Someone posted on facebook, most likely a quote from someone else:

If you aren’t the one buying, you’re the one being sold.

I think we ought to remember that. Except, you are ALWAYS the one being sold.

I guess we’d better be aware of that, so we can get a good price.

Is that a Gen-X thing? Is that  thing that the baby boomers wouldn’t be able to hang on to? Well. Cynicism is a way of life, and it’s not so bad once you get used to it.

The gatekeepers are not on our side. The popularity contestst, the university admission letters, the job interviews and the rejection letters. Nobody is your fairy godmother. It’s not a meritocracy, unless the merit being autocracied by your own self.

King of the Hill. Until you are pushed off.

But I’m not interested in tooth and fang. I want something beautiful.

And I am not interested in the gatekeepers and their right to be right.

Who gave them the right? I take it back.

So, I find myself recognizing the Stockholm syndrome inside. Those gatekeepers have infected me.

“Oh…that’s not really good. *I* can do better than that…and I’m no good either.”

No, no. We are all good. Why not?

What is the point of all this judgement? Are we so very fragile that we cannot withstand the horror of a less-than-sublime experiene?

Crappy music is great! if you enjoy it.

Horrible writing? Should we all just cut off our right hands because they offend us with a mixed metaphor or dangling participle?

No. Never. Let the walls fall down.

Yes, there are differences in quality. But we eat Pringles and Potatoes au gratin with oil of truffle. There is room in the world for all of us and all of our growing gifts.

We may have to march around the walls every day for a very long time. To interpret that metaphor, I mean we need to do the work. We need to get good at what we are doing by doing it.

Maybe eventually we will see that we never needed to get the gatekeeper’s help after all. We had the power all along.

Thank you internet. Thank you for letting us know that this whole world is our for the taking, and that we are not bound by the old rules.

If we are going to be sold, let’s broker our own deal.

I still haven’t got it all figured out just yet

It’s the date night to celebrate our 4-year anniversary.

Chris went to drop off the daughter at granma’s house so we could go to Olive Garden.

Yes, that is who we are now. Olive Garden. AND THA”TS OKAY. it’s freaking amazing, actually, just to go out and be along over the course of sundown.

I am left alone to get beautiful. Chris would be okay if I came in shorts. I would not be okay with that.

So i find a strappy little crushed velvet dressed that I bought in ’99. It still fits, 🙂

and I want some music to get ready with.


THere will never be a time when this album does not rock me. Never. I’ll be 90 and telling my grandkids to turn it up.

There are 20 somethings right now  who won’t get her. That’s fine. She belongs to me and a few million of my closest demographic-sharers.

I’m not young anymore. But I’m still wise.

I’m STILL sane and overwhelmed.

this rockabilly dress doesn’t have pockets, but I’ve still got one hand in my pocket tonight


This computer has a bug. The keyboard will decide to stick on a key

It’s excited.

Maybe i am too!

I am excited about the world at large becoming aquainted with my new book.

And with my old book.

And my not-yet-released-but-even-older book.

The world seems freindlier.

Maybe that’s why I’m feeling like opening up.

Hello again, World

It’s Friday people!

The weather has been kind to us this summer. Not too hot. But around here, in desert country, you never know when the hot will kick in.

It was hot this week. It seems cooler today.

I hope it will be cooler today.

I really need to take the daughter on a bike ride. Every night she asked for it.


I suspect that is a ploy to get out of going to bed. But…she is asking for it. And i have that nice little baby seat on the back of my bike. I ~want~ to give her a bike ride.

I will try to do it if I remember.

Lord Give me strength!


My job has a lot to do with synchronicity.

What i mean by that is, things happening at basically the same time. I work in telecommunications, and this is a concept most people are very familiar with.

In a phone call, both people have to be there at the same time. Not the same place, but the same time.

A face to face, also known as f2f, has to be at the same place and the same time. The nerdword for the same place is co-location, sometimes called co-lo.

A phone call doesnt’ need the same place, as long as there is technology in place that connect the two people. Cell towers, cell phones, regular wired phone equipment, SOMETHING that allows people to be far away but still talk at the same time.

But they both have to be ther at the same time


then again, there are ways of talking that don’t require synchronicity. Remember letters? Tools in the form of paper and ink, a delivery mechanism, the education background to READ, letters allow asynchronous communication.

Email uses different tools, but also allows for asynchronous communication.

To step away from nerddom for a moment, there are things in life that require synchronicity and others that don’t.

Some moments don’t come back.

But some moments will come if you wait.

And you just have to wait.

protect your cherishables

Stayed up way too late tonight with some old friends. We are rekindling a writer’s group.

There is little in life so precious as a good writer’s group. And this is a good writer’s group.

Ironically, we spoke very little about our writing tonight. We didn’t talk about our writing at ALL last meeting. Nevertheless, it was essential to the writing process that we do this.

See, just coming together and listening and talking with one another made me feel so much more ready to be creative.

To misquote:

If a writer writes alone in the woods, and nobody hears it, did it make a noise?

If I think about sitting down to put word to screen, and I do not have confidence that anyone besides myself gives a damn–I will most likely not sit down to put word to screen.

I have ideas and thought that I *think* about capturing and crafting.

But I don’t do it.

HOWEVER! My group got together to listen and to talk to one another. We were saying to one another ‘Yes! That is worth thinking about! Yes, you did phrase that cleverly! You do have a gift to share with us-with the world.’

We were cherishing one another.

It takes effort to write. To write ANYTHING, be it an opus magnum or a grocery list.

If I don’t value what I want to write, I lose it. All the ideas in the world are nothing to the lost ideas of the world.

It’s worth the effort

direct relationship

There seems to be a direct relationship between how tired I am and how irritated i get when Chris does not get up FIRST to take care of our daughter when she is noisily awake in the nighttime.

SOME days, though, I dont’ mind.

I wish I could make those days most days.


he taught her how to spin straw into gold, you know.

I myself have no idea how to spin. I saw someone do it once on a school field trip. THey had wool, a puff of it, and they used a spinning wheel to make it into a thred. The puff of fibers was wound into a string and then the string was wound around a spindle. They loaded it onto a loom and made very rough-looking cloth out of it.

But for that girl, they demanded she spin straw-flax probably because that is what you make linen out of-into gold.

She didn’t know how. I didn’t know how either. I would have no idea.

But the king left her alone in a room with straw and said DO IT!

she had a visitor. Ruplestiltskin, though she didn’t know his name yet.

He showed her how.

and in the end, he taught her how to get a prince for a husband.

except he demanded more than he had a right to. He demanded her firstborn

She was clever enough to best him at his challenge and figure out his name

so ther she was, queen and mother and someone who knew how to spin gold.

She was never asked to spin gold again. I wonder if she spun it anyway?

Hard to say. Because her new family had put her in that unfair position.

I thinkshe spun the gold on her own. I think she didn’t tell anyone, but she spun the straw into gold in between when she had the timeleft over after queen and mother duties were done.

Because you never know when you might need some gold.

is the stalker gone?

I hope so. I am pretty sure.

I think that I am safe. There are things out there that can get me, I suppose. But I have to believe that I am strong enough to sustain myself even if I am hurt.

That will have to do.

Yes, It’s been more than a year

I had good reasons. Mostly to protect myself. But I have decided that I don’t want to live in a world where I can’t blog. So I’m not going to publicize this too much. I’ve always been circumspect about what I post here.

But I”ve missed this blog every day i haven’t had it up. I’m putting it up again.

Regardless. I stand by my words.

I’m not sure if I will still keep the weekly wonder. I have a few followers, but it hasn’t exactly gone viral. I’m just one women, with her thoughts.


Hello World.