waiting.

dark.

So I sit alone
Waiting in silent darkness
For love to arrive

divider dots. red.
©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , | 10 Comments

song of the day. #28

song of the day | what sandra thinks

I listed this artist/song as an ‘other‘ under the letter k for a-to-z but it deserves its own post.

Everything I tried to write about this song just came out sounding stupid. Maybe I should just shut up and let the song speak for itself… while I run off to a place where no one will find me… so I can just be there and forget everything else. Take a break from life. I can go alone… or maybe with a friend. I’ve got one picked out.

Let’s get the fuck out of here and just hang. ‘Kay? Good. Let’s go.

This song also ties nicely to a piece of fiction I’m working on… which I didn’t realize until just this moment.

swirly
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?

I’m getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you’re gonna let me in
I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don’t we go
Somewhere only we know?

song of the day

song of the day
Obviously I am not the owner of any rights to this song, video, or lyrics… just everything else… which isn’t much… ©2017 what sandra thinks
Posted in music, writing | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

to the food bloggers.

[Disclaimer: Reality-based humor follows. Food bloggers, don’t be offended. Or… if you’re easily offended, run. Run far away.]

Dear food bloggers,

Please take the following under advisement. And don’t fret… I don’t expect any response. Answers and explanations would probably only annoy me more.

dots.

1) Are you all stay-at-home moms with gorgeous kitchens and a fucking photo studio? Everything’s a little too perfect. Mine can’t be the only kitchen on earth in need of a little updating. Or maybe it is. What do I know? I’m just a lowly Pinterest user.

2) Stop calling yourself a ‘busy mom.’ It’s redundant. And you’re not special. Every mom is busy. It’s kind of part of the definition. Dads, too, for that matter. Fuck, anyone for that matter. Everyone is fucking busy! If you’re so damn busy, stop blogging. I’ll just get the recipe from Food Network or something.

3) Are you fucking kidding me with the ads? Some food blogs take so damn long to load, I bail. There are billions of you… I’ll find the recipe somewhere else… somewhere less obnoxious. I am not there to have a seizure-inducing number of ads flash in my face while I wait ten minutes for the goddamn recipe to load. If I wanted to see that many popups, I’d go to a porn site. [Not that I have any experience that would confirm the number of popups on that sort of site. I heard it from a friend.] I’m not going to click on your damn ads. If I want to go internet shopping, I will do so on my own. I’m not going to surf through your pad thai recipe to get to fucking amazon.com. I realize this is a way for you to make money but I just want the fucking recipe. I’m not there to pad your wallet. [Although I guess that’s what I’m doing. Hey, why don’t you come over to my awesome blog and give me money? That’d be swell… thanks.] Oh… by the way… excessive advertising makes your blog ugly as fuck.

4) No, I do not want your fucking newsletter. I want this one recipe for this one particular thing. I don’t give a shit what else you make. [Unless I happen to end up back through a different pin…]

5) Tell me how many/how much the recipe is going to make. I may not want enough [whatever-I’m-making] to serve 90 people. Or not enough to serve 4.

6) Changing one ingredient slightly from a recipe you lifted from another site does not make it your original recipe. And it sure as fuck doesn’t make it your great grandma’s secret recipe. I don’t know about other readers, but I’m not stupid. Changing the cinnamon quantity from 1 tsp to ½ tsp doesn’t make it your recipe. It makes it your ‘tweak.’ And it doesn’t make it better either. Why would you take away any cinnamon? That’s crazy talk.

7) And for the love of god, I do not care if your dog did something cute that day. Or how the weather’s been lately. The rainfall level in fucking Kansas [I haven’t a clue where any food blogger I’ve ever visited lives.] has no bearing on my life.

And finally…

To the commenters:
Please know that if your comment simply says, ‘this looks good,’ or, “I can’t wait to try this,’ it’s useless. Shut the fuck up. Obviously it looks good. Why would I be there if the result looked like something the cat puked up?  Try the damn recipe first and then comment. I want to know if it is good… not if it looks good. Because maybe I’m a bitch (maybe? ha!), but I’m not 100% convinced every food blogger posts only the recipes that turn out well. I say this from experience. I think they take their pretty pictures and post the recipe even if it tasted like butt.

If you’re interested, I’ve got a recipe for what I fondly named feet soup. Totally smells like feet. Kinda tasted like ’em, too.

dots.
©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in food, humor, rant, writing | Tagged , , , , | 82 Comments

guilt and regret.

Both… totally useless. But how does one overcome them?

This is not an instructional post. I have no fucking idea how to overcome them. I can tell you how they overcome me, though.

I hold onto guilt and regret for-fucking-ever. I could start with my earliest memories and list my regrets… my feelings of guilt… for every stage of my life. Yeah, I even have regrets from when I was six years old. I shouldn’t have thrown that grilled cheese sandwich at my sister no matter how mean she was to me.

But no one needs to hear all the things about which I’m buried in guilt and regret. Just know that I am and we can move on.

Well, you can move on. Clearly I can’t, thus my dilemma.

I cannot change the past. [Insert 14 clichés that say the same thing here. But really, don’t because I hate that. *insert tongue-sticking-out face here*] I need to stop living there… revisiting there… vacationing there… slipping back there. I need to fucking stop.

How do I do that?

I legit cannot get some of that shit out of my head. Distractions — people, projects, books, writing, shopping, walking, yelling, throwing things… none of these things kill the guilt and regret. Those useless fuckers scream at me still.

This morning, I had a revelation that brought me perhaps the biggest onslaught of guilt and regret I’ve ever felt. It has been repeating in my head ever since. I have had two people already tell me that it’s not true. [One was even my husband! Imagine that! The other was a professional…] But… it gnaws at me. If that were literal, I’d have, like, no arm now. It would have been gnawed off. Now I’m just being gross.

I try to inject humor into posts like this. I think it’s my way of telling you that even though there’s a serious matter at hand, I’m not curled up in a ball in my closet rocking back and forth repeating the word regrets over and over again.

No… I’m curled up somewhere else.

No… I’m just kidding. I’m on the couch. Sitting upright.

And I’m wondering…

Will I ever get to this place:

Well, I hope not because spelling errors piss me the fuck off. But I’ll take that Milky Way.

 

dots.
©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in anxiety, depression, personal, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Where We’d Take an Alien, in 6 Words (Coach Daddy reblog).

I participated in this fun little challenge (little in word count, anyway)… and I encourage you to stop by Eli’s and have a look. I thought this was a great question… I certainly never would have thought of it! I love the Roswell response… but you’ll have to visit to find it. So there. Feel free to comment with your own 6-word-alien-visit story (over at Eli’s blog… or here… or, hey, both!). I’m curious what you would do with your alien friend…

Source: Where We’d Take an Alien, in 6 Words

green dots.

Posted in writing | Tagged , , | 12 Comments

bacon.

receive bacon.

What hand dryers are really for.

six degrees…

While he was filming a movie in my town, I met…
Adam Sandler
who was in
Anger Management
with
Jack Nicholson
who was in
A Few Good Men
with
Kevin Bacon

So… if Jack Nicholson’s Bacon number is 1 and Adam Sandler’s is 2, does this mean my Bacon number is 3?

Hey look… facial hair!
(I’m not an especially huge fan of Kevin Bacon… but I saw him on TV recently and I felt the need to check my six degrees…)

I bet this isn’t where you thought this post was going. But sometimes, I ponder such important matters. Like Bacon numbers.

 


©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in humor, writing | Tagged , , | 14 Comments

fiction tuesday 60: back to you. part 6.


I’m still not sold on ‘fiction tuesday’ but what’s a girl to do? I really wanted a new day. 

I hope you’re enjoying the story…  


back to you. part 6. [previous: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5]

Continue reading

Posted in fiction, fiction friday, romance, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 44 Comments

the search.

If she never found
the man she was meant to love,
is he out there
looking for her?


©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , | 11 Comments