I have several email accounts. Some are for those sites you want to check out but are required to give an email address to register. Some are for work. Some are personal, primary or secondary. I have more than one address on a couple different servers. At least two of those servers use tracking in order to give you ads that are specific to your interests, geographic location, recent searches...whatever.
Two different servers and three different email addresses have given me the same ad today:
TRY CHRISTIAN MINGLE FOR FREE! MEET OTHER LIKE-MINDED CHRISTIANS...AND FIND LOVE!
There are So Many Reasons this is funny.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Images
I'm getting old. Or getting sensitive. Or getting something.
Scary movies, disturbing pictures, provoking images never used to bother. In fact, I was known for my ability to see something or read something and be asleep within moments. Cool as ice. Nothing touched me.
And it was legitimate. It wasn't a front or an act or anything.
Now? Now, apparently, this is me:
What happened? I have no idea. Seriously. Over the last few days, however, I have seen two things (one movie, one still picture) that have gotten under my skin. Gotten into my brain. That I can't quite let go, even during the day. At night? Whooo boy...
So for the first time since I saw my first horror flick and read my first Stephen King, I'm going to have to start really monitoring myself. It's a weird thought. I guess it's a good thing I write romance novels, huh?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Ps ~ If you're interested, the movie was called "Audition." Not scary per se. New definition of disturbing though. *shiver*
Pps ~ Those pictures up there? Those aren't really me. Those are probably copyrighted to someone who's not me. I use them with thanks.
Scary movies, disturbing pictures, provoking images never used to bother. In fact, I was known for my ability to see something or read something and be asleep within moments. Cool as ice. Nothing touched me.
And it was legitimate. It wasn't a front or an act or anything.
Now? Now, apparently, this is me:
What happened? I have no idea. Seriously. Over the last few days, however, I have seen two things (one movie, one still picture) that have gotten under my skin. Gotten into my brain. That I can't quite let go, even during the day. At night? Whooo boy...
So for the first time since I saw my first horror flick and read my first Stephen King, I'm going to have to start really monitoring myself. It's a weird thought. I guess it's a good thing I write romance novels, huh?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Ps ~ If you're interested, the movie was called "Audition." Not scary per se. New definition of disturbing though. *shiver*
Pps ~ Those pictures up there? Those aren't really me. Those are probably copyrighted to someone who's not me. I use them with thanks.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Drunk Blogging
Nope. Not gonna do it.
*whew*
Those are Pobble Thoughts (if this particular Pobble could think). That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
*whew*
Those are Pobble Thoughts (if this particular Pobble could think). That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
It's...It's...It's...
LIVE!
Check it out:
www.paulinetrent.com
Oh.
My.
God.
People.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Check it out:
Oh.
My.
God.
People.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
2009 Resolution
Generally speaking, I'm not a New Year's Resolution type o'gal. When I make them, they tend to be things like light more candles or take more baths or remember to look at the sky more often. Because for the most part, I think New Year's Resolutions are simply good ways to set ourselves up to fail. However! Occasionally, I do make them. And I'm going to have to make one this year. So what is my 2009 New Year's Resolution?
Learn to trust that the man really can pull it off.
See, I'm a planner. On a random Tuesday or arbitrary Saturday, I have no problem with the whole getting-in-the-car-and-seeing-where-we-land thing. In fact, I enjoy it, thrive on it, look forward to it. Worst case scenario, we've had a nice evening drive and at least gotten out of the house. When it's just me, I can be as flexible and spontaneous as anyone you've ever met. More so, I'll wager. But when something is at stake ~ someone's good time, something that has been anticipated, whatever ~ I'm a planner. I know where we're going, what time it starts, when we need to leave, where we're going to park, how much it's going to cost and where we will spend the night once it's all done. I have checked and double-checked the directions. I know what's included and what isn't. If at all possible, I already have tickets. I'm a planner.
Lithus is not.
In the past, Lithus has taken Timber to Florida over New Year's with nothing but a clear credit card in his pocket and return plane tickets home a week later. No itinerary. No rental car reserved. No maps. No plan. No hotel rooms waiting for them. The very thought makes me a little queasy.
For the last several days, I've been asking Lithus if we need anything To Do with Timber over New Year's Eve. If we needed to arrange for something or plan something. His response has been "oh no; it's fine." Which said to me we will just hang out at the house and let it be whatever it is. Yesterday morning, he looks at me and says "I'm thinking we should go into town tonight."
What?
What's the plan? He doesn't have one. Where are the fireworks? He doesn't know. Are there fireworks? He's not sure. Is there anything all three of us can attend? He's sure there's something. What is he thinking about? Eh...driving into downtown, finding parking and ending up somewhere. Maybe there's a street party.
You have to be fucking kidding me.
At 10:45 last night, I went on the record as believing this was going to be a fiasco and a royally big mistake. We were going to end up driving around downtown, away from everything, with an unhappy, disappointed teenager in the backseat and two adults sniping at each other in the front. I was game. I was going. I was even laughing. And I was on the record.
By 11:15, we had found parking (at an incredibly good rate) right around the corner (seriously ~ less than a block, right.around.the corner) from a street party. On the waterfront. Coffees and cocoas were only a dollar. The karaoke and costume contests were free entertainment. It was under a huge tent, away from the rain and wind. At midnight, everyone cheered, a race started and the boats on the river sounded their horns. We decided a food run was in order so got back in the Pobble mobile and headed down the street.
Did he know where the donut shop was from where we are? No. Not really. How about the diner? Oh, definitely not. Was there anything else he knew was open? Honestly, not really. But there would be something.
And there was Denney's. Always open. We walked in and were seated in a booth along the wall immediately. By the time our orders had been taken, the line was out the door. On the way home, we all talked about what a really great evening it had been and what a nice way it was to start the new year.
The man pulls it off. Even when there's something at stake. Even when it's not just us being willing to be random and leave it to chance.
Thus, my 2009 New Year's Resolution. Even if I still need to plan when I'm in charge. Even if the thought of not planning still makes me a little queasy. When he says "Why don't we..." I'm going to swallow hard, smile and...trust.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Learn to trust that the man really can pull it off.
See, I'm a planner. On a random Tuesday or arbitrary Saturday, I have no problem with the whole getting-in-the-car-and-seeing-where-we-land thing. In fact, I enjoy it, thrive on it, look forward to it. Worst case scenario, we've had a nice evening drive and at least gotten out of the house. When it's just me, I can be as flexible and spontaneous as anyone you've ever met. More so, I'll wager. But when something is at stake ~ someone's good time, something that has been anticipated, whatever ~ I'm a planner. I know where we're going, what time it starts, when we need to leave, where we're going to park, how much it's going to cost and where we will spend the night once it's all done. I have checked and double-checked the directions. I know what's included and what isn't. If at all possible, I already have tickets. I'm a planner.
Lithus is not.
In the past, Lithus has taken Timber to Florida over New Year's with nothing but a clear credit card in his pocket and return plane tickets home a week later. No itinerary. No rental car reserved. No maps. No plan. No hotel rooms waiting for them. The very thought makes me a little queasy.
For the last several days, I've been asking Lithus if we need anything To Do with Timber over New Year's Eve. If we needed to arrange for something or plan something. His response has been "oh no; it's fine." Which said to me we will just hang out at the house and let it be whatever it is. Yesterday morning, he looks at me and says "I'm thinking we should go into town tonight."
What?
What's the plan? He doesn't have one. Where are the fireworks? He doesn't know. Are there fireworks? He's not sure. Is there anything all three of us can attend? He's sure there's something. What is he thinking about? Eh...driving into downtown, finding parking and ending up somewhere. Maybe there's a street party.
You have to be fucking kidding me.
At 10:45 last night, I went on the record as believing this was going to be a fiasco and a royally big mistake. We were going to end up driving around downtown, away from everything, with an unhappy, disappointed teenager in the backseat and two adults sniping at each other in the front. I was game. I was going. I was even laughing. And I was on the record.
By 11:15, we had found parking (at an incredibly good rate) right around the corner (seriously ~ less than a block, right.around.the corner) from a street party. On the waterfront. Coffees and cocoas were only a dollar. The karaoke and costume contests were free entertainment. It was under a huge tent, away from the rain and wind. At midnight, everyone cheered, a race started and the boats on the river sounded their horns. We decided a food run was in order so got back in the Pobble mobile and headed down the street.
Did he know where the donut shop was from where we are? No. Not really. How about the diner? Oh, definitely not. Was there anything else he knew was open? Honestly, not really. But there would be something.
And there was Denney's. Always open. We walked in and were seated in a booth along the wall immediately. By the time our orders had been taken, the line was out the door. On the way home, we all talked about what a really great evening it had been and what a nice way it was to start the new year.
The man pulls it off. Even when there's something at stake. Even when it's not just us being willing to be random and leave it to chance.
Thus, my 2009 New Year's Resolution. Even if I still need to plan when I'm in charge. Even if the thought of not planning still makes me a little queasy. When he says "Why don't we..." I'm going to swallow hard, smile and...trust.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Monday, December 29, 2008
At the Pobble House...
...the holidays looked like this:
...and this:
...and this:
...and this:
So...what are your plans for New Year's?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
...and this:
...and this:
...and this:
So...what are your plans for New Year's?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
December 25,2008
And a very merry Christmas to anyone who happens by today.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Speed the Plow
Apparently, it doesn't often snow like this in the coastal regions of the Pacific Northwest. The mountains? Sure. Of course. Down here in the flat lands? Not so much. As the snow began and the numbers started adding up, I smugly rolled my eyes as schools and businesses and roads were closed after only a few inches of snow. Lithus and I tucked in, deciding to stay in, not because we or our vehicles couldn't handle the snow, but because, honestly, we didn't trust the other people on the road. Driving in snow is an art, people. Don't forget this.
Even once the numbers started really wracking up and it became a "real" snow (anything over 5-6 inches in my book), it still didn't merit the reaction. Yes, we all know that the weather stations and news reports always pick the most dramatic way of telling a weather story they possibly can and urge people to stay off the roads. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the reactions from people who were bailing on meetings because "the snow *might* be here by then"; who were stripping the stores of necessities; who were forgetting that 4WD helps you go but not stop.
Then...I learned something important. They don't plow here in my lovely little town. See, it doesn't snow like this here. They don't plow. They don't put down salt. They don't sprinkle sand. Nothing. And you know what? There's a lot of fucking snow out there when it's not taken away. Seriously. No matter which coast you happen to be on.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Even once the numbers started really wracking up and it became a "real" snow (anything over 5-6 inches in my book), it still didn't merit the reaction. Yes, we all know that the weather stations and news reports always pick the most dramatic way of telling a weather story they possibly can and urge people to stay off the roads. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the reactions from people who were bailing on meetings because "the snow *might* be here by then"; who were stripping the stores of necessities; who were forgetting that 4WD helps you go but not stop.
Then...I learned something important. They don't plow here in my lovely little town. See, it doesn't snow like this here. They don't plow. They don't put down salt. They don't sprinkle sand. Nothing. And you know what? There's a lot of fucking snow out there when it's not taken away. Seriously. No matter which coast you happen to be on.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Shout Outs
Cracker Lilo tagged me a couple days ago. So, here we go!
RULE ONE, I have to grab one of the books closest to me, go to page 56, type the fifth line and the next two to five lines that follow.
RULE TWO, I have to pick five people who love books and who could receive the Bookworm award with honor.
THING THE FIRST: "It is the same with people. The best judges never miss the mark. And from the very first." "What has this to do with me?" I was anxious to get on with my lesson and impress him with the many facts I had memorized for his benefit since last time. "Everything. First you must develop this skill within yourself, just as you have developed your skill at riding or music."
The Autobiography of Henry VIII ~ Margaret George
And yes, I am honored to be officially dubbed a Bookworm!
THING THE SECOND: The tag. If you have the time during the holiday busy-ness, I'd love to read a few lines from the books closest to Dennis R. Upkins, Mike C, $$, Wolfgrrrl and Cam Pike. Just for shits and grins, people. :)
Now, if you'll look back at the subject line, you'll see the shout outs are plural. Which means there's another one.
Especially for Get Off My Lawn!....
Now, next time I sign off weirdly, you're not left out of the coffee loop. The very thought makes me shudder.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will, indeed, get you coffee.
RULE ONE, I have to grab one of the books closest to me, go to page 56, type the fifth line and the next two to five lines that follow.
RULE TWO, I have to pick five people who love books and who could receive the Bookworm award with honor.
THING THE FIRST: "It is the same with people. The best judges never miss the mark. And from the very first." "What has this to do with me?" I was anxious to get on with my lesson and impress him with the many facts I had memorized for his benefit since last time. "Everything. First you must develop this skill within yourself, just as you have developed your skill at riding or music."
The Autobiography of Henry VIII ~ Margaret George
And yes, I am honored to be officially dubbed a Bookworm!
THING THE SECOND: The tag. If you have the time during the holiday busy-ness, I'd love to read a few lines from the books closest to Dennis R. Upkins, Mike C, $$, Wolfgrrrl and Cam Pike. Just for shits and grins, people. :)
Now, if you'll look back at the subject line, you'll see the shout outs are plural. Which means there's another one.
Especially for Get Off My Lawn!....
Now, next time I sign off weirdly, you're not left out of the coffee loop. The very thought makes me shudder.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will, indeed, get you coffee.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
And One More
This showed up in my inbox today. Seems reasonable to me. :)
I've been talking to booksellers lately who report that times are hard. And local booksellers aren't known for vast reserves of capital, so a serious dip in sales can be devastating. Booksellers don't lose enough money, however, to receive congressional attention. A government bailout isn't in the cards.
We don't want bookstores to die. Authors need them, and so do neighborhoods. So let's mount a book-buying splurge. Get your friends together, go to your local bookstore and have a book-buying party. Buy the rest of your Christmas presents, but that's just for starters. Clear out the mysteries, wrap up the histories, beam up the science fiction! Round up the westerns, go crazy for self-help, say yes to the university press books! Get a load of those coffee-table books, fatten up on slim volumes of verse, and take a chance on romance!
There will be birthdays in the next twelve months; books keep well; they're easy to wrap: buy those books now. Buy replacements for any books looking raggedy on your shelves. Stockpile children's books as gifts for friends who look like they may eventually give birth. Hold off on the flat-screen TV and the GPS (they'll be cheaper after Christmas) and buy many, many books. Then tell the grateful booksellers, who by this time will be hanging onto your legs begging you to stay and live with their cat in the stockroom: "Got to move on, folks. Got some books to write now. You see...we're the Authors Guild."
Enjoy the holidays.
Roy Blount Jr.
President
Authors Guild
And in case you were concerned, this followed it shortly thereafter...
The Guild's staff informs me that many of you are writing to ask whether you can forward and post my holiday message encouraging orgiastic book-buying. Yes! Forward! Yes! Post! Sound the clarion call to every corner of the Internet: Hang in there, bookstores! We're coming! And we're coming to buy! To buy what? To buy books! Gimme a B! B! Gimme an O! O! Gimme another O! Another O! Gimme a K! K! Gimme an S! F! No, not an F, an S. We're spelling BOOKS!
Yours,
Roy
'Cause, hey, soldiers need books. Kids need books. Elders need books. Who doesn't need a book, right? Right.
Those are someone named Roy's thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you a bookstore still open in two months!
I've been talking to booksellers lately who report that times are hard. And local booksellers aren't known for vast reserves of capital, so a serious dip in sales can be devastating. Booksellers don't lose enough money, however, to receive congressional attention. A government bailout isn't in the cards.
We don't want bookstores to die. Authors need them, and so do neighborhoods. So let's mount a book-buying splurge. Get your friends together, go to your local bookstore and have a book-buying party. Buy the rest of your Christmas presents, but that's just for starters. Clear out the mysteries, wrap up the histories, beam up the science fiction! Round up the westerns, go crazy for self-help, say yes to the university press books! Get a load of those coffee-table books, fatten up on slim volumes of verse, and take a chance on romance!
There will be birthdays in the next twelve months; books keep well; they're easy to wrap: buy those books now. Buy replacements for any books looking raggedy on your shelves. Stockpile children's books as gifts for friends who look like they may eventually give birth. Hold off on the flat-screen TV and the GPS (they'll be cheaper after Christmas) and buy many, many books. Then tell the grateful booksellers, who by this time will be hanging onto your legs begging you to stay and live with their cat in the stockroom: "Got to move on, folks. Got some books to write now. You see...we're the Authors Guild."
Enjoy the holidays.
Roy Blount Jr.
President
Authors Guild
And in case you were concerned, this followed it shortly thereafter...
The Guild's staff informs me that many of you are writing to ask whether you can forward and post my holiday message encouraging orgiastic book-buying. Yes! Forward! Yes! Post! Sound the clarion call to every corner of the Internet: Hang in there, bookstores! We're coming! And we're coming to buy! To buy what? To buy books! Gimme a B! B! Gimme an O! O! Gimme another O! Another O! Gimme a K! K! Gimme an S! F! No, not an F, an S. We're spelling BOOKS!
Yours,
Roy
'Cause, hey, soldiers need books. Kids need books. Elders need books. Who doesn't need a book, right? Right.
Those are someone named Roy's thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you a bookstore still open in two months!
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
The Annual PSA
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat;
Please put a penny in the old man's hat.
Yes, Pobble Thoughts readers you fabulous few, it's that time of year again. You're (perhaps) thinking about giving. I'm (definitely) thinking about the fact that we are thinking about giving. Times are tough this year for more of us than usual so if you're not giving this year, I'm not judging. Truth be told, I'm not giving in the amounts I usually do, either, and consider myself beyond blessed that I can do anything. Last year, I posted a list of suggestions beyond Barbies, action figures, Stovetop stuffing and green beans (which are worthy donations and always welcome). I've reposted that list at the end of this if you want to check it out. But I don't want to just repost that list so here are some other thoughts beyond the Barbies and last year's list (which is still as valid as the Stovetop!)
If you haven't got a penny
Then a ha'penny will do.
First, in case you haven't heard about them, let me tell you about an organization called Toys for Troops. No, that's not a typo. Toys for Troops (http://www.toys-for-troops.com/) was created by Lori over at This Just In. Talk about a little idea growing beyond all possible expectations. This organization sends Beanie Babies and soccer balls to soldiers to pass out to the kids of the respective countries year-round. This time of year, they have sent holiday packages to the soldiers themselves. But did you read that previous sentence? They do this year-round. Which means shipping costs. And postage. And gas for the cars that drive to the drop off locations to pick up the toys to be postaged and shipped. Year-round. While it's too late to get in on the actual holiday package events this year, it's not too late to donate monies. For our soldiers. At war. Year-round. And the coolest thing is I can promise you (PROMISE YOU) every single penny you send will be spent actually on postage or shipping. Seriously. No explanation I can write will make this sound as amazing as it actually is so go check out the link.
Second, remember that kids aren't the only ones in need. Or lonely. Or alone. Which is bad enough in March but really, really sucks this time of year. Elders in your community are in need, lonely and alone, too. Think I'm wrong? I just googled "Christmas donations for elders" and came up with over 100,000 hits from community papers all over the country. I wish I could link something generalized here that would be applicable to all of us and I'm sorry I can't because Pobble Thought readers are so scattered. Still, it's something to think about. Be in touch with your local senior center, YMCA/YWCA, shelters, nursing homes...you get the idea. As much as I have always loved doing holiday donations for kids, the one year I remember most was the year we "adopted" a senior. All he wanted was "warm pajamas, please." He got a little more than that Christmas morning ~ and his warm pajamas.
Third, for my more misanthropic readers who have basically given up on humanity (you know who you are), remember the animals. Donations of dog/cat food, heartworm meds, pupy pads and kitty litter are always welcome at animal shelters and rescue organizations. Some food banks are even accepting them these days.
Finally, consider going to your calendar right now (okay, finish reading so you know why you're going to your calendar but you get the idea) and picking a day between March and September. Add some nonperishables to your grocery cart that day. Pick up an extra tube of toothpaste and a thing of deoderant then. Volunteer an hour of your time when no one else is bothering. Toys for Troops isn't the only organization that runs year-round. Nor is it the only one that tends to be forgotten the other nine months out of the year. Organizations love the people who give this time of year. Really. They do. But the ones who remember the other times of the year are the people who keep the organizations up and running to be around at this time of the year.
And, if what you really want to do is give to a child or family right now, keep reading. The list is there at the end. And thank you. From someone who did this for a very long time and is still grateful to the people who helped make it possible.
If you haven't got a ha'penny
Then God bless you!
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will give someone a happier holiday.
The List (with thanks from some of last year's contributors)
wrapping paper, ribbon and tape
artificial Christmas trees and ornaments
stocking stuffers
gifts for teenagers ~ especially teenage boys
full-sized toiletries (because guess what? people still need to brush their teeth!)
gift cards for gas stations
board games the whole family can playbooks
adult-sized underwear ~ especially men's
AA batteries
ballcaps for your local team
gloves
t-shirts with funny sayings on them
posters of bands or cars or sayings (not religious, please)
walkmen
clever boxer shorts
art supplies
books (novels, action, sci-fi or How-To just to name a few)
Please put a penny in the old man's hat.
Yes, Pobble Thoughts readers you fabulous few, it's that time of year again. You're (perhaps) thinking about giving. I'm (definitely) thinking about the fact that we are thinking about giving. Times are tough this year for more of us than usual so if you're not giving this year, I'm not judging. Truth be told, I'm not giving in the amounts I usually do, either, and consider myself beyond blessed that I can do anything. Last year, I posted a list of suggestions beyond Barbies, action figures, Stovetop stuffing and green beans (which are worthy donations and always welcome). I've reposted that list at the end of this if you want to check it out. But I don't want to just repost that list so here are some other thoughts beyond the Barbies and last year's list (which is still as valid as the Stovetop!)
If you haven't got a penny
Then a ha'penny will do.
First, in case you haven't heard about them, let me tell you about an organization called Toys for Troops. No, that's not a typo. Toys for Troops (http://www.toys-for-troops.com/) was created by Lori over at This Just In. Talk about a little idea growing beyond all possible expectations. This organization sends Beanie Babies and soccer balls to soldiers to pass out to the kids of the respective countries year-round. This time of year, they have sent holiday packages to the soldiers themselves. But did you read that previous sentence? They do this year-round. Which means shipping costs. And postage. And gas for the cars that drive to the drop off locations to pick up the toys to be postaged and shipped. Year-round. While it's too late to get in on the actual holiday package events this year, it's not too late to donate monies. For our soldiers. At war. Year-round. And the coolest thing is I can promise you (PROMISE YOU) every single penny you send will be spent actually on postage or shipping. Seriously. No explanation I can write will make this sound as amazing as it actually is so go check out the link.
Second, remember that kids aren't the only ones in need. Or lonely. Or alone. Which is bad enough in March but really, really sucks this time of year. Elders in your community are in need, lonely and alone, too. Think I'm wrong? I just googled "Christmas donations for elders" and came up with over 100,000 hits from community papers all over the country. I wish I could link something generalized here that would be applicable to all of us and I'm sorry I can't because Pobble Thought readers are so scattered. Still, it's something to think about. Be in touch with your local senior center, YMCA/YWCA, shelters, nursing homes...you get the idea. As much as I have always loved doing holiday donations for kids, the one year I remember most was the year we "adopted" a senior. All he wanted was "warm pajamas, please." He got a little more than that Christmas morning ~ and his warm pajamas.
Third, for my more misanthropic readers who have basically given up on humanity (you know who you are), remember the animals. Donations of dog/cat food, heartworm meds, pupy pads and kitty litter are always welcome at animal shelters and rescue organizations. Some food banks are even accepting them these days.
Finally, consider going to your calendar right now (okay, finish reading so you know why you're going to your calendar but you get the idea) and picking a day between March and September. Add some nonperishables to your grocery cart that day. Pick up an extra tube of toothpaste and a thing of deoderant then. Volunteer an hour of your time when no one else is bothering. Toys for Troops isn't the only organization that runs year-round. Nor is it the only one that tends to be forgotten the other nine months out of the year. Organizations love the people who give this time of year. Really. They do. But the ones who remember the other times of the year are the people who keep the organizations up and running to be around at this time of the year.
And, if what you really want to do is give to a child or family right now, keep reading. The list is there at the end. And thank you. From someone who did this for a very long time and is still grateful to the people who helped make it possible.
If you haven't got a ha'penny
Then God bless you!
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will give someone a happier holiday.
The List (with thanks from some of last year's contributors)
wrapping paper, ribbon and tape
artificial Christmas trees and ornaments
stocking stuffers
gifts for teenagers ~ especially teenage boys
full-sized toiletries (because guess what? people still need to brush their teeth!)
gift cards for gas stations
board games the whole family can playbooks
adult-sized underwear ~ especially men's
AA batteries
ballcaps for your local team
gloves
t-shirts with funny sayings on them
posters of bands or cars or sayings (not religious, please)
walkmen
clever boxer shorts
art supplies
books (novels, action, sci-fi or How-To just to name a few)
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
For The Rest of My Life...
My winter holiday decorations will include lighted, glowy penguins.
So much for my trademark understated elegance.
I guess I can live with this. :)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
So much for my trademark understated elegance.
I guess I can live with this. :)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
An Unforseen Glitch
Tonight, I learned I cannot write sex scenes when Timber is in the room. Time to set up my office.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
No DesireTo Gloat
An interesting thing happened this past week. Out of the clear blue, Crow Mother got an email from the SGM. After checking with me, she wrote him back and they have been in that sporadic, tentative communication that we tend to go through with people we were once very close to and aren't any longer.
She and I wondered and speculated. He must be on deployment. There would be no way he would be contacting her if he were at home and Wifey would know. We knew he was miserable. gloatgloatgloat What would she tell him if/when he asks about me? What could she tell him if/when he asks about me? gloatgloatgloat
Sure enough, the email we were expecting arrived yesterday. He is "in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect (him) at all..."
Now, for those of you who don't know or who don't remember...my divorce from the SGM was not good. Very few divorces are. But we had been making it work, managing to stay friends. Until this woman came along. For a while, I tried to blame her entirely. Finally, though, I had to admit that he was an adult and capable of making decisions on his own. His choice to behave in these ways, agree to these demands and take these steps. She may have been the one to put the ideas in his head, she may have been the one pushing him to do them ~ he was the one who finally, at the end of the day, had to decide Yes, I will do this, say this, behave this way. And the choices he made were vile. One of the last things I ever said to him was "SGM, God help your soul" because what he was doing was so completely contrary to the man I thought I knew him to be.
He contributed to a schism in my biofamily that, well, created the necessity for the word biofamily. And while that relationship has healed, it can never be what it once was (and I'm not saying different=worse. Different=different. I'm also not going to elaborate hugely here because it's not the focus of this post so just trust and go with me. Thanks.) Crow Mother and my mom made choices around the divorce that have lingering effects to this day (different=different.) And then he made choices around his new relationship that made Crow and my mother's choices obsolete ~ and the three of us were left holding the remnants of a family, wondering what the hell had happened. And now, he was back.
Crow Mother and I waited for the email we knew would come. I'm in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect me at all... Crow wrote me and said "I have no desire to gloat (but I understand yours!!!!!) but no sympathy, either. He did, indeed, bring it on himself."
I read those words over and over and over again. I'm in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect me at all... I read those words and I looked down at my hands and there was my beautiful ring. I looked over and there was my beautiful man. I looked around and there was my beautiful life. And I realized ~ I have no desire to gloat, either. The SGM's unhappiness doesn't make me happy. Doesn't bring me pleasure. Like Crow Mother, I have no real sympathy. And yet...the gloating, superior, neener-neener-neerer feeling that I expected isn't there.
So I kiss on my dear Lithus. I joke with Timber and snuggle Lionel and write my three pages per day and plan to go visit the grandkid and light a fire to hold off the rainy day and and and...And when the SGM crosses my mind, I'll think it's a shame that he let his life become what it is. And then I'll go back to my life.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
She and I wondered and speculated. He must be on deployment. There would be no way he would be contacting her if he were at home and Wifey would know. We knew he was miserable. gloatgloatgloat What would she tell him if/when he asks about me? What could she tell him if/when he asks about me? gloatgloatgloat
Sure enough, the email we were expecting arrived yesterday. He is "in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect (him) at all..."
Now, for those of you who don't know or who don't remember...my divorce from the SGM was not good. Very few divorces are. But we had been making it work, managing to stay friends. Until this woman came along. For a while, I tried to blame her entirely. Finally, though, I had to admit that he was an adult and capable of making decisions on his own. His choice to behave in these ways, agree to these demands and take these steps. She may have been the one to put the ideas in his head, she may have been the one pushing him to do them ~ he was the one who finally, at the end of the day, had to decide Yes, I will do this, say this, behave this way. And the choices he made were vile. One of the last things I ever said to him was "SGM, God help your soul" because what he was doing was so completely contrary to the man I thought I knew him to be.
He contributed to a schism in my biofamily that, well, created the necessity for the word biofamily. And while that relationship has healed, it can never be what it once was (and I'm not saying different=worse. Different=different. I'm also not going to elaborate hugely here because it's not the focus of this post so just trust and go with me. Thanks.) Crow Mother and my mom made choices around the divorce that have lingering effects to this day (different=different.) And then he made choices around his new relationship that made Crow and my mother's choices obsolete ~ and the three of us were left holding the remnants of a family, wondering what the hell had happened. And now, he was back.
Crow Mother and I waited for the email we knew would come. I'm in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect me at all... Crow wrote me and said "I have no desire to gloat (but I understand yours!!!!!) but no sympathy, either. He did, indeed, bring it on himself."
I read those words over and over and over again. I'm in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect me at all... I read those words and I looked down at my hands and there was my beautiful ring. I looked over and there was my beautiful man. I looked around and there was my beautiful life. And I realized ~ I have no desire to gloat, either. The SGM's unhappiness doesn't make me happy. Doesn't bring me pleasure. Like Crow Mother, I have no real sympathy. And yet...the gloating, superior, neener-neener-neerer feeling that I expected isn't there.
So I kiss on my dear Lithus. I joke with Timber and snuggle Lionel and write my three pages per day and plan to go visit the grandkid and light a fire to hold off the rainy day and and and...And when the SGM crosses my mind, I'll think it's a shame that he let his life become what it is. And then I'll go back to my life.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Writer's Block
I think those may be the two scariest words in any author's vocabulary. They are right up there with "stage fright" for performers and whatever the equivalent is for visual artists. It is my greatest relief to announce that mine is past.
Here's my secret ~ I hadn't written a word of fiction in about three months. For the 6 to 8 weeks prior to that, I had been struggling. My words were coming harder, more stilted, less regularly. And then they ... dried up.
The nonfiction was still flowing strongly. My latest book was completed and has been edited within an inch of its life and more times than I care to count in record time. Every single article I owed my little indie paper got written beautifully and well. And while I haven't necessarily been as prolific as I may have been in the past, Pobble Thoughts got regular updates. But my fiction? Gone. Novels? Nope. Short stories? Nothing. A clever email to a friend to make her smile? Not even that.
I won't say I've never been more frightened in my life. I have been. Bottom line is, this is only work. However, it is not an overstatement to say I have never been more frightened in my professional life. And this is coming from a woman who once had a knife pulled on her while she was working single coverage at a shelter.
First, I am very end-game oriented. While I have a verbal agreement to publish the next two novels and have submitted proposals with a date, I have no signed contract. Where it stands right now is more along the lines of "Yeah, when you get it finished, let us know and we'll go from there." Well...guess what? Apparently, I don't work well with that kind of vague timeline. I thought that I did. I would've told you that I did. When I have deadlines, I work consistently and calmly toward them. I do not procrastinate. I do not wait until the last minute. I do not do better under stress (I don't do worse, mind you, I just don't do better, either). So...why would a deadline be important? I didn't think it was. It is. Who knew.
Second, the book that comes out in February didn't need editing. Oh, it needed punctuation and typo help. There were a couple sentences that got reworked. But it didn't need editing. As my editor put it, "I can make this book different; I can't make it better. Don't change anything." Which was amazingly, indescribably, earth-shatteringly, mind-blowingly flattering. Until now. Now, it's really tough to be the brand new author who is so good she can write a publishable first draft. I found myself agonizing over every phrase, every segue, every character choice. This is not conducive to getting words on paper or computer screen.
TTG, I have resolved both of these issues. I unofficially took on NaNoWriMo and the goal of 2000 words per day. That rate wouldn't have completed this novel (it's longer than NaNoWriMo suggests/requests/demands/challenges) but it gave me a deadline. Even if it was a self-imposed one, it was still external in a weird way that you either understand or you don't because I can't explain it. While I haven't met that 2000 words per day goal, I have written again. Almost every day. I have officially announced two, more realistic deadlines to my trade organization. This is scary ~ in that good way. So, deadlines handled. Lithus came up with the other solution: Pretend you're someone else. I thought about it. This other writer is still only on her second novel. Edits are desirable and anticipated and expected. Hell, to think this other person could write a novel without needing editing is foolish and unrealistic on anyone's part. And amazingly enough, this person doesn't have writer's block, either.
*whew*
So, as I continue NaNoWriMo, my posts may (or may not) be a little sporadic. Just know I'm here. I'm well. And I'm writing. :)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Here's my secret ~ I hadn't written a word of fiction in about three months. For the 6 to 8 weeks prior to that, I had been struggling. My words were coming harder, more stilted, less regularly. And then they ... dried up.
The nonfiction was still flowing strongly. My latest book was completed and has been edited within an inch of its life and more times than I care to count in record time. Every single article I owed my little indie paper got written beautifully and well. And while I haven't necessarily been as prolific as I may have been in the past, Pobble Thoughts got regular updates. But my fiction? Gone. Novels? Nope. Short stories? Nothing. A clever email to a friend to make her smile? Not even that.
I won't say I've never been more frightened in my life. I have been. Bottom line is, this is only work. However, it is not an overstatement to say I have never been more frightened in my professional life. And this is coming from a woman who once had a knife pulled on her while she was working single coverage at a shelter.
First, I am very end-game oriented. While I have a verbal agreement to publish the next two novels and have submitted proposals with a date, I have no signed contract. Where it stands right now is more along the lines of "Yeah, when you get it finished, let us know and we'll go from there." Well...guess what? Apparently, I don't work well with that kind of vague timeline. I thought that I did. I would've told you that I did. When I have deadlines, I work consistently and calmly toward them. I do not procrastinate. I do not wait until the last minute. I do not do better under stress (I don't do worse, mind you, I just don't do better, either). So...why would a deadline be important? I didn't think it was. It is. Who knew.
Second, the book that comes out in February didn't need editing. Oh, it needed punctuation and typo help. There were a couple sentences that got reworked. But it didn't need editing. As my editor put it, "I can make this book different; I can't make it better. Don't change anything." Which was amazingly, indescribably, earth-shatteringly, mind-blowingly flattering. Until now. Now, it's really tough to be the brand new author who is so good she can write a publishable first draft. I found myself agonizing over every phrase, every segue, every character choice. This is not conducive to getting words on paper or computer screen.
TTG, I have resolved both of these issues. I unofficially took on NaNoWriMo and the goal of 2000 words per day. That rate wouldn't have completed this novel (it's longer than NaNoWriMo suggests/requests/demands/challenges) but it gave me a deadline. Even if it was a self-imposed one, it was still external in a weird way that you either understand or you don't because I can't explain it. While I haven't met that 2000 words per day goal, I have written again. Almost every day. I have officially announced two, more realistic deadlines to my trade organization. This is scary ~ in that good way. So, deadlines handled. Lithus came up with the other solution: Pretend you're someone else. I thought about it. This other writer is still only on her second novel. Edits are desirable and anticipated and expected. Hell, to think this other person could write a novel without needing editing is foolish and unrealistic on anyone's part. And amazingly enough, this person doesn't have writer's block, either.
*whew*
So, as I continue NaNoWriMo, my posts may (or may not) be a little sporadic. Just know I'm here. I'm well. And I'm writing. :)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Not Really Back But...
I'm still wicked busy so am not officially posting right now but I had to brag about a friend. Go check this out: http://neo-prodigy.livejournal.com/tag/stranger+than+fiction (no, it's not a live link goddammit. Cut and paste please. Stoopid computer...) And be sure to note the Kermit avatar 'cause that's so what I'm doing over this news!
Those are Pobble Thoughts (sorta). That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Those are Pobble Thoughts (sorta). That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
The Thing to Remember
For those who supported Barack Obama and are now basking in the glow of his election, it would be easy to forget that there are people who have woken this morning angry, afraid and more ostracized than ever. For those who supported John McCain and are now dealing with his electorial loss, it would be easy to believe that the enemy won.
What I would ask us all to remember is that we all share a common goal. We all want the United States of America to be stronger, healthier, safer and more stable. We want this country to be everything it can be. Gloating will do us no good. Pouting will do us no good.
Yes, I speak from the winning side of the table. I have, however, more often than not, spoken from the other side of the table and have tried to always speak these same words, hold this same attitude. We are all Americans. No one is more real than anyone else. No one is more loyal or patriotic than anyone else. No one's feelings are any more ~ or less ~ valid than anyone else's. We do not have to agree. We do not have to like. We must find a way to come together now, as a country, as a people, and reach our common goal.
Personally, I think the men who can help us do this is won last night. You don't have to agree with me. If I am right, though, or if you are, these are the men we have. And we are what we have. Male-Female. Rich-Poor-and Everything In Between. Black-White-Asian-Latino-and Everything Else. Gay-Straight-Bi-Transgendered. Christian-non Christian. City Mice-Country Mice-Suburban Mice. Plumbers-CEOs. Wage Earners-Salaried. We are America. We are Americans. None of us is going anywhere. All of us have a right to be here. We must work and live and come together.
The word "hope" has been and continues to be bandied about. Here is my hope: that we can become a unified nation again. That we can disagree and agree and fight and argue and hug and respect and understand as a single people, a single nation. Maybe I hope too much. But I don't think so.
To quote from one of my favorites: These men, no matter how much we may disagree with them, they are not ribbon clerks to be ordered about - they are proud, accomplished men, the cream of their colonies. And whether you like them or not, they and the people they represent will be part of this new nation that YOU hope to create. Now, either learn how to live with them, or pack up and go home! In any case, stop acting like a Boston fishwife.
Take a few days. Bask in the glow. Wallow in the anger. But then... well, then it's time we all stopped acting like Boston fishwives. And that's the thing to remember.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
What I would ask us all to remember is that we all share a common goal. We all want the United States of America to be stronger, healthier, safer and more stable. We want this country to be everything it can be. Gloating will do us no good. Pouting will do us no good.
Yes, I speak from the winning side of the table. I have, however, more often than not, spoken from the other side of the table and have tried to always speak these same words, hold this same attitude. We are all Americans. No one is more real than anyone else. No one is more loyal or patriotic than anyone else. No one's feelings are any more ~ or less ~ valid than anyone else's. We do not have to agree. We do not have to like. We must find a way to come together now, as a country, as a people, and reach our common goal.
Personally, I think the men who can help us do this is won last night. You don't have to agree with me. If I am right, though, or if you are, these are the men we have. And we are what we have. Male-Female. Rich-Poor-and Everything In Between. Black-White-Asian-Latino-and Everything Else. Gay-Straight-Bi-Transgendered. Christian-non Christian. City Mice-Country Mice-Suburban Mice. Plumbers-CEOs. Wage Earners-Salaried. We are America. We are Americans. None of us is going anywhere. All of us have a right to be here. We must work and live and come together.
The word "hope" has been and continues to be bandied about. Here is my hope: that we can become a unified nation again. That we can disagree and agree and fight and argue and hug and respect and understand as a single people, a single nation. Maybe I hope too much. But I don't think so.
To quote from one of my favorites: These men, no matter how much we may disagree with them, they are not ribbon clerks to be ordered about - they are proud, accomplished men, the cream of their colonies. And whether you like them or not, they and the people they represent will be part of this new nation that YOU hope to create. Now, either learn how to live with them, or pack up and go home! In any case, stop acting like a Boston fishwife.
Take a few days. Bask in the glow. Wallow in the anger. But then... well, then it's time we all stopped acting like Boston fishwives. And that's the thing to remember.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Speechless...
...And thankful.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you your country back.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Happy Thoughts
Those of you who have been long-time readers may (or may not) remember several years ago, I fell up the stairs at the Divine M's house and broke one of the little bones in my left foot. My doctor told me to wrap it, ice it and stay off of it for 3-5 days. The FE brought over dinner and wine one night and, amazingly enough, my foot didn't hurt much. She also coined the phrase One Footed Pobble Hop for the dance I do when I'm excited. It has since become simply the Pobble Hop but it is still her creation.
I am now 3000 miles away from the FE. Luckily, I live in the same house with Lithus. Because I have, once again, broken one of the little bones in the top of my foot. This time, it's the right foot rather than the left and I didn't fall up stairs (I whacked it on a poorly placed rack at a department store, in case you're wondering) but the result and cure are the same. Wrap, ice, off it.
Which has given me a lot of time to think, as I am only in day two of my three day cure, and I have been thinking about things that make me happy.
* Playing Clue with my family. It's my favorite board game. I own it ~ a Christmas present the last year my dad was alive. But it's in storage in Worcester and, given the fact that it was a gift when it was a gift, I haven't played it in a while. Lithus bought it for me the other day and he, Timber and I played several rounds. You know what? It's still a great game.
* Writing. As I've mentioned here, I've been blocked. I've been really, really blocked. It's probably been 6-8 weeks since I've written anything fictional and another 4 before that since I've written anything good. But the Universe gives us what we need and, apparently, I needed a broken foot. Because I have been writing today. Incredibly, incredibly productive. I am superstitious enough that I won't proclaim my block gone. It's been one day after nearly 3 months. And I wrote today. Which is a huge something.
* The Orleans Candle Company. They are down in Portland, which is further than I would like it to be but not nearly as far as Salem, MA. And they sell supplies the way I am used to stores selling supplies.
* French manicure forms. These are little strips that you can use to give yourself a French manicure and have them have clean lines and look nice.
* Halloween/Samhain. While there were too many people to honor this year, that's the way it happens sometimes. But it was good to release the crap that I let go of and plant the seeds I planted. It's working already. And we got trick-or-treaters. Not many but enough. My favorite was a teenager dressed as a stock broker. He had a suit with the tie loosened and jacket askew, he'd done makeup to give himself heavy 5 o'clock shadow and had a bottle in a brown paper sack tucked in his pocket. We carved pumpkins into Jack o'lanterns, which I love. Timber and Lithus used patterns for the first time. I used a pattern and free-formed one (yes, I got two because mine were little.) I have never seen white pumpkins before but got one this year and carved ghosts into it. Oh yeah ~ happiness.
* NaNoMo. Which stands for National Novel Month, in case you don't know. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. I have never participated before. I'm not officially participating this month. And, I'm unofficially borrowing it in hopes that it helps break the block. So far, it's working. I also love the knowledge that other authors are out there, working, creating, churning away. The world needs books and stories. It's nice to know they're coming along.
* My new jacket. It's actually a top, not a jacket. So it's a jacket but it's not outerwear. Yes, that's probably the better way of describing it. It's fitted burgundy velvet with lace around the sleeves and collar and corset lacing up the back. And it's bee-yoo-tee-ful.
* My shoes from the Lovely Cats. These were my birthday present from her this year. Actually, she got me a Target gift card. But still. They're from her.
So yes, lots of happiness these days. And lots of gratitude for the happiness.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
I am now 3000 miles away from the FE. Luckily, I live in the same house with Lithus. Because I have, once again, broken one of the little bones in the top of my foot. This time, it's the right foot rather than the left and I didn't fall up stairs (I whacked it on a poorly placed rack at a department store, in case you're wondering) but the result and cure are the same. Wrap, ice, off it.
Which has given me a lot of time to think, as I am only in day two of my three day cure, and I have been thinking about things that make me happy.
* Playing Clue with my family. It's my favorite board game. I own it ~ a Christmas present the last year my dad was alive. But it's in storage in Worcester and, given the fact that it was a gift when it was a gift, I haven't played it in a while. Lithus bought it for me the other day and he, Timber and I played several rounds. You know what? It's still a great game.
* Writing. As I've mentioned here, I've been blocked. I've been really, really blocked. It's probably been 6-8 weeks since I've written anything fictional and another 4 before that since I've written anything good. But the Universe gives us what we need and, apparently, I needed a broken foot. Because I have been writing today. Incredibly, incredibly productive. I am superstitious enough that I won't proclaim my block gone. It's been one day after nearly 3 months. And I wrote today. Which is a huge something.
* The Orleans Candle Company. They are down in Portland, which is further than I would like it to be but not nearly as far as Salem, MA. And they sell supplies the way I am used to stores selling supplies.
* French manicure forms. These are little strips that you can use to give yourself a French manicure and have them have clean lines and look nice.
* Halloween/Samhain. While there were too many people to honor this year, that's the way it happens sometimes. But it was good to release the crap that I let go of and plant the seeds I planted. It's working already. And we got trick-or-treaters. Not many but enough. My favorite was a teenager dressed as a stock broker. He had a suit with the tie loosened and jacket askew, he'd done makeup to give himself heavy 5 o'clock shadow and had a bottle in a brown paper sack tucked in his pocket. We carved pumpkins into Jack o'lanterns, which I love. Timber and Lithus used patterns for the first time. I used a pattern and free-formed one (yes, I got two because mine were little.) I have never seen white pumpkins before but got one this year and carved ghosts into it. Oh yeah ~ happiness.
* NaNoMo. Which stands for National Novel Month, in case you don't know. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. I have never participated before. I'm not officially participating this month. And, I'm unofficially borrowing it in hopes that it helps break the block. So far, it's working. I also love the knowledge that other authors are out there, working, creating, churning away. The world needs books and stories. It's nice to know they're coming along.
* My new jacket. It's actually a top, not a jacket. So it's a jacket but it's not outerwear. Yes, that's probably the better way of describing it. It's fitted burgundy velvet with lace around the sleeves and collar and corset lacing up the back. And it's bee-yoo-tee-ful.
* My shoes from the Lovely Cats. These were my birthday present from her this year. Actually, she got me a Target gift card. But still. They're from her.
So yes, lots of happiness these days. And lots of gratitude for the happiness.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
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