50K, Whaddaya Say?

Well, I got so involved with my gang story, I forgot to brag about hitting yet another blogger milestone. 50K hits. I can’t really believe it to be honest. When I started this blog last summer I thought it would probably last a couple of months and then I’d get bored or it would be so boring that petitions would be circulated to pull the plug. Well slap me silly and color me surprised.

I’ve had a lot of fun with this little piece of real estate in the blogosphere. I’ve met some amazing people and even more amazing writers. I’ve learned about many new things, have become somewhat less technologically challenged and even learned how to use my digital camera. All good things.

I’ve learned how to employ discipline to write regularly. In fact, I’ve never written more, which is a good, good thing. I’ve also become more curious as a person again, thoughts constantly going to what subject or topic I want to post on the blog. Read a lot more too.

But the very best thing about blogging for me is the interaction between myself and people from all over the world, across the country and probably even down the street. I’ve had some amazing debates, conversations and ideas tossed back and forth from all of you guys out there – and I want to say, Thank you. So very much.

I am honored and thankful to all of you for coming, reading, commenting, helping, giving me a laugh, a run for my money and introducing me to your worlds as well.

Much love,

Annie (aka Writer Chick)

An Undeniable Force

 

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever, is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things. [Philippians 4:8].

I have always believed in the lesson of Easter. The ascension of good over evil, light over darkness. To reflect on the idea that there was someone so purely good that he would die for the transgressions of the rest of humanity is staggering. Even if you don’t prescribe to Christainity or believe in any aspect of it, the story of Christ must give one pause.

I know that it is cool and hip to bash Christianity and in fact, organized religion in general these days. That depicting Christ as a criminal, a pervert or even a monster is what passes as art or edgy dialogue – but I reject that as having any validity. To disagree with something does not mean to denigrate it.

The lessons and teachings of Christ are valuable, in fact, most of the moral and belief systems in the world follow the architecture of those lessons. Ponder that for a moment.

Though I was raised as a Catholic (strong Christian attitudes there) I don’t identify myself as a Catholic. The reasons for this are not important to anyone but myself. Nonetheless, I don’t reject Christ as a saviour. Even if he was merely a man, the effect he had and continues to have on the world is worthy of respect and awe. And I can think of few who have had a comparable impact on the world, perhaps no one has.

Even if he was only a symbol of peace on Earth, that symbol brought mankind out of darkness and gave the light of hope. How could this be a bad thing? What could be a better gift to your fellows?

When I was a little girl, I always loved the stories of Jesus and his teachings – they made me feel that there was true goodness in the world. Something the world needed desperately and still does.

So over this weekend, while I am enjoying myself with food and celebration – chocolate bunnies and Easter eggs, I will reflect on how this incredible man changed the world.

Happy Easter everybody.

WC

An Irish Wish…

And in the meantime, check out some of these Irish dance moves.

Happy St. Paddy’s Day everybody!  😉 WC

We Interupt Our Normal Programming to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY BILLIE!

Hey, I don’t care – it’s my blog and really if I can’t use the worldwide web to wish a good friend happy birthday then what good is it?

Billie I love ya and want you to have a great birthday. You are and always will be my first real Taylor Hicks buddy. We shared a very special obsession and truly without you it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun as it was.

I wish to hell that someday we will go see TayTay together in concert and complete the making of total fools of ourselves in utter splendor and abandon – cuz honey if I’m a gonna do that – then you’re the one who I want to do that with.

I thank  you for your cheer, your caring, your humor and even  your bitching. Love  ya doll. Happy Birthday!!

Hugs & Kisses,

Annie

PS: We all pitched in and got you a stripper.

You like? 😉

I Love Me Some Thin Mints! Don’t You?

I don’t know about you but every year right about this time I start to get a little excited. Not because Spring is right around the corner or because a cute guy has moved in to the house across the street but because the cookies of all cookies are about to go on sale.

Yep – I am a girl scout cookie junkie. I just can’t help myself. If there is even one thin mint within a 20 mile radius I can smell it, hunt it down and take it for my own. Since I don’t even smoke any more I figure I am entitled to just this one little obsession.

Also too there is just something sweet and nostailgic about them. They have been around since I can remember and I can remember pretty far back. Always somewhere around spring break you would start to see little cardboard table and folding chair sales stands cropping up – in front of super markets, laundramats, banks and even street corners in some suburban neighborhoods. Naturally when I was a kid I knew many of the salesgirls 😉 now, not so much.

However, I do have one little friend who is probably one of my favorite cookie sellers:  

Let’s call her Cookie-Girl – she does a bang up job, according to her mom and troop mama. But I mean who has to be told, check out that stand, nice display, clean, neat with lots of variety but no clutter. Poifect.

What many of you may not know is that there is a whole lot more to selling girl scout cookies than meets the eye. In the words of my favorite Girl Scout Mama:

Cookie sales gets so much negative crap that people don’t see the good it does. On the money side, it funds the whole Girl Scout program and it helps troops earn money for their activities. (camping, horseback riding, community service projects [one troop paid their way to Build A Bear to stuff and dress bears then donated them to the Fire Department to give to kids that needed them])

On the “Where Girls Grow Strong” side of it (a Girl Scout saying) cookie sales gives girls a chance to learn so much in a safe environment. Sales, money handling, responsibility, people skills, persistence, goal setting, etc. When it’s all over, they have such a sense of achievement! You can see the change in them. They’ve grown!

Also, especially in recent years, there are many troops who are selling cookies in order to send them to the troops. The way it works is this: you buy a box of cookies and instead of taking them home and eating them and making your thighs and butt even bigger, you tell the troop to go ahead and send them to the troops overseas. In addition to this, the kids take a lot of the money they make and send additional cookies to the troops. For example there is a relatively well known program called Operation Cookie Drop, which is a program started by Girls Scouts who managed to send bagillions of cookies to our young men and women in Iraq and gave them a  taste of home.

If you see a local troop selling in your area, ask them what their ’cause’ or program is that they are selling for – I’m sure you’ll discover that they are not in it for a beach chair or so they can all go to Chuck E. Cheeese for a weekend. They are going to do something special with the money for someone who needs it, senior citizen homes, the troops overseas, underprivilidged children and so forth.

So the next time you see that little cardboard table and chairs set up, don’t hide your face and mumble something about being on a diet. Chat with the girls and find out what they intend to do with their proceeds. And don’t be so darn stingy, give them a five-spot and tell them to give a box of cookies to their favorite shut in, kid stuck in a hospital, or a kid in a uniform overseas and far far away from home.

If you want to know when the cookies are going on sale in your area you can go here – type in your zip code and councils in your area should come up, with their schedules of sales.

Heck there is even a myspace girlscout page here.

So for pete’s sake, get some Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas, Trefoils or even som DoSiDos and know that you are likely contributing to something worthy and worthwhile. Heck if you are really worried about your diet they even sell some fudgy sugar free numbers AND all the cookies have Zero trans fats. So let’s not sweat the small stuff, otay.

For pictures, descriptions and nutritional information about the cookies go here

Also, if you just want to help and contribute to a troop who is sending cookies to the troops, I personally know of such a troop and I’d be happy to hook you up with them. If so, feel free to email me.

Okay, let’s get our fat asses down there and be loading up on the damn finest cookies ever made in America. Sound good? 😉

WC

Fragile

I often marvel at what other people think of me. I mean the image they have. Apparently I am some indestructible, always lands on her feet, warrior of perservance and (occasionally) truth. I think to myself ‘if only they knew.’

In fact, I am not that person. Oh sure, I aspire to be that person. I strive to be strong and gutsy emotionallly – independent and cheerful – all the good stuff. But if I were to be honest then I’d have to say that in many ways I’m fragile.

I break easily if you know just the right way to break me. And shatter into millions of pieces. Though you wouldn’t know it to look at me. Because I do my crying behind closed doors. Most of what stresses me out I make jokes out of or do posts about. I poke fun at them and me. In fact, I am the usual target of my own jokes. And everyone generally laughs with me. They think I’m a riot. Some goofy, eccentric oddball who has a very funny perspective on life.

I suppose that’s true in its own way. But I’m still fragile. I still break when I am crashed into a wall. I still bleed when I am cut. I cry when I am hurt. I am not indestructible. I am not the person who is untouched by any and every thing. And I just wish once in a while somebody acted like they knew that. I just wish that once in a while I could be the one leaning on somebody else. I just wish that once it wasn’t my job to cheer up the whole fricking world.

But it isn’t that way and I accept it.

Perhaps in my next life I will get to be the damsel in distress and see what it feels like to have everyone falling all over themselves to make me feel cared for. I wonder what that is like. I really do.

WC

Renaissance Man

(I originally wrote this post last summer while guest blogging for the subject of the post. In honor of his birthday, I repost it here. Happy birthday, Michael – you’re one in a million. Annie)

He’s a writer. He plays a mean piano – by ear no less – hard on the head but easy on the hands from what I hear. He’s a dad. He’s a husband. And to me, a friend. What you would call a real friend.

It’s funny, though we’ve never met face to face and honestly I’m not sure what it would be like if we did, we have fostered a friendship over the last 4-5 years that is rare. We go beyond friendship, almost all the way to family.

He’s shared with me about the tragic illnesses of both of his parents. I’ve told him about my brother who died of AIDS. I know all about his beautiful daughters and how special each of them are to him. About how his wife is one in a million. About his cute little cats. And his big silver truck. He knows about my love-hate relationship with cigarettes. My sloppy, anal room-mate. My hilarious dog.

We met at an online writer’s group, of all places. It was one of those places that wanna-be writers flock to and need-to-write-to-live writers approach with caution. What the heck, it was free and you also got to meet other writers. What’s not to love?

We swapped crits (critiques) on each other’s assignments. Culminating into a ‘story’ at the end of the course. His was the “Goodbye House” mine was “Faith.” From the beginning I admired the work and the man. Always taking the time to really say something, really give you his honest opinion. You could tell this guy had a lot of heart.

Well, our stint at the online group didn’t last long. We both realized in our own ways that truly we were engaging in Writer’s Socialism. Struggling to help the writers who couldn’t and barely having time for the writers who could. We both like to think we were among the latter.

But our friendship didn’t end there. After there were emails. More story swapping. Talking about anything and everything. Yakking on the phone about this and that. Really, somehow this guy became the brother I lost so many years ago. Somebody who I could talk to about anything and everything. Somebody who really cared about what I had to say.

I was amazed by his life and how he took everything in stride. Juggling parents that needed constant supervision, a family, a marriage, a job, doing music gigs on the side and somehow still finding the time to write. For cripes sake he wrote on the train into work.

Not long ago, we got into this wild marathon email where we starting discussing deeply writing – the ins and outs – where to publish – how to publish, the whole ball of wax. And it got positively addictive. It got to the point where we were each jonesing for the next response. We even had discussions about posting it on his blog. But realized that only a lunatic or a psychic would be able to follow it. It’s done us both good. And I hope it continues to do us both good. Keep us inspired and motivated.

Recently, he went on vacation and asked me to babysit his blog. Frankly, I was a little scared. I’d read his blog and hell I’ve read his writing. A little intimidating to say the least. I was sure his ‘readers’ wouldn’t like my style. That it would be a shock to the system to go from warm, gentle Renassaince Man to whacky, who the hell knows what’s firing those synapses Writer Chick. But…I like a challenge and try to force myself to do things that scare me.

So, I’ve struggled along this last week. Trying hard to entertain the troops in his absence. I hope I have done him justice. Cuz he’s a helluva guy and a true Renassaince Man is a modern world gone (almost ) mad.

Writer Chick

Mixed Bag

 

Usually the end of the year is a pretty fun time for me. I love the holidays and the cooking and the eating and the laughing and all around making jolly stuff. A week of happy absent-mindedness follows and then the new year sort of mosies on in – like a new pair of comfy slippers you slide into. Then I start the traditional de-cluge and start chucking accumulated junk, clothes that don’t fit or I never wear, knick knacks that are weird, old socks, dustballs, furballs, this, that and so on. The purge feels good, and it goes nicely with the taking down the tree and putting away all the Christmas stuff routine. Then I start to make plans – what do I want to accomplish in the new year? What do I want to try? Who do I want to meet? Where do I want to go? Stuff like that.

However, this year has not been like that. It kicked off in a sort of rocky fashion and really it’s been rough waters for pretty much the whole ride. It started off asking for a raise and getting a token one – big disappointment but I managed to live with it. Constant attempts at diets that just didn’t go anywhere but the back of my mind to nag me. A lot of shifts in relationships – some good, some bad. A lot of the ‘usual’ activities carried on with my friends didn’t happen. We saw less of each other – busy lives, other things and responsibilities to attend to, shit happens. Roomie was laid off and even though it didn’t happen to me, I still felt the sting of it in a thousand different, tiny little ways – and I even got a bit depressed about it. Zelda, my usual comrade in adventure was otherwise engaged between work and caring for a friend who had suddenly taken ill. The company I work for started to tumble and is tumbling still – which may not seem like a big deal to many but I’d worked very hard to market the company and get its revenue up and had succeeded (hence the request for a raise) and then it all went to shit. I honestly don’t know where we’re going from here. The little voice tells me to get another job – and perhaps that is what will happen – but when you invest that much effort and creativity in something it hurts to see it go by the wayside.

I also started blogging. At a friend’s urging. I didn’t think I’d like it and was surprised to discover I did – and how. There were times, honestly, no lie, when the only thing I had to look forward to was blogging. To see comments from readers, to see my hit stats increasing and increasing. In a strange way, it got me through some very depressed moments. For that, I thank you, Michael and you, readers. Obviously, I couldn’t have done it without you and no matter what happens in the future it’s been a helluva ride and a delight by and large.

The other byproduct of this year is that I find I’ve been doing a lot more thinking that I usually do – I suppose part of it is because of the blogging because you’re always looking at what you’re going to post next – you’re more engaged in the thought process of life I suppose because of it. But it was also what has been happening in the world this last year – politically speaking, it’s been brutal to the point that I can sometimes barely stand to read any news. So much hatred and vitriole spewed this way and that. So much stupidity and lack of care from people in general. Efforts to essentially outlaw religion, rename Christmas and turn our government into the evil, maniacal machine – whilst fellows like Chavez for example is some great humanitarian. Turns my stomach. And made me seriously worry about what will happen to our world if we don’t wake up and do something.

So, I’d have to say this year has been a mixed bag and the new year coming seems to be a mystery bag in the making. I don’t know the course the ship is going to take – but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe if I let the ship guide me the adventure will be a delightful surprise. I sure hope so.

Happy New Year everybody. It’s been a pleasure meeting and knowing every one of you. I thank you for the pleasure of your company, your comments, your insights and your humor. A completely unanticipated but much appreciated gift.

Much love,

WC

Merry Christmas

Have a safe and happy Christmas.

WC

New Friends for Christmas – 12 days of xmas #11

The year I lost my mind and decided to move from California to Florida was pretty weird to say the least. If you have any doubts, go back and read my post called Road Trip. To say it was manic was really putting it mildly and giving me way too much credit.I don’t know if some ancient LSD crystal popped loose or just the usual screws, nuts and bolts that live between my ears – but by God I was moving to Florida. So I did.By the time I unpacked the car and locked the front door I knew I had made a terrible mistake. But see I have this problem – I am really fricking stubborn. I kept telling myself I had moved to Florida for a reason. That it was the right thing to do. That there was something there for me.Well maybe there was. A new friend. Someone I’d never have known if not for the momentary flash of insanity – that crazy drive and much of the misery I experienced while there.Lana was an instant friend. I met her first when I showed up at my first day of work for a firm that – come to think of it I’m really not sure what they did or even why they hired me – but I digress. I walked into the office and there was this lovely, lithe woman with hair down to her waist and kind green eyes. “Oh, are you Annie?” she asked.“No, I’m Myrna,” I answered. I have no idea why I said that, but I really did.

She did one of those exagerated double takes and I started laughing and told her I was indeed Annie. Then she started laughing. And pretty much from there on we were best buds.

Now the job…oy my aching head. Let’s put it this way – the woman who hired me wanted me to take over her job so she could move on to a better position within the company. However, I was not allowed to ask any questions nor ask for supplies or pretty talk to her unless she wanted me to talk to her. She wanted me to devine whatever it was she wanted me to do. And she had this insane obsession with a tasking program. So every morning I was to write tasks and send them to her and that way she’d know what I was doing. And then of course she got to send me tasks and I would get these prompts and weird things that were almost as annoying as that dancing paperclip that Billy Gates invented. Long story short within a couple of weeks I felt like I was going insane.

I would constantly check with Lana to see if I really was insane or if this boss lady really was working hard to make me miserable and to feel absolutely and utterly incompetent. Sadly, Lana confirmed my suspicions. Not too surprisingly, I was gainfully unemployed shortly thereafter. Oh boy was I screwed. The job had paid well and when I hit the job market in general it really sucked. The wages being offered were frighteningly low. I took a job with a real nutjob of an orthodontist (he actually believed his work was greatly helping mankind by providing prettier smiles – I shit you not). But at least I had Lana.

We did everything together. It was fun to have a great fun girlfriend again and it made me even sort of like Florida. She invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and there I met her wonderful husband and adorable little boys. We had a great time – but it was more than that – it was like being home for the holidays. Like being among family. I marveled at this because I had really barely met them, yet it seemed I knew them for a million years. I love it when that happens, don’t you?

Since Thanksgiving was such a hit and Lana and I became closer and closer friends, Christmas was a natural. We had all eaten tons of turkey on Thanksgiving so we decided on a different menu. Lana’s brother was in town and he volunteered to make a roast. I made a vat of homemade applesauce, brought a bag of presents and whipped up some mashed potatoes once I got there.

We exchanged gifts and it was fun. It really didn’t matter what they were – we were just happy to be hanging out. It was one of those Christmasses where nothing in particular happened – no special activities or hilarious accidents – just a bunch of people who really enjoyed one another’s company and yakked their heads off. Lana even bought a present for my doggie – a santa suit. Which I put on her as soon as I got home and took pictures.

So the evening was just that. An evening. A great one. And one that brings back warm memories of friendship and love. As I drove home that night, I knew at least a small handful of people in Florida were actually glad I came. And I guess because of them, I was glad too.