*emerging cautiously from the wilds of cyberspace*
I’ve been getting a few emails, demanding, “Where have you been?!” What folks should have been asking is, “Where house you been?!” Yeah, ok, that’s a terrible pun.
Well, when I last posted, the Non Stepford Family was on a house hunt. And it was HELL. I have a few posts coming to detail how terrible it truly was. Continue reading
Ok, I know this is going to be inflammatory to some, but it’s really bothering me.
I’ve seen my news feed on Facebook flood with links to this article, praising the Mom for having her six-year-old son take her out on dates.
He opens doors, pulls out her chair, pays from his allowance, and figures out the tip.
“Teaching him how to treat a lady.” is the idea.
Here’s the problems I have with this. Continue reading
Wow. 2015. What a year that was.
Some of it was mind-blowing, earth-shaking, holy-crap-what-just-happened. Both personally, and in the whole writing gig. Continue reading
I know it’s been awhile. Apparently, recovering from a cross-country move took more out of me than I thought it was going to, then I plunged into doing NaNoWriMo. For those who don’t know what that is, its National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write 50,000 words between Nov 1st and Nov 30th.
How’d I do?
I did it!
So, kicked it…but only about halfway through my first rough draft. Working away on that still, albeit slower than in November. Christmas, and all that jazz, amIright? Oy.
I’ll catch up on the Christmas Chaos soon, but for today…Snack Food of Strife.
Wolf and I have been having an ongoing battle when it comes to munchies. I blame him. Continue reading
We’ve considered making him wear the horns permanently, as a warning to the public
Dear Mr. Bongiovi,
Jon, (can I call you Jon? Yes, I know technically, it’s ‘John’, but going with the stage name. And, it’s politer than, ‘Object of Lust For Over 20 Years’. Trust me.) I just want you to know, you’re taking over my home. My life. It’s worse than when I was a teenager, and Slippery When Wet hit the charts. I thought I was a fan then, rocking out in my acid wash stretch jeans, crop top, and glued to the music video shows.