Only one of them isn't writing related.

Let's start with the positives. Those groups are a great way for a "group" of people to communicate. Especially great for writing groups where files are posted, like newsletters or chapters for critiquing. Groups can use the calendars to keep track of meetings, blog postings, etc. And, there is a digest version you can get as one "lump" email with a group of emails together so it doesn't seem like you got a hundred emails in an hour! They can also be closed groups, with only members allowed in. Sure, that's a plus.

Some negatives? Well, I belong to some rather large groups that do almost all their communicating through the yahoo loops - so they have several - set up for different subjects. These groups tend to be monitored heavily and come with lots and lots of rules of what and when you are allowed to post. A definte negative when you're looking for information or are dying to promote something and you know you're hand will be slapped if you "forget" which day you're allowed to post those things. (I know, I've been slapped before  )

So, I've signed up for yet another group - one that emails you everyday with a list of groups and what you can post there that day.

Yes, I think this is a pain in the ass.

The problem here is that if you're a writer - you need to connect online with other writers. You have questions, you have answers, you have something to say - this is the place other writer's go to connect. So, while Yahoo Groups is evil - it does serve a purpose in my daily writing life.

I've also made some friends across cyberspace (people I see on loop, after loop, after loop) and when I meet them at conferences, it's like we really are friends!

After some careful consideration, I plan to dump as many of my yahoo loops as I can over the next few weeks. I'll be weeding them out and deciding which ones I need and which ones are just a time-suck. I much prefer the forum setting for a group over a yahoo group. Everything is easy to find and the only "rule" is to pick the right place for your post.

How about you? Love yahoo groups or tolerate them as a means to an end?

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Dear local newspaper,

I've tried nicely to end our relationship. I've paid you on time and cancelled my subscription. Really, it's time for you to accept we can no longer meet over coffee in the wee hours of the morning and it's time for you to stop calling my house. No, I don't want another subscription or a trial period to see just how much we're meant for each other.

I've moved on, I get my news elsewhere.

So, really... Stop calling my house!

Thank goodness I'm a romance writer and am always on the lookout for a villain. Lucky for me, my next plot involves a NY publication and you've just moved to the top of my villain list! Although I've repeatedly asked your telemarketers to take me off their call list - I still get at least two calls everyday asking me to reconsider.

Has the newpaper business sunk so low they can't afford to let anyone leave the fold? Or do they think by calling everyday, I will finally give in and take them back for another try? They obviously have no idea who they're dealing with.  Once I've made up my mind you might as well just pack up your toys and get out of my sandbox. We're done.

Now, when I broke up with the NY Times, I had no such problem. A class act, they let me behave like an adult and walk away.

Not so much this time. I've resorted to yelling at the phone when the number flashes across my screen, I've been kept up a night devising plots in my mind on just how to torment the next caller - because nicely asking to be removed from their list hasn't worked, hanging up hasn't worked, not answering the phone hasn't worked...it's be a month. My fuse is lit.

Since it wouldn't be fair to name the culprit without giving them the chance for a rebuttal (and since this is my blog and that will NOT happen!) I'll leave you guessing what paper it really is, if you email me, I'll tell you - so you can run the other way before the harrassing phone calls keep you up at night too.

A nod to my hubby - he warned me nothing is free. (In my defense, it wasn't free, it was a greatly reduced subscription for 8 weeks, and long before my 8 weeks were up, I knew this particular paper wasn't for me.) Six months later, I'm still paying for this debacle with my sanity.

Your turn... any telemarketer stories you can legally share to make me feel better?

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Just when I had my plans for world domination all figured out, I had to go and find this.

Drats.

Looks like I'm in need of Plan B! Anyone know an evil chemist? I'd specifically like to (a) be split in two (b) freeze time to get more done in a day and (c) make myself invisible from time to time.

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We've got drugs, drugs and more drugs.

And a teenager with an attitude.

My life is complete.

Between our visit last week to the doctor and our visit just a few days ago, I think I walked out of the office with an entire prescription pad full of medications, instructions and notes to the school on what the Middle-Guy can and cannot do.

Thank god for the iTouch I got for Christmas. I was able to load up all the details (yes, my friends, organization!) because I damn straight needed an agenda to keep track of all the different times the kid needs to be medicated and all the different requirements for each one.

So, this morning being the wonderful mom I am (no, that is not sarcasm, I really am wonderful  ) I got the Middle-Guy up early enough to get ready for school and eat breakfast - one of the meds specifically says, "take with food."  Of course eating breakfast is not the top priority of my teenager when a few more minutes in bed is the option - which led to the following conversation two minutes before the bus was due to arrive:

ME: "You aren't suppose to take those two little pills on an emtpy stomach."

MiddleGuy: "I didn't. I took it with Vitamin Water."

ME: "That's not food. Take a granola bar to the bus stop."

MG: He left the room (I'm sure there was eye rolling, but I can't be positive)

ME: Followed him. "Toast? Cereal? You still have two minutes."

MG: Back in the kitchen he takes out the Corn Flakes in a tupperware container, flips open the lid and shoves his hand inside. One handful of flakes gets shoved in his mouth. He smiles. "Cereal. Done."

Why do I bother?

We go back to the doctor next week to check the progress with the new meds. I'm thinking of asking for a little something for myself

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Labyrinth ~ n ~ a structure containing winding passages through which it is hard to find one's way.

Today's Word Goal ~ 800 words

Today's Coffee ~ Vermont Country Blend

I have now officially reached the age of weighing what's worse - the problem or the cure.

Two weeks ago I had my very first visit to the gastroenterologist for a few things, among my complaints? Hearburn after the gallons of coffee I drink daily and at night after the Lindt truffles I pop while watching my favorite TV shows. I should add here that I have NO intention of giving up either one of these routines.

To the doctor's credit I think he immediately picked up on my stubborn nature and didn't even mention taking a break from either offenders to see if my symptons went away. Instead he went straight for his trusty prescription pad and scribbled away. He also gave me a few samples to take home and try first.

The first side-effect on the bottle? Headaches. And they're not kidding!

Honestly, I'm not getting the point of these pills. The headache is so bad I want to gouge my eyes out with an ice-pick. Sure the heartburn is gone, but it went away with half-a-dozen tums too and at least I was getting calcium with those babies.

I go back to the doctor next Tueday to report on my progress - question - do I lie and tell him "hey those pills are great!" or do I tell him I'd rather stick with the fruity flavored tums?

And don't say to stop drinking coffee and eating chocolate. I'd rather die.

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Last night I had the pleasure of shopping at local WalMart around 9pm. Feeling quite pleased my holiday purchases I'd carefully selected and placed in my cart, I walked to the cashier closest to the exit I would use to leave the store.

Unbeknownst to me, I got on Scrooge the Evil Cashier's line.

Not only did she grab at my items as I putting them on the counter while complaining with each and every item that it was time for her to leave and she had to hurry, therefore I needed to hurry and get my stuff out my cart asap - but she threw them in the bag without a care and few loud thunks.

When it was discovered that one item was unmarked, she tossed it to the side of her register and proudly announced "I can't sell you what isn't marked."

Um...wtf?

Politely, I asked if we could call someone from that department. She said "No."

I politely commented there was no reason to be rude to me.

She replied, "There is no one back there. You are my last customer, why does this always happen when I need to leave! I'm not calling anyone."

I asked to talk to a manager about her nasty attitude.

She called someone named "AL" he walked by and she said "this customer wants to talk to you about my bad attitude."

To which "Al" replied, "haha, it's the holiday season." AND WALKED AWAY.

So not only did I walk out of the store an unsatisifed customer and without the item in question - but I discovered Scrooge is alive and well and she's a cashier at Walmart Store #2915 at the register right inside the garden center.

Merry Christmas.

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Would you believe my son is 18 today?  I can't! The day he was born doesn't seem that long ago, all the milestones from crawling to now driving...my little boy has grown into a man. Excuse while I go get my tissues...waaaa...

Would you believe I got at LEAST 20 mosquito bites on my ankles, arms and neck in less than 30 minutes? And to make matters worse, I got them standing in front of my house last night defending my 15 yr old to "code enforcement" for the heinous infraction of playing with his airsoft gun with a group of boys at the park. Oh my...what will our youth think up next to terrorize the neighborhood? But do the police come when the teenagers are drinking and shooting heroine in the park after dark? NO. It's much easier to pick on kids playing - because they are the real troublemakers, right?

Would you believe I've joined a group blog?  This one is small, should only require one blog a week from me (I think I can handle that ) and combines my love of paranormal romance, writing and being a mom. Stay tuned, I'll have more details as we get more organized - but I can tell you when we open the doors I'll be giving away a copy of my paranormal Christmas book "Her Knight Before Christmas."

Hope you have a great week!

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glitter-graphics.com

Just in case you haven't figured out that I have a few quirks, today is one of those posts that will enlighten you even more to my odd ways.

Here it is: I hate shoes. I'd go to work in my slippers if I could. And if I'm not running around outside in my slippers (I go through several pairs a year) I'm wearing nothing on my tootsies - yup bare feet.

You would think that running barefoot through my Grandmother's yard when I was four and stepping on that bee would have taught me a lesson - but no. I'm still seen running through my grass and even hopping on the hot pavement all summer long in my bare feet.

(In the winter I go out in my big fuzzy slippers, much to my kids horror! I guess standing at the bus stop with elephant slippers or leopard print slippers isn't a good thing? Maybe it's the fuzzy robe that completes this ensemble? But I digress...)

I still remember the sting of that bee on the sole of my foot. I remember my Grandfather using a tweezer to pull out the throbbing stinger, the foot soak and the bandage they wrapped around my foot. And I remember the "talk" about running around barefoot.

Guess that lesson fell on deaf ears.  Here I am 40 years later still doing the same dumb things. Only now - it's the mosquitos that are getting me every chance they get. Today I sit here typing up this post with both feet up and covered with calamine lotion.

Why?

Because I've got mosquito bites all over the soles of my feet and around my ankles. These bites are my reward for sitting outside keeping the hubs company while he smokes his cigar. I sit and talk, talk, talk and those damn bugs bite, bite, bite!

I'm thinking of investing in citronella scented foot scrub and lotion. (Because it would just be too difficult for me to cover up my feet, right?)  AND if I cover up my feet - how would anyone see and appreciate my predicure - courtesy of the hubby? (Yes, girls, he polishes my toes! )

I wonder if this will teach me? Or maybe I can work this into a story...

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The bulk of this 85k manuscipt is done, has been for a long time, but it's that first chapter that is dragging me down.

It's the old "where do I start" dilema. I know, I know, I hear all the time - start with the action, start with the character that has the most at stake.

It's not like I haven't tried. And believe me, I've set this baby down so many times and taken months away from it thinking I'd see the light when I came back. - WRONG.

To make matters worse, I absolutely adore this story. I can't let it go. (Not like I let anything go once I latch my teeth into it - ask my family, they'll agree I'm like a pitbull with a bone and I absolutely, positively MUST have the last word all the time!)

Okay, you writers and readers out there - what grabs you about the beginning of a book when you pick it up? You want action? Great dialogue? How about the dreaded prologue - Do you skip them?

So, just because I feel the need to be tortured over the next few weeks, I joined Candy Havens challenge to get some revisions/new words done on this - because I AM sending it out soon.

Today's goal? 1142 new words or 17 pages revised.

Wish me luck.

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A few days ago, walking my daughter and her friend down the block I passed one of these:

Have you seen one?  Does it say "optional stop" on it?

Funny, the signs in my neighborhood don't. And I was under the impression that even if your english was limited - you could still figure out what to do when faced with such a sign - I mean you had to prove this in a driving test, right? Most of us didn't get our driving license in a crackerjack box.

Now with my daughter and her friend on one side of the street and myself on the other - a man in a black suv blows the stop sign - doesn't even slow down. Being the big-mouth that I am, I yelled out to him, "you missed the stop sign!"

He stops and backs up.  A conversation ensues (I'm being polite - it was really a screaming match ) - Here is the condensed version...

LAWBREAKER: "I saw it"

ME: "And you didn't think to stop?"

LAWBREAKER: "No one cares. I didn't hurt anyone"

ME: "Um, first, it's the law! Second, this is a residential neighborhood with lots of kids - see them? (I point to my daughter and her friend trying to walk away and pretend they don't know me.) It's says STOP for a reason!"

LAWBREAKER: "I don't have to stop if no one is around"

ME: "What about me? What about those kids?"

LAWBREAKER: "Haven't you ever made a mistake? And stop signs don't really matter!"

ME: "I've made mistakes, difference here is you obviously don't give a shit."

At this point I step to the back of his vehicle to memorize his license plate so that when I see him again, I can make sure I point out the lawbreaker to anyone who cares! (Anyone want it - let me know...I wrote it down when I got home.)

I think I need some kind of badge to flash at people like this - something to scare the pants of them (not literally cause he was old and honestly, I wouldn't want to see THAT with no pants!)

So tell me, do you think stop signs are optional? Or maybe just conditional on if you might get caught or not? What about morals? According to this ass you only need to worry about getting caught - as long as no one sees you breaking a law - it's okay? Is it?  I'm seeing red, and it's not the stop sign.

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