Nothing quite like waking up on a Wednesday and being served breakfast in bed by my amazing husband. When I asked him what the occasion was, he replied, “Just ’cause I love you, that’s all.”
I am honored to have been nominated by the adorable duo at Faraday’s Candle for the:
SISTERHOOD OF THE WORLD BLOGGER’S AWARD
***Scroll to the bottom to see your questions for the Rules and Questions if you have been nominated…
The original questions that Bloggers Faraday’s Candle have asked me are as follows:
1–Do you like wearing fuzzy slippers? Every chance I get
2–What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Today…mocha almond fudge
3–What is the funniest thing that happened to me as a kid? I tried to dye my hair red once, and it turned out deep plum, and my happy accident started a trend in school
4–What is the funniest thing that happened to me while blogging? I thought I had deleted all of my widgets and cried and cried, and then, someone tipped me off that they were all just rendered inactive and waiting for me at the bottom of my admin page
5–Who is my favorite singer? I just love Damien Rice right now
6–What is my favorite song? His Eye is on the Sparrow
7–Who is my favorite Pixar character? Jesse from Toy Story II & III
8–Who is my favorite Disney character? Belle
9–What is my favorite Disney movie? Beauty and the Beast
10–Have I ever gotten a brain freeze? Regularly when I order a Frappuccino
Thank the blogger who nominated you, linking back to her site
Put the Award Logo on your blog
Answer the ten questions they sent you…my nominees see below:
Make up your own 10 questions and nominate up to 7 more recipients.
***My Ten Questions:
1–If your life right now had a theme song, what would it be?
2–What actress would play you in a movie about your life?
3–What makes you laugh?
4–Why do you Blog?
5–Who are your inspirations living or dead?
6–If you could go back in time or flash forward to the future, which would you choose and why?
7–Do you have any favorite reads? (TItles/Authors/Bloggers)
8–Describe yourself in three adjectives.
9–Who are some of your favorite Bloggers? (Care to link them?)
10–What is the meaning of life?
I am nominating:
Sometimes our journeys get tangled up in someone else’s path, and, for a brief moment, we walk alongside a complete stranger only to find that, with every step, an unlikely friendship forms before our roads diverge again.
Almost every year, the university near our suburb asks us to take on a few of their new credentialing candidates, and some of us throw caution to the wind and agree. These doe-eyed, soft-spoken, smiley faces step onto our archaic campus, backpacks in tow like students themselves, and take on the hardest job they’ll ever do for free…err, I mean credit. The university seeks our site out deliberately (insert evil cackle) in hopes that if one of their own can survive working at my school, then that new, burgeoning teacher can survive anything. It’s sad, but true.
I knew going into this new school year that the students I would have were, as a whole, a very pleasant group, unlike some groups that have sent some of our teachers on year-long hiatuses to recover. So, I offered to mentor a student teacher with the understanding that the victim…err, I mean candidate, would likely survive without getting eaten alive by my upcoming clientele.
Now, don’t get me wrong–I’ve been at this site since January 2000. It’s obviously my comfort zone, and I can honestly say that this is the best group of lovelies I’ve had in years. I’m not trying to paint this horrific work environment in our dilapidated school, or persuade you to assume that any of our students are the future dregs of society because it’s simply not true…I’m just sayin’ that it takes a special kind of resiliency to handle working in an environment where actual teaching is the last thing we get to focus on when we step onto campus each day.
The interns I’ve mentored over the years have come in all kinds of flavors. I have had to dismiss some, I’ve held the tissue box for others, I’ve even chased a few down the hall trying to escape over the years. But then, along comes my student teacher this year, and I am completely surprised. She arrived two days before school started, all bundled up in shyness, and embraced the students as if they were hers day one, and immediately, I knew that she was going to make it.
As vastly different as we are as individuals, in the classroom, we were one, functioning as a perfect, synchronized team, with the students in the forefront and her own education hiding in the background. She soaked in everything I had to offer, she put as many steps in per day in the classroom as me reaching each student individually—maybe even more, and she grew into her own confident, capable teacher-self in record time. In all of the years and all of the interns I’ve taken under my wing, I’ve never had one so amazing as this person.
So, it didn’t surprise me that the university decided that it was time to have her move on and grow in another challenging environment. And, with a quivering chin and a heartfelt, “Thank You”, I, and all of her students, bid her farewell on Friday. Although, she is leaving, she is most definitely not gone, as I can say that she is no longer my student teacher, interning her way through the credentialing program, but she is now my beloved friend.
Two roads converged in a most serendipitous way, but we parted only one path, as we continue to forge our unlikely friendship on our journeys as teachers. Godspeed, my comrade, and ‘good job’! We are all going to miss you! I know that you will succeed, and all *is right in the world now with you carrying this teaching torch onward.
When I was eleven, I scribbled out my first novella, I’ll Never Be the Same Again, on loose leaf paper and tucked it into a binder, forever creating my own destiny. I love writing. WRITING, not typing–I like typing, don’t get me wrong, and I happen to be fast at it–but writing, oh my, I get like a shark about to take a bite out of life…my eyes glaze over at the aroma of the crisp, fresh pages of a journal, and I feverishly tear into it with endless amounts of words.
I was that girl throughout school that rivaled Harriet of Harriet the Spy in every way, meticulously documenting everything that was happening to me every moment of the day–each glance I would capture in passing down the hall from the crush I’d have while on my way to the next class or all of the juicy details of the gossip my friends would share over lunch in the cafeteria. I was a “Dear Diary,” kind of girl for years and years. I also started plotting out and writing scenes for a full-length novel before I could even drive a car. I would write ideas down on anything I could get my hands on–gum wrappers, receipts, napkins–you name it. I even penned hundreds of poems and short stories, all by hand. Sadly, all of my stories starred my friends and their crushes, so I would let them keep them, and I never made second copies, so I’ve lost those first aspiring love stories, but all of the journals are still in my possession, locked safely away in storage, and someday, when I feel the muse coming, I’ll add YA (Young Adult) Romance to my types of genre that I write.
When I received my first word processor, my handwriting lifestyle changed. I gave into the lime green glow of the words and veered away from the handwritten means of self-expression. It was clunky and squealed out awful noises, but it made school a little easier, and seeing my words in print without having to type them on the family typewriter that had sticky keys was heaven-sent. It wasn’t until I actually graduated from college with my BA that I received my first computer. Yeah–I’m that old, just turned 44 last month, actually. This new computer of mine was too slow for the internet, but the word-processing capabilities allowed me to begin another novel along side the one that I had completely outlined and written scenes for in high school. A hundred or so pages into the new novel though, I upgraded the operating system, and I lost the book. I stopped writing for a while altogether in my dismay. When I finally came around again, I went back to good ol’ fashioned pen and paper until I owned a ‘real’ computer and another and another and…
I still journal in between bouncing writing around all of my Apple devices–my desktop, MacBook Air, my iPhone, etc. I’m covered when I have something to say. I no longer have to rummage through my purse for a gum wrapper like the good ol’ days of my youth. And, I still journal. In fact, my aunt-in-law blessed me with a new journal for Christmas that has a picture of my young daughters on the front cover along with the words, “Brooke’s Journal,” and, by the end of the day, those crisp, fresh pages had lured me in, and I had filled several of them up with an outline of a new Romantic Comedy novel that I plan on turning into an eBook once it’s written just to have “Indie Published” under my belt as a writer.
There’s something special about the pen and paper. I’ve even studied graphology a little bit–the way people write revealing how they feel, what their personality is like, and who they are hidden in the curlycues of their writing. My penmanship is atrocious. Even I can’t read my writing sometimes. It’s very loopy like an endless string of smiley faces, and it comes as no surprise to me that when analyzed it means that I’m open, positive, always moving forward, and generally happy. Yeah, that’s about right. I can easily go into a rage like any impassioned writer could, but overall, if I’m writing something down to be analyzed, it’s likely that my eyes are glazed over with the joy that comes with handwriting anyway and capturing that thrill in my scribble is bound to happen.
It’s been one of those weeks, you know. It started on Monday before the crack of dawn, only, instead of getting ready for work, I’m hurling up everything I ate for the last 24 hours because the stomach flu always waits for that perfect moment to strike. You know, the one right after you just had the most delicious bowl of homemade, Mexican tortilla soup, so that it will take years before you can ever eat that again. Such a prankster, the flu. And then, when I go ahead and take on Tuesday, I try to wing it with my students in the library on the laptops with a program that I’ve only messed around with since last week, and, of course, nothing goes right, you know, but that doesn’t deter the librarian from deciding that I’m going to help her pitch the program to the staff on Thursday because, “It’s great,” she says, “But don’t tell the other teachers about all the glitches.”
I don’t even know where to begin with Wednesday. Should I mention the laryngitis, or the sinus infection, or the fact that both of my children were tossing their cookies all day thanks to that sneaky flu? Meh, I’ll just skip it and go straight to Thursday because, you know, that day was loaded with lots of fun. The staff room conversation includes the mutual understanding that we were all sensing a wild vibe among the students since they had come back from Christmas break, and then one of our newer, younger teachers on staff blurts out, “Well, I finally had the masturbator in class today! I knew someday it would come to this. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon in my career!” And, we all laugh because we’ve all been there and had to deal with that. We teach middle school, you know. So, some of us offer her advice, but no words of wisdom can ever replace the truth that comes with realizing that it’s never going to be okay to say, “All right, students, take out something to write on and something to write with, and pull your hand out of your pants, please.” But wouldn’t it make our jobs easier if we could every now and then, you know? And, we do our best to assure her that it might not ever happen again, but it doesn’t seem to help.
And then, later that day, I’m squeaking out my best, “Hurrah!” to the staff in the library on the laptops that no one can log onto to see half of the wonderful program that the librarian has just given a huge speech on because it’s glitchy, but I’m not allowed to mention that, you know. And, I go home and watch, “Misery,” because there’s nothing quite as satisfying as an older movie about a stalker fan of someone’s writing, and I still manage to stay on top of all of my Blogging101 assignments no matter how sick everybody is, you know, because I’m finally getting the hang of it. So, Friday is a really big deal to me because I’m hoping I’ll get some rest knowing that there’s a three day weekend coming. So, my brain decides to start celebrating around 3:00am, you know, and, even though I’m wide awake, I can’t do anything productive because I feel like crap, and I know I should’ve stayed home all week and recovered from everything, but I didn’t because I’m in denial, and, so Friday just keeps getting longer and longer, and then I get home.
So, I’m just hanging out on WordPress at the moment because I always get insomnia and have a tendency to ramble on and on when I don’t get enough sleep, and now it’s officially Saturday. I really hate that, you know….
As a newbie to WordPress, I’m navigating my way through Blogging101, and tonight’s assignment for me is a two-for-one. Starting a meaningful blog, among millions, is like trying to decide which town I want to move to and call home by staring at the Earth from outer space. I am niche writing to a certain degree, angling my blog posts to lovers of reading romance and writers alike, especially as I get closer to my goal of getting my almost-polished Rom-Com manuscript traditionally published. I will also continue to add my twisted sense of humor on life’s mundane happenings, as this is the easiest way to keep the laughter bubbling up in my life.
I spent the greater part of yesterday evening just deciding on a theme, which I still have the urge to keep tinkering with, and, tonight, I am catching up on reading and responding to some of the blog posts on this vast WordPress Earth and simultaneously trying to figure out how to link my post back to some of the posts I participated in. I stumbled upon one that immediately caught my attention because of its great hook. The blogger responded to a Blogging101 assignment that was to incorporate into a post one line from the nearest book–line 3 on page 82, to be exact. My nearest book is the one I wrote that I keep bouncing back and forth to on my laptop as I’m still in the final editing stages. Here’s the passage:
After she finished her glass of wine, he leaned in, “It’s time to leave. This tour eventually ends with a bottle of our Estate Flagship wine, and I will make sure you leave for home with one tonight. There’s just one more experience I want you to have,” he said, standing up.
“I’ve already had the equivalent of a full glass of wine and a half a flute of champagne with the two mimosas we had this morning. At some point, I may need a nap.”
“So, you already want to sleep with me?” he teased.
This is a glimpse of page 82, line 3 and a few other lines surrounding the moment to give you a better understanding of the scene that I am using to build this blog post around. Yes, you guessed it–a savvy winemaker is slowly seducing the heroine of my love story one wine tasting at a time.
I hope the link works, and I hope you stick around if you’re discovering me for the first time. I explain who I am in my About the Author link, and I explain why I am writing in my very first post—a whoppin’ eight posts ago. I do promise many more to come, though, as I keep tumbling towards this place I’ll be calling home for awhile.
I’m not a vain person by any means, but I do value my self-maintenance and spend my money wisely on products most of the time. I’m not above cutting corners with certain things in my beauty regimen. For example, I went for a power walk yesterday–also known as chasing my lil’ princesses around and around the block on their bikes for 40 minutes–and called it good. They had fun, and I worked up a sweat. Workout Hack accomplished.
When it comes to beauty products, I’m also willing to try out just about anything before I commit. When I do though, I’m fiercely loyal. If I like it, regardless of the price, I’m sold forever and ever. Case in point, I’ve been a Wen Girl for years. (It’s okay to laugh, but I have frizzy/curly hair and nothing else works as well, you see…). If I’m shopping around, I’ll try the frugal route first and buy anything and everything to vet out my possibilities before I do the same with expensive products. I use word of mouth, online reviews, infomercials–you name it–because I’m always in pursuit of that perfect beauty product that will miraculously transform my life. Then, I’m sold and will stock up on it like a doomsday survivor.
Makeup is optional for me on the weekends and vacations, unless I’m headed out the door going somewhere other than the grocery store. Unfortunately, in my case, sporting a natural look still requires some prep work. I’m not into a lovely glow unless I’m at the gym, so I achieve the matte finish that I want when I’m not wearing makeup with PRIMER.
Once upon a time, I had this one particular primer that I absolutely loved. I could only get it through a distributor and had hoarded enough of it to the point that the company discontinued the product for a few years before I realized it. How could they? It was ‘the one’. You know, that perfect primer that mattified your skin to a soft, dull, mono-toned shade of baby’s butt smooth. They left me wandering the aisles of Ulta helplessly in search of a primer replacement.
For the past few months, I’ve been accumulating several under $10 primers in search of something to get me by until I find ‘the next best thing’ product that I can sell my soul to in exchange for the natural look. My pursuit has been some of the best girly-girl fodder for my RomCom writing I have tangled myself up in for a while now. I even tried one $5 product, that not only made moisturizer unnecessary, it managed to turn my face into a shimmering night club, rivaling Edward Cullen basking in the sunshine on any given day. So much for being a true primer. Other products I’ve purchased are, at best, good enough to put foundation on top of, but that’s about it.
Then, I did something very typical of me recently. I fell for an unusual Beauty Hack. I had seen it around on Pinterest, but I never thought of trying it until my primer crisis. Someone was claiming that Monistat’s Chafing Relief Powder Gel was comparable to Smashbox’s Primer. I was intrigued. Is it possible that a clear gel intended for inner thighs, bikini lines, and other intimate areas prone to chafing could be a suitable replacement for an expensive primer? I had to try it, if anything, for another good laugh at my own expense on this mission of mine. I even giggled a little when I found myself at the store facing an awkward moment while I was scanning the products in the angry-v section by the condoms looking for this mysterious elixir that I could slather all over my face in order to look pretty.
The punch line…I’m still using it regularly while I keep looking for ‘the new one’. I wear it naturally with or without moisturizer, and, either way, it dries to a silky matte and keeps my skin tone and shine in check all day long. Given its intended purpose, it’s also non-irritating. Forget having the soft skin of a baby’s butt, my face now mimics the fleshy inner thigh of a desperate woman, and, for the time being, I’m okay with it. My primer pursuit is definitely going in a scene in one of my romantic comedy books someday, and you can laugh and say it’s true–you heard it here first. But, if you happen to know of a good primer, I’m all ears–I mean face.