Or should I tell you a story? I've made mention on here that I'm an aspiring novelist. However, I get stuck easily. I've got a myriad of stories going all at once, and most of the time, I have writer's block...horribly. So, I'm thinking about posting parts of stories here, and letting you, my lovely Readers, help me out. There is only one story that will not be written here, and that's Kati and Lalo's story. I've worked too hard on that one, and it's the one closest to my heart. So here's your chance to let me know what you think. I'll give you main names and setting, and you can go from there.
1. Ashley and Andrew. 1850's, Mississippi
2. Lacie and Jake. Present day, Missouri
3. Kalexya (Lexy) and Evan. Present day, space/Illinois
4. There are several little *phbbt* ones that I just had to jot down an inkling of an idea, and they've really gone no further. Nick and Renee, Julia and David, Jenna and Tony...the list might go on. :)
Anyway, let me know what you think.
Oh, and I cannot friggin' WAIT to go to Camp for a weekend! Heep-to-the-WAH!
Mrs. Dreamer
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
There's A Light...
There's a blog I'm subscribed to called 'A Day in the Life of a would-be Bambi.' She seems pretty cool - check her out. A recent post she had was one of 'Honest Scrap'....
The Honest Scrap Award rules are as follows:
* “The Honest Scrap” award is not one to hold all to your self but it must be shared!
* The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves in their blog that no one else knows.
* The recipient has to pass along this prestigious award to 10 more bloggers.
* Those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given this award.
* Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.
Now, this is kind of right up my alley. Most days, you give me a topic and I might be able to run with it. Of course, it would help if I knew more than five people read my blog, so I'm not going to tag anyone or pass this on. :) So...here goes. Don't think less of me, or Mr. Realist, for that matter.
1. If you want to get technical, I've been engaged four times. Just because the bling isn't involved doesn't mean that it's any less of a proposal. Daniel, William, Bob, and Mr. Realist (and the question was asked three times in our relationship).
2. I went through a very rebellious phase my freshman year in college. Drinking loads, smoking stuff slightly less often, and skipping class left and right. I'd always been 'the good girl' - didn't drink in high school, never cut class, was always on the honor roll...and never got invited to parties (THAT was because my 'mom' was a state trooper. What they didn't realize was me going to a party and then calling her to tell her where I was would have been signing my own death warrant. My parentals theory was that 'if you get caught and go to jail, call us to let us know where you are; otherwise, you're sitting there all night). I was on my own, and didn't know how the hell to handle it.
3. Hand in hand with #2, I was a 'jersey chaser' and a 'loft bunny.' Yeah, I had a brief love affair with slutdom. I'm not proud of it, but it was who I was at the time.
4. I became a 'mom' at the age of twelve. Don't panic - no, I've never had children. Mom and Dickhead (the stepfather) divorced when I was twelve. Mom turned to the drink, and my younger sister was my responsibility - homework, food, baths, all of it. At one point, my mother told me to my face that her friends were more important. We've gotten past that, and January first, my mom will have not had a drink in two years.
5. I spent almost six years (not sequential) in therapy. Mostly because of a truly sucky home life with Mom and Dickhead, but also because of a play. 'Unspoken For Time' was the hardest play I'd ever done in my entire life. Mental concrete walls crumbled, and for the first time in my life, I understood what had happened was wrong and not my fault. I've seen one of the several just once since I left college. He smiled at me, and I was nauseated. But then I saw him for what he really is - disgusting and perverted, and not worth the dogshit under my shoe. It still comes back to haunt me now and then, but I embrace that anger and put her to work for me instead of against me.
6. I can belch on command. It's so fabulously gross - I love it!
7. I fall in love with fictional characters and people I will never meet, and yet I don't know if I would last a day without the love of Mr. Realist. He keeps me grounded when I'm off on Cloud 394.
8. I get stage fright AFTER I've walked out of sight of the audience, and have also played male roles.
9. Every single one of my characters in the stories I'm writing (fanfiction does not count) has a part of me or is based off of someone I know and love.
10. There are days when I'd really love to wear makeup (without sweating it off like an overworked nag), but I guess since I don't wear it enough or how to wear some of it, I have the feeling I come off looking like an overworked tranny, making one last show of the evening. And what the hell is with a 31-year old having effing acne?!
Well, there's my ten - five that made me think about actually writing it down, and five that miscellaneously popped into my head. OH, and if you can guess where the title came from, you get to be Queen (or King, whichever you prefer) For A Day!
Be safe out there, all of you.
Mrs. Dreamer
The Honest Scrap Award rules are as follows:
* “The Honest Scrap” award is not one to hold all to your self but it must be shared!
* The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves in their blog that no one else knows.
* The recipient has to pass along this prestigious award to 10 more bloggers.
* Those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given this award.
* Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.
Now, this is kind of right up my alley. Most days, you give me a topic and I might be able to run with it. Of course, it would help if I knew more than five people read my blog, so I'm not going to tag anyone or pass this on. :) So...here goes. Don't think less of me, or Mr. Realist, for that matter.
1. If you want to get technical, I've been engaged four times. Just because the bling isn't involved doesn't mean that it's any less of a proposal. Daniel, William, Bob, and Mr. Realist (and the question was asked three times in our relationship).
2. I went through a very rebellious phase my freshman year in college. Drinking loads, smoking stuff slightly less often, and skipping class left and right. I'd always been 'the good girl' - didn't drink in high school, never cut class, was always on the honor roll...and never got invited to parties (THAT was because my 'mom' was a state trooper. What they didn't realize was me going to a party and then calling her to tell her where I was would have been signing my own death warrant. My parentals theory was that 'if you get caught and go to jail, call us to let us know where you are; otherwise, you're sitting there all night). I was on my own, and didn't know how the hell to handle it.
3. Hand in hand with #2, I was a 'jersey chaser' and a 'loft bunny.' Yeah, I had a brief love affair with slutdom. I'm not proud of it, but it was who I was at the time.
4. I became a 'mom' at the age of twelve. Don't panic - no, I've never had children. Mom and Dickhead (the stepfather) divorced when I was twelve. Mom turned to the drink, and my younger sister was my responsibility - homework, food, baths, all of it. At one point, my mother told me to my face that her friends were more important. We've gotten past that, and January first, my mom will have not had a drink in two years.
5. I spent almost six years (not sequential) in therapy. Mostly because of a truly sucky home life with Mom and Dickhead, but also because of a play. 'Unspoken For Time' was the hardest play I'd ever done in my entire life. Mental concrete walls crumbled, and for the first time in my life, I understood what had happened was wrong and not my fault. I've seen one of the several just once since I left college. He smiled at me, and I was nauseated. But then I saw him for what he really is - disgusting and perverted, and not worth the dogshit under my shoe. It still comes back to haunt me now and then, but I embrace that anger and put her to work for me instead of against me.
6. I can belch on command. It's so fabulously gross - I love it!
7. I fall in love with fictional characters and people I will never meet, and yet I don't know if I would last a day without the love of Mr. Realist. He keeps me grounded when I'm off on Cloud 394.
8. I get stage fright AFTER I've walked out of sight of the audience, and have also played male roles.
9. Every single one of my characters in the stories I'm writing (fanfiction does not count) has a part of me or is based off of someone I know and love.
10. There are days when I'd really love to wear makeup (without sweating it off like an overworked nag), but I guess since I don't wear it enough or how to wear some of it, I have the feeling I come off looking like an overworked tranny, making one last show of the evening. And what the hell is with a 31-year old having effing acne?!
Well, there's my ten - five that made me think about actually writing it down, and five that miscellaneously popped into my head. OH, and if you can guess where the title came from, you get to be Queen (or King, whichever you prefer) For A Day!
Be safe out there, all of you.
Mrs. Dreamer
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Funny Ha-Ha and OMG Moments
It's been an up-and-down couple of weeks here. My full-time job is rough most days, but I'm looking forward to beginning my Pampered Chef business! Anyway, you're probably wondering about the title, and I'll tell you, Dear Readers....
~
Last week...softball game. We'd beaten this team pretty handily the first go-round (some gawd-awful score that I don't even remember), so we were feeling good going out there.
End of the first inning - us, 13-0.
End of the second inning - us, 19-0.
Third inning we decided to change it up. Everyone changed positions...I pitched (something I hadn't done in two summers). First at bat - in the park home run. Hellfire and damnation - I had to go and ruin our shutout. They scored some runs. We're up.
We batted around the order and were on the second go. I hit one into left center and I'm headed for first. Two steps away from first, I trip over my own two feet! Fall down...over first...without touching it. I had to scramble back to be safe. Stand up and brush dirt off of me.
Next girl is up...she hits one long left center and I take off for second. For whatever reason, I cut second short and had to reach out with my right foot and tag the base, heading for third. Doing this...
completely throws me off balance. I stumble. I see the ground coming up at me, so I reached out and pushed away from me, putting me in a 'stop-drop-and-roll' move. Yeah, I'm rolling around in the dirt inbetween second and third like a beached whale. Everyone...and I do mean everyone - my team, their team, the crowd, was in hysterics. Third base had the ball. She was laughing so damned hard that she didn't even try to tag me out. I brush more dirt off of myself, waved to everyone. "Just trying to keep the game interesting! I'll be here all night!"
~
Last night, we played. First go-round with this team, we beat them 25-5, I think. At one point, I got (not had to) slide into home plate and was safe. It was one of those plays that the catcher wasn't sure if she had to tag me or the base, so I made myself as low to the ground as possible.
We were losing 15 to 16, and since we were the home team, we got last at bat. Had two girls on base, and I was up. I hit a wonderful shot deep to left center, making a triple. We won the game 17-16.
~
Now for the OMG moment. I loves my friend Jen's baby Skylar. She's byooooootiful! I get to hold her whenever I can (right now, it's every Tuesday during out knitting night), and she's just so damn cute! Jen fed her and burped her, and then handed her off to me. She was on her tum in my arms, and it didn't take long for her to crash out. Eventually, my arms got tired, so I moved her from tum to back, my left arm supporting her. She was in and out (mostly out)...and suddenly, there was a ripping-type noise, and my hand...and lap was suddenly warm and wet. She'd pooed right out the leg of her diaper. (Insert either horrified sympathy or maniacal laughter here)
Took a bit to clean up, and my capris are in the wash as I type. Wouldn't have been so bad had it not been directly down between my legs and in the chair. Bowlegged it to the bathroom, stripped my capris off and tried to scrape most of the poo off (breastfed babies have slimy poo, or at least this one did)...no such luck. Mr. Realist, Jessi, Jen, Angela all thought it was hilarious (Jen seemed a bit mortified). No worries, Jen - nothing you could have done to prevent it. No harm. Mr. Realist finally gave me the dress shirt he had on from work (he had an undershirt on, pervs), and put it on over my shirt. Even as a cheerleader, I had skirts longer than this shirt. If anyone drove past and saw my ass, I do apologize! I just couldn't sit in my car in soaking wet pants. Mr. Realist calls me 'Poopsmith' now. It's ok, Skylar, you didn't hurt anything. I still loves you.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Mrs. Dreamer
~
Last week...softball game. We'd beaten this team pretty handily the first go-round (some gawd-awful score that I don't even remember), so we were feeling good going out there.
End of the first inning - us, 13-0.
End of the second inning - us, 19-0.
Third inning we decided to change it up. Everyone changed positions...I pitched (something I hadn't done in two summers). First at bat - in the park home run. Hellfire and damnation - I had to go and ruin our shutout. They scored some runs. We're up.
We batted around the order and were on the second go. I hit one into left center and I'm headed for first. Two steps away from first, I trip over my own two feet! Fall down...over first...without touching it. I had to scramble back to be safe. Stand up and brush dirt off of me.
Next girl is up...she hits one long left center and I take off for second. For whatever reason, I cut second short and had to reach out with my right foot and tag the base, heading for third. Doing this...
completely throws me off balance. I stumble. I see the ground coming up at me, so I reached out and pushed away from me, putting me in a 'stop-drop-and-roll' move. Yeah, I'm rolling around in the dirt inbetween second and third like a beached whale. Everyone...and I do mean everyone - my team, their team, the crowd, was in hysterics. Third base had the ball. She was laughing so damned hard that she didn't even try to tag me out. I brush more dirt off of myself, waved to everyone. "Just trying to keep the game interesting! I'll be here all night!"
~
Last night, we played. First go-round with this team, we beat them 25-5, I think. At one point, I got (not had to) slide into home plate and was safe. It was one of those plays that the catcher wasn't sure if she had to tag me or the base, so I made myself as low to the ground as possible.
We were losing 15 to 16, and since we were the home team, we got last at bat. Had two girls on base, and I was up. I hit a wonderful shot deep to left center, making a triple. We won the game 17-16.
~
Now for the OMG moment. I loves my friend Jen's baby Skylar. She's byooooootiful! I get to hold her whenever I can (right now, it's every Tuesday during out knitting night), and she's just so damn cute! Jen fed her and burped her, and then handed her off to me. She was on her tum in my arms, and it didn't take long for her to crash out. Eventually, my arms got tired, so I moved her from tum to back, my left arm supporting her. She was in and out (mostly out)...and suddenly, there was a ripping-type noise, and my hand...and lap was suddenly warm and wet. She'd pooed right out the leg of her diaper. (Insert either horrified sympathy or maniacal laughter here)
Took a bit to clean up, and my capris are in the wash as I type. Wouldn't have been so bad had it not been directly down between my legs and in the chair. Bowlegged it to the bathroom, stripped my capris off and tried to scrape most of the poo off (breastfed babies have slimy poo, or at least this one did)...no such luck. Mr. Realist, Jessi, Jen, Angela all thought it was hilarious (Jen seemed a bit mortified). No worries, Jen - nothing you could have done to prevent it. No harm. Mr. Realist finally gave me the dress shirt he had on from work (he had an undershirt on, pervs), and put it on over my shirt. Even as a cheerleader, I had skirts longer than this shirt. If anyone drove past and saw my ass, I do apologize! I just couldn't sit in my car in soaking wet pants. Mr. Realist calls me 'Poopsmith' now. It's ok, Skylar, you didn't hurt anything. I still loves you.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Mrs. Dreamer
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Completely Random
** Saved from icanhascheezburger dot com - too kyoot!**You know, I was musing today at work (got quite a bit accomplished today! shut my door, stuck my earbuds in my head, and listened to some tuneage every time I was in my office. I find I concentrate better with music), and I started jotting some things down that you might find interesting...or disturbing - your call.
1. World of Warcraft: a fugging addicting MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role playing game)...or it can be at times. I have six different characters in different levels, all different races (human, night elf, dwarf, draenei) and classes (mage, warrior, druid). My mage Sharmaralyn (interesting name) is my highest level. She's a lvl 68 human mage. She can take down three lvl 68 or 69's baddies all by herself. She's kind of a big deal. Lately, I've not played as much as I did when I first started. Right now, there's more things I could be doing: writing, playing softball, knitting, cleaning out boxes of crap. When winter hits, I'll be back leveling Shar and Erda and Kalexya and Donnae (o Lord...please don't let me go off of the deep end)...erm...well...yeah.
2. Writing: what I should be doing most of the time, but I'm not. I'm trying to work with a beta (Megan from high school) and get some things worked out. I guess I need to start lugging around my computer so I can write write on my lunch hours and whilst travelling. Anyone got a good idea for a boy's name beginning with D? I'm trying to come up with a section as to why the Dean doesn't like L (he seems to be in trouble quite a bit), and why Mr. S set this seemingly unreasonable demand on K.
3. Friends: I don't feel like we do enough with our friends. It seems like every couple that we're friends with all have children, and the one that doesn't, lives forty minutes away. I hate talking on the phone...and most of our friends would rather talk than text. Boo.
4. Mr. Realist. God, I love this man. Poor guy right now has a headache the size of Alaska. Jessi's neck rub helped for a bit, but it's back. He's snoozing peacefully next to me as I muck around on the Interwebs. He keeps telling me that it's ok we're not pregnant yet, but I know it hurts him just as much as it does me whenever she shows up without fail. He's going to Lake of the Ozarks this weekend - Erich from college called him up and invited him to go down. Erich and his wife Susan (live in KCMO, Suse is in Chicago doing a residency) have a timeshare in LotO, and if they don't use it, they've lost out for the year. So Erich's calling up his buddies, and there's like eight of them going. Mr. Realist is taking his clubs because there are like nine courses within like thirty miles of the timeshare. I hope he has a good time. He needs to get away and just be with the boys. I love him madly, but there are some times that if he doesn't get out of my space, I'm going to shoot him! (not really, but he does exasperate me sometimes!)
That's it for now. We've got a softball game tomorrow night, so wish us luck. The first time we played this team, we won 25-5. I don't care if we win or lose, I just want us to play well.
1. World of Warcraft: a fugging addicting MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role playing game)...or it can be at times. I have six different characters in different levels, all different races (human, night elf, dwarf, draenei) and classes (mage, warrior, druid). My mage Sharmaralyn (interesting name) is my highest level. She's a lvl 68 human mage. She can take down three lvl 68 or 69's baddies all by herself. She's kind of a big deal. Lately, I've not played as much as I did when I first started. Right now, there's more things I could be doing: writing, playing softball, knitting, cleaning out boxes of crap. When winter hits, I'll be back leveling Shar and Erda and Kalexya and Donnae (o Lord...please don't let me go off of the deep end)...erm...well...yeah.
2. Writing: what I should be doing most of the time, but I'm not. I'm trying to work with a beta (Megan from high school) and get some things worked out. I guess I need to start lugging around my computer so I can write write on my lunch hours and whilst travelling. Anyone got a good idea for a boy's name beginning with D? I'm trying to come up with a section as to why the Dean doesn't like L (he seems to be in trouble quite a bit), and why Mr. S set this seemingly unreasonable demand on K.
3. Friends: I don't feel like we do enough with our friends. It seems like every couple that we're friends with all have children, and the one that doesn't, lives forty minutes away. I hate talking on the phone...and most of our friends would rather talk than text. Boo.
4. Mr. Realist. God, I love this man. Poor guy right now has a headache the size of Alaska. Jessi's neck rub helped for a bit, but it's back. He's snoozing peacefully next to me as I muck around on the Interwebs. He keeps telling me that it's ok we're not pregnant yet, but I know it hurts him just as much as it does me whenever she shows up without fail. He's going to Lake of the Ozarks this weekend - Erich from college called him up and invited him to go down. Erich and his wife Susan (live in KCMO, Suse is in Chicago doing a residency) have a timeshare in LotO, and if they don't use it, they've lost out for the year. So Erich's calling up his buddies, and there's like eight of them going. Mr. Realist is taking his clubs because there are like nine courses within like thirty miles of the timeshare. I hope he has a good time. He needs to get away and just be with the boys. I love him madly, but there are some times that if he doesn't get out of my space, I'm going to shoot him! (not really, but he does exasperate me sometimes!)
That's it for now. We've got a softball game tomorrow night, so wish us luck. The first time we played this team, we won 25-5. I don't care if we win or lose, I just want us to play well.
Until next time, heepwah and be safe out there.
Peace out, bean sprouts!
Mrs. Dreamer
Mrs. Dreamer
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Day...
You know, I'm really trying to keep things updated here. It's not working very well, is it? My apologies.
Got to see Tom's niece on Saturday. She's cute, and when she cries, she sounds like a baby bird. But...there was no heartfelt emotion. Here's what I mean.
Jen had her third (Skylar) on Wednesday, July 15th. I went up and saw her on the 16th, still in hospital (she was born via C-section), and was instantly in love with that little girl. Even made me tear up a bit while I was holding her. I'm terrified, but ready.
We've been trying trying for eleven months, haven't used any form of prevention since last June or so. We thought we might have been in March, but alas, no. Every month since then, when the bitch arrives (and you ladies know who I'm referring to), it hurts. I cry a bit, get a little snarky with people, take a deep breath, and go back to the drawing board the next week. Please don't tell me "it'll happen when it happens" or "stop thinking about it and you'll get pregnant." You don't know that. Mr. Realist thinks it might be him (since he's taken several shots to the boys - not just your accidental kick horsing around, but an accidental sledgehammer shot), but of course the doctors won't do anything about it until we've been trying for at least a year. Anyone know of any questions I should be asking at my yearly at the end of August?
Anyhoo...when I hold Skylar, I can't wait to be able to hold one of my own (even though I'm scared shitless about it!). That feeling was not there when I held Aubree. It might be some of the external circumstances.
Erika is pushing everyone in her family away, including her 'Bubba' (Mr. Realist) - 'I'm just looking out for my daughter!' We're wondering what kind of deal she made with babydaddy to get him to sign the birth certificate. He wasn't going to, and his mother advised him NOT to sign it!! Fine. Let the little asshole go to Ohio to truck driving school (that he could do in Springfield through LLCC) for six months, let him cheat on you and bring you home a wonderful VD, and wonder where all of your friends and family have gone because you continued to push them away, even while he was gone. *sigh*
~~
Going to start my 'Couch to 5K' in 9 weeks jogging schedule tonight. If you're interested, my friend Carrie found it at coolrunning.com, and she loves it. On week three, and is finding she can run after all! I need a watch with a timer on it now.
~~
Bear with me - I'll try to keep posting.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Mrs. Dreamer
Got to see Tom's niece on Saturday. She's cute, and when she cries, she sounds like a baby bird. But...there was no heartfelt emotion. Here's what I mean.
Jen had her third (Skylar) on Wednesday, July 15th. I went up and saw her on the 16th, still in hospital (she was born via C-section), and was instantly in love with that little girl. Even made me tear up a bit while I was holding her. I'm terrified, but ready.
We've been trying trying for eleven months, haven't used any form of prevention since last June or so. We thought we might have been in March, but alas, no. Every month since then, when the bitch arrives (and you ladies know who I'm referring to), it hurts. I cry a bit, get a little snarky with people, take a deep breath, and go back to the drawing board the next week. Please don't tell me "it'll happen when it happens" or "stop thinking about it and you'll get pregnant." You don't know that. Mr. Realist thinks it might be him (since he's taken several shots to the boys - not just your accidental kick horsing around, but an accidental sledgehammer shot), but of course the doctors won't do anything about it until we've been trying for at least a year. Anyone know of any questions I should be asking at my yearly at the end of August?
Anyhoo...when I hold Skylar, I can't wait to be able to hold one of my own (even though I'm scared shitless about it!). That feeling was not there when I held Aubree. It might be some of the external circumstances.
Erika is pushing everyone in her family away, including her 'Bubba' (Mr. Realist) - 'I'm just looking out for my daughter!' We're wondering what kind of deal she made with babydaddy to get him to sign the birth certificate. He wasn't going to, and his mother advised him NOT to sign it!! Fine. Let the little asshole go to Ohio to truck driving school (that he could do in Springfield through LLCC) for six months, let him cheat on you and bring you home a wonderful VD, and wonder where all of your friends and family have gone because you continued to push them away, even while he was gone. *sigh*
~~
Going to start my 'Couch to 5K' in 9 weeks jogging schedule tonight. If you're interested, my friend Carrie found it at coolrunning.com, and she loves it. On week three, and is finding she can run after all! I need a watch with a timer on it now.
~~
Bear with me - I'll try to keep posting.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Mrs. Dreamer
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