bedtime quickie.

Just a quickie before I go to sleep…

No no… not that kind of quickie. The dirty things post was last night. [Though I wouldn’t say no to that kind of quickie… alas, John is asleep and I’m going to need new batteries…] 

Totally fell off track there. Hey, it’s late. Or early. I’m back now.

I saw this tonight:

book hangover.

This is exactly what happens to me… with reading and with writing. I think even more with writing… I cannot let go. My characters all have a piece of me. I can’t say goodbye.

I wrote about this almost four months ago… when this blog was new and most of you had no idea I existed. But please click over and read it now.

I kind of liked that post. And it was among the earliest to get comments… all from The Lonely Author which I didn’t realize until I linked the post just now. [And if you’ve never been to his blog, go and read right now. Like, read the whole blog. I adore his writing. I bet you will, too.]

The image above and this post led me to revisit my earlier blogging days. And I realize I had a lot of posts in the beginning that I really loved. God, did I ‘waste‘ them when my audience was tiny? No… not wasted… but… I think you should go back and read them all… you know, in your spare time. [I would wink now, but I can’t physically do that.]

Must get back to my book now. xo♥

 

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eight things that seem dirty but aren’t.

clean. dirty.

I have a dirty mind. I find the naughty and the dirty in everything. I guess that’s just the way I roll. Filthy… mind in the gutter… incredibly immature. Yep. That’s me.

My favorite is unintentional dirty. Those accidental words or gestures that you don’t realize are incredibly dirty until it’s too late? Hilarious. I know, I’m like a 13-year-old.

The accidental naughtiness seems rampant in my house. But maybe that’s just my skewed view because I have such a dirty mind. I manage to find the filth with ease… out of my own mouth, John’s, and sometimes even the kids. Thankfully, they are usually lost and have no idea why I’m laughing.

8 things that seem dirty but [probably] aren’t.

1. I wanted to see the globes.

The Golden Globes. Maybe. Come to think of it, I seriously doubt John meant the awards. Unless he means these two prizes under my shirt… 

 2. Mmm… these nuts are salty and delicious.

Peanuts. Although, saying ‘salty, delicious peanuts’ quickly is a whole new dirty. 

 3. I have to lick it really fast or it’ll drip all over me.

Talking about ice cream here, people. 

 4. I can take care of your box tomorrow.

You know, drop it off at the post office. But only if you take care of my box when you get home, love…

 5. Once you’re done stripping, let me know.

The bed… stripping the bed… 

 6. Mommy, how long am I going to have to suck on it before I get to the yummy center?

I swear to God, the kid was asking about her Tootsie Pop.

 7. Nick and I were going to play that game at recess, but he didn’t have his balls today.

Baahahahaa. Oh Zach… Maybe tell your pal Nick he shouldn’t leave home without his balls. 

 8. A picture: Every night while it’s running, my dishwasher speaks to me. Flashing the same thing at me… taunting me…

In December, I tried to tell myself it was a message from Santa, but I know the truth… even my appliances know the real me.

ho.

Yeah. HO. HO. HO. I get it, you filthy appliance. Quit mocking me!

 

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reblog: stigma is a red herring…

I think this post is exactly right – click over and read!

Stigma is a Red Herring-Let’s Turn and Face the Real Enemy

ClayaCaper's avatarBipolar First Bipolar Together

If you read nothing else I write. Read. This.

Seriously

Fighting Stigma is noble and necessary but it is not the Real issue

It is AN issue

But not THE issue

Stigma is in the minds of people

Stigma is not an action

And we need action

Even “ending” Stigma doesn’t really help us out if it isn’t accompanied by action

Our battle cry should not just be Stigma

It should be

EQUALITY

We need to start demanding Equality

Most specifically Equality in Healthcare but also in the workplace and in the Law

Because we are not treated Equally when it comes to Healthcare

We are not

In fact we are SEPARATED into a whole other category

Our illnesses not fit to be included in the Normal Healthcare System

Our serious chronic illnesses are relegated to the “Behavioral Health” sections

And anyone who has spent two minutes on the phone…

View original post 889 more words

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david bowie: my accidental hero

david bowie

When my friend found herself deserted two days before the show, she called and invited me to take her second ticket. We arrived six hours before showtime and lined up by the fence. About five hours later, the gates were opened. A peaceful stampede covered the stadium, filling the general-admission floor within minutes. [Damn, people were so much nicer then… it was the most mellow crowd-rush I’ve ever seen.]

We landed about fifteen feet from the stage. I wasn’t the fanatic my friend was, but I never said no to a rock show. And this was definitely a show.

It was amazing and it made me a huge fan within minutes. Rebel Rebel, Fashion, Heroes, Fame… it was just… incredible.

Farewell, Mr. Bowie. We will miss you.

David Bowie (8 January 1947 – 10 January 2016)
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transference of doom.

transference of doom.All my life I’ve been told to stop being so negative. Stop thinking the worst. Stop assuming everything will go wrong. ‘Don’t be such a pessimist!’ they’d say.

When I met John (which you can read about in this series), my negativity had reached a low point. Negativity already being a low point, I suppose this is redundant, but it fits. I hated my life, my loneliness, my roommates, my job… everything sucked. And I couldn’t hide how I felt. I hated that this would be John’s first impression of me. But somehow, he looked past all of that. Maybe my boobs looked really good that night.

I knew the negativity would never leave me entirely, but I did lose some of it. When it left me, I suppose it needed a landing site. A nice fertile brain where it could grow and blossom into a giant ball of doom.

And it now resides inside John.

He is more negative, more pessimistic, than I have ever been. (I suppose that may be an exaggeration, but it feels accurate.) When this part of him surfaces, I find it difficult to be around him. It’s always there. But when it takes him over full-force, I just… can’t.

I’m a hypocritical bitch because it broke me when everyone abandoned me for being the most pessimistic person in any given room. But I think this is precisely the reason I can’t be around John in his extreme-negative state. It’s not him. It’s me.

I’ve been in that deep hole of misery. I’m still there – I’ve never gotten all the way out. But I’ve clawed my way up from the bottom. I’m in the middle somewhere. I don’t want to be pulled back down. I know – hypocrite.

But, dammit, I try to be positive. I realize that probably made at least half of you laugh. I’ll wait for you to pick your laughing-asses up off the floor before I go on … … …

It’s true – I do try! Especially around my children. Zach is only 11 and he worries about everything! Things no 11-year-old should even think about. I hate that he has inherited that burden from me (I always assumed it was just from me, but maybe it’s from John, too). I don’t want the kids to hear either John or me saying anything overly negative and hopeless. Sometimes, I totally feel that way. But I don’t speak the words aloud when they’re in earshot.

John was a healthier, more positive person when we met. Over the years, while I’ve worked my ass off to cheer the fuck up and become healthier, John has done the opposite. He has become super negative, doesn’t take care of himself, eats junk and puts on weight, spends money somewhat frivolously.

He knows I struggle with happiness (and unemployment). He knows I want the kids be exposed to a positive, healthy atmosphere. We’ll never be perfect, but we have to try. Right? He doesn’t try. Not really. I’ve heard him tell the kids, ‘do as I say, not as I do.’ That doesn’t fly. If Daddy’s having a pile of Doritos (from the big-ass family-size bag that I hate having in our house in the first place) with his lunch, the kids want them, too. Of course they do! They see him eating them. And fuck, they’re kids! I’m just glad they both think soda is gross because John brings that into the house, too.

I have become less negative (and continue to work on that). And John has become far more negative. I’m not sure exactly when we crossed paths on my way up and his way down, but we’re nowhere near each other in that pit.

Is this turnaround – this transfer of negative thinking from me to John – is it my fault? I think I brought most of the pessimism into the relationship. Did I wake up his dormant negativity? Did I do this? And if my negativity made him this way, why don’t my strides in the other direction ‘rub off’ on him, too?

To anyone looking in from outside, he is the downer in our relationship. And I am the happy one! Me!

When did this happen?

We’ve had a personality exchange. Or at least a personality-share.

Hell, today I was in the shower (where all my revelations are born) and I came up with a detailed hypothesis about the new Star Wars movie. Definitely from John’s personality.

Transference of doom, indeed.

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limerick poetry challenge: immortal

I suppose I can’t say I’ve never written a limerick before anymore. I usually associate limericks with humor, but I kind of abandoned that association this week.

headstone

Limerick Poetry Challenge at Mind and Life Matters – This week’s prompt: immortal

You ask, “Do you want to live forever?”
I say, “Not if we can’t be together.”
Immortal and alone,
Crying at your headstone?
My dear, no, with you in death is better.

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six word story: sin.

This week’s prompt for the Six Word Story challenge is…

Sin

My story is posted as a comment at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller — if you like my story, please head on over and like my comment there. The most comment likes wins. And while you’re there, enter your own!

My story…

When he touched me, I melted.

xo ♥

 

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fiction friday 7: roses are blue.

fiction-friday-bg


fiction friday 7.
Seventh installment of…
roses-title-trans
  [But first: Blue 1 – Blue 2Blue 3 – Blue 4 – Blue 5 Blue 6]

dark-bluespots

Continued from part 6…

Kate let out a sigh, failing to control her tears any longer. “Des…” Again, she had to concentrate on taking a deep breath. “What are you doing?”

He stared at her until he reached her. Without speaking a word, he grabbed her into his arms. One of his hands sank into her hair, gently keeping her head against his chest. The other spread out over her back holding her body close to his. Kate couldn’t stop crying. She tried but she didn’t have the strength any more. She dropped her bag to the floor and let her arms hold him.

“Katie,” he said softly, “Please don’t tell me to go. I’m not leaving.”

She struggled to catch her breath so she could speak. But she didn’t need to. Her nod was enough.

He slowly let his arms fall away from her. His hand touched her face and brought her eyes to his. “Let’s go inside.”

Kate nodded again and reached down for her bag. She fished around for her keys, having a little more luck this time. Inside, she dropped her things and headed for the refrigerator. But before she did anything more, Des stopped her.

He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Honey, what do you need?” He bent to her and kissed her head.

She mumbled to him, nearly whispering. “My head is killing me.”

“Go lie down. I’ll bring you something.”

Kate nodded gently and disappeared into her bedroom. She changed her clothes and fell onto her bed. The moment her head hit the pillows and her eyes closed, the pain of her headache began to ease.

When Kate heard a soft knock on her half-open door, she turned her head toward the sound and spoke quietly. “Des.” That meant ‘come in,’ but her mind wasn’t working clearly. With Des, it didn’t have to.

He walked in cautiously, trying not to make a sound. After resting a glass of water by the bed, he sat beside her. “Katie, take this,” he whispered. She pulled herself up and took the pill from his hand. He smiled for her and handed her the water.

Kate tossed the pill into her mouth and followed it with a few gulps of water. Her head fell back onto the pillows and her tired crying eyes closed again. She heard Des quietly kicking his shoes off. He laid himself down and turned to face her, resting his head on his hand.

“Katie? Are you okay?”

Although it was a bit of a struggle, Kate opened her eyes and turned to him. “No.” She was finally honest. She wasn’t okay. She was upset and hurt and betrayed. Her tears returned and she lost her will to stop them.

“Honey,” Des sweetly ran a few fingers along the side of her face, gently pushing her hair aside. “You know you’re going to be all right, don’t you?”

“I guess so,” she whispered. She closed her eyes again, wanting to hide. But Des wouldn’t let her.

His hand covered her cheek, his thumb wiping her tears. “Look at me.” He needed to convince her she’d get through this.

She sighed and opened her eyes for him. “Des, I am so… stupid. I mean, how long was he seeing someone else? Why didn’t I know? How could I be so blind? I feel like such a fool.”

“You’re not, Katie. God, you are completely the opposite.” He leaned to her and kissed her forehead. “You’re okay,” he said softly. He smiled when he saw her eyes closed again. He knew she was exhausted, but he couldn’t let her sleep. Not while she was still broken. “I promise you’re okay,” he repeated in a soft whisper. Again, his lips fell to her, sweetly comforting her with a kiss on her cheek. He stared at her, reading pain in her expression, even with her eyes closed. He hated to see her hurting. He had to fix it. And he couldn’t stop touching her.

His fingers wandered over her cheek, along her jaw. His lips followed the same path, delicately covering her with sweet, gentle kisses. Cautiously, he let his thumb run softly over her lips. They parted and a sweet breath fell from her. Again, Des smiled when he looked at her. But this time, a frantic racing heart accompanied his smile. A flood of emotion washed over him. My God, she is beautiful. Sweet. And beautiful. And sad. He was desperate to make her happy.

dark-reddots

He took a deep breath, but his pounding heart wouldn’t slow. When did my best friend become the most beautiful person on earth? God, she always was, wasn’t she? Honest and sincere. And sweet and… stubborn. And violent toward insects. He made himself smile. My killer… so trusting. Maybe too trusting… with that ass Michael. I can’t have her in pain. I just… can’t.

He kissed her cheek while his fingers gently touched the other. He adored her tiny sigh. His soft little kisses followed a wandering trail on her warm skin until they finally arrived at her lips. The moment his lips touched hers, he felt everything inside himself awaken. She has the softest, sweetest lips I’ve ever kissed. Oh God. Is this wrong?

His racing thoughts, his pounding heart – he ignored them. His lips on her warm skin, on her mouth, brought him somewhere new. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere perfect – if she wanted to go with him. But he couldn’t focus on that. He could only think of her. Making everything better for her. Taking away her pain. And touching his lips to hers again.

With Des’ fingers in her hair, Kate’s headache melted away. And his sweet tiny kisses calmed her. Is this real? Am I awake? In her blurry mind, she thought she may have fallen asleep. His gentle touches made her feel like she was in a dream. But when his lips touched her own, she knew she wasn’t sleeping… or dreaming. She could barely breathe.

Oh my God. This is real. And… oh my God. My best friend… what is happening? It’s Des. We don’t kiss… we have never kissed. Why have we never kissed? Until now… Oh God. Is this wrong? But she didn’t want him to stop. He took her away from everything that hurt. And he gave her something she didn’t know she needed. But he knew. How did he know?

Her mouth played with his, sharing gentle innocent kisses. Every little nip and gentle touch felt sweeter than the last. But Kate didn’t feel innocent anymore. And she definitely wasn’t calm anymore.

Des reluctantly took his lips from Kate’s. He needed to see her eyes. He needed to know if these beautiful moments were real or if they only existed in his imagination. He backed away just enough to see her face. She opened her eyes and found his. They stared into each other, panting softly, breathless with surprise and amazement at what had just happened. Without a thought, without intention. It just happened.

Whatever led them to this beautiful new place wouldn’t let them leave. They remained still, caught in each other’s eyes, motionless on the outside, hearts pounding madly inside. When she lifted her hand to his shoulder, his fingers returned to her cheek and slipped back into her hair. She inhaled a sharp breath and slid her hand over his shoulder to his neck. When he felt her touch there, he sighed softly and whispered to her.

“Katie…” He found it impossible not to lean back to her sweet mouth. Kate’s hand sank into his hair and pulled him closer. Their lips touched again, still cautiously teasing. But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore. Their tongues finally met, tangling and loving the sweet taste of each other. And once they fell into their beautiful tryst, they couldn’t stop.

~~

You just read Fiction Friday: Roses Are Blue #7. Also available:
Blue 1 | Blue 2 | Blue 3 | Blue 4 | Blue 5 | Blue 6 ||| Blue 8 | Blue 9 | Blue 10 | Blue 11
©2016 what sandra thinks
Posted in blogging, fiction, fiction friday, love, romance, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 24 Comments