Showing posts from November, 2011

Romance, Erotica and Porn…Do you Know the Difference?

Pornography is about dominance. Erotica is about mutuality.” ~Gloria Steinem The above quote shows that there are plenty of people out in our crazy world that have their own views on what the difference is between Romance, Erotica and Pornography. Those views tend to cloud what people think of me when they find out that I intend and hope to earn a living as an erotic writer. It is kind of awkward when I tell people what I do for a living now. It is especially awkward when I tell my husband’s co-workers that I am an erotic writer. I am always afraid that they will read more into that than what is really there. When I tell people, they seem to get very quiet and I can see their minds working. I can’t always be sure what they are thinking, but I can guess. My husband has now suggested that I tell them that I am a novelist. I guess that sounds better.   I hate it when people tell me I write smut!   Many people assume because I write Erotica that I write pornograp

Small Talk is the Devil (Excuse my rant...)

Don't like small talk ; Love rainy days  ~Melissa Gilbert There is one thing in life that I truly hate with a passion. Small Talk. In elevators, waiting on the elevator any scenario where I can be engaged in small talk I really try to avoid. You get all those questions about the weather and the ever present: “So, Thank God it’s Friday.” Comments. I just want to scream “I KNOW ITS FRIDAY, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN THAT IT’S GETTING COLD. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME RIDE THE ELEVATOR TO MY FLOOR IN PEACE!” Some people just can’t take the silence that insures when there are strangers in their vicinity. Well, I can. Small talk is just a conversation about nothing that no one cares about. How do I always get stuck in those moments that leave me vulnerable to small talk? One prime place to get captured with no place to go is the Elevator. My sister does not ride the elevator because she is claustrophobic, but I would take the stairs if it means no small tal

Conversation With Mady-The Fruit Fiasco

Mady: Mommy can I have one orange? Me: We don’t have any oranges. Mady: Well, can I have an apple. Me: We don’t have any Apples Mady: Do we have any fruit? Me: No we don’t have any fruit. Mady: I’m just going to check the refrigerator. Me: No Mady I am telling you.   There is no fruit in the house. Mady starts to cry and storms out the room down the hall. Mady: (Yelling) WHY DON’T WE HAVE ANY FRUIT? WHO ATE ALL THE FRUIT! WHY THEY KEEP EATING ALL THE FRUIT! The Husband: What the hell is wrong with her? Me: (at this point crying and laughing at the same time) She's mad we don't have any fruit.

Pillow Talk

No day is so bad it can't be fixed with a nap. ~Carrie Snow I love sleep. Sleep is one of my best friends. When I was younger, I remember I used to sleep all day and wake in time for dinner.   My dad used to poke me just to see if I was still alive. In college my friends were amazed that I would get 12 hours of sleep. That’s right. 12 hours of sleep.   My classes would not start until 12 pm so I would go to bed at 11pm and wake at 11am. Plenty of time to showered and get dressed before class. Before we had kids, there was this glorious time when I could sleep as much as I wanted. My husband is always dragging me out of the bed, complaining that I am sleeping the day away. After we had kids, sleep and I started to lose touch and it made me miserable. I went from 12 hours of sleep to hopefully 3 hours in a row. Especially after this last kid. She is 7 months old now and still has trouble sleeping through the night. I have to wake up at least once a night to

I am a writer but Cooking...It's in my blood!

I have always loved to cook.   It became more apparent when I was on my own in college and was forced to cook for myself.   Once when I graduated from college I didn’t have a job right away and there was nothing for me to do but write and sit around watching the Food network.   I would watch the cooks and the chef make new foods and I would want to try them.   I realized that they didn’t seem so hard or difficult.   I spent hours at the stores shopping for new ingredients and trying out new recipes. My fiancé (soon to be my hubby) would come home and not know what to expect. Every day there would be something new for him to try. I could always tell if he liked the food or not.   The responses would range from: “Wow babe, this is great!” To… “Well, it’s edible.” The “well, it’s edible” response was in reference to some cheese rice I had made.   I had no idea why he hated it so much, but to be honest, it was pretty awful. I would never admit that to him though.

Let's hope History doesn't repeat itself...

Do not brood over your past mistakes and failures as this will only fill your mind with grief, regret and depression. Do not repeat them in the future. ~Sivananda The past brings me down. You must not brood over the past.   I hear that all the time but in my head I cannot help but to be haunted by it. The past has always been something that haunted me.   It was so difficult to let things go.   I felt that I needed to hold onto things lest I forget and repeat my mistakes.   We all make mistakes. It is human nature.   I wondered why my mistakes and my past seemed to disturb me. It was because I let them. They play over and over in my mind like a bad movie or an awful nightmare that I just cannot wake up from.   They leave tightness in my chest and I feel like I cannot breathe.   It leaves resentment and anger. I can try to not think about it but it is always there. Never wandering and never leaving.   It feels as if my soul is forever captured by the past.

Insomnia: The Addiction

Sleep. It is another thing in my life that eludes me tonight. Yet I much rather fuck than sleep. I’m alone. I’m alone as usual. From the window, the moon leaves a streak across my motel bed.   I lie there naked and sticky from my latest encounter.   I’m too exhausted to move.   Yet, not exhausted enough. I’m having trouble sleeping. It has been this way for a few years now.   Addiction does that to you.   Nothing else seems to matter. I wasn’t always alone, but for the past three years it has been me and my addiction. I used to have a wife and three beautiful daughters.   We were a happy family.   I always made sure my girls had the finest things money could buy. I worked hard all day to provide for them. The problem arose when I decided that because I work so hard…it was time that I play hard as well. As long as I gave them the best, they should not have a problem with my extracurricular activities. The best for them right now is not to have me ar

Spoiled...but not Rotten!

Some children are spoiled and it is not their fault, it is their parents. ~Roald Dahl It’s all my fault. I admit it though I have not in the past. I spoil my daughters.   I cannot help it. They are so cute and funny and think about all the things I believe that it all started when I was young.   We didn’t have a lot growing up.   My parents had 9 kids (6 girls and 3 boys).   It takes a lot of money to support a large family like we were.   My brothers were like garbage disposals.   They ate everything in sight.   My father used to make breakfast on Saturday mornings and the norm included 45 biscuits, a dozen of eggs and 2 packs of bacon. Taking care of that many kids adds up.   Needless to say we didn’t have the toys and all the amenities that wealthier families had. Though I feel like I had a fairly happy childhood, there were still so many things that I wanted.   I would always tell myself that when I was an adult and had children, I would make sure that I was able t

Shopping like it's my JOB!!!

I don't shop because I need something; I just shop for shopping's sake. ~Cat Deely I love to shop. Shopping seems to solve everything. I don’t care whether it is for clothes, shoes, groceries, pet supplies, car supplies or whatever.   I just love shopping for shoppings’sake. I love it when I can shop for others. I rarely shop for myself. Example: I went to Las Vegas last week and all I cared about was bringing home souvenirs for my family. I neglected to bring one back home for me my husband pointed out.   I didn’t care my little girls were so happy to see the gifts that I brought them.   The holiday season gives me plenty of reasons to shop.   I get to shop for food and gifts and Holiday decorations. The list goes on and on. Guess what I will be doing the day after Thanksgiving…SHOPPING!   Of course I will be up in the wee hours of the morning shopping for whatever is a good sale and gifts for the kids and the husband.   I am so excited I can barely

Conversation with Mi-Mi: A Thanksgiving tale

Helping Mi-Mi complete her first Apple pie for Thanksgiving. Me: okay you know what the top of an apple pie looks like right? That is what we are going to do.   We have to do the lattice top to the pie. Mi-Mi: I don’t know Me: You don’t know what? Mi-Mi: What an apple pie looks like. Me: You don’t know what an apple pie looks like? Mi-Mi: No I have never seen one. Me: Are you kidding?   You never ate apple pie? Mi-Mi: No. Not really in the mood to argue, I just begin to cut the lattice top for the pie. Mi-Mi: Oh, isn’t that what you did when you made apple pie last year? I just shake my head. I thought she had never seen or eaten apple pie.

I must admit...I AM THANKFUL.

Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received. Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling. Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse.   ~Henry Van Dyke It may sound strange but I am the Girl Scout Troop Leader for my daughter’s troop.   At our last meeting we discussed the meaning of Thanksgiving and we decorated little turkeys.   They also had to come with 5 things that they were thankful for.   They each thought of five things and then they asked me what 5 things I was thankful for. Well… 1.       I am so thankful for my three beautiful daughters.   Some days they frustrate me and they make me angry but more often than not they make me smile.   That is how I make it through the hard and difficult times.   They are so adorable and so smart I can’t help but to love them to pieces. That is why I put my conversations with them on my blog.   They light up my life and everything that I do I do it for them.   Whenever I am feeling low and sad they

Insomnia : Just Like A Pill

I’m not myself. I can’t sleep. That is the way I have been feeling these last couple of minutes, hours, days.   I can’t sleep. That is not something new. I haven’t been able to sleep for a while now. I’m just not myself. The heat still radiates from my body as he rolls off me. I’m sticky from his cum and I do not want to move. I didn’t want to. Yet in my despair I had to put on a show. My body was there yet I mind was back in that room doing deeds that I do not want to think about. I am disgusted. I just lay there in my own juices unable to sleep. Restless. What’s bad is I didn’t come. His pleasure was more important at the moment. I felt worthless. I think that I should be doing something else. I can’t sleep and there is still so much to do. There is so much to do yet I sit here in bed. I think about Masturbating.   Sometimes the intense sensation might give me some comfort. But I do not want to touch myself.   I am disgusted with myse

Warning: I will cry buckets!

Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water. ~Antoine Rivarol It’s okay to cry. I have always felt that. People who are close to me know that I can cry at the drop of a hat.   Crying to me is nourishing and refreshing.   Since I was very young I have cried to feel better.   It is as simple as that.   I am so sensitive. I cry when I shop for greeting cards.   My sisters used to be so embarrassed to stand in the card aisle with me because I will read one card and the water works will start.   Normally the card that makes me cry the hardest is the card I normally buy.   I embarrass myself crying for no damn reason. Crying my way of shedding my skin and letting go of what has me bogged down and bummed out.   It is a release and after I cry I feel a sense of okay, now I can go about my day. I can breathe again.   My husband would always ask me why I cry when he goes to sleep or why I wait to cry alone.   It is so h

House Work is For the Birds...Not For Writers!

I hate housework. You make the beds, you wash the dishes and six months later you have to start all over again I can’t really say that I hate housework.   Sometimes I need it to keep me busy and sometimes I actually like to clean.   What I hate is cleaning and then 2 seconds later I have to clean it all over again. I know that one of my titles now is mom and housewife.   So I cook and clean and do laundry. Yes, I do windows and toilets and I scrub and scrub and scrub until everything is sparkling clean. That last until the kids come home from school and then it looks as if I have not done a thing at all.   I need to write but it is hard for me to write and clearly focus on my ideas when my mind is cluttered and a mess.   My mind is cluttered and a mess when the house is a mess.   But I can’t keep the house clean because the kids just destroy it before I can move to the next room.   Thus my dilemma.               I have tried to delegat

Conversation with Mady

Side note: this conversation is in reference to a conversation that I had with Mady about talking to stranger.   I informed her if any stranger talks to you or try to offer you candy you run or you scream bloody murder. We were in Target shopping and we approach the checkout counter. Cashier: Hello little girl you are so pretty. Mady: Ahhhhhhhhhhh! I shake my head in embarrassment. Mady: You see I screamed Mommy. I don’t know that lady.

The Hard Part is Forgiving...

If you haven't forgiven yourself something, how can you forgive others?--Dolores Huerta Holding a grudge is nothing new to me.      I have always had a problem with forgiveness.   I was able to hold on to a grudge longer than I thought anyone ever could.   Once I held a grudge against a friend for almost at decade.     My pride never let me forgive others because I felt that to forgive was me giving in and becoming a doormat to those that want to harm me.   If I forgive them they will do what they want when they want and I will be in this situation again.   It was my way of punishing them.      It took my entire 27 years of life to realize that isn’t true.   I was not punishing them and in actuality I was punishing myself.   I was the one in tears and dwelling on the past every second of every day when they were living their lives I was stuck hating and despising.      Holding onto this pain and anguish makes you feel so bad and so useless.   You are angry all the time and