of the 3 in our car…..2 of us have been friends since high school and the 3rd is the sister of the one we are meeting. Get it? We all have kids.  Mine are still in school. My friend from high school has 2 recent college graduates who are single. And….the other 2 are or soon will be Grandmas.

I realized on January 1…no trip had been planned.  Weird. I wondered why? One friend has a 2 month old grand baby and the other is going to be a grandma early March. So…I texted my high school friend (and, it is when I say things like “I texted my friend” that I still feel young) and said…..

“Hey, did I miss the plan?”

“No. I don’t think there is a plan.”

I thought about it. Oh….I texted her…..”I was just thinking that there wasn’t a plan because two of our friends are too occupied with being grandmas.”

OUR. FRIENDS. ARE. GRANDMAS.

When the fuck did that happen?  And, I mean….when the fuck did that happen.  One minute I am so young and so thin and so energetic I can work a physical job for 40 hours a week while going to college full time….and still go out and bang my head all night. Smoking and drinking the entire way.  Now, I wake up tired. One minute I am too selfish to take care of a plant. And now I take care of a family.  And dogs. And I am a grandma. Well…not officially.  But, I could be. And my friends are. And. What the fuck?

At one time all my friends were dating and partying in college. Then all of my friends were getting married. Then all my friends were spitting out kids, buying houses;  then getting divorced and now grandmas?  The only thing left is death…….

I know how old I am (believe me, I know….I feel it) I know that I am old enough to have grandkids. I know my friends have grandkids…..I don’t even mind that they are grandmas.  But, I am at the stage where all of my friends are grandmas.  Grandmas. Which means…..you know. I look like a Grandma too. And, I hang out with grandmas (okay…not really….only one grandma friend do I see regularly….because she (like me) likes to go out occasionally…explore new things.  The other people I hang out with are younger……or not yet Grandmas. I feel like I’m invisible already (thanks, motherhood and marriage) and, now…..now…..I’m in the grandma group?

There is nothing even remotely hip and cool about Grandmas.

Not sure if I should knit something or put on my thigh high boots and see if I can get a senior discount at my fave watering hole on a glass of wine……..FUCK……

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2017!!!

Happy New Year!! 2016 had some tough moments……..but, for me, the bloodshed started in early December, 2015 with the death of Scott Weiland.  My friend and I discussed our shock at the time. His death was unexpected, but not surprising, really.  We discussed how you never really know anything. All the platitudes are true…..”you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone, only the good die young, the future is not promised, each day is a gift”…blah, blah…..I could go on…but, you get it. Anyway….it seemed like only a few days later when Lemmy died. That hurt too. We knew he was sick….just hoped he would dominate it like he dominated metal. And, then in early 2016…Bowie….okay….now it was starting to feel personal…my childhood was dying.  Okay….not really…..how can I explain?  Let’s see….if I were the type of person to record meaningful personal life events on my body…..I would have tats with all of these people for one reason or another. (Of course, the first one would have been of Andy Gibb….but, I digress.)

I know it is not rational to mourn the loss of people you don’t know….but, each of these people touched me in some way that I found significant.  We grew up together.  Or, it felt like we had. So…while I did not cry or attend funerals or memorials….I was sad. Noticeably sad. And, then …Glenn Frey.  RUFKM?  The Eagles is the one band to share one thing……my mother, my daughter and I are all big fans. I remember long road trips with my mom listening to that greatest hits 8 – track over and over and over…..(which is a joke, because 8 – tracks never ended or stopped……more digression.)

So…..this was getting ridiculous.  ( I am not going to go through the whole list…so, stick with me……) The Eagles were on my bucket list. I had missed their most recent tour due to funds and a promise to “go no matter what” next tour.  Well, damn. Not sure if they would tour or not now……but, I am kind of a purist.  You need to have the essence of the band there…..(at the very least) or I won’t go. The Eagles are not the Eagles without Glenn Frey. This made me sad and angry (at people, money, divorce, courts, etc) and not sure what else. It is at this precise moment in time that I find myself at some silent fundraising auction.  And, there on the table is a guitar….signed by most of the Eagles (Okay….more purist…no Randy Meisner….now I have ventured into music minutiae for most of you….) and NOBODY is bidding on it. I have had 2 super strong but very tasty drinks on an empty stomach.  I think it is my job to start the bidding….just to get it rolling…but, surely…..someone will outbid my tiny little $1800 in order to own this piece of American history?  Surely.  

Ha!  I am definitely not Shirley. Nobody outbid me.  And, I didn’t care. I missed their concert dammit…I was getting the damn guitar…because NOBODY OUTBID ME!!! (I don’t have $1800 laying around to buy a $200 guitar with sharpie marks on it. I don’t have $18 laying around for the same thing.) I had buyer’s remorse for a little bit….but, I really got to thinking……..I could have gone to the show and taken my mom and daughter for less than I paid for that damn guitar.  Which would have been great for many reasons but, mostly because my Mom has passed since.

So…….I decided.  Life is short. Enjoy it. Eat dessert first……blah blah….Okay really…..if there is something I want…..I spend a little time evaluating my level of want, cost, etc.  If I will regret not going…then, I need to bite the bullet and find a way to make it happen (whatever it is….concert, dinner, trip, shoes, shot glasses, whatever).  

It is at this precise moment in time that I find myself at work, reading a review of the most recent GNR show in Las Vegas.  I had thought it was a one time reunion.  I was incorrect. They were on tour.  Well, hell…..tickets must be sold out, right?   No, they were not. I could score some fairly good seats in the next 2 minutes for the low low low cost of $275.

Each.

You have to buy 2. So you don’t have to sit and experience this alone.

Even if you have no one to take.  Well…that isn’t fair……I have plenty of people to take….but, who will appreciate it $275 worth? And, don’t forget driving, parking, food, drinks, dinner…….(I skipped the souvenir….hahaha). But, $275 EACH?  WTF?  And I was under pressure….because I just knew if I didn’t buy tickets right this minute…they will sell out and there will never be another tour and, and, and…..well.  I bought them. Life is short.  And, then I called the one person in the world I thought would not think I was out of my mind. He works in radio, is a musician, lover of music, and manages bands and organizes tours. His reply, “We were just discussing this at work…..what does the person look like that would spend that much money to see that band?”

Me….that stupid person would look like me. I blamed it on Glenn Frey and the damn guitar.

It really has been on ongoing process for me. For the last few years, I have been giving up expectations, setting goals, and being thankful for EVERYTHING!  People probably think I’m the village idiot..walking around happy all the time with a big dumb grin on my face….but, I don’t care.  I’m happy. I’m not judging.  I still get disappointed and sad…but, not as often.  Seems when you spend so much time being thankful and working towards goals, that is what happens……you are happy and content.  Well.  That is what happened to me. Not everyday is a warm sunny beach. But, the beach, on a crappy day, is still the beach. And, I LOVE the beach.

And, that is the very long explanation for why I didn’t hate 2016.  I had a great year. I was thankful for all experiences…I achieved some goals…….I sat around thinking how happy I was.  Have I discovered the key? The key to being happy?  I am a fairly happy person anyway. But, this year…..I am sooooo happy. 2016 cut my childhood away in tiny little slices…..and, then it died. Maybe it needed to. Maybe because of all of this. Or in spite of it, I became more present this year. AWESOME!

Do You Know Jack?

It has been a challenging week. One of my coworkers passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. While driving into work, I received a frantic call from one of my employees. She was hysterical. After a few minutes, I was able to weave together a story: Let’s call the employee who passed away, “Bob.”  Bob died suddenly in front of his family. They called 911, and Bob’s wife went to hospital with her soon to be deceased husband. The 3 children (of unknown ages) were home alone and they were also frantic and hysterical. The employee that called me was on her way to their “house” (Damn, I love quotation marks) on foot…because she didn’t have a car. He must live close, I thought. Well, this was fun.

I called my boss and advised of situation and headed to pick up my walking employee. When I picked her up, she was headed the wrong way and was obviously an emotional disaster. Fantastic. I would really like to know when I became the “calm one”, because as my family can attest…..I was the “Stress Queen.” about everything…..all the time. But, I digress……..

We headed to their place, I had no idea what I would find. I was a little worried, though. I had owned rental properties and had seen some horrific things……would I see something I didn’t want to see? (haha…..just wait) When the widow opened the door, I was glad to know that the kids were not alone. The “kids” were teenagers. The death had happened the day before. In this very room. The apartment was meticulous. Small…..probably 2 or 3 bedroom. 2 adults and 3 teenagers. In a small place, if one thing is out of order, the place looks like a wreck. This home was peaceful, the violence of the day before leaving no trace. The entire leftover family was devastated. Crying. Sobbing. The widow has been in this country and married to her husband for 20 years. Her English was not so good. She had never worked outside the home. She didn’t drive. Her dead husband, and my employee, worked hard and made @$14.00/hour. This family felt isolated, their future uncertain. I wanted to cry.

After confirming the passing of my coworker, and calming down the widow, I took my other employee and we headed into work. Except, she was so distraught, she needed to go home. After I dropped her off, I headed into work. This was shaping up to be a fantastic day….did I mention it was a Monday?

Once an announcement was made, everyone was in kind of shock. Some crying, some stunned. Everyone quiet. I was wandering around making sure all were doing “okay” when I heard very loud sobbing behind me.  Turned out it was a 22 year old female who had just read the news when she arrived. I brought her to a quiet office where she could compose herself and she proceeded to verbally throw up on me: she and the deceased had been dating (despite the 30 year age difference); they were in love; they had spent the day before in bed and “he was so happy he was jumping all over the bed”….not a visual I want seared into my brain…..a 53 year old balding man (that I worked with) jumping naked on the bed like a 5 year old. She went on and on…..seriously, why on earth would she tell me this? This was worse (yet funnier) than anything I had ever seen inside any of my rentals.  

And that is where I am…..saddened and worried about the family and saddened by the devastated 22 year old. Surprised and a little bit impressed by my fellow coworker. And, disgusted, totally disgusted. Taking advantage of young, ignorant girls. However, I was 22 once and I made all of my own decisions. Good or bad.  But, someone old enough to be your father and in a position of authority should know better.

The next day, the 22 year old was still in a state. She felt that the rest of the office was talking about her (they were). She thought management had spread her story (we hadn’t). After all, she had only told 5 or 6 other people that work here……..

We had been investigating this employee for lots of overtime reported, but not actually worked. (Now it looked like we had been providing a lovers nest and paying for him to “love” in it.) We had been trying to figure out why he needed the money all of a sudden. In addition to that, we had been working with him regarding some of his behaviours and it looked like he was about to be in the middle of a career shit storm. I am sorry for his family and all of our loss. I really am. But, as the layers of this “cheating” onion are unpeeled and more secrets (more girlfriends, possible pregnancies, et al) are revealed…..I find that I can do nothing but laugh and laugh and laugh……..he was doing all of this right under our noses. And this stuff was huge…..I wasn’t planning to attend the funeral….but, now….now, I am thinking this could be entertaining. And devastating. Sad. But, funny. Tragic, but funny.

You think you know people………

Wouldn’t it be Nice?

I read a beautiful obituary today:

http://www.eonline.com/news/793677/alexis-arquette-dead-at-47

It was a beautifully written tribute to a brother who became a sister. It was written by a brother. I have no idea regarding the dynamics of the writer and the deceased. Nor do I have any idea regarding the dynamics of this family. It was an obituary that made me smile. So, I reread it. And then as I read it a 3rd time, I realized that with just a few minor changes, I could change this lovely announcement to something that could honor everyone.

Brother Richard Arquette confirmed the news on his Facebook page, writing, “Our brother Robert, who became our brother Alexis, who became our sister Alexis, passed this morning September 11 at 12:32 a.m. He was surrounded by all of his brothers and sisters, and one of his nieces and several other loved ones. We were playing music for him and he passed during David Bowie‘s Starman. As per his wishes, we cheered at the moment that he transitioned to another dimension.”

“I am feeling immense gratitude to have been afforded the luxury of sharing life with him/her, for learning from Alexis, for being the gift of being able to love her/him and to be loved by him/her. He was a force.”

“He died as he lived, on his own terms. I am immensely grateful that it was fast and painless. It was an incredibly moving experience and I am humbled and grateful to have been able to have been with him as he began his journey onward. Thank you Alexis, I love you and will love you always,” Arquette concluded.

As I read it, my mind wandered in thought (I know, it shouldn’t be allowed to go out alone). I wondered if people who objected to the way Alexis lived her life would find the same beauty and celebration in her tribute. I couldn’t help but think there are people in my life that I struggle with. (And yes…..everything is about me…..even when an Arquette dies.) I narrow my thoughts to one in particular. This person is a force.  Lives on their own terms. I wouldn’t wish them pain or torture. I am definitely grateful (not necessarily to them) for everything that they and that relationship taught me (how to make better choices, how to forgive, how to succeed after tragedy, how to overcome homicidal thoughts, etc…..). I don’t wish harm, I am apathetic.  I really don’t care what happens to this person. I don’t care about them. I also do not care for them. How would I write that obituary or announcement?

I don’t like them; I don’t respect them; I don’t like their choices, etc. (it is fun to use semi-colons!  I think I like the “air quotes” better). I do, however, respect their right to exist…..we don’t all have to like each other; I respect their right to make choices; I respect their right to live and die in any way they choose. I could use most of the words above. Maybe leave a few out, maybe add a few. But, it wouldn’t be that difficult to take this loving tribute and make it a celebration of that person’s life. Even if I didn’t consider them a role model. Hell….especially if I didn’t consider them a role model.

Which brings me to the next…….what if everyone treated everyone that way???????? You know, before they died? What if we treated people without judgment? What if we respected people without judgment?

Wouldn’t it be nice? (A fantastic song I would have shared but, the lyrics didn’t match my story)

The obit gave you a positive glimpse into the departed and a positive glimpse into the writer. Everybody wins. Nobody was dishonest. I can’t see where anyone could be offended.  Just some rambling thoughts on a Sunday.

My Thoughts on Cake

via Daily Prompt: Cake

I have a LOT to say about cake. But, first you should know that I am not a fan. And…..I do not care if your cake is the “best” cake ever made by anyone for anything. I do not care if you make it from scratch. From your Grandmother’s recipe and she was Betty Crocker’s secret lover and baking assistant. I do not care if it is all organic. Or if it is loaded with things so good for me that one piece could prolong my life. I do not care if it is loaded with all things delicious, but bad: sugar, butter, white flour. I do not care if it is fruit cake (apple or carrot). I don’t care what it is “filled with” or how “moist” it is.  A funny friend once insisted, “But, it isn’t even like cake.” Whatever the fuck that means. Doesn’t matter. I do not like cake. I could go on like a Dr. Seuss book…but, you get the picture.

Before you say, “but, I make the best frosting,” it is not the frosting I object to….although I have thoughts on that, too. Frosting is the least offensive part of the cake for me. I don’t hate it….but,  I could live without it. Most store bought frosting feels like I have just put a spoonful of Vaseline in my mouth. When I was 22 and on my own, a spoon and a can of frosting were my companions once a month…..but now…..yuck. Homemade frosting can be good…..but, once you put it on the cake….ruined and wasted.

“When are you going to go cake tasting for your wedding cake?” I admit, when I first was asked this question, I thought, “I have to do what?” Crap. That is right…..gotta have cake at a wedding. Or, do I?  Well, I was married years ago….that is what you did. And, when I asked around for alternatives…..nobody was on board. Including Mr. First Divorce (there won’t be a 2nd divorce because there won’t be a 2nd wedding…but, thought that was funny way to describe him). So, I compromised….sort of. We had chocolate cake with some sort of “yummy” filling and fudgy, chocolate frosting. I had a bite of it, because you “have” to…..but, it wasn’t “yummy,” I didn’t love it, and didn’t save any for our 1st Anniversary. Of course, that was a “joint decision.” And, a blog post for another day.

I have found some fantastic “alternatives” on occasions where cake is “required.” (And, yes…I am going for the “Most Air Quotes in a Blog Post” Award). Brownies, cookies, ice cream have been combined in different configurations for the “Big Things.” (This air quote thing is fun!). You can definitely put candles on brownie ice cram cake or an ice cream cookie sandwich. If I could re-do my wedding cake….I would have it made out of Oreos. My Future Ex-Husband would have objected to that, too. And, to be fair……our guests would have found it strange, too.

There is one thing I like about cake. Cake is a band from Sacramento. They have been around a while. They have some cool tunes. “Rock and Roll Lifestyle” is the first song I always think of. They are the Cake/cake (I am probably missing an air quote opportunity) I like most  and I am a fan….but, you have probably guessed they are not my “favorite” band.

You know what I am going to say next…..you can have your cake, and you can eat it too.

Check out this sexy read (there is no cake in it…..)

But there is Cake here….  Cake

Is This What I have Become?

So…it happened today. I was writing a blog post….a simple, funny story about paper towels. About paper towels in the bathroom. At work. The post was G rated in content, R rated in language……until….I had reached the build up (look…..it is happening again…used “build up” instead of something less sexual) and was ready to deliver the punch line. And, instead of a funny story…..thoughts of sex and nakedness and spanking and punishment started to wander into my mind and onto my pages.

Aaaahhhhh.  I am an average woman with a private Catholic school background and a mostly vanilla history. My “foray” into writing erotica was a fluke. A complete accident. I didn’t set out to write or even publish it. And, now……now……that is all I can write? Not sure if that makes me laugh or, or….okay….laugh is my only reaction. Because this is the most preposterous thing….EVER!!!!

Until about 10 years ago….I didn’t enjoy the sex written in books. Most of what I read had short, boring scenes that usually started and ended with “and the lights went out.” I sped through those passages like it was an Olympic event. And, that is if they had sex scenes at all. I fast forwarded most sex scenes when I was watching a movie. I didn’t watch porn. I have always felt that whatever was done between 2 (or more) adults was up to them. I don’t care. I don’t judge. And I really don’t want to know.  When I was younger, a friend of mine returned from a safari trip. Her dog sitter had left one of her personal sex toys behind.  Where did my friend find it? I don’t know. What kind of toy was it? I don’t know. What color was it? I don’t know. What did my friend do with it? I don’t know. Do you know why I don’t know? Because recalling the story as she told it to me made me blush for years. I never asked. I don’t know and I didn’t want to know. And then a lot of random stuff happened. Each and every occurrence dancing me one step closer to Erotica Writer Extraordinaire…….  And, now…..well, you know…..I want to know where she found it; what it was; how she gave it back…….

So….here I am…..erotica ebook publisher and blogger of sex. How did this happen? When did it happen? And how long is this conversation going to bring giggles to my lips? One thing led to another. Tiny little steps or circumstances that gave no indication of where the path would wind to. And, at the time, the path had no direction. There was no “goal”. It was just life. Get a divorce. Get a job. Get another job. Write a love letter. Write a story. Write a book. Because you are having a little dry spell, write about sex. And, the rest is just a slippery slope of being open to new experiences and new opportunities.

It is true that with age comes wisdom….well, it is for me.  I know now that you should just “do” stuff. Try it. If you like it, do it again.  If you don’t, stop doing it. But, it is in the learning of new things or the path less traveled or the “open attitude” that brings the greatest enjoyment. Every experience, every conversation, every decision shapes you and challenges you to change with it. I have been embracing every single opportunity for a few years now. I no longer cringe at the thought of change. Now, I run towards it. I have become a happier, more fulfilled, more joyous, more content, more enthusiastic liver of life than I ever was.  And, that is fucking fantastic.

Today, though, I had to pause. Have I become a part of this world that I am teasing at the edges of? I don’t mind the writing or publishing of what could be called pornographic material. But, I never wanted to become part of the “business”. Is that what I am now? Part of the business? My younger, reluctant to change self, would have spent the next several days agonizing. Wise, experienced Bianca says…….FUCK IT. Don’t waste the worry. You are not going to become someone your children won’t recognize. I have been though some life and know that I will do only what makes sense to me. I am aware I don’t want to degenerate. So, I won’t. Simple as that.

If I had any lingering doubt, I put it out with this…….who am I? What have I become?  “I have become a happier, more fulfilled, more joyous, more content, more enthusiastic liver of life than I ever was.  And, that is fucking fantastic. ”

Fuck yeah it is.

Check out this sexy read

How Did I Get Here?

My friend and I were discussing a book she is currently reading. The book describes how we need to determine our true purpose or reach our dreams. It discusses how if you look at all of the “strings” that have been provided in your life, and are able to weave them together, you will discover your true purpose and achieve your goals. Interesting premise. I looked for the book on Amazon and discovered it was a religious book about our purpose through God. I am not sure that God (if there is one) wants me to be successful by writing porn stories…..but, it did get me thinking. How exactly did I get here?

I have always wanted to write a book. But, doesn’t everyone? I also wanted to be a dancer……but, I never took a dance class after 2nd Grade. I have spent my fair share of time on dance floors in bars, however. I had taken a lot of writing courses over the years….but, never pursued that either. I didn’t have a story. I read a lot and wished for inspiration, but it never came.

Fast forward through jobs and marriage and kids and being a stay at home mom.  I never felt like I had a “goal”, I was just living every day as it arrived. And, as a stay at home mom, I was too tired to read, much less write. So, kids got older, husband moved on and I was starting over. The divorce was ugly and I was under pressure to get a job immediately.  So, I did. It was a decent job and it was a job, but it did not pay well.  So, I got another job. It paid better but, was not what I wanted to do. Which was okay. Not everyone loves their job. So, I looked for other jobs.  

In the meantime, this 2nd job provided a laptop for me to use and take home if I wanted. I did that too. Spent a lot of time on Pinterest and FB, but that became boring quickly. I had also rekindled an old friendship online. While it was mostly innocent (really, no flirting, no sexting, no secret rendezvous) on both of our parts, it became a source of frustration for me. I had fallen in love with him the day we met. And, my feelings hadn’t really changed. He was married at the time. I have woven the pieces of our story into my books and I am not going to elaborate here, but I decided I needed to address the frustration I was having. I figured if I wrote our love story, I could get over it and move on. And, I had this handy laptop.

So, write I did. Whenever I had free time. Since I was sharing custody and was not seeing anyone, I had a LOT of free time. Plus, writing was cheap….I could afford it. My “love story” quickly turned into something else. I had so much fun writing about us, I got to thinking about everyone whom has “one that got away” and wouldn’t it be fun to explore the possibilities of that? I wrote and wrote and wrote. For about a year. Hundreds of pages. And, somewhere between the first word and now, the characters stopped resembling me and him and their activities changed….a LOT.

I had purchased some of these online stories myself. I thought I had a different voice to add. And I had all of these filled pages.  I started to research publishers and self publishing sites. Soon, what had filled up my free time started to spillover into my not so “free” time. I would back-burner my plans. Then I started to loathe my job and ramped up my job hunting. That also takes a ton of time.  When 2 jobs that I really wanted did not become mine, I started to think again. What did I really want? I wanted a job with some flexibility that paid enough to meet my bills and feed my kids. I wanted weekends off. I wanted to work ½ a day if I needed to. I wanted to work the hours I wanted to work. I am sure you can see where this is going. I always wanted to be a writer. I had written a lot of stuff. I wanted to be my own boss.  I took the plans to publish off the back burner and pushed forward.

I am not sure where this is going to lead. And I haven’t quit my day job yet. But, I do know, when I look back to where I have been…and where I started….this adventure will have lead me to the next place I need to be in my life. For years I seemed to be just going along for the ride. For the first time in a long time, I am finally driving the bus. It feels good. It is fun and exciting and interesting. And, I am going to enjoy every single step. Because, I am successful already before I sell the first book. I will keep you posted.

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What Am I Doing?

Publishing your first book is a fantastic and ridiculous experience. It requires more than just a good idea for a story. Much more. If you have written something that you think is worth publishing, you have to decide: self publish or not. I chose to self publish. So, all of the decisions were mine. Also fantastic and ridiculous. Something that started on a whim (a blog for another day) is now requiring some serious thought and research. Where do I publish? How long should my “story” be? Should I put all of my stories together and make a book? Should I structure it as a series instead? How much should I charge for it? Where and how to publish? How many times should I edit/update? Who should read it? Should someone read it? What should I name the characters? Should I use a pseudonym? What will my pseudonym be? Who do I tell? What if they want to read it? Is it good enough to publish? Will anyone like it? Read it? Buy it? And on and on until I am a freaked out mess. (If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have a tendency to obsess and over think some things. Not all things, just some things.)

While trying to nail down the answers to these questions (and many more) I also had to figure out a name and think about the cover. Fortunately for me, I had a graphic artist friend (see her info) willing to do the artwork for free. So, I phoned her with my name dilemma.  I told her the name I had picked out, “Dreams and Fantasies” which she thought was too literal. Dang. She suggested “Deep Surrender” or “Dark Ecstasy”, which I loved but a quick search told me they were already books. Then we started getting silly: “Lick Me” (already taken numerous times); “Fuck Me Cross-Eyed” which lead to “Fuck Each Other Stupid” (a line from one of my books, actually); “Hard Surrender”; “Dark Hardness”; and “Hard Darkness”, to name a few. It was funny and we were laughing, but I still hadn’t picked out a name.

I started to research how important a good title was. Maybe I could just pick anything. Concensus was that the title was VERY IMPORTANT! Great! More anxiety. Somehow in all that searching, I found a link to Lulu.com . An online publisher that had a “title grader” on it.  Fabulous. I just answered a few questions, typed in the name and Lulu provided me with a percentage score on whether or not the book would be a best seller. I entered every name we had come up with and received the scores of 16%, 27%, and 32%. Bummer. I wanted to sell my books, turn lots of people on, and quit my day job. Even 32% wasn’t good enough for those lofty goals. And, then I typed in “Dark Compliance”…..score of 69%!  I think we have a winner here.  Name search over. Anxiety and obsessing over (for now). I will let you know how it works out.

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