That’s Going To Hurt In The Morning


Tell us about a time when you had to choose between two options, and you picked the unpopular choice.


I guess I don’t have to stress the fact that I was an odd duck when I was a kid and when I was a teenager, oh and going into my twenties -so you get the picture -I’ve always sort of been one step out behind and just a little bit off with, oh I don’t know – the entire human race.

So have I ever made an unpopular choice?


When haven’t I made the ‘wrong choice’.

I’ve never worn the right clothes, chosen the right wine to have with dinner, been a fan of the ‘right’ rock band or had enough sense to know who the ‘best’ actors are.

I pick the wrong movies and the wrong shoes.

I’ve sort of resigned myself to the fact I make unpopular decisions all of the time.

My parents should have named me ” Anita Marie WHY.”


Sometimes I care, because being an outcast isn’t the niftiest of spaces to occupy ( infinite Universe my Aunt Fanny) but there doesn’t seem to be anywhere else to go.

On the other hand when you never make the popular decision or the right choice the pressure is off and you can let your brain of it’s leash and you are pretty much able to think for yourself as opposed to making decisions that lots of people will love.

The only thing I will not bend on, and I will go to the wall for no matter what anyone says- Dark Chocolate is the worst candy in the world. I won’t put it in my mouth and I wouldn’t insult my garbage can by throwing it in there.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

It’s almost as bad as Spaghetti and Meatballs- which is a food I wouldn’t feed to my dog.

I don’t even like the smell of that nasty sauce.

I know- not popular decisions.

So what happens when I do that?


Lighten up world.

We’re all under enough pressure as it is.


Writing Is A Journey

I’ve started a second blog dedicated to writing stories and journal entries inspired by the prompts at my favorite writing website The Soul Food Cafe.

I hope you’ll stop by At The Crossroads and check out the posts I’ve put up and that you’ll check out the links ( which are all tied ) to the Soul Food Cafe.

My friend Heather created the site many years ago- and I am looking forward to visiting there again and seeing how it inspires me as a writer now.



Couldn’t Get It Right

New Sensation

Ah, sweet youth. No matter whether you grew up sporting a fedora, penny loafers, poodle skirts, bell-bottoms, leg-warmers, skinny jeans, Madonna-inspired net shirts and rosaries, goth garb, a spikey mohawk, or even a wave that would put the Bieber to shame, you made a fashion statement, unique to you. Describe your favorite fashions from days of yore or current trends you think are stylin’.

Until a couple of years ago, I was fashion impaired.

I just didn’t get  the entire ” how to dress ” concept.

How do people do it? It drove me to distraction. They can look at a pile of clothes or zip from one store to another and walk out with actual outfits.

” How do you do that?” I’d ask.

The problem is I’d ask the wrong people and they’d look at me and say, ” Oh, I just have the knack I guess.”

So they’d put on these snazzy outfits and I’d be standing next to them looking like I raided one of the clothing collection boxes that dot empty lots and grocery store car parks from city to city.

Anyway for most of my life I would wear things because they fit.

But I kept on looking for a sign
In the middle of the night
But I couldn’t see the light
No, I couldn’t see the light
I kept on looking for a way
To take me through the night
I couldn’t get it right
I couldn’t get it right

And then one of my friends ( thank you Linda N ) actually took me shopping and showed me how to put outfits together and she helped me find who I was on the inside and how to bring that out- and I ended up looking pretty good and I enjoyed going out more.

The way I dress now sort of speaks to my rocker days, but I didn’t dress like this back then because I was style impaired and I thought I was butt ugly so I didn’t want to draw attention to  myself:


I guess it all came down to was being comfortable in my own skin, so that when I put something over it I was good.

It also helped that I started to recite my niece’s mantra in the morning:

Look Good

Feel Good

Do Good.

So I started to care more about finding those things to wear that backed that up…and lo and behold I started to be able to dive into the racks at the store or in my closet and put together something fun to wear.

I didn’t have to look perfect.

I just had to be able to throw somethings on, find some cool accessories and say-

” I’m feeling this.”



( it’s worth noting that I’m wearing Doctor Who shirts in both these pictures. Look Good, Feel Good Do Good winky wink)

So after years and years of just wearing jeans and shirts from the sale rack and a big coat or sweater  to cover it all up with when I went out, now I actually dress -not sure if it’s an actual style.

But it’s all me.


(Let’s) Hit It With A Rock!

Oh No!
Not another 2016 Resolutions Meme.
I know, let’s hit it with a rock.
Better yet, Let’s ask my dog to do it.
Hamish Macbeth hasn’t ever done one ( he’s only a year old ) and my cats would just pee on it and walk ( because they’re cats )  so just a sec and we’ll get this going:
This Year: 

A bad habit I’m going to break: 

Chewing my Mommy’s shoes up.

A new skill I’d like to learn: 

Not getting caught chewing my Mommy’s shoes up.

A person I’d like to be more like: 

My Mommy. She has great shoes.

A good deed I’m going to do: 

I’m not going to dig craters in our backyard anymore.

A place I’d like to visit: 

Our front yard!

A book I’d like to read: 

Oh. You READ books. Not EAT  books.


A letter I’m going to write:

I can’t write sillies, I can’t even read! Wait. I can pee on stuff. Does that count?

A new food I’d like to try: 

It’s called

” No !”

I don’t know what it is but it must taste great because when my Mommy eats it she practically climbs up on the roof with it on a plate and yells down that I’m allergic and to go away

I’m going to do better at:

Finding a better way to get out of it when the Vet gives me shots.

Licking her in the mouth when she leans over me isn’t working. She won’t drop that needle for anything!


Mommy says to wish you all a Happy New Years…so Happy New Years.

And may your days be filled with Yummy Shoes!



Sunday Stealing


The Pretty Girl and The Hot Stove


Write Here, Write Now

Write a post entirely in the present tensense.


When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute and it’s longer than any hour. That’s relativity.

We don’t have any choice but to write in the present ( tense ). We can write about the past and the future and we can even mix them up.

But here we are write here in the now.

I really hate rules and boundaries that time puts on us.

What I like about writing is the sense that all of those lines and rules of time and space just drop away and I can go where and WHEN I choose, or where my story or post takes me at that point in time:

Tombs of Tierradentro

I could write about a Werewolf opening it’s Wolfish eyes for the first time as it happens, I could show you it looking up into the cold dark starless night.

Would you like to hear about the Grave Diggers?

They are a new team and as they plunge their shovels into the Earth to create their first grave together the smell of freshly turned earth is overpowering and they feel someone is watching them and they think they can see someone watching them from the corners of their eyes.

Far below my house is a dried up river bed, buried in it something moves, lifts it’s head up through millions of years of dirt and opens it’s mouth and takes a long rough breath.

 But write about these things in the here and now?

What about the here and now when the story takes place?

I’m not going to force my story into a place where it doesn’t belong.


The human mind is a jumble and so is time- its like Doctor Who explains it :


When my paternal Grandmother began to suffer from dementia, when my childhood friend became schizophrenic and lost touch with reality all together, when another friend suffered a traumatic brain injury and lost his ability to access short term memory I learned that in order to connect with them, I had to go where they were now.

Not my NOW, not MY reality but their reality and that was an entirely different Universe altogether.

It was like walking down a set of stairs and not knowing where they were going to lead or WHEN.


That’s the way I write, if I felt a piece coming on about something happening right at this moment, I’d write it.

But at this point in time I didn’t, so you got this instead.

I hope you liked the pictures at least.


The Frankenstein Moon

Stroke of Midnight

Where were you last night at midnight? Would you have wanted to be somewhere else? 

We all know what we’re supposed to do on New Year’s Eve. We all know we’re supposed to eat, drink and be Merry as we weep over the year that’s leaving us and weep over the one that’s coming.

We look at the future like a newborn baby and we have all the hope in the world for it.

All that changes are the clothes, the hairstyles and the addition or subtraction of friends and family in attendance.

So for once…okay I lie…I wish  with every atom I’m made up from that for each New Year that comes my way I could chose the strangest most exotic places to visit and from those places I would toast the New Year on a place like



Miranda is called The Frankenstein Moon because it looks like it was put together with the remains of other moons or left over parts of other planets.

Now scientists believe it was shaped by the gravity of Uranus…which is pretty darn funny when you think about it.

I could make a boat load of butt jokes here but I won’t.

I want too, but I won’t.

Anyway, I’d love to be on Miranda for New Year’s Eve  because it does look like a monster, I’d be all over it with the enthusiam of  a kid with a new bike…but in this case I’d probably take a robot with me


I’d explore every inch of that Monster Moon and in middle of exploring places like this:


I’d turn to my robot, who I’d have named Macbeth, after my dog Hamish Macbeth:

Everyone say 'Hi' to Hamish Macbeth!

Everyone say ‘Hi’ to Hamish Macbeth!

And I’d say, ” Hell’s Bells Macbeth, it’s New Years back on Earth! And then I’d pop open a bottle of Champagne, toast my friends back on Earth and laugh myself to death because I’m on a moon that looks like it was made by Victor Frankenstein and it’s circling a planet called Uranus and damn I love science.


All kidding aside, I think it would be the Bee’s Knees to be able to pick a world, a moon, be on a spaceship that could get up close and personal with a Magnetar (those monsters will suck the iron right out of your blood) and ring in the New Year light years away from Earth.


I think if I could do that I wouldn’t mind getting all mushie and sentimental for the year I missed on Earth, all of my friends and family who I wasn’t able to be with and how I have hope that in the next year I’d wander on back to Earth and stay for awhile.