In Other Words, the beach…

I have always lived near the beach:

East Coast, West Coast, Lake Michigan.

I prefer them at sunrise, cold, and empty,

Their stark majesty revealed to me alone,

Waves whispering secrets from the moon.

Laura’s Music Challenge 22

It’s time for Monday tunes! Join Laura’s song challenge! 🎶❤️🤩

1. Post a video of a “feel good” song.

(Apologies to vegetarians.)

2. Post a video of a song that brings tears to your eyes.

3. Post a video of a song that gives you strength personally.

PFF6 ~ Forgettable

Welcome to my Friday Flashback! This post originally appeared here on July 12, 2017, a mere two years ago. Some people (women) are unforgettable, larger than life, and you retain vivid memories of them decades after your last meeting. Even if you’ve only met them briefly, something about their looks or vibe is utterly captivating.

I’m not one of these women. People forget me instantly. They forget my name and that they ever met or knew me. Men who slept with me don’t even recall it. I’m bland and ephemeral. Light as air. I should have been a spy, blending into the scenery wherever I roamed. I do like staying home though.

Windsong

I can’t seem to forget you…
Your Windsong stays on my mind.

Remember that commercial for the Prince Matchabelli perfume from 1980? I thought about it tonight when I unexpectedly ran across someone online from years ago and remembered him, but he had no memory of me at all. It was so vivid for me too, that connection we had during a time that was intense and painful for both of us, about a decade ago, and yet… it clearly meant nothing to him. Nothing at all. He apologized for failing to remember me, but it’s happened before, many times.

When I messaged this man, I was so… buoyant. I think that’s a good word for the emotion I felt earlier today. I had to shop at Target, and the whole time I was a bit floaty, thinking to myself how wonderful it would be to chat with someone who knew me from the time before… before the divorce, before my mother was gone. Why this is important to me, I don’t know. But it is. And so for a couple hours I felt light and happy, certain that my life would take a new direction as the man and I renewed our friendship.

I came home, put my stuff away, fed my kitty, fed the feral kitties (all three were around tonight!), got a snack, logged back on, and after a little while a message arrived. The man did not remember me. Oh well. Then that old commercial jingle popped into my head and I wondered if it would be possible to find it on YouTube. Of course… first hit.

[I replaced the dead video with a new one.]

An Award! 🌸

Lovely Linda has lavished me with a Liebster! Thank you so much, Linda! 💖

First, I’m to present 11 facts about myself. Yes, the dreaded 11… why 11? I don’t know. But there’s nothing to be done about it. Off we go.

1. I’m a single mom of two fabulous adult daughters, and I do take a lot of credit for the fact that they’re both wonderful people.

2. I’ve worked for the same company for 18 years.

3. I’ve been married and divorced twice.

4. I was born in Sleepy Hollow, NY, but I never saw the Headless Horseman.

5. I lived in Chicago, IL for several years, and it was freezing. 🥶

6. I tried to find my soul mate after my last divorce, but nothing worked out, so now I just write all the time.

7. I’ve self-published 6 books of poetry and fiction as Paula Light. 😀

8. One of them will be available in audio shortly.

9. I’ve also self-published 2 romance novels and several short erotica stories as Anna Fondant. 🔥

10. Someone is narrating my first romance novel right now, so it should be available as an audiobook soon.

11. I have a bazillion more novels, novellas, short stories, and collections planned out to write, edit, and self-publish before I die. 🙃

Okay then. Now I’m supposed to answer some specific questions. Guess how many there are? Eleven again. Yeppers.

1. How important is Wi-Fi for you? Is warm running water or wireless internet more important?

This looks suspiciously like two questions to me. Can I get a ruling? Wi-Fi is very important, but obviously warm running water is more important. I don’t want to be boiling pots of water on the stove to wash my hair in the sink. Annoying! 😠

2. Name your favourite blogger (any genre).

Whoever gives me compliments is my fave.

3. If you have to pick a place to settle down forever, where would it be and why?

I’d like to be, under the sea, in an octopus’s garden, in the shade… 🐙

4. What is one silly moment you’ve had that you’d like to share?

I went to CVS yesterday for eyedrops and saw they were having a greeting card sale. I got so excited by the cute cards I forgot my vow to quit buying cards because they’re a waste and I picked out three. Then I forgot to notice if the cashier gave me the third one for free like the sale said. This morning I checked my receipt and of course she charged me for all of them.

5. What is your favourite trait about yourself?

I’m so good at sticking to resolutions. 😜

6. What is your favourite time of day?

Lunch!

7. Tell us your favourite food/cuisine.

Seafood with pasta. I guess that’s Italian.

8. Name three destinations you would like to visit once in your lifetime.

Yellowstone, Taos, Boston. 🚊

9. If you could change something in the world, what would it be?

Get rid of parasites. So gross.

10. What are you most passionate about?

Writing.

11. What is so special about your blog?

It reflects my creativity and my life; it’s not a regurgitation of headlines or clichés. I try to offer fresh and interesting content to keep readers amused. I hope I succeed, at least sometimes.

And… that’s all she wrote! 🙃

In Other Words, voices…

Loud voices, soft voices, voices all a-buzz…

Sweet voices, sad voices, voices that I love…

Voices singing, yelling, cursing, praising,

Barking, humming, meowing, blazing…

WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP PLEASE SO I CAN WRITE IN PEACE!?!?!

One-Liner Wednesday: Struggle

I love Mark Manson. I think I’m finally going to treat myself to his first book, and probably his new one as well. I went through a period of not liking him so much when he became ridiculously popular, since I had discovered him before that and liked “knowing” this secret, niche, edgy writer, but whatever. Can’t hide a light under a bushel, or something. (What the hell is a bushel?)

Regarding the main point, I’ve only really consistently loved and fought for one thing in my life: my children.

Can’t say I’ve really struggled for anything else. I just let things go when they’re hard. It’s my way.

~*~

One-Liner Wednesday

Espresso Cupcakes

Shout-out to Jim, for letting me know about a new (to me) series of prompts from a fun and interesting looking blog. Thanks Jim!

If I have ever tasted an espresso cupcake, it has not been recorded in a blog, at least not one with archives.

Could one of these be espresso?

That second one looks a bit suspicious. But I just don’t know. I think they were bought and nommed up in Berkeley, so they might have been any weird thing.

I would definitely try an espresso cupcake, especially with vanilla buttercream frosting. Mmm! I love coffee flavors. Love coffee ice cream, with hot fudge or chocolate syrup or just plain. I used to pour Baileys over it, but I’ve given up alcohol. God, that was good!

Coffee cake isn’t coffee-flavored though. Isn’t that confusing? You’re just supposed to eat it with coffee (or tea). I used to love Starbucks coffee cake, before they removed half the crumbs to make it “healthier.” Pro tip: it’s still not healthy, but now it’s not yummy either.

Back to cupcakes. Sprinkles has a Cuban Coffee cupcake, available Wednesday and Sunday. That sounds pretty darn close to espresso and I may just have to try it now.

For science! 😀

Money Honey 🍯

Since none of today’s prompts have woken my creative beasts, instead I’m going to fall back on an old classic: the bitch and moan.

Today’s rant is about money. Now, I get that just because people ask for some doesn’t obligate me to give. My feelings are my own issue to deal with. If I feel guilty because I can’t donate to the animal shelter or the Alzheimer’s organization as I would like to, well, that’s my problem. They don’t have to quit sending me stuff.

People have the right to advertise and market. I do, however badly. Occasionally I say hey buy my books, and no one does, so like whatever. But at least I’m offering a product. I don’t say hey send me some money because I exist. See, that’s what I have a problem with.

I really resent being asked for money just because someone is there and I’m here. I have a blog, which I’ve paid for by the way, not that I have to, but I wanted to get rid of the ads, so if you read it in a browser, I’ve made it a nicer experience for you. Some people actually seem to enjoy reading my blog, yayyy! And I enjoy other blogs. Then… I’m asked for a donation? Wtf why? How about you give me one? That seems as fair as me flinging money out at some other blog for no reason other than it exists too.

I’m not a cheapskate. I actually overtip in most cases. But that’s because someone has provided a service. When someone comes up to me on the street or online and asks me for money for nothing, I feel like saying wait can I have some because my rent just went up. I mean, really. I work all the time, and this crap does make me mad.

If you don’t want to write for free on the internet, don’t! Very simple. Package up your beautiful precious words in a book and offer them for sale instead. Just quit begging for donations. It’s gross. If I have extra money to donate sometime, it’s going to real charities as I mentioned above, not to bloggers.

I know they’ll keep asking. But grrrr I am having a problem staying my usual calm and serene self about it. 😡🔥💥

Happy 4th! (with bonus rant)

My latest discovery, which I will share, is that everything is ridiculously complicated and costs too damn much.

In my youth, life was simple (although frequently unhappy). My mom did many things herself, but now these projects are out of reach. Take knitting and crocheting and sewing, forex. Loading up on the supplies costs a fortune and the patterns are complicated, wah. Don’t even get me started on scrapbooking (again) or making bead jewelry. Soooo costly! Plus, in my case, I’d have to take classes first, for jewelry, sewing, cooking, etc. I’m not one who can watch a video for twenty minutes and then go mmhmm now I see how to construct a tiny house, easy peasy!

I remember we usually had an aquarium going on. My mom dealt with it, but it could not have been outrageously expensive because we weren’t wealthy and we lived in small apartments for many years. The aquariums were really pretty, but the fish died often, and we were always traipsing off to the pet store for little baggies of new ones. I bet now though aquariums are just another one of those crazy costly and super complex hobbity bobbity things.

I liked watching the bright little neons dart through the water after their specks of food. We had graceful black and white stripey fish and some goldfish varieties too. A few catfish at the bottom keeping things clean. Mom always indulged me and got a teeny pirate treasure chest for decoration in the sand. Haven’t thought about our aquariums for years…

Ah yes, the sands of time, rushing so fast through the hourglass now, piling up at the bottom, waiting to meet that last big wave that will wash them out to the eternal ocean and then… and then what?

Nothing.

*

You know, I feel I’m pretty chill with anyone who comments here unless they’re an obvious spammer or troll. If you’re of a different political persuasion, cool, just keep it civil and don’t insult other peeps or me. I have accepted loads of criticism and disagreements over the years. Don’t mind it at all, and I particularly welcome any comments on my poetry and fiction. I am not thrilled with advice I haven’t solicited, especially about health, but whatever.

But that’s not the case elsewhere. Some bloggers don’t want any disagreement or difference of opinion. I’ve noticed I will be condescended to or explained at if I dare to express a thought contrary to the OP’s. That is unpleasant, FYI, and I will not be visiting these blogs much or at all in the future.

YHBW. 🙂

Have a great weekend! ☄️💥🔥

FPQ30: The Whole Truth

Fandango provocatively asks…

“With everything that’s going on these days about what truth is and what facts are, do you believe truth and facts are synonymous, or do you concur with Faulkner that they have nothing to do with each other? And most important, does it even matter anymore?”

First, wow, I can’t believe we’re on number 30 already! And he may have skipped a week in there. Time flies like a banana 🍌, or something.

Second, I’m not going to answer this question in the context of politics because politicians suck. They’re all lying liars and the news is all slanted and hypocritical, so eff all that. (This doesn’t mean I’m going to give up and not vote, or write in Mickey Mouse, or anything like that. I’ll vote Dem across the board, knowing that nothing will probably change now, except for the worse, and so be it.)

Third, regarding the question… I apply it to the personal realm. Truth and facts are not synonymous, though they are related. And they do matter, very much. So much that I gave up dating because I could not trust men to tell the truth about anything (yes, I understand that women lie too, but I wasn’t dating them).

When I talk about truth, I’m talking about the collection of facts that complete a story. I will give an example.

Him: “I’m busy this weekend.”

Me: “Oh, that’s a bummer. I’ll miss you.”

Him: “I’ll miss you too, but I promised to help my mom with some stuff around her house. She can’t do all the things she used to. Her lawn is a mess and she has some virus on her computer. I’m not looking forward to driving two hundred miles and back.”

Me: “You’re a good son.”

Him: “Thanks!”

All the things he said were facts about his mom. They could even be verified if I called her (which I wouldn’t). But the story was in fact false. How can that be? He drove the 200 miles and helped his mother, and then he drove back.

But the story was incomplete. After he helped his mother and she made dinner for them, he went out for drinks with his old girlfriend who was in town that weekend. He spent the night with her before driving back on Sunday. So, while the facts he told me were all true, the story was false since it was incomplete.

That’s how they are. And if you don’t trust every word they say, then you have “issues” and are “paranoid.”

Mmhmm.

PS: The above scenario is fictional because the ones from my actual life are too complicated and ridiculous for a blog post, plus make me look bad.