Perceptions and Illusions

Eeeeek! I have an emergency. A book emergency.

It is Viridia. I checked on the little fella today, and was shocked to find that it had gone into a deep decline. I had no clue it was feeling so depressed.

Well, to be honest, I didn't even know that books could get depressed. I thought they just sat happily on shelves waiting to be read.

But look for yourself. Viridia is in such a bad shape that I could barely recognize it.

I feel so guilty. It is all my fault. I asked loads of people to review Braumaru and Cerulea, but Viridia got left out, neglected, and pushed aside.

There is only one thing to do, one way to bring Viridia back from the brink. But I cannot do it myself. I need your help.

It is a dangerous mission, but if you have courage I know you will succeed.
Viridia can be saved.

All you need to do is write a review on Amazon. Show Viridia that you care.

And since Viridia is a green book, you will be helping our planet be a little greener, so we all win!

Labels: Behold the Eye, family, frivolity, life, myth or reality, Viridia

I--like many people in this big bad world--have had my share of times I trusted the wrong person. Times I took a person at his/her word, and believed that that person would act in a manner consistent with my moral code.

Only to have my faith in humanity cracked and my heart broken just a bit.

Silly of me, I know, since I am old enough to know better. It is one of the lessons that children learn while still in school.

One instance I remember vividly did happen in school--only it was college, not elementary school.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called the University of Washington, I was studying to be an archaeologist. I had the good fortune to get into a practicuum at the Burke Museum, and I was having a blast. I loved every minute of it. The comraderie of the students and teachers, the professional atmosphere in the archaeology lab--but I especially loved that I got a chance to curate a 1949 field school all by myself. It was heavenly.

In the spring, we went on an overnight field trip to Odette, an archaeological site on Neah Bay. To get there we had to drive for several hours, park our van, and hike 4 hours out to the site, which was right on the water. We were all warned to bring plenty of water, since there was nothing at our campsite by sand, mud, and trees. If we wanted something, we had to hike it in.

I had prepared for the trip carefully. As a mother of 4, I was used to making sure that I had everything I could possible need. Change of clothing, check. Snacks, check. A gallon of water, check. Tent, check. Sleeping bag, check.

I was ready.

As I was repacking my backpack in preparation to begin the 4 hour hike, one of my classmates, a young man of about 22, voiced concern about the heaviness of my pack. He said that he was used to hiking with a pack, and that he would gladly lighten my load.

Right on top was my gallon of water. He pointed to the water, and said that he could easily add that to his pack, and he would be glad to transport it for me to the campsite.

I looked at him and noted that he seemed to be an athletic guy, and since he was at least 8 inches taller and 40 pounds heavier, he probably would be better able to handle the weight of the water. Besides, I had a couple of smaller bottles with me for the hike, so I thanked him and handed over the water.

The hike was exhilirating and beautiful. For the sake of convenience, we split up and all went at our own pace. Although I was not even close to the first of the group to make it to the site, I was proud to discover that I was far from the last person. I held my own.

I set up my tent and unpacked my backpack. Noticing that I had drunk all of the water I had carried on the walk, I went in search of the nice young man who had offered to carry my main supply of water.

Imagine my dismay when I found him, and he informed me that he had drunk it all. The entire gallon.

I had no water the rest of the day, no water that night, and no water for the 4 mile hike back to our vans.

A crack reverbrated through my very being as a new crevice formed its way across my faith in humanity, and through my heart.

Which didn't help my thirst one bit.

But who could I blame, but myself. I was old enough to know better.

Labels: history, life, myth or reality, world

It is that time of year again--time for me to get out paper and pencil (or keyboard and computer) so that I can figure out what I really want from the coming year. Yes, you guessed it. It is time to create the handy-dandy list known as the New Year's Resolution.

Now don't get me wrong. This isn't the only time of year I make lists. I am constantly listing out what I want to do during the day, the steps I need to complete a project, groceries that need to be bought. But this time of year I make a special list that in no way compares to all thosee normal, mundane lists. This list is fun, and without pressure.

Because come on guys, we all know the secret of the New Year's Resolution ...that any list made on the last day of the year has magical powers. Since a last-day-of-the-year list comes at an end, instead of a beginning, it can be safely ignored without guilt. It's sole purpose is simply to be written, and then forgotten. And because of this, it is the best list in the world.

So here goes. In 2010 I resolve to:

Clean my house top to bottom at least once a week.
Learn to hate chocolate.
Give up coffee.
Learn to detest potatoes of all sorts, but especially potato chips.
Brush my teeth five times a day, whether they need it or not.
Shave my head.
Have my husband cook dinner every other night.
Have my youngest daughter cook dinner every night my husband is not cooking.
Learn to like horror movies.
Learn to like flying.
Learn to like being cold.
Learn five foreign languages this year.
Go fishing.
Hug the troll under the Fremont Bridge.
Teach the Jupiterians how not to play practical jokes.

There, that should do it. Wish me luck with my resolutions!

-And-

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

P.S. You might notice that I didn't mention whole categories of my life that typically show up on the New Year's Resolution List, like health, or important career goals. I left those out on purpose. They are already on other lists, and I don't want to run the risk of forgetting about them.

Think about it. You might want to do the same.

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, world

Those jokey Jupiterians are hard at work again, unfortunately.

There is some kind of proportion formula working between me and the Jupiterians. The more important a project is to me, the more likely the Jupiterians will exert themselves to play practical jokes. And right now my project is right up there with...with...well, it is so important I don't know what to compare it to.

I am working on the cover for the Department of Temporal Adjustment, and I am well aware that people do judge books by their covers. So I have to get it right. The cover must be superb and perfect. It must exude humor and excitement, without being funny or amateurish.

And while I am working hard to create the perfect book cover for the DTA--and it must be perfect since its job is to entice readers to first pick up and then read the book--the Jupiterians are throwing every possible distraction at me imaginable. Packages, all of a sudden, require signatures. The dog barks, and when I look, no one is around. My computer dies suddenly due to lack of power, even though I had plugged it in a few minutes previously.

But Jupiterians, I will prevail. Give me your worst.

Or, on second thought, you don't really have to. You've distracted me quite enough. I get the point, you are funny, funny, little Jupiterians.

What's that you say? You want me to put one of you, a Jupiterian, on the front cover? But the book is not about...

Oh, I see. You would be satisfied with life size image, one no humans would even notice.

I'll tell you what, Jupiterians. You leave me alone long enough to get this cover done, and I will seriously think about it.

Great! It's a deal!

They sound so cute when they giggle like that--at least they do as long as they aren't giggling because of some joke they played on me.

I wonder if they realize they are invisible to humans?

Labels: book cover, DTA, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, publishing

In the news, all I ever seem to hear about is the Swine Flu, otherwise known as the H1N1 virus. It can strike people in unexpected ways, sometimes with deadly results.

The Swine Flu is horrible, and we all need to do everything we can to stop its spread, but it isn't the only flu out there we need to be concerned about. This past week I was bogged down...by the Turtle Flu.

I know it was the Turtle Flu because I had all the classic symptoms. All food resembled worms to me. A pleasant hello from a family member was rewarded by a gruff snap.

But the most telling symptom was my speed. I mmmmooooovvvvveeeeeddddd vvvvveeeerrrrryyyyy ssssslllllooooowwwwwlllllyyyyy. (Yes, it was as irritating for me doing it as it is for you reading it.)

My family caught the brunt of my illness, but even the neighbors, who I didn't even catch sight of all week, suffered. My dog, who percieves her territory as consisting of everything within a 3-mile radius, spent the better part of the week barking at every noise--real and imagined. Instead of calming her like normal and using her barking as a training opportunity, the Turtle Flu dictated my response. I pulled my head deeper into my shell of covers and floated off into a sea of dreams.

Dreams punctuated by irritating, high-pitched, never-ending barks, but dreams nonetheless.

I am getting a bit more energy now, and I look forward to resuming my normal life. Food once again looks like food, I can talk instead of snap, and I am able to move from one side of the room to the other in under 20 minutes.

So as you are protecting yourself from the H1N1 virus, more commonly known as the Swine Flu, don't forget to also protect yourself from its irritating little cousin, the Turtle Flu. No one deserves to have a week of the turtle. No one.

Labels: family, frivolity, life, myth or reality, world

I know November is not over yet, but I have reached the 50,000 word count, so I'm done with NaNoWriMo! I have never been so tired of writing in my life! I will most assuredly take a break for a week or so.

I almost didn't finish. Friday I pushed very hard and hit the 41,000 word count, only to be rewarded by a melt down. As I reread some of what I had written, I was horrified. My plot didn't flow, the characters were flat, and to up my word count I had started doing really silly things. The worst was having the main character of my story go to story time at a library, and then writing into my story what the character would hear.

When it hit me that I had trashed my first draft I almost cried. All I was doing was giving myself a lot more work to do in the rewrites. I decided that NaNoWriMo wasn't worth it. So I put away my computer, ran a nice warm bath, and decided to chalk it up to a lesson learned. I evidently was not capable of writing 50,000 words in one month.

But then, as I relaxed in the bath, a miracle occurred. I realized why the holes in my plot existed, why the characters were flat, and even better I realized what I needed to do to fix it.

I was revived and energized. I stayed up until 2 a.m. Saturday morning fixing my novel.

I am glad I did. I once again feel good about what I have written, so instead of being distrait, I look forward to finishing this novel.

But most important, I have silenced that little voice in the back of my head that tried to convince me that I was setting myself up for failure.

I would give an evil little laugh myself, just for the fun of it. But I'm too tired.

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, writing

It is time for a little update on my progress with NaNoWriMo.

I have not finished writing for the day, but my current word count is 27,408. So take that, you sneaky little voice in the back of my head that said I couldn't do it! I did not get sick, and I am way, way past the 3,000 words you predicted.

Where is that evil little laugh now?

There it is! There is the laugh.

Why the evil laugh, when I just told you that you have failed? My writing is coming along just fine. I am right on target. Slightly ahead as a matter of fact.

Oh. I guess you are right, I am far from finished. But no, just because I took a few minutes to write on my blog does not mean I have given up.

Does not!

Sorry, got to go. I've got loads more writing to do. I am on a mission to prove that little voice wrong.

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, writing

The oddest thing happened to me this morning. I got my cup of coffee, started my computer, and sat down to write.

Only, when I reread what I wrote the day before, I was horrified. WHAT HAD I BEEN THINKING! It was horrible, the worst I have ever written.

I know that because of NaNoWrimo I am rushing through, but it was almost as if I hadn't even written it myself. It did not sound like me.

Is that whispering I hear? Jupiterians, is that you?

Hello Jupiterians! I haven't seen you for a while, I thought you might be gone for good. I'm happy to see you back.

What do you mean, maybe I won't be so happy?

Why are you so upset? What do you need to tell me?

Oh.

Well, I can't say I am happy that you deleted everything I had written and rewrote it for me. I appreciate the sentiment, but I would rather you let me do my own writing.

I don't care if you think what you wrote is better. I have a right to do my own work.

Yes, that is how I want it!

Well, fine to you too.

Don't cry, Jupiterians. I don't hate you. I can fix it.

Yes, I promise I can. I always save a copy outside of my computer every day I write. I can retrieve that one and start exactly where I left off yesterday.

Ah, the sound of giggles. Everything is back the way it should be.

Labels: frivolity, Jupiterians, myth or reality, writing

I was told it could happen, but I didn't think it was true.

I was warned about it, but ignored the warning. In my ignorance, I believed it could never happen to me.

Yet it did.

My little baby book, the newborn creation that I began just yesterday, already has a will of its own. A strong one.

It took me two full years to write my last book, mainly because I wrote it in first person, and it was hard! So when I finally finished the last word, I vowed to stick to the much more intuitive third person. I never again wanted to struggle with those strange verb tenses that rear their ugly heads with first person writings.

Yet, as I reread what I wrote yesterday, I noticed that it just didn't flow. Something wasn't right. The voice, well, the voice was missing. Which, I suppose, is okay, since it is just a rough draft. Only...well...why not make even that first rough draft as good as it can be.

Especially since, as I thought about the story I planned, I realized that I didn't need to try to give the story a voice, it already had one. I could hear it loud and clear. It was talking directly to me.

So today I rewrote yesterday's writings--in first person. It slowed me down a bit, and I'll have to scramble a bit more to reach my 50,000 words in one month goal, but it was worth it.

Wish me luck!

Labels: life, myth or reality, world, writing

I just finished my first day of writing.

word count: 2470 (not bad!)

I created an outline, so I know basically what will happen in each chapter, and exactly how the story will play out. I also began the first chapter.

I'm satisfied--for today.

P.S. I haven't seen hide nor hair of the Jupiterians for a while. I hope they keep their distance until the end of November!

Labels: life, myth or reality, writing

November is almost here, and so is the National Novel Writing Month. Every year I say I'm going to participate, and every year I don't remember about it until halfway through the month.

But this year is different. This year I'm all signed up and ready to go.

Except...well, I have discovered one problem. I'm a chicken.

Every time I've mentioned to my family that I plan to write 50,000 words in one month, a little voice in the back of my head does one of those evil laughs. You know, something like 'bwa ha ha ha ha'.

It is so distracting. And scary. It is like having Vincent Price living in my head.

I hate to admit that I'm afraid of that little voice in the back of my head. Although I shouldn't be, it is a powerful little voice, and it has had a lot of practice telling me what I cannot do.

I suppose I should be thankful that the voice is now focused on NaNoWriMo--it seems to have forgotten about all the other parts of my life. Yesterday it said, "you'll never be able to write 50,000 words in one month, why even try?" The day before it told me, "anything you write that quickly will only be trash, so give it up now and don't waste your time." Today it is saying, "you'll be sorry if you try it, you'll get all cranky and you'll only write 3,000 words and you'll get sick."

Hmmmm. Now that I think about it, the voice seems to be getting desperate, like it believes it will fail. And if it fails, that means...

50,000 words, here I come!

Labels: events, frivolity, myth or reality, world, writing

Labels: frivolity, life, myth or reality, writing

I've been vlapped! No once, but twice.

It happened this weekend. We had a family birthday party, and one of the guests, a 3 month old baby, was giving his parents a hard time. I could tell the parents were upset and tense (they are new parents and haven't had him out after his bedtime before), so I offered to walk him a bit to calm him. I wanted to give the new parents an opportunity to enjoy the party and regain their cool.

I knew I could help, since I'd had plenty of practice with my own 4 children, nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc. I'm a pro at keeping the tension out of my body, which is key for calming irrate babies. A baby always knows if the person holding him is stressed.

Vlap! The father of the child told me that I would not be capable of helping. (Even though I've successfully managed to soothe multiple babies, multiple times.)

Okay, I thought. I'll just back off. I'm sure this man who has been a father for all of three months knows loads more than I do about handling babies. I only have a mere 23 + years of experience.

The party continued, and the parents were unable to participate. After about an hour the baby was calm, but not asleep. I asked the mother if she wanted me to hold the little tike so she could socialize for a bit.

Vlap! The mother of the child told me I would not be capable of helping.

So there you have it, two vlaps in one party.

What? You have never heard the term 'vlap' before? It is a term I picked up from the Jupitarians--it means virtual slap. It is used all the time on Jupiter.

I like the term.

And in case you are wondering, a vlap hurts like the dickens--just like a slap.

Ouch!

Labels: family, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, world

Success! (Or at least, half success!)

This morning I reached the halfway mark. I am now officially halfway finished with the last rewrites I need to do of the DTA. I was beginning to feel I'd never get here.

So much for finishing them all before the end of summer.

I don't understand what has slowed me down so much, but every time I start work the phone rings, or the dog barks, or my computer won't work, or something else happens to keep me from progressing like I should.

Giggles? Do I hear giggles? Jupiterians, are you here?

What do you mean, you hope I liked your jokes? What jokes?

You were the ones who called me on the phone and hung up as soon as I answered? You made the dog bark? You made my computer suddenly shut down? Why?

I see. They were great jokes. I can tell you really have enjoyed the pranks you've pulled.

What is that? They weren't just pranks, they were for my own good? How so?

Well I appreciate your concern, but I really don't see how getting the manuscript finished sooner rather than later will hurt anything.

You want to make sure I don't publish until next year? Well there is no fear of that now. But why will 2010 be a better year than 2009?

You say it is because of 20 divided by 10. And what exactly does 20 divided by 10 mean to you?

Yes, well, it is 2 for me too.

Laugh away, Jupiterians. Laugh away.

It must be a cultural thing.

Labels: DTA, frivolity, Jupiterians, myth or reality, publishing, writing

The price for Behold the Eye trilogy has been lowered! Thanks for the new lowered price belongs to...

Pepper, the Wonder Dog!
Why do I call her a Wonder Dog? Well, she was getting so shaggy she looked like a little brown bear, and I had begun to wonder if she was really a dog.

You see, I've wanted to get Pepper's fur styled for a while, but she didn't want it, and she is from a stubborn breed. She let me know in no uncertain terms that she liked her fur long, curly, and matted.

I can't say I blame her. I also remember the fiasco that occurred the last time I took her for a fur cut. She left the pet salon scalped and humiliated. She looked like a naked mole-rat instead of a Schnoodle. She was embarrassed, and I was embarrassed for her.

So I had to be sneaky, which was okay since I had a plan. First I watched a few dog breed competitions on TV with Pepper, and I commented on how silly the shaggy dogs looked, and how great the groomed dogs appeared. I kept up my commentary throughout each entire show.

I noticed Pepper looking in my direction several times, which encouraged me to hope that my words were having the desired effect. (Although I must admit that due to the overgrowth of hair I was unable to read Pepper's expression, and she might just have been irritated that I was talking during her shows.)

When I felt we had watched enough pampered pet shows I put the rest of my plan into action. I laughed loudly at one well groomed dog told Pepper that understood why she wouldn't go in for a fur trim, that I bet she would hate to have such a stylish haircut.

Pepper just looked at me for a moment and looked away.

I asked what was wrong, and as she looked at me through her shaggy dredlocks I could tell she was ready for a change. So I told her that if she would gather up enough courage to trust someone near her with shears, I would gather the courage to go to bat with my publishers to get the price of my books lowered.

All is well that ends well.

Pepper is still camera shy, but if I get the chance I'll post her new stylish do!

Labels: Behold the Eye, family, frivolity, life, myth or reality

I'm confused.
I'm flabbergasted.
I'm, well...I'm puzzled, perplexed, mystified, befuddled, bewildered, and baffled.

I just don't understand what is happening on the air waves today (or now that so much is digital, I probably should say cable waves). First there was the normalizing of language that makes me blush. This language has never found a place in my mouth, yet I cannot stop it from bombarding my ears. And now...

Last night I heard the following sentence: "I need to make sure the bookcases are functionalability." 'Functionalability'? Why the 'ability'? Why not good old 'functional'?

I had heard this same man use 'functionalability' several times before, but each time I assumed I had heard wrong. Unfortunately, I had not.

What is happening? Is it bad education, bad memory, or, or, or...

Eeeeeek!
We're being attacked, I just know it! What better way to weaken a country than to break down communication. And what better way to break down communication than to create multiple subgroups with totally different vocabularies.

I can see it now. Within a few years, popular music afficionados will hold long conversations with each other that sound a little like: "Have you seen bleep bleep bleep bleep? Bleep ate all the Cheerios bleep bleep bleep. I need to go to the bleep store and bleep bleep bleep buy groceries." (excuse the bleeps, I don't say those kinds of words)

While those who take a more homey approach will say to each other: "I flipped it with functionalability and styleousness, so my houseability reached mountaineous proportions. I think it's because of the vertacalability of my clothes."

I cringe at the next step taken by the perpetrators of this dastardly deed. What will they do? What is in store for our national vocabulary, which is being disintegrated one misused word at a time.

We must save ourselves! Rise up citizens, protect your mouths and your minds!
Read a dictionary!

Labels: blogging, frivolity, life, myth or reality, world

Reality TV is great, isn't it.

It is especially great for enriching our vocabularies. Since I've begun to watch HGTV, TLC, BRAVO, and the Food Network, I've heard words the likes of which I never knew existed. Words that are so new the dictionaries don't even recognize them as words yet.

Take for example one of my favorites verticalability - which seems to apply to fabric that creates a long, lean look by making the eye move up and down rather than side to side.

So I'll keep watching the shows, and I'll keep adding to my list of new words, because hey, I want to have the best vocabulability I can possibly have!

Labels: blogging, life, myth or reality, world

Most people can’t hide their true characters for any extended length of time—Jason Mesnick certainly couldn’t.

Oh, I’ll admit that in the beginning, he had me fooled just like everyone else. I saw in him what so many others saw, a clean-cut, successful, fun-loving, eligible bachelor. I wondered how he was holding up after the heartbreak he endured when he was rejected by DeAnna. I pitied him, having to rear his poor, motherless three year old son by himself. I wanted him to find happiness.

Again and again, I thought, “Poor man! All he wants is to find a good woman to make his family whole again. A woman who will be a loving mother to his cute little son, Ty.”

By the third episode The Bachelor had become a family event. All activity halted as we watched Jason struggle to uncover the true personalities of each of the 25 bachelorettes while maintaining a decorous distance. It was a difficult task, to keep the girls from throwing themselves at his feet, but he handled himself very well as he pruned away those he knew had no chance of becoming his own true love.

Immediately after the end of the show the phone calls would begin. “Can you believe how that girl acted?” “How can those girls be so desperate, don’t they have any pride?” “Poor Jason, having to put up with that kind of behavior!”

Yes, all we could think about was poor Jason. He was a man in a million, a glowing example of how we women wanted the men in our lives to act.

But as I said before, a person’s character can only remain hidden for a limited amount of time. Jason’s true colors showed as soon as Molly, Melissa, and Jillian had been given their roses, and all the other bachelorettes had been booted from the building.

I don’t know what happened. Maybe a strange wind blew in from the wrong direction bringing with it pollen from the Nasty tree. Maybe there was a full moon, and Jason decided he needed to howl.

All I knew was that suddenly, I no longer felt sorry for Jason—my pity had transferred to the girls. Or maybe I was just embarrassed for them.

What kind of respectable man made out with multiple girls on national TV, one right after the other? He said that he wanted to marry one of these girls, yet he viewed each with equal lustfulness.

Had he no shame? Did he not know the meaning of respect?

I began to wonder about his ex-wife. What exactly had broken up their marriage? Was he really only concerned about his son, as he said?

By the last show, I really wasn’t surprised when Jason dumped Melissa for Molly. I now viewed Jason with disgust; and his actions validated my belief that he was the type of guy who would ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’.

I was, however, momentarily surprised that Molly would take him back. Until I remembered that this seemingly sweet, confident girl had subjected herself to the humiliation of dating on national television.

Come to think of it—they were the perfect couple. They deserved each other.

Labels: blogging, life, myth or reality, writing

It's 102 degrees outside. It's a heat wave! Love it!

Inside my house is pleasant, but I must admit that outside is rather hot. So hot that my usually outdoorsy dog, Pepper, won't set a foot outside unless it is absolutely necessary.

If anyone is brave enough to open the front door Pepper's natural curiosity makes her get up to investigate. But she doesn't get any further than sticking her nose out of the door. I guess her curiosity is like coconut butter--it just melts away in the heat.

She is spending her day moving from cool spot of floor to cool spot of floor. I can't say I blame her. She is, after all, covered from head to foot with thick black fur.

My husband, on the other hand, I don't understand. He began to complain of the heat early in the day, while I still felt a tad chilled. What will he do if he needs to go outside for some reason?

Anyway, it is nice to not be cold for a change. I think I'll enjoy the heat wave while I can. From inside the house, of course. Where it is bearable!

Labels: family, life, myth or reality, world

It's odd. I am in the point of my book that I hate--when I have to check that everything flows and that I use the right tenses consistently throughout. It can only be termed as grunt work, because it's hard, it's time-consuming, and it does not require very much creativity.

Yet this morning, I had fun. I really enjoyed the hours I spent revising the DTA.

It makes me wonder...am I doing something wrong?

Oh no! What if the Jupiterians are playing some sort of cruel joke on me that I have not yet discovered? Will I find all my hard work erased tomorrow? Will my computer crash? Will the sun continue to shine so that I cannot remain indoors? (Okay, the Jupiterians really have nothing to do with the weather.)

I might as well stop worrying about it. Time will tell.

And the sun is calling!

Labels: DTA, Jupiterians, myth or reality, writing

Pepper finally agreed to sign her modeling contract and photo release. So now, after more than a year of mystery, Pepper's face and form can be revealed to her adoring public.

Her first pose I call "The Regal Schnoodle", and Pepper pulled it off royally! Unfortunately, immediately after this photo was taken Pepper began to look for better light.

She soon lost her modeling focus.

And the photo shoot had to come to an end.

Labels: family, frivolity, myth or reality

Sigh.

Pepper is outside barking again. Every morning, every night, and several times during the day she runs outside and begins to bark and howl and make all kinds of noise.

I'm trying to be patient with her, but I cannot figure out what she is barking at! There are no cats slinking across her territory, no kamakazee birds swooping down to steal her food, no militant squirrels marching across the fence to their acorn stash, nothing. I can find absolutely nothing that could make her bark like this unless....

Sigh.

Now that I'm listening for it, I can hear it. Chuckles, giggles, and guffaws. It's the Jupiterians, up to their old tricks. Again.

I wonder if it would be possible to train a dog to ignore something that I cannot even see?

Sigh.

Labels: frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality

It had been many years since I had a dog. As a matter of fact, the last time I had a dog for any length of time was when I was a child.

So did I forget what dogs ate, or are Schnoodles unique?

If Pepper (our Schnoodle) was allowed to eat whatever she wanted her diet would consist of 5 main food groups: the front yard, paper, wood, socks, and plastic.

It is bad enough that she eats our yard, but things inside our house aren't safe either. Around our house, "my dog ate my homework" isn't a joke, it is a fact. Anything left on the floor or on a low table is fair game for Pepper. Homework, books, credit cards, sunglasses, pens, pencils...you name it, she has probably consumed it.

I wonder who I should talk to to correct the name of her breed. She isn't a Schnoodle, she's a Schnoodloat.

They didn't really mean to leave out that she was part goat, did they?

Ummmm, or did they?

Labels: family, frivolity, life, myth or reality

Do you want to know my favorite compliment I have ever received?

It was when I was 17 years old, and it was given to me by a 17 year old boy who was madly in love with my best friend.

One day we were talking about the wonderfulness of my best friend and determining strategies he could use to get my friend to notice him. For a reason I couldn't understand, since there wasn't a natural break in the conversation, the boy became suddenly quiet. After silently looking at me for a several minutes he said, "You know, you are no raving beauty, but you are kind of pretty."

As a 17 year old girl I was devastated. I desperately wanted to be a raving beauty, and I was insulted and hurt that I had to settle for being "kind of pretty".

It was only years later that I realized the true intent of the compliment. He was not really commenting on my physical self, he just didn't know how to express what he meant.

By saying I was "kind of pretty" he was trying to tell me he valued my friendship. He appreciated the hours I had spent listening to him blather on about the glories of my best friend.

After all, it isn't every teenage girl who has the patience to listen to a litany of another girl's wonderful attributes. Again and again and again.

It isn't exactly a self-esteem builder.

So, after years of being bothered by the compliment, I'm happy to be able to say that I have figured it out. He was complimenting my good nature.

At least, that is what I've decided he meant. And I'm sticking to it.

Labels: history, life, myth or reality, world

Sometimes, it is very difficult to separate fact from fiction.

There is a part in my new book where the main character gets trapped in a room. No matter how hard she tries, she just cannot open the door to leave the room.

I was writing that segment the week before last. I finished, put away my stuff, and went to the door to open it.

It was thoroughly stuck. The knob would not turn. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the door to open.

Lucky for me my husband heard my calls and succeeded in releasing me from my prison. Good thing too, since I'm a tad claustrophobic, and the only other way out of the room is through the window, the room is on the second floor, and I also have a fear of heights.

This week as I wrote, my character was again dealing with doors, and was very pleased that she was able to go through doors that were partially open. So she was careful to not fully close the door of whatever room she was in.

I looked over at the door of the room where I do my writing, and had to chuckle. I had not closed the door all the way, fearing that it would become stuck again.

So which way is it...is fiction grounded in fact, or do our real lives somehow mirror fiction?

It makes you think, doesn't it?

Labels: life, myth or reality, world, writing

I just love the creative process!

Day one: Overhear something on the news that sparks my interest. Would love to write about it, but it doesn't fit my style. Decide to forget about it.

Day two: Idea won't leave me alone. Decide to work up a plot anyway. Frantically write down as many ideas as possible, but I'm frustrated that things just don't gel. Decide again to forget about it.

Day three: Spring awake in the morning with the plot fully worked out. It seems that my brain didn't want to accept defeat and so kept working on it all night while I slept!

Only problem, now I have the plots for five , maybe six, books I want to write! I'd better hurry and finish the one I'm currently working on.

Labels: dreams, life, myth or reality, writing

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the air has that lovely crisp clean feeling that makes me feel not only alive, but wonderful. I look around me at all the beauty that surrounds me even here in the city, and I can't help but wonder how anyone could deny the existence of God.

I know people who vehemently don't believe in God. They claim that they are scientific people--beings who need proof of anything before they can have believe in it. Scientific proof. And since no one has ever successfully proven the existence of God, they will not give credence to the existence of a higher being.

They, of course, turn a blind eye to the fact that no one has been able to successfully disprove the existence of God.

I've thought about their view of the world, and it saddens me that they are denying themselves so much joy, so much hope, and so much stability. And all because they feel they are too educated to believe in what they call superstition, when in reality, they are too uneducated to really understand the scientific process. Because science is about questions, not really about answers. If we knew all about how our world works, if there were no questions left to answer, science would not exist. It would be dead.

It is true that science cannot prove the existence of God. But that is because science can only hope to find answers to questions that are quantifiable. Science works best if there is something that can be measured, changed, remeasured, changed again. If the scientist cannot manipulate it, then no experiments can be created and the whole thing is merely a theory. And theories are by nature only proven until someone else comes along and disproves it.

Of course, that means that since God cannot be disproven, God is a viable theory.

The funny thing about these self proclaimed "scientific nonbelievers" is that they'll eat up even the most hair-brained theories put out there by a scientist even if no proof is has ever truly been found. If they want to believe that this, that, or the other is true, they require amazing little hard proof.

Except when it comes to God. For them, God is the one theory they cannot accept.

Go figure!

Labels: family, life, myth or reality, world

I applaud your self-restraint! Not only did you stay away from my daughter's wedding--allowing it to be beautiful, wonderful, and event-free--but the absence of your pranks for an entire week was a wonderful respite. Just what I needed. I never knew you could be so kind.

What is that you say? You didn't know anything about the wedding? How can that be, when we've been preparing for it for months!

You've been gone on vacation for how long? Yes, I understand that it does take quite a while to travel back to your home world. And you being gone that long does explain you not realizing something special was going on.

But wait a minute, just last week someone moved my keys three times, the dog was acting crazy for no reason, and I tripped for no apparent reason.

Why are you snickering? What is so funny?

I am not forgetful, of course I realize the dog is still a puppy, and I do not have big feet!

Okay, I'll give you that. My feet are gigantic compared to your feet. Your feet are so tiny I can't even see them. But please, give me a break. Wouldn't I look funny trying to walk around in your shoes?

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality

I'm not afraid of failure, and why should I be?

Every failure, every mistake, every struggle makes me a stronger person, or at least they can if I take the time to pay attention to the lessons they can teach me.

I remember when I was a gymnast and I practiced for hours and hours every day. Almost never was I able to accomplish a new move perfectly the first time. It took try after try, flop after flop, until I would get the move down right. But even though throughout those many tries I would make so many mistakes that there was no way I could consciously keep track, I didn't mind. I knew that my mind and my body were both learning from the mistakes, and that it was only a matter of time before everything would come together and the move would be perfected.

The same holds true in all other aspects of my life. When I have somethng new to accomplish I rarely hesitate out of fear. I don't agonize over mistakes, since I know all I need to do is pick myself up, dust myself off, and try again. I will succeed, if I only keep trying long enough.

Which is why I say failure is my friend. As long as I continue to have periodic failures, I can continue to grow, to learn, and to succeed.

**Okay, this is really funny. I've already tried to publish this post 9 times unsuccessfully. If you see this, you'll know that I kept on trying, and succeeded the 10th time.

***Actually, it was more like the 20th, but who's counting!

Labels: life, myth or reality, world

I unsubscribed from 65 sites today. Later I checked my email, and I had 25 new ones!

BLAH!

Good thing I didn't say it was okay to give out my information!

Labels: librarian, life, myth or reality, world

As a librarian who teaches what to do and what not to do on the Internet, I often have the following conversation with my class:

Me: So you should never do that.
Class: Have you ever done it?
Me: No, I haven't.
Class: Then how do you really know you shouldn't do it?

Yes, I know I can give them very good arguments explaining how you can be sure that something is bad without trying it. For example, I know it would be very bad to be hit by a car, and it is not necessary for me to walk out onto a busy street to be sure.

Still, whenever I can safely give something a try, I do. I've edited Wikipedia articles, blogged, built websites, etc. But even for the sake of the students I refuse to forward forwarded emails, click on possibly bogus links, break copyright laws, plagairize, hack into someone else's account, or give out my passwords to anyone.

But I thought, I really thought, that signing up to do online surveys would be a harmless experiment.

Wow, was I wrong! Within an hour, my email inbox was innundated with junk mail, and not only from the survey group. I got email from:
• other survey groups, just in case the first company didn't give me enough surveys to satisfy my opinion-giving craving
• grant sites that promised money for free I could use for anything I wanted
• online colleges telling me I can get a better job if I just got a higher degree
• work from home sites in case I didn't want to leave my home to work
• coffee companies that wanted to jump start my day, whether I left my home or not
• insurance companies who wanted to assure me that if something happened to me they could make sure my family had all the money they needed
• debt relief sites that wanted to rescue me from all those nasty credit cards
• personal products like shoes, makeup, wrinkle-relief creams
• various things that make me blush, so I choose not to write about


Talk about an efficient group. They must have a very good system set up, to be able to share my personal email with such a diverse group so quickly. They have the skill of networking down pat.

I'll be cleaning this mess up for a while. But at least now I can truthfully say that I have first-hand experience that tells me it is unwise to give out my email to any site that I'm not 100% sure about.

And that you should not believe them when they say they won't share your information with anyone.

Labels: blogging, life, myth or reality, world

I can't believe it! I simply can't believe it! If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes...well, even seeing it I have a hard time believing.

I'm sure you wonder what I'm talking about, so I'll tell you. My dog has learned how to cook!

Don't believe me? Frankly, I don't blame you. I barely believe myself. But I've got proof, right here, right in front of me. An entire meal, hot and ready to eat, prepared while no one but Pepper was at home! (I've already called all my family and checked--no one has even attempted to take the credit.)

Even while in shock I can figure out what happened. I am guilty of underestimating Pepper's intelligence. Whether good or bad, and we have a genius dog.

It's funny. I had noticed the intense stares I received each time I entered the kitchen to prepare a meal. I simply thought that Pepper was just exhibiting the nosiness normal for Schnoodles. And, of course, that eternal hope that a little food would fall to the floor.

Little did I know that Pepper was watching me so that she could learn to cook. Amazing! I so misjudged her intense gaze.

But honestly, can you blame me? Has anyone else heard of a dog that could cook?

Hey, what is that noise? It sounds...I think it sounds...yes, it sounds just like the Jupiterians trying not to laugh too loud. Like when they play one of their jokes on someone and....

Wait a minute! Does that mean this was another of their jokes? Pepper hasn't learned to cook?

Sometimes life with the Jupiterians is a little too, well, unusual!

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality

I love the way students are curious about details of a teacher's life. And, given half an opportunity, how they will try to dig out a few extra details.

As I was teaching a class this week, the subject of a person's age came up.

One student piped up, "Mrs. Tabares, are you 26 years old?"

"No," I responded, "that would be pretty much impossible, since I have a 23 year old daughter!"

"Oh, you have a 23 year old daughter," chimed in another student, "are you 50?"

"No, I'm not 50."

"You're 27!"

"No you're 35."

"I think you're 65."

"Are you 43?"

Immediately, the entire class erupted into a multitude of guesses--a wide range of guesses.

Only a few took the time to add in order to make an appropriate guess. Just like I could not be 26 and have a 23 year old daughter, I was not likely to be 27 or 35 either.

I told the class I was somewhere in between their guesses, and that we had to get back on subject.

But in a way, their inability to guess my age was very appropriate to the subject of study, which was the difficulty of figuring out if a person really was the age they stated on the Web. I was trying to teach the students that the Internet was a foggy place, where it is very hard to see the true identity of a person. People with ill intent often give false information about themselves to gain trust.

I have no ill intent, and I in no way am trying to change my identity. Which is a good thing, since these students are as yet unable to decipher truths about a person standing right in front of them!

Labels: life, myth or reality, world

No worries.

No, no, no, I'm not being insensitive or uncaring! This is all planned.

You are shocked I would be a part of this dastardly deed? What are you...oh...I understand now. You are confused about the fireworks. Maybe I should explain a little.

The Space Needle is not under attack. Every year, when a new year begins, people want to make a lot of noise and celebrate the new beginning. Kind of have the old year go out and the new year come in with a bang. To to this we....

No! We do not "sacrifice a building to the great one". You've got it all wrong, we are not blowing up the Space Needle, we're just making noise!

Well, I guess we just want to make a big show, you know, just because we can.

What? No! I do not want you to help out with the fireworks! That would be scary. I think the people in charge are doing a bang up job by themselves.

Yes, I know that you could easily bring down the building, but that's not the point. We want the building to remain unharmed, all the buildings.

Yes, I know you think we are missing out in the fun. But trust me, it is better that you let us celebrate our own way, even if you don't understand. We Earthlings are rather odd that way.

Well, why don't you just yell "Happy New Year"!

And a Happy New Year to you.

Labels: frivolity, Jupiterians, myth or reality, world

There are still a few days to go, but outside it looks like the perfect Christmas card.

Looking out my window I can see about 8 inches of snow piled up on our fence. It is still early morning, so there is very little contrast between the white of the snow and the pale gray of the sky. But still, it is beautiful.

What is it about snow? It can turn the ugliest landscape into a thing of beauty. Even town dumps are transformed. Gone are the dirty piles of trash and discarded couches, they are magically replaced by pristine white mountains, seemingly untouched by mankind.

I guess every so often, God wants to remind us that there is a ton of beauty in the world. We only have to look at things the right way.

So we are given the gift of snow. It is cold, wet, potentially dangerous, but painfully beautiful.

Thank you God.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Labels: family, frivolity, myth or reality, world

I am thankful for the many blessings I enjoy, and the most important blessing to me is my family.

Therefore, I am thankful for that first awkward, but strangely magical, blind date with my husband almost 25 years ago. Everything that could have gone wrong did. Which makes it important to remember that an uneventful date is a forgetable date.

Aren't I lucky that that first date was very like our marriage has been? Unforgetable, eventful, and full of surprises...surprises that my husband and I have learned we can always handle, as long as we handle them together.

I am thankful for my four wonderful daughters, who have all grown into beautiful, witty, intelligent, strong young women. I radiated pride yesterday at the family dinner when aunts, uncles, a grandmother, and cousins were able to partake of the numerous dishes my children had cooked, packed up, and transported to the get-together. To know that my children have grown to be so giving, so hard-working...it does make a mother's heart glow with joy.

I am also thankful for...what? You want me to let everyone know what you are thankful for? Why certainly, I'll read your prepared speech for you, though I am a little surprised. I didn't know Jupiterians celebrated Thanksgiving Day.

Let's see...it says, "We like to thank our fellow Jupiterians who have always given us support. We would like to show our gratitude to the Foundation, without whom we would not be here today. We would also like to thank the Saturnians for clearing a path through their moons so that we could make the great strides we have in space exploration. Without their help, it may have taken an extra millenium..."

Wait a minute, this speech isn't about Thanksgiving!

Yes, I know you are giving thanks, but it is not the same. Thanksgiving is about giving thanks for blessings, not giving thanks to people. Okay, okay, so officially they aren't "people". Still, I don't think you get it!

What? You are positive you know all about it because you watched it on TV? You saw a show about Thanksgiving on TV?

Oh, I see. You saw the Academy Awards.

I think I'll just let it go. Some things are just too hard to explain!

Maybe I should find a way to limit their TV time!

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, world

Jupiterians,

Word has been sent from your homeland that you are desperately needed there. You must drop any and all projects you have here, and zip back to your planet before it is too late. Quickly. Right away.

What is that? You think your project to slow down Viridia is too important for you to put aside?

But you must obey the call of your fellow Jupiterians. You cannot let them handle this crisis alone. They need your help. Now. Right now. This minute.

What is the crisis? Well...I think is is best that you get the details directly from those that are living the tragedy in your homeland. So you must hurry back.

Why did I get the message instead of you? Ummmm...well...there is a very good reason they sent the messge to me instead of you. They...they...they tried you reach you, but you didn't answer. They couldn't wait so they gave me the message to pass along to you.

The message? You must return at once before all the trees on your planet are destroyed. Your help is immediately and urgently needed.

Why are you looking at each other like that? This is serious! All the trees on your planet have developed a rare and deadly form of the Dutch Elm disease, and you must take a few of our trees back immediately so that you can start to replenish your forests right away.

Why are you laughing so hard?

Your planet doesn't have trees? It is made of gas?

I knew I should have paid closer attention in Astronomy!

Labels: Behold the Eye, frivolity, Jupiterians, life, myth or reality, Viridia, world

In my youth, I had a theory that people could easily be placed in generations based on their place in a family. If you were a parent, you belonged in the parent group, you were the parent generation. All parents were the "parent age", and should willingly hang out with the other parents. It worked the same with grandparents, who enjoyed the company of others of "grandparent age".

But then, people started talking about Baby Boomers. I was shocked to learn the long span of years that were included in a "generation". Around 20!

Okay, so here's something to think about.

A generation is defined as approximately 20 years. If I was born at the beginning of my generation and I had a child at the age of 18, my child and I would be a part of the same generation.

Totally destroys my theory!

Labels: blogging, history, life, myth or reality

Okay, you Jupiterians. I know you're out there. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?

What do you mean, you are tiny compared to humans? Did I ever say you were bigger than humans? Or even than my dog, Pepper? Do you think that your small size makes it okay to not play fair?

Besides, where did you get the idea that "pick on someone your own size" only applies if the tormentor is bigger than the victim. Germs are tiny, and most humans would prefer if germs picked on someone their own size, like maybe other germs.

What? Of course I know it was you! Don't be silly.

Prove it? No, I can't prove it, but I know your style. You like to be sneaky.

Why do I believe you are the culprit? Come on! Why else would Pepper come running and screaming through the door like she did. I looked outside, and there was nothing out there that could have scared her, and she didn't have a scratch on her.

Ah ha! So you admit it, do you? That's good. That's a start.

But let's get this straight. If you want to slow down my writing, pick on me. Leave my dog alone!

Labels: family, frivolity, Jupiterians, myth or reality, writing

Plastic. Everywhere I look there is plastic. Plastic bottles, plastic table cloths, plastic plates, plastic chairs, plastic spoons, plastic forks, plastic tables, plastic shoes, and on and on and on.

I wonder if the inventor of plastic ever imagined what a monster he/she was creating.

Plastic seems harmless enough. It's easy to clean, resists breaking, is light-weight, and can be make into any shape desired. And oh, it can last virtually forever.

Which is the biggest problem of plastic. It seems that creating things out of material that lasts forever may not be such a good idea after all.

But when it comes to environmental lore, how do we separate fact from fiction? Which stories are true, and which have been constructed to push an agenda forward.

Take for example the following story about the world's dependence on plastic:

Somewhere out there, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, there is a place where the water swirling clockwise meets water swirling counterclockwise, and a vortex is formed. This vortex has acted as a natural vacuum cleaner for the ocean, pulling in bits and pieces of plastic to this one location. The accumulation is said to cover an area the size of Texas.

My first thought is:

Texas! Couldn't it at least be a smaller state, like Rhode Island, or maybe Connecticut? And who, pray tell, is going to take on the gargantuan task of emptying the trash out of the vacuum? I can just hear the echoes across the world of "It's not my mess".

But then I begin to analyze. Who says this plastic Texas exists? Do they have an agenda they are trying to push? Has any reasonably unbiased group studied this?

So now I am reserving judgement. The report comes from a group that is not known for being unbiased.

This doesn't necessarily mean that the story is untrue, it just means that I cannot yet accept it as fact.

Labels: life, myth or reality, world