Carys Weldon Blog
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Ain't it the Truth!!!
A woman goes to the doctor for her yearly physical.
The nurse starts with certain basic items.
"How much do you weigh?" she asks.
"115," she says.
The nurse puts her on the scale.
It turns out her weight is 140.
The nurse asks, "Your height?"
"5 foot 8," she says.
The nurse checks and sees that she only measures 5' 5".
She then takes her blood pressure And tells the woman it is very high.
"Of course it's high!" she screams, "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!"
Flour and Water
How come when you mix water and flour together
you get glue?..
and then you add eggs 
and sugar... and you get cake?
Where did the glue go?
NEED AN ANSWER?
You know darned well where it went!
That's what makes the cake Stick to your BUTT
2 Comments:
Ay yi yi!! I can relate allllll too well to that one.
Though according to my last doctor's visit (Tuesday), I'm losing weight. I knew I was just by the way things fit, but it's nice to have official verification. :)
There's water in cake?
I like the first pig picture. Ours never line up that neatly; even when they're eating, they're jostling each other around.
I think my dream of yesterday speaks to many things:
My fear of seeing people I can't help.
My fear of seeing someone hurt.
My fear of people keeping me from doing things I think I need to do. (The big one!)
I think I mentioned that I'm a psychic already. The important thing with dream intrepetation is recognizing the fears or problems contained within the dream. Once you do that, you can say, wow, I didn't even know I was struggling with this on subconscious levels.
I always knew I didn't like to see people hurt, especially ones that I can't help. But realizing that it is a fear within me, helps me to see...the fear is really a fear of guilt. What if it happens and I can't fix it and I have to live with it? See how dream interpretation leads you to delve into what's really bothering you?
So, from there, I realize I have to work on absorbing messages wherein I tell myself that I am not responsible for the pain out of my circle of reach. Therefore, I must see what is within my circle of reach, do what I can there, and let the rest go.
I cry for stories on the news. I meditate for world peace.
I don't need to give those up. I can continue to believe that meditation for world peace and healing will rise up and join with the sentiments of others who are doing the same, and maybe make a difference in the polarity of world energy.
But, if I don't see a big change in my lifetime, I don't need to make myself sick over it.
The last concept the dream showed me was that I worry about THINGS and people keeping me from, say, my writing. Things being life, health, whatever.
From that, I need to reinforce my true knowledge that I am in control of my time. I am the one that says what will take me away from this or that. (including my writing.) It is not the people or things keeping me away from writing. Those are my choices. My priorities.
Am I the only one that struggles with prioritizing? I mean, on the surface, I know that my family is the most important thing in my world. But sometimes I resent the time away from writing. The dream, though on a different subject, actually speaks to my priorities. The person who steered me away from the victim was a family member. (My mother, actually.)
She has always told me what to do, what I should believe, etc. But here I see that I have an inner conflict with some of the things she's taught me. While you can see that she led me away for my own protection, you can also see that I struggled with putting myself first over the victim.
The bullshit gets deep, doesn't it?
If someone has a dream they'd like me to interpret, I'm game. Post it in comments, and I'll use it as a post with interpretation. We'll see if I'm accurate or not...?
2 Comments:
As far as prioritizing, I hear ya! Sometimes I put everything and everyone ahead of what I want or need to do. It's not healthy because it totally ignores me.
I'm actually working on this and organizing with The Organized Writer. We'll see how it goes. *s*
I can never remember my dreams well enough to tell anyone about them.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Hair and bad dreamsI washed my hair hours ago. It's long. It's still wet. It's so annoying. I just want it to dry and be pretty.
I think it's going to rain today. I'm guessing that it'll open up and pour down about the time my hair dries and I step outside.
I have to go to the doctor again today--to tell him that the last medicine he gave me has made me achy all over--to the point of terrible muscle cramps EVERYWHERE. I never had a thigh cramp before. I never had a shoulder muscle cramp before. (What the heck are those muscles called?)
And the meds he gave me sent me through the migraine roof way too many times this last month. (Cymbalta) And gave me psychotic dreams. I'm serious, I could stay on that stuff and get a career going on writing creepy thrillers. Every single night for weeks now, I've dreamed (multiple dreams a night) of death, murder, and once of resurrecting someone I watched die.
I don't have god complex, and I wasn't going around doing the killing myself. (Which is good, right? That would be the sign of worse psyche problems, I think.) But, vivid colors, deep emotions, and lots of trauma...set on a thriller screen in my brain that sometimes woke me up breathing heavy. Now, that's some messed up shit...that medication, I mean.
One very disturbing dream...I walked outside of a hotel and saw a young girl under trash in the alley. I thought at first that she was dead. I could see that she'd been raped. I tried to go to her, and realized she was alive, because she groaned and moved.
But I was steered away from her, and told that I didn't want to get in the middle of whoever put her there. Taken back to my room--
My conscience screamed out. I escaped (thriller moves over the balcony on an upper level, then down mazed hallways.)
I ran outside and screamed that we had to help the girl, would somebody please help?
I got a lot of dirty looks. I felt total panic. Desperate.
And worse, she was gone when I found my way to her. I sat down in the dirty alley and wrapped my arms around my knees and cried. Cried because I'd let someone lead me away in the first place.
Be a dream interpreter here. What do you think it means?
I'll tell you what I think it's all about tomorrow.
2 Comments:
I'm not going to try to interpret that dream. I hope you feel better soon, though.
"Shoulder muscles" usually means deltoids.
I did some dream interp a while back, but I'm really rusty and couldn't begin to really say.
The type of shoulder muscles depends on where. Like the other post-er said, it could be deltoids. BUT if it's the muscle sloping up toward your neck, it's the trapezius.
And I do way too much transcription for my own good (though it does provide me with some easy answers sometimes *s*).
Monday, August 28, 2006
ContestOkay, for all you regular blog readers...this next month, I'm gonna give out a gift certificate for the person who posts most often in response to my posts.
We'll start today. I actually get the comments in email form, and can move them to a contest file and count them at the end of September.
Now, to me, it costs me the same whether I send you, say, $10 in cash via paypal, or a gift certificate for Amazon or Barnes and Noble. So, if you have a paypal account and prefer your prize to come in cold hard cash dollars, that's okay with me.
Commenting on that, for example, would be a great time to get started with your thoughts on prizes and contests like this. What do you think?
Now, last month, Rinda and Jen posted most, so I'm gonna give them a prize just because I want to. So, you two need to email me with your personal preference on cash, or gift certificate because I'm gonna let you choose what you get.
Cheers!
~Carys
4 Comments:
That's so cool! :)
My vote goes for the gift certificate. I always need a built-in excuse to buy books. lol
Count me in! My vote's for the AMZ GC. Books - where are thou? ;-)
I'm supposed to think?
If I ever post enough to win, I'd prefer a GC since I don't have Paypal.
The GC would be great for me, thanks.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
HERE'S A RIDDLE FOR YOUPantyhose quiz
Q: How many animals can you fit into a pair of pantyhose?
Now, think about it......
Ready?
Answer:
10 little piggies
2 calves,
1 ass,
and an unknown number of hares.
Now I bet you didn't know that!
And of course one (1) . . .
2 Comments:
I would have never guessed; that is hilarious.
Thanks for the giggles, snickers and laugh.
I got 'em all except for the hares. I didn't think of that one. :)
0 Comments:
I found this website--I thought you might want to check it out.
http://www.letssaythanks.com/
You can pick a thank you card for the troops and Xerox sends it for you. Or, for you artists, you can submit a design.
I, for one, am grateful that there are men and women who believe in protecting our freedom enough to put their lives on the line.
Whether you believe in or agree with war, or what they're doing over there, doesn't really matter. What is important, in my opinion, is giving those people who are so far away from home an encouraging word.
I have a rainstorm with lightning here, so I can't sit around and ramble this morning. Gotta disconnect my modem. We go through a lot of those here and my latest one is a very cool, very expensive dsl modem. Can't stand to lose that!
0 Comments:
Saturday, August 26, 2006
My crazy little worldI thought I'd posted yesterday. I know I sent something for my web people to post here to go with my commentary. Sorry--I wonder if it was all in my crazy little mind, now that I see it isn't there.
So, hm.
Yesterday, I woke up thinking...heck, I really DO want to put some entries into the Ozarks Creative Writing contests. Deadline is today. I got busy. I have three more I want to do. Nothing is yet printed. Can I enter, oh, eighteen contests in a day or two? And will any of those entries be worthy of note when the judges see them? (I can probably get them done. But the other is left to the wide world of who knows.)
I'll let ya know how it turns out. Yesterday was the first day in ages that I was able to sit in front of the computer for any length of time. Take two muscle relaxers, crank up the Nickelback. AND I stopped to cook two meals (which I almost never do these days.)
Which means I was on some kind of good roll yesterday.
Today, I must apply myself to the last three competitions and go back over the crap I wrote yesterday. Believe it or not, the one that is absolutely not coming to me is the short story for the (get this) EROTICA competition. LOL
Can't think of a dang thang. Got those sex droids in my head, kickin' around. And another idea that is based on Criss Angel. Have you seen that man? (Hot)
My sister and some of my daughters assure me that the guy has sold his soul to the devil. He's an illusionist, a dare devil. Owns Mindfreak productions. I think he'd be perfect for a hero type in one of my books. So, look forward to that happening.
And then, if I didn't have enough on my mind--with owing a couple editors some new books, and one editor another book
It looks like you might actually see PACK TABOO by next Friday. That is, if I can go through it one last time between here and Monday.
So, if you could send some positive mental mojo my way, it would all be to the good. I think you all should because I am getting ready to pull names for the gift certificate...and you want your mojo working on my brain while my hand is swirling over the names in the hat, so that my stubby fat fingers itch to pick up your monniker.
I can't wait to see who wins! Woohoo! How exciting is this? I love to pick winners!
1 Comments:
Positive mental mojo heading your way. :)
Good luck on the contests. If we enter the same ones, maybe you'll get first and I'll get second. Or vice versa just to change it up a bit. lol
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Hot sex? XXX warningIt seems that some of my blog readers are too shy to post online but don't mind sending me emails. I'm fine with that. I'm just glad you're reading it!
One of the most common requests I get is "Put more hot sex on the blog, the hotter the better."
So, to keep those "Hot sex readers" happy, I'll write you a quick scene, spur of the moment here. I hope it pleases ya. ;)
Here goes:
After his shower, Mark laid down on his bed. He'd had a long day at work, felt worn out, and just needed a little "pick me up" nap. Ten minute power deal. That's all he wanted.
He ran the towel roughly over his body and tossed it into the corner, then splayed out on his bed. Ah, it felt good to get some air to all his parts. The fan above his bed sent heavenly drafts of coolness over him.
Seconds later, his eyes closed, and he was gone to dreamland.
A perfect place where silky fingertips slid over his body in soft tickles, toyed with his nipples, circled and scooped downward, swirled in the hair below his navel and made a beeline downward...
Then veered left onto his thigh, inside his upper leg, swirled again, and trailed across his nut sack, took a firm hold, then danced over to the other thigh.
He would have opened his eyes, but he knew the tease would end abruptly. He held his breath, waiting, hoping for more.
The fingers--with manicured nails that obviously belonged to a woman--had him picturing his wife naked. His beautiful, imperfectly built, but amazingly amorous wife. Part of him wanted to sneak a peak, to see if her breasts were swinging close to his body.
A brush of her hair confirmed that his fantasy was nearing a good spot. Like her fingers, the tips of hair fluttered over his abdomen.
Her hand moved upward, cupping his scrotum again, and then tickling up his shaft.
He groaned. "Ah."
Take hold, baby. (The thought came unbidden.)
She did. Standing his now erect manhood upward, she breathed on it. Blew a few times--which made him grin to himself.
"Let me feel your tongue, now," he thought.
Instantaneously, the moist flick touched the head of his cock. Once, twice. Then her mouth swallowed it whole.
Like it was an ice cream cone dripping from all sides, she went after it, and he found his hands entangled in her hair--trying not to force her down on it, but his hips were arching beneath her, thrusting upward, deep throating her.
One of her hands cupped the sack beneath his cock and squeezed spasmodically with each thrust.
He wondered, if he came in her mouth, would she swallow it this time?
Or should he stop and tell her to get on her knees for the climax?
How far should he go with his eyes closed? How far would she go?
Would she stop and climb atop him, straddling him for the final fuck?
No. He was gonna release in her mouth. He was getting too close.
***
She smiled when she saw him passed out, naked on the bed, clean and fresh. He was so sexy and vulnerable there.
It only took her a second before she got the idea to pounce him. She definitely wanted to get on top and fuck him hard. She'd been thinking about it all day.
But he wasn't quite up to that. Not in his present state.
So, she stripped. Considering her options as she stepped out of her clothes, thinking it was a shame his eyes were closed, because he might like the way she slid her bra straps down one at a time, and the way she wiggled out of her hiphugger panties.
She went for the fluffing. The tickle and tease.
The suck and draw. The...how long can she do it before he gives it away that he's not asleep any more.
When his hands gained a grip of her hair, she knew they were there. When his hips began to buck, she knew she had the rhythm he needed.
Deep throat. Hard suction.
Down again.
When he was right there, she pulled her lips free, knowing they felt (and probably looked) swollen. She waited for his reaction. It came out in a groan of desperation. He bucked again, letting the head of his dick beg the air for what it had lost.
Should she go down and suck it all? Or climb on?
She slid over his thigh, centering herself between his legs. Kissed his cock again. Licked her lips, and went down one more time. Gave it some good hard suction coming up, then released it and waited with a wicked grin.
"Oh, baby, don't do me like that," he said. "Don't quit now."
A chuckle escaped her. "You know, we are messed up. You are always saying don't quit, and I'm always saying, hold still."
Climbing up over him, she kissed him with a lip rubbing, bottom lip sucking, enter the dragon French kissing that mimicked what she'd done for him down below...knowing he could taste his own fluid in her mouth.
His hand came around the back of her head, holding her mouth to his, and they tongue fucked while she worked her way up to sit atop him...impaling herself on his shaft.
A little bit desperately, he held onto her head with one hand, and put his free hand to one of her breasts, then let it find its way to her hip where it got a real grip and guided his thrusts.
She pulled her lips free, put her hands on his chest and worked at an angle and rhythm of her own. It worked friction against his--but that was good.
His frustration heightened and her climax came nearer and nearer...
And she, of course, said, "Hold still, so I can get it."
"Fuck," he said, his lips twisted in pleasured pain. He reached up, pulled her head down and kissed her hard. "You are so fucking sexy, I can't stand it."
"That's it," she said...and came with one last push and slide...which brought him to his dream's end.
Then she draped herself atop him like a blanket. They snoozed for a half hour or so and he woke up with a smile on his face, nudging her--saying, "Hey, hon. Let's go out to eat. I'm hungry."
"Mm," she moaned with a smile of her own. "Where did you get such an appetite?"
"Right here, at home," he said, kissing her on her forehead, then on her lips. "I love...this. You." He kissed her again, and she pretended to be asleep so he'd have to keep it up if he wanted her up.
(End)
Did you like it?
0 Comments:
I'll be drawing for a giveaway in the next couple days. So, if you haven't read my July newsletter, you need to do it--because it tells how to get your name in the drawing. Just wanted to give you all a heads up. Winner's name will be in the August newsletter which will go out soon.
0 Comments:
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Midweek Wa-waWednesday. I don't wanna be a whiner but I am one, I guess. I fell asleep on the sofa yesterday afternoon and put my neck and back out worse. I've had a splitting headache ever since, didn't sleep much, and woke up with a migraine. My appointment with the doctor isn't until next Tuesday.
THAT ASIDE, I have a children's story that is under contract but needs editing asap, so I have to work this morning, like it or not. Actually, it was written with a setting in Missouri because the anthology it was directed at was based in Missouri but the publisher sold the anthology to Hard Shell Word Factory and now all the stories (except one, and mine wasn't chosen to be that one) have to be re-placed into other parts of the country so that the book will have wider sales appeal.
I did write five pages on my sex droid story yesterday. I'm not sure if it's gonna work. I may have to scrap that and try again.
Oh, yeah, and I have this annoying rash around my neck. I swear, somebody just shoot me.
AND my husband is talking about leaving me again--this time to go to a job in New York. We need the money since we have two more mouths to feed, (and a car payment of over $500 plus insurance) but man...I HATE the idea of him not being here. I'm tossing and turning more for that, reaching out and touching him a lot in the night to reassure myself that he hasn't left me...
What I need is to get over life's little daily dramas and write a bigtime best seller. If I did, I could sponsor some great contests--with cruises as the prize or something. So, wish me well on that idea.
Gotta find some muscle relaxers and pain killers so I can get busy. Do you think it's silly to sit in front of a computer with your sunglasses on? (Blocking light helps the migraine a little.)
NEW RESOLUTION: No more health reports or whine fests for awhile. Taking all suggested topics. What would you like me to post about?
1 Comments:
Whine-fests? Haven't seen those. Just because you talk about health concerns doesn't mean you're whining.
I've honestly thought about sunglasses while working on the computer, but the ones I have don't really go over my glasses very well (they clip onto my glasses) and are too much a hassle than anything else.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
lip lubeMy kids say I'm addicted to Carmex...like it's a bad thing. I believe one's lips should always be ready and pliable in case you get a kiss.
However, I noticed that they may be right. I have two tubes here by the keyboard, one by my bed, one in the bathroom, one in my car, one in my purse, and one by the place I sit when watching television.
What do you think? Is that the sign of an addict?
It has occurred to me that I should widen my horizons on the lip lube thing. Perhaps it would not seem like an addiction if I spread different flavors and brands around. What is your favorite lip lube?
3 Comments:
Carmex is evil. It promotes dry lip so you do get addicted. My lips peeled constantly when I used that stuff.
I tried the Bert's Bees colored lip stuff and just loved it, but they peeled again.
I stick with moisturizing lipstick mostly-- usually Maybelline. Sometimes Chaptstick.
By 
Rinda Elliott, at
6:36 AM
If I use Carmex, my lips get extra-dry and peel. I have some Bert's Bees stuff, but I forget to use it. If I use lipstick regularly, my lips don't get dry. But if I'm not going anywhere and just staying home, I don't wear lipstick. I have some clear lipgloss that has a fruity smell and taste that I bought when I was selling Avon. I use it more often than anything else.
Two recommendations for Bert's Bees--I guess I'll have to hunt some down!
By CarysWeldonblog, at
7:13 AM
Monday, August 21, 2006
Deadlines and DepressionHi, Friends. How are you doing today?
I'm struggling with deadlines and depression. I have a few things I should do that are hanging over my head, making me feel bad that I've left them so long. It would have been much better if I'd got to them right away. But now I've let them drag on so long that it's just...well...making me sick.
(Editing a book I should have finished months ago. That one is the worst thing bothering me.) I don't know why I can't make myself do it.
Then, there's a deadline this weekend for (oh) twenty things that I know I need to pull together and I haven't even taken a look at the list. Not enough time. Can't focus. I'm tired all the time, but can't sleep unless I take something to make me sleep.
I daydream about moving to Mexico where medication doesn't require a prescription. Where I could get anything I wanted, uppers, downers. Pain killers. Brain numbers. Hey, I meant numb, not numbers. Why do we put that b in there when we're talking about being nummmm?
2 Comments:
I'm sorry you're down. It's going around. I'm having a hard time bringing things to focus,too.
By Rinda Elliott, at
12:26 PM
I'm having trouble with word verification lately so I can't always post. It doesn't always load. Annoying thing, eh?
By Rinda Elliott, at
12:26 PM
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Tease from Pack TabooOkay, to set this up--Pack Taboo should be released soon. This is Letha, a bastet (cat shapeshifter) and Barklay (a werewolf).
...he took a lot of time kissing me. You know, kissed me once, looked at the spot, kissed me again right in the same place. Then, tipped his head, found another spot.
Did the same thing again and again. Over and over. (So long I forgot about the dead body in the corner.)
Experimenting?
At first, I kept trying to kiss him back—throw a pucker up here and there, try to snatch his lips. Then I realized that he was ignoring me, completely and totally intense on his little, private game. It took me a bit to get it.
He systematically covered me with kisses. One side, then the other. High. Low. On my nose. Temple to temple. All along my jaw line.
And, oh, when he went down under my ears…trailing kisses and a few tongue flicks toward my breasts, I thought I was gonna die. I mean, I was totally squirming under him.
See what he did to me, does to me, every time? Has me writhing beneath him.
He used his teeth to pull the bow of lacing loose (on the corset.) Yeah, he had to tug a few times. I loved it. Thought, Gaia fucking sexy. Then he just nudged the top with his nose, let his tongue slip under the edge of it.
My hands were on his shoulders. We were fully dressed. And I had never been so hot in my life. Except maybe back in the car with him.
After all my years teasing men, I knew what a tease really was. No wonder they clawed after me.
No wonder he had me at the first hooded glance. I didn’t know if I was coming or going, but I knew I wanted to come more than anything else.
Did I mention that a garou tongue is about as long as anything you’ve ever seen? Not that I was looking. I was too busy groaning with my eyes closed. But I felt that marvelous wonder of his work its way, at an angle, under the leather shirt, to tingle-touch my nipple. Yeah. Tingle-touch. That arousing, almost makes you want to giggle, you can’t hardly stand it, type of tease?
First one. Then the other. Return to the first. Lave a little longer in its flick and lick, until they were both puckered up, begging to be sucked. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more. I reached up between us, and yanked the sides of the corset completely wide, begging, “Oh, my Gaia, get to it!”
He chuckled, pushed my breasts up—but damn if he didn’t do anything but lie like that, just enjoying the feel of my skin against his nose.
I groaned. Boxed him in the ears.
Not hard. Just enough to get his attention. To bring his head up.
I tipped my head up, too, and looked him in the eye. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”
He grinned. Now, let me tell you something about Barklay’s face. It’s pleasant. Not pointy. Not flat. Nicely rounded features. His lips aren’t fat, but they aren’t skinny. Same with his nose. In human, he just looks…happy. Like he was made to make you feel good.
Maybe it’s because, with me, he’s in his own little heaven. Or I see him that way because he makes me feel like I’ve gone and lost myself in tongue-fucking nirvana.
Whatever.
There’s a light in his eyes. I feel like it shines just for me. That he wonders how he got so lucky—every time he looks at my face.
Honestly, he said, “You make me crazy. It’s only fair.”
“Could have fooled me.” I couldn’t tell I was making him crazy. I mean, his whole body had been very still—just his tongue and head moving.
The growl rose up from down in his groin. I felt it roll up between us. He asked, rather dangerously, “Don’t taunt me into showing you how crazy I feel. I’m trying to make this pleasant.”
I felt like I’d had my whiskers popped. Confused. I ‘pussed’ my lips.
Bark growled again, rocked into me, so he could reach my mouth with his.
I have never been kissed like what he does. I mean, I never know what he’s gonna do next. Hard kiss, soft kiss. Tongue. Eat me alive. Always leaves me guessing. And every time I think I know how to meet him in the middle, he changes on me.
It’s good and it’s bad.
Makes him happy to know he’s got me like that. I know, because he chuckles every time he sees that look in my eyes. I stopped asking, “What the hell are you doing? I can’t keep up.” Or… “I don’t know how to—” Cut off with another kiss. Or the damn flick of a tongue to my nose.
He totally enjoys himself at my expense.
And, truth? I love the pleasure it brings him. I smile like an idiot in wonderland the whole time.
There is nothing neater than feeling him rumble from deep down, while he has me pinned. While he looks down on me in delight—at the prospect of all he wants to do to me—all he plans to do to me.
I revel in it. I just want to sigh, look up at the ceiling and thank Gaia. I never knew love—making love—could be so sweet.
Not that I’d ever tell him.
Sweet?
He wouldn’t believe I said the word.
The minute I thought it, I realized I had to do something. But, really, that’s how fast he had me. (How long had we known each other at that point? Not very long.)
I screwed up my face, and said, “Get on with it, or get off of me.”
So, you wanna see shock? You wanna see an instant change?
0 Comments:
Saturday, August 19, 2006
PlasterToday, I'll be at the Plaster Auditorium in the College of the Ozarks, gathering together with writers from Missouri, Arkansas, Texas, and Oklahoma. I do this quarterly. The group is called Ozark Writers League (OWL).
Most of those folks look down their nose at what I write. It's sort of funny, the snobbery I find amongst writers. The first book I wrote was classic historical literature. You wouldn't think anyone would look down their nose at that, would you? But they did. They don't like my publisher on that one.
So, I branched out, and started writing all sorts of things. I've won too many awards now (over ninety in three years) and I'm making steady paychecks from my writing, so that's making it hard for the snobs to say much.
One of the hardest things in the world for me is understanding why other people like to put people down. I'm sure it's because they feel bigger when they do it, but in my eyes, it just makes the belittler smaller.
My message for today, I guess, is...go, my friend, and judge not. Lift those around you up by being genuinely pleased in their successes. By edifying others, we rise to a higher spiritual path.
(Look at that. It ain't even Sunday, and I'm preachin' again. Sorry. ;) )
Have a great day. Help the people around you have a nice one, too. K?
Love ya,
Carys
1 Comments:
I have to agree with you!
I haven't been to my own writers' group meetings for about 2 months due to work-related stuff and I'm practically jonesing for some real writerly contact. *s*
Made my reservation at Inn of the Ozarks yesterday. Now if October will get here. :)
Friday, August 18, 2006
A Deep WellWell, it's always deep around here. Too much to do, not enough time.
I did not get any writing done yesterday. But, I helped my newly returned, newly married daughter and her husband. They both have jobs now. So, that's good.
And I spent a lot of time with my husband chauffeuring me around. (Still taking muscle relaxers. Not driving under the influence.)
We spent two hundred dollars on two kids for school supplies. My sophomore son had to have (get this): Crayons, markers (thick and thin), colored pencils, watercolors, glue, glue sticks, compass, calculator, God knows how many binders, book covers, notepads, pens, pencils (mechanical and regular plus extra erasers)...graph paper, too.
I wanna know where my tax money goes. Am I so old? Is my memory failing? When I was in school, most of that stuff was provided by the school. And we did our math in our heads and on paper. What's this bologna of having a calculator? I was informed that they get marked down on their grades if they don't have book covers. The only book cover I ever had was made from a brown paper sack...in class.
(And I won't even go into backpacks, school clothes, or the list of sweats for volleyball the team is picking out, and t-shirts for band (2)--and basketball shoes.) Wait. I just went into the list--sorry!
Tonight, I'll be at the Lonestar in Branson, chatting with other writers at a quarterly gathering with the Ozark Writers League, and then we'll all go over to the Motel 8 south of Branson and hang out with whatever editor/agent/speakers they've brought into town. That's usually interesting.
Tomorrow, I'll be going down to the Plaster Auditorium at College of the Ozarks for a book signing and all day writer's deal.
Today, I have to go pick up some books so I can do the signing tomorrow. But, I'm hoping to get SOMETHING written this morning before I have to go do that. Wish me luck. ;) But let's not hold our breath.
I have great plans for next week, though. Great plans of writing without interruption.
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Thursday, August 17, 2006
Squat, Squat, SquatGood intentions mean squat in my life.
Yesterday I was at my computer, had taken care of email, blogging, and all the basics, pulled up a WORD screen empty page, had my music going--and my newly returned home came into the room.
I waved but kept my headphones on. She spoke loud enough to get heard over them, "Are you too busy to talk to me?"
I peeled them off, and deafly asked, "What?"
That was all she wrote.
My daughter chatted non-stop. She had project plans for the day--which did not include me anywhere near my computer. So, that's what I got done on my droid story and other projects. Squat. Squat. Squat. Nada. Nada. Nada. Big fat zero, nothing.
I'm thinking things will change soon. She and her husband will get a job. My other two kids that are at home went to school today (first day back.)
I'll let ya know if I get ANYTHING done today.
Oh yeah...and my stupid little three pound yorkie, Mojo, keeps going into my daughter's room. He can't get out on his own. So, I spend half the day getting up to let him out--the little bozo.
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Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Rock on, BabyShe brushes her teeth and hair, pulls on some clothes and goes straight to the computer where she checks her email, writes in her blog, and gets ready to get busy. She puts on her birthday present from hubby--a $150 pair of Bose headphones and turns on the music--cranks it up big time--then gets lost in writing.
Wait. Randy Travis isn't gonna help me write anything snazzy. Where the hell's the good music? I found Angels Among Us. Churchy music. Disney classics. Damn. Can you see how this is going?
Wait. Randy's telling me he's gonna love me forever and ever. I love that song. Maybe I'll be all right. (until I find a better cd to write to.) Got any suggestions?
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Tuesday, August 15, 2006
The SwingSometimes I have trouble getting back into the swing of being a writer. Focusing on the screen instead of my kids and husband. But they make it hard. Take last night, for instance:
My married daughter and her new husband showed up last night. Well, she showed up and said she'd lost him somewhere up around Kansas City. So, her sister (the one that had the accident last year) and their dad went looking.
The married one had a walkie talkie that's batteries went dead. We got her new ones. They hadn't any more than left when the new son in law showed up. I asked him about his walkie talkie and he said that she wasn't answering so he turned his off.
It took them an hour or two after I called my husband's cell for them to get home. They were half way to KC already. (Yes, he drives fast.) Funny thing, he thought he'd seen his new son in law just around the corner from the house but figured that couldn't be right, so he kept on driving while our daughter tried the walkie talkie repeatedly.
And this morning, as I tried to pull up my blog here, the married daughter came in and chatted and chatted and chatted. It's great to have her home--and happy about being married and being here. (She wasn't spectacularly happy here as a 17 year old.) So, I enjoyed the chat but I kept trying to glance sideways at my nightmarish inbox and writing obligations.
One editor needs me to finish edits on a novel that was slated for release in April. (Yeah, I'm still working on that one.) One publisher wants information files on all my Carys Weldon titles that are in the queue. One agent wants to chat about the Kensington editor that has my stuff under review. One agent wants to talk about life in general. One fellow writer has asked me to join a project with her to do an anthology. Another asked me to read his story and comment editorially before he submits. (That's why I have the stupid editorial page on my website now, so that it slows down those requests--but still, I help friends if I can.)
All I really want to do is write about sex droids. LOL
But now I gotta leave to go get my hair done. (Will take about 3 hours because I have a lot of hair.) And I have workshop tonight, so I can get some help with that book I wrote in a week or two last month. I wrote so fast that I left out things like E on breathe. And I didn't capitalize the M in mother when she was spoken to (sometimes, anyway.) Minor stuff that needs proofread. And always the friggin' commas gotta be taken out.
What are people so anti-comma these days? When you see a comma in my books, stop, breathE, pause. The effect will be so much different than rushing through that line.
Ah. But that's what we have editors for. Telling us when to breathe.
With five kids times lamaze, and all the years it took, counting to ten--and a husband that makes me breathe heavy, you'd think I'd have a clue as to when to breathe and when to hold my breath, but no, I don't.
Sigh.
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Monday, August 14, 2006
Motel Sex (TMI post)I hadn't seen him in a month...but I had kids with me. What could I do?
I NEEDED sex, intimacy, naked time in bed with the man I love.
Of course, I thought about getting a second motel room--but the kids are under age. I could do it anyway, and make it clear that I was not to be bothered with petty pizza orders, and tell them to go to sleep early? They are 17 and 14--like that could happen on the best day, right?
But it was uncool enough for them to know we were gonna "do something" let alone have them in the next room.
I DID rent the room next door, but they begged a night at someone else's house so they didn't have to be close to "the action."
Is there anything that feels as good as the silky feel of skin against skin when some of that skin is someone else's?
The slide of ice down your throat and over your nipples on a hot night?
A cool wash cloth over your special places on a sweltering day?
Ice cream and hot fudge over your tongue--any time?
Mm. Those are good but skin on skin, a man's arm around your body while you sleep, cupping your breast, rubbing up against your back side, sighing in his sleep...now, that is heaven.
1 Comments:
Holy crap. Gotta go find my husband now.
By Rinda Elliott, at
8:37 AM
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Quick questionsDo you think that an android could be built with a sensitivity chip that made them simulate emotions? Like Data on Star Trek...?
Would it make more sense to have Sex droids or Sex Borgs?
1 Comments:
First question: Why not? I don't see any reason why it wouldn't be possible. Besides that, it's your story. If you can make it believable in the context of the story, does it really matter if it's realistically plausible or not?
Second question: I don't know.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
I'm back (again)I got in about an hour or so ago. It's now 3:28 a.m. Saturday, August 12. I've eliminated over 600 emails in my inbox...and learned that I've got some scrambling to do on a publishing deadline on an article I wrote (and sold already.) Here's the problem with writing nonfiction articles--you can write it, and it's all good, but when it actually goes to press, you have to go back through it, update and verify everything all over again, which is a total pain.
All I really want to do is write a story or two that came to me while I was on my trip. For one--Sex Droids. Don't you think that'll be worth reading?
I'll let you know as soon as I get that started.
1 Comments:
Yay! Glad you're back. :)
