The Good with the Bad

The day began with insomnia

drifted into lateness

and fell into despair

One found dead, the news feed reads

the reaper’s  prize

at last

sorrows grips friends

still other silent cheer the end of the road

two kids in a doctor’s office sick with the flu


two strangers cling to life

victims of happenstance

attended by the best

No news is good news or so the fellows say

No news is bad news worries the friends

beloved ones

Victory arrives late

lesson learned, acceptance obtained

a child born

new shoes,  credit extended ,

then end of an abusive relationship


No clever words need

or cliques expressed

Just another day

the good with the bad

the bad with good

perspective the only means of definition



Book Review: It Takes a Village to Kill Your Husband

A9nUfo4CYAAHCf8It Takes a Village to Kill Your Husband by Jethro Collins

Available: Kindle $2.99 and Paperback $9.49

This was just the brain candy that I needed to get me ready for the holidays. After a semester of reading literature to analyze for my students, I really needed this book. It was fun and flirty and even when I thought I knew where he was going, he managed to surprise me. And, like another reader, I kept going with the book just to see how ridiculous it was going to get.

The story follows the self-made decorator Hollis Whitney and her love-hate, but mostly hate, marriage to straight-to-DVD director Frank Fielder.  While lamenting her upcoming 40th birthday, she spies Frank diddling his latest starlet, she decides that Frank has to go.  The problem is, that Frank won’t go quietly with a divorce and would rather see her dead than let her go. So, Hollis opts for murder.  When her incredibly fake Hollywood friends get wind of her plot, things really go into high gear as the women, who were all just going through the motions of society life, begin to work together and form real friendships.  Just like the heist movies of old, every player in the tale brings something unique and necessary to the mix.

The book was a little rough in the beginning. I didn’t like Hollis and I didn’t like her friends.  Hating her husband was just too easy and really not worth it.   It took a while for me to get attached to the characters.  Not because of the writing, but because of the use of foul language in the disclaimer which was only funny after I got into the book.  Highlighting the word cunt, probably wasn’t the best of ideas.

In the end though, I loved this book to the point that I am buying it for Momma.  She loves romances and it may just keep her from killing Papa.

To learn more about the author visit him at or follow him on twitter.

Second Day of Gratitude

I am grateful for my depression. Grateful for the moments of joy that I feel in between the lows create by years of ugly mental paradigms, negative self-talk and off kilter brain chemistry.

It makes me appreciate the friends new and old who have stuck by my side when my brain has been in a negative loop and I’ve spend too much time dwelling on things I cannot change.  They haven’t punished me for things out of my control and see the woman fighting to get better and healthier as beautiful. They acknowledge my struggle and support me the best way they can.  When I go on too much they tell me or change the subject in a not so subtle way to let me know it is time to give it a rest. Sometimes they tell me where they are so I understand that I am not so alone.

1472978_576704382385047_77682498_nIt makes me appreciate that they aren’t perfect and I can’t expect them to be.  They won’t always have time for me and my problems which also makes me examine those problems a little more closely.  If it is really an emergency then they will be there as soon as they can be. If it is something I can handle on my own I do.  It may be frustrating to them when I don’t reach out when they think I should, but I am getting better at knowing when to ask for help and when I really can do it on my own.

My depression makes me less likely to sweat the little things as it were because my time and my emotions are simply too precious to waste on them. I need to spend my time working on the big picture and the details that really affect it not the other way around. It doesn’t matter if the picture frame is crooked if the roof is leaking. My priorities need to be in line with my goals.


Smiles are precious things.  So are tears. And I have been learning that sometimes I just need to cry and say whatever ridiculous thing has been twisting my emotions.  Sometimes they are silly. Sometimes they aren’t.  But either way, it is far better to have them out than in.

“In 900 years of space and time, I’ve never meet anyone who wasn’t important before.” From  Doctor Who

And that includes you and me. 

Too Many Ideas

This month, I have challenged myself to write a blog post everyday until my birthday.

I thought two days ago that it would be difficult; especially since I was so tired I could barely keep myself awake. Today, however, my mind was flooded with ideas. The deluge didn’t stop even when I was in the shower.  I am faced with great ideas and not enough time to get them all down before they fade.

Fading thoughts is the curse of every writer.  Other well known curses include the Well Intentioned Friend Curse as well as the Aren’t You Done Yet Curse. I have experienced all three of these curses this month along with the Oh I Can See You Have Lost Weight Curse. The last was experienced within ten minutes of weighing myself and discovering three pounds has found their way back to me.

No matter where you leave excess weight, it always finds its way back home. Personally, I try to leave a false trail back to my annoying neighbors’ door. No offense, Mr. Smith, but your girlfriend was trying to pick up clients in my front yard again.


And Then Her Wig Fell Off – A Review

Review of Then Her Wig Fell Off: Sometimes We Just Need to Laugh

By Will Bevis

Available through Amazon for $1.99

This e-book delivers on its promise to make you laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a full body down to your toes laugh that heals the bit of our soul that life wears down. It is the true story of a man who went into get his haircut and came out with so much more. His “Magician” is more than just a stylist, she uses her magic to make all of her clients feel better.

I truly wish that I had this book when my mother went through her cancer treatments and plan on sharing it with her as soon as possible.  She has her own “Magician” who gives her more than just a hair. She makes my mother smiles and honestly cares about her.  I know because the last time she went in, I was there.   Life no matter how bleak always has a ray of sunshine. Sometimes getting your hair cut or nails done is more about the people doing it than the final product.

Bravo, Mr. Bevis, Bravo….

Testing Day

Getting ready to head out the door earlier than usual for the great FCAT test.  My classroom has to be sanitized of anything which might help the students. Plus, there is paperwork, I need to complete for my  evaluation.  Oh, and then there is the mound of grading begging to be completed.

The life of a teacher and a writer are truly similar; there is always something you need to do and never enough time.

Please let it be so..and can I have a few more hours in the day.

No TV….

There isn’t one in the house; no space has been preserved for a future one.  The reason is purely economic.  There are other more important things for me to spend my money on at the moment.  Paying down my debts, saving the money for a washer and dryer so I don’t have to truck my laundry across town, oh and getting some carpets for the new place.

I do watch TV on the internet which suits my schedule and doesn’t eat up all of my time. Occasionally, I become mesmerized by other people’s TV’s. Still it hasn’t enticed me to spend the money.

Would I like to have one? Yes, but it isn’t important enough to put my goals at risk.

Makes sense right? Then why do people look like I am nuts when the fact is revealed. The questions flow and then come to an abrupt stop when they realize that a) I am not bother by it or b) I still watch television shows just not like they do.

Eventually, they accept it even if they think it is strange.  I am just being me and living without a tellie is my choice.  Not a judgement of their behavior; keeping up with the Jones as no appeal for me. Maintaining the roof over my head does.

10,000 Steps a Day…

It’s nearly noon and looking at my pedometer, I am more than 8,000 steps away from that goal. The first day with it, I didn’t do very well; only 1,700 steps recorded. Of course, I left the darn thing at home while I ran errands. Today, I put it on right after my second cup of tea.

According to the formula on the website, I need to walk 14,000 steps a day to lose weight.  It makes me wonder how many steps to happiness or a good hair day.  It makes everything seem so simple, my internal cynic can’t help herself, she knows it won’t be easy. The site means to be helpful with graphs and the like.  So far my chart is flat lining which is a little depressing.  Maybe after a week of recording my steps, it will start to pick up.

In the last couple of weeks, I have lost three pounds and a couple of inches.  Some things are fitting better, but weight loss isn’t my main goal. I want to be healthier, a little freer from pain. My knees ache from an accident I had as a child.  My neck and shoulders from an auto accident.  Oh and then there is the old ticker, it likes to skip a beat now and again.

Before you go feeling all sorry for me, please know that I don’t feel sorry for myself and really hate when people tell me they wish I didn’t have to deal with this or that. It is really nice and I understand that you want me to have less to deal with, but these are the cards that my choices and life have dealt me.

Yes, I want to be healthier and it would be really nice to fit into some cute new clothes.  The changes that I want to make in my life aren’t going to be completed  overnight; a healthier me means undoing some of the habits that I have cultivated over the years.  Patterns of thoughts that have lead me deeper into depression and with that weight gain and a shaky self-esteem.

Right now, I am at 1,930 steps for the day. In another twenty-minutes, the laundry will be half way done and it will be time for a nap.  When I get up, there is a puppy to walk and more reflecting to be done.

Ready…set … wait…

For the last week or so, my fellow teaching diva, Lisa, as been bugging me to go out with a friend of her’s; a nice young man just looking to go out and have some fun.  On the surface, it is what I am looking for, but I am not ready.. not ready to open my world up again. It is one of the reasons that I haven’t taken advantage of other offers as kind as they were.

On the surface, it would be just for fun, but… well there it is again, once the “but” pops up things get messy.  There is a big part of me that isn’t ready to “move on”. What I want … well that is the question, isn’t it.

Mysterious Me

In Theory, a place I don’t actually live, I want to fix up my new place, get ahead of my bills and continue writing. Not actually living in the land of Theory, things are far more complex. I do desire companionship, love and more.

Choosing to be single doesn’t mean that I have given up or am waving the white flag. It does mean, for me, at least that I am choosing to spend time working on Lu; choosing to figure out somethings that been calling my heart, mind and soul for a while.

Sounds mysterious, well, that’s the best I can do for the moment on explaining where I am in life.  As much a I want things to be simple, they won’t be as long as the dreaded “but” is still present in my life.  I know, Lisa, and my other friends, want me to be happy and for that I love them more than words can say, but for now I am content to live this life of mine; listening to the laughter of friends, sharing the confusion with my students and just being imperfect me…

Exams, Cars and Delays

This week my students take their mid-semester exams. It also marks the beginning the semi-annual whine festival; especially among the seniors.  Their continued enrollment and graduation is on the line.  Participation in the program is voluntary.  If students aren’t benefiting from the program then they can go back to their home school.  If they aren’t attending or they are failing they aren’t benefiting from it. It sounds rough, but it is the reality. There is a waiting list with anxious parents calling daily.

We celebrate their success, but it has to be genuine success.  If they don’t their assignments or attend class, there is nothing for to cheer them for.  Somewhere along the line they learned to expect to things to be given to them, even grades.  They think if they do the work, no matter when or how, that they should get credit. They talk back and do all manner of disrespectful things.  Yet, We love them.

Each and everyone of them.

Not all of them are whiners. But they are all teenagers and mothers. They all deserve a quality education, even if they don’t understand why they need it.

So we give them chance after chance, but then there comes the day when their nine lives have run out and there is nothing more we can do or should do. That’s when we have to stand back and let them have their dose of reality. We let them fail, fall on their bums and dust themselves off.

Please don’t respond telling me that I am a saint.  I am not.  Plus, it makes me uncomfortable when people call me or my fellow teachers one. We are all human beings.

Beings that love what we do and don’t give up on the girls, but that doesn’t make us saints.  We are beings with mortgages, heart aches and issues.

I am real person with faults and problems. Right now my car is in the shop and I don’t have the money to free it. The pantry and frig are nearly as empty as my checking account. I am stressing over that and the fight my furry kids had. One has a gash in his leg, wounded tail and damaged ego.  Jack spent the entire day on top of the cabinets watching his canine brother.  My dearest Boogie is scratched up and feeling guilty.

For a couple of hours last night, I was angry and then fell into a pit of self pity. I crawled out with some furry love and the wise words of an old friend.  I don’t have the confidence of a saint nor do I want to placed on a pillar; it is too hard to balance and they are awful high.

Also, saints don’t procrastinate. Their bad habits are wash away by time and admiration. Mine haven’t been cleansed. No amount of praise is going to transform me into a saint.  I delay at times doing I know should and needs to be done; mostly because getting started on something is often the hardest thing to do. I have issues and anxieties which still cause me to put off things and pull the covers over my head.  Just try getting me into the doctor’s office.

I even delay writing, something I love. Maybe it is stress… and being a real live human being complete with issues sans the halo.