C.D. Taylor's Blog, page 4

12 Days of Crosswords Contest: Clue #5

12 Days of Crosswords Contest

Day 5: December 18th

Clue:

5 Down-Why is the floor all wet?

*please forgive the lack of fun graphic for this clue, we are experiencing technical difficulties*

12 Days of Crosswords Contest: Clue #4

12 Days of Crosswords Contest: Clue #3

Christmas Vacation…oh the horror!

Christmas Vacation

I’d love to convince you that this post will be about the ultimately hilarious popular film, but alas it is not. But before you decide to sign off, maybe you should keep reading. You see as a parent I am faced with certain frames of time in the course of a year that tend to make me develop a nervous tick. Yes, I’m speaking of those cherished times when my one and only child has time off from the grueling hours he puts in at school. No, he’s not in college (I freaking wish) he’s only in fourth grade. I know the kids need a break, I remember looking forward to those times when I was in academia land. But as a parent now, I realize that my parents probably weren’t jumping for joy at the prospect of having me around 24/7 when those blessed vacations came along.

Kids are truly amazing creatures. They develop right in front of your eyes and grow overnight it seems. Their ability to absorb information is something of a sight to behold. Their little arms around your neck and their tiny lips upon your cheek each day is something of a privilege. Then one day that tiny child sprouts into something of a holy terror and you find yourself screeching at the top of your lungs in an intelligible decibel— that I’m fairly certain only dogs can hear. You’re asking what this has to do with Christmas Vacation, aren’t you? Well here it is…Christmas Vacation is the hellish time of year when we as parents are saddled with our children for an amount of time that can be equivalent—in my mind, to about 30 years in a federal penitentiary. The only difference is, if I misbehave, I don’t get the pleasure of solitary confinement. This period of time makes me that much more thankful for the teachers and staff that corral my kid from eight to three, Monday through Friday.

Yeah I know, I sound like the world’s worst parent. There are so many couples that want kids badly and can’t have them. Well here is my offer to them…take mine for about a week and then tell me if you still pray for that screaming, shitting, bundle of joy.

With any complaint of mine I figure I need the evidentiary support to back it up. I can’t very well sit here and post this without a rhyme and reason for my trepidation of the subject, now can I? I truly hope you’re prepared…

Just the other night I shuffled my son off to the bathroom to take a shower, I really should’ve known something was amiss when he wholeheartedly agreed without grievance. He tends to take long showers, and honestly, I let him. Why not? It keeps him from frazzling my nerves for about thirty minutes. When all was said and done with his personal grooming time, I went into my bathroom (I needed to do my business) and discovered a heinous occurrence. My angel of a child had decided to dump acetone fingernail polish remover into the dispenser of Cottenelle wet wipes! Oh yes, that happened. I consider myself lucky that I smelled the remover before I tried to wipe myself with one of those chemically laced death cloths. Wouldn’t that have been one hell of an E.R. visit? “Yes doctor I seemed to have swiped a searing death wipe over my intimate bits and now I have a flaming ass and vagina!” The story doesn’t stop there either. I then discovered that my sweetie had used my bottle of liquid makeup to paint some sort of post impressionistic art on my vanity. Not a huge deal to some, but I’m a frugal noodle, that bottle was fifty freaking dollars! Oh you want more? Well here ya go…He then decided that my face powder sponge needed to be soaked in shaving cream. Yeah, I know…weird. I’m not kidding when I say that my life could seriously be made into a sitcom or a really f’d up reality show.

I know you’re still wondering how all of this plays in with Christmas Vacation. Some of you have undoubtedly figured it out but for those who are still scratching their noggins…Christmas vacation hasn’t even started yet! So here I am wondering how the hell I’m going to survive the holiday with a child that thinks he’s a combination of Bill Nye the science guy, Picasso and a fast talking politician. I can only hope that the threat of taking away his gifts will impact him. But knowing my little bundle of terror, it won’t. I swear, I will be lucky if my child doesn’t grow up to be some sort of evil genius. Right now I’m hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst.

So as the threat of Christmas vacation quickly approaches, I will don my riot gear, make sure my vehicle has plenty of fuel (in case a rapid escape is needed) and make a Christmas wish that his grandparents want lots of quality time with him.

C.D. Taylor

12 Days of Crosswords Contest: Clue #2

12 Days of Croswords Contest: Clue #1

Christmas Miracles

Among the many things we are faced with during the holidays, extended business hours of our favorite stores are one of them. Mainly the fact that stores now open on the night of Thanksgiving to ensure that their companies climb from the red to the black as far as sales go. I’ve been that sales girl who hated working those hours. I wanted to be with my family, or catching up on valuable hours of beauty sleep. I supposed I don’t agree with the early hours 100% but I wanted to tell my story this year to shed some light on why I chose to brave the crowds and endure a 12 hour shopping trip. That’s right, I said 12 hours! Grueling and tiring would only be a couple words to describe what I decided to throw myself in to this year. Why would I do something so damn ludicrous? Why would I put my already beaten down body through the task of so much walking, pushing and lugging around shopping bags? First of all, I’m not that much of a sadist. Sure I love a great deal, but this year there was a different reason I braved the storm and put myself into the thick of things.

Each year I sit back and I see how blessed I really am. I have a home, a family, and all the material possessions a person could really want. Hell, I have things that I don’t even know I have! How wasteful is that?! I thought about it and wondered what I could do to share my blessings with someone who needed it? How could I make a difference? Like a Christmas miracle things fell into place. It wasn’t a coincidence that I happened to know the administrator of a children’s home in my area. No, it was fate. Fate that told me it was time to stop being so dang selfish and pay things forward. So I did. I contacted my friend and asked what I could do to help. I asked if there were any children that needed gifts for Christmas this year. It just so happened that there were 2 who were in need. One was a 9 year old little boy who is in foster care, and the other was a 16 year old girl who lives in a residential care facility. Neither one of these children have a family or a permanent place to call home. Now, don’t stop reading and think this is some bleeding heart story where I want you to donate every penny of your Starbucks allowance to a cause like this. But I won’t stop you from doing so if you so wish. Here’s the reason I decided to help these kids…I was one of them. I was that child looking for someone to love me. To hold me close and tell me that everything would be alright each night. For someone to look under my bed and let me know that the monsters were gone. Yeah that was me. A blue eyed, chubby, blonde haired kid with hope in my heart. I got the miracle I was searching for. A family. But not just any family. I got a family that most only dream of. A mom, dad, brother and sister. A family that found it in their hearts to give me a chance and show me what love was. I take that love with me everywhere I go to this day. But back to my original story before I cry so hard that my keyboard needs a sponge.

I had the choice between the girl and the boy. I chose the girl…but once I told my husband about the choice I’d made he informed me that we weren’t going to choose and the boy would also be getting his gifts from us this year. My heart filled with even more love for my significant other at that moment. He’s a great guy, but let’s face it, men can be asses sometimes. Once the decision was made I dove into trying to fill the lists of these kids. When I trekked out during the night of Thanksgiving I had the goal in mind that I would finish the lists and have everything ready to go. I didn’t disappoint myself either. As stressful as that sort of shopping experience was, I found so much joy in the reason why I was doing it. I wasn’t doing any of it for my own selfish gain. I wouldn’t get to see the faces of the kids when they opened the gifts. I wouldn’t hear them tell me how much they loved them, but it didn’t matter to me. What did matter was that I was taking steps to help someone have a brighter holiday. I had some much needed help too. My sister in law was gracious enough to help me decide what a 16 year old girl would want…I have a boy so picking out girl things was beyond my realm of understanding. We worked together to find some amazing bargains. I really wish I could see her face when she opens the 25 wrapped packages from my family. I have no doubt in my mind that she will be floored that someone took the time to pick out fantastic items for her. As for the boy, he was easier of course. But the main thing he wanted was a bicycle. I know what you’re thinking…”surely you didn’t go get a bike for a kid you don’t even know!” Well I sure as shit did!!! He will wake up to a brand new BMX bike on Christmas morning along with a bunch of other things.

Like I said before I found joy in helping out. I think it was meant for me to do this, not to put a smile on their faces, but to teach me that Christmas really is about miracles. It’s about showing love to those who need it most.

When I was a kid I could think of nothing else but running down the stairs and finding loads of gifts for me to tear into. As I get older, I find that my greatest happiness is having my family beside of me on Christmas morning. I don’t know how many holidays I will have with them, but I’m grateful for just one more.

This year I’d like everyone to take a step back. Think about what’s truly important in your lives. Is it that laptop or iPad you wanted? Is it that huge meal that you’ve planned out so meticulously? Or maybe is it just that small miracle that you’ve been given that allows your family to be around you during the holidays.

Each person has their own beliefs and meanings to the holidays. We observe so many religions and express beliefs in different ways. But I wanted to tell you from my family to yours, Merry Christmas. Miracles can happen…if you just believe.

C.D. Taylor

Left To Chance-First Chapter

Left to Chance

(The Chances Are Series, Book 2)

By: C.D. Taylor

Copyright 2014 C.D. Taylor

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Greg Simanson

Edited by Joanna Jensen

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

ISBN:  To be provided

DISCOUNTS OR CUSTOMIZED EDITIONS MAY BE AVAILABLE FOR EDUCATIONAL AND OTHER GROUPS BASED ON BULK PURCHASE.

For further information please contact info@booktrope.com

Library of Congress Control Number:  To be provided

To my beautiful Bombshells: I have never met a more amazing group of people. You make me laugh each and every day with your pics of sexy men and naughty memes. Thank you for being an inspiration and the best cheering section an author could ask for. Long live my naughty Bombshells!

∞One∞

If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be right where I was, I  would’ve told them they’d lost their mind. But there I sat, draped in a dress I’d never wear again, sipping champagne I wouldn’t normally drink, and watching my closest friends dance together on their wedding day. I felt like an outsider. Like I was looking in on something that wasn’t real. Sure, I could admire the beauty of it, who couldn’t? But my opinion of love and relationships wasn’t one that fit the norm. Did I believe in “happily ever after”? Not really. Who could be happy with one person for the rest of their natural life? I had an inkling of what love is; I love my mom and my cat. But to experience a deep love, an all-consuming love? Nah, it wasn’t for me. I would have to be the person with my face plastered to the window, admiring love like that from afar. There was no room in my life for something like that.

I didn’t doubt that Jake and Emily loved each other. You could see it with each look that passed between them, the small touches they snuck when they thought no one was looking, and the air that surrounded them like a fluffy cloak of happiness. Sometimes it made me want to gag. But I  agreed to support them in the ways they asked. And today it was the duty of Maid of Honor. It wasn’t the ideal way to spend my weekend; traveling to Texas and watching my friends tie the knot. But friendship will cause you to concede to things you despise and be there for those who need you most.

I tore my gaze from the overly happy couple spinning gracefully around the dance floor and stared into the bubbly liquid taking up residence in my fluted glass. The condensation streamed down the sides like it was weeping tears of joy for the momentous occasion. Even the glass was more thrilled than I to be there. I spun the stem around in my fingers, wiping some of the liquid off as I went.

As I sat alone at the white linen covered table, my skeptical admiration of everything around me was soon interrupted. “You look terribly lonely sitting here, Eliza.” Jake’s mom sat down in a chair next to mine.

“Oh, just taking everything in. It’s all so magical,” I said in a pessimistic tone. “How are you doing?” She looked a bit melancholy.

“Oh I suppose I’m alright. A little sad, but I think I’ll survive.”

“I’m hoping that it’s a happy kind of sad?” I watched her dab her eyes with a tissue that she’d pulled from her small purse.

“Of course it is. You’ll understand when you have children of your own. We’re sad to see them spread their wings and fly, but want them to have all the happiness in the world.” She patted my hand. “Well I’d better go dance with my son before they head out for the night. You take care, young lady.”

               I’m sure she had a valid point, but for reasons I wasn’t willing to discuss, I wouldn’t have the pleasure of sharing that experience in the future. By the looks of my life, I would be spending it alone. And I’d become comfortable with that fact. Finding my “one in a billion” wasn’t high on my list of priorities. It was a pain in the ass just to try and date. Every time I tried to jump into the dating pool, I ended up needing a flotation device or wanting to drown the person swimming alongside me. There came a time in a relationship when you were expected to reveal all of your secrets. That was the point when I jumped ship. I had too many things I hid that would’ve scared the pants off the most frightening of monsters. So I waited until the time came and gave the whole “It isn’t you, it’s me” spiel and watched as each prospective relationship headed down the drain. Admitting my insecurities to anyone would’ve been the cue for them to run like their pants were on fire, anyway.  No one in this world is perfect and I wasn’t stupid enough to think so. But men want perfection; they want that sweet little woman who wears an apron and slaves over a hot stove while hoisting a screaming baby on her hip. That wasn’t me. I don’t cook; I believe aprons are a fashion best left in the fifties, and the baby thing? Well that’s an area I didn’t talk about.

The lot of it took a toll on my self-confidence and left me wondering if I had some sort of defect that caused me to be so damn insecure about myself. It was either my insecurities or the fact that the majority of the male population was extreme assholes. My case in point: the almighty player himself that I’d had the unfortunate pleasure of being escorted down the aisle by – Gabe Ellingsworth.

The guy was such a douche bag. He lived his pathetic life not giving a shit about anyone but himself. He was the spoiled rich boy with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth who expected everyone to bow down to his prominence. The man held his nose up so far that if it became a torrential downpour in the next five minutes, I was sure I’d be watching him gasp for air. Worst of all was the widely-known fact that he used women like we were just another play toy in his life of discards.

He never hung on to a woman longer than it took to screw her brains out and send her packing. As long as I’d known him, that was his pattern. Gabe left a riptide of panties in his wake wherever he went, and if my suspicions were correct he would find a panty dropper at this wedding, just like he did at every event.

It infuriated me when I’d meet people who do nothing but “take,” never deciding it was right to start giving back. That kind of people hurt so many others in the process. Gabe was their poster child.  I tolerated him only because he’s Jake’s best friend, but the man had burned me. I was at the point where I would’ve rather poured gas on him if he was on fire than find water to smother the flames.

He wasn’t the ideal person in my mind to escort me, but this was Jake and Emily’s day, so I sucked up my hatred for a few hours. Ah, the things we do for the people we care about. W hen Emily and I had become good friends, I felt like I finally had someone to talk to. I’d been pretty much on my own since moving to New York and it was nice to know I had a shoulder to cry on. I would do anything for her.

Now that the ceremony was over, I didn’t know what to do with myself. The reception was in full swing and even though I didn’t care to be there, I couldn’t take my eyes off Jake and Emily. I started to feel envy creep up on me. I  don’t become envious of people. I don’t much care what they do. But something about them caused a small spark to ignite inside of me.

Emily loves Jake with such intensity. The way she speaks about him, the way she looks at him, is something to behold. Their wedding day was no different; the image of them together made me burn inside. I wanted that.  I wanted to feel my skin on fire with love and passion, but the pickings were slim. Not to mention my disdaining opinions for relationships.

“May I have this dance?” I heard a familiar voice behind me, interrupting my thoughts.

I turned to find Gabe standing there. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, I deserve that. But seriously Eliza, are you going to hold this shit over my head forever?”

“Probably so, that’s just the way I am I suppose,” I spat out flatly.

“Well that sucks,” he said almost under his breath.

“You have no respect for anyone, especially if she has a set of tits and a vagina, so go find someone else to bother.”

“That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

“Life isn’t fair, get over it.”

“I would rather not have your emotional tirades thrown at me during my best friend’s wedding.”

“Big words from such a pea brain. I’ve nothing more to say to you, so like I said before…Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

“Fine, whatever,” he huffed while walking away.

He just didn’t see it. He wanted to place blame on everyone else but himself. Most of the time I figured he’d been giving me shit just to mess with me. But it all came to a head when he decided to try to get in my pants at a baseball game, of all places. Who even does that? Gabe—that’s who. The man was lacking the tact it took to have an intelligent and meaningful conversation with someone of the opposite sex. His form of romance was asking a girl to take her panties off before fucking her silly. I was fully aware there were plenty of men like him out there, but at least the rest of them weren’t shoved in my face several times a week.

I curbed my anger once I saw Emily approaching in her gorgeous gown. “Hey, what are you doing all by yourself over here?” She sat down.

“Just trying to stay out of the way.”

“Is everything alright? You look pissed.”

“I’m fine. I’m trying not to scratch Gabe’s eyes out.”

Emily let out a laugh. “You wouldn’t be the first woman who wanted to do that.”

“He’s such a prick; he thinks he’s entitled to whatever he wants just because his wallet is a little fatter than most people’s. Not to mention, he uses women more than most humans use Kleenexes.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Gabe is, well…Gabe. I’ve known him since college and that’s how he’s always been.” Emily tried to soothe my frustration with her gentle words.

“He needs to grow up,” I said a little too loudly.

“I agree whole-heartedly with you on that, but that’s not for us to make him do, you know?”

“Yeah I get it. I just wish someone would knock some sense into him. But on the other hand, I don’t know of anything strong enough to fix that kind of stupid.”

“Someone will someday. Something epic will happen in his life that will make him see the error of his ways. When that happens, Gabe will have no choice but to grow up. It will happen, it always does.” Emily winked.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But enough about captain douche bag, I have a question for you.”

“Okay?” Emily raised one perfectly arched brow in curiosity.

“It’s your wedding day and you aren’t drinking. You didn’t even have champagne when Jake made his toast. What gives?”

“Um, yeah about that.” Emily rubbed her belly.

“Oh. My. God. You’re pregnant?”

She smiled and her cheeks turned a slight tinge of pink. “Yes.”

I threw my arms around her gently. “Holy shit. Congratulations. Does Jake know?”

“I told him after we came back down the aisle.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

“Of course he is; he’s over the moon at the idea. I mean, we wanted to start a family eventually–yeah it’s really soon–but I love him and he loves me, so we’re excited.” She beamed.

“I’m so happy for you, this is amazing.” I felt tears sting my eyes.

“No crying. This is a happy day, so as the queen of the day I order you to get off your ass and go dance—or drink.”

She was right, this was a happy day; I needed to get past the fact that Gabe was an ass and have some fun. “You’re right. Here I go.” I steadied my resolve and headed for the bar. I wasn’t going to let the small stuff get in the way of me having a great time. It didn’t matter how much I despised anyone at this event, I would put on a happy face and party like I was supposed to.

When I got to the bar I ordered a Jack and Coke–my drink of choice.

“Pretty strong drink for a little thing like you.” I could hear the grating voice of my nemesis once again.

“What’s it to you?”

He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Whoa, look Eliza, I’m sorry, can we please call a truce for today?”

“Fine, you’re right, it isn’t right to be fighting like a bag of cats at our best friends’ wedding.” He was right; I couldn’t be showing my ass all day. It wasn’t fair to Jake and Emily.

“Bag of cats?” He chuckled.

“The making fun of me begins?” I knew he couldn’t be nice for too long. I rolled my eyes and looked into the dark liquid fizzing around in my glass.

“I wasn’t making fun of you, it was funny, and that’s all.” The devil shot me his signature charming grin that made panties burn off his victims like they were made of the most flammable paper.

“We tend to say goofy stuff like that where I’m from.”

“And where is that?” He stared at me with curiosity. Why did he want to know where I’m from?

“Atlanta.” I tried to state it with as much pride as I could.  I love my home state of Georgia – the Southern charm, the sweet tea and, of course, the history of it all. New York is great but Georgia will always be on my mind.

“Huh, I didn’t know you were from the dirty south…”

“More jokes?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Can we start over?”

“Sure.” I eyed him skeptically.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked gentlemanly, putting me on high alert.

Against my better judgment I agreed. “Alright, why not.” I threw back the rest of my drink and slammed the small tumbler on the bar. The remaining ice cubes swirled around the inside of the glass, sounding like wind chimes rustling in a slight breeze.

Gabe took my hand in his and I felt as if a static shock moved through my body, causing a shudder to rack my nerves. It was like everything came to life, waking from a deep slumber. I quickly pulled my hand back and stared down at it, wondering what the hell had just happened.

“What’s wrong?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, nothing.” I shrugged it off. Must’ve been the lack of humidity, or possibly I’d been shuffling my feet enough to cause static to build up.

I gently placed my hand back in his and the same thing happened once more. What the hell was going on? I’d experienced some major weirdness lately, but this phenomenon took the cake. I again shook it off as some sort of environmental oddity. But something was still bothering me. Why did I feel strange around him all of a sudden? Why did breathing become harder and my steps feel like each one I took was reaching miles instead of mere inches? I must’ve been drunk already. That had to be the explanation of the strange occurrences happening unexpectedly.

Once we were on the dance floor, Gabe pulled me securely to his chest. A collision of sensations started to overtake me and my body felt like it might explode with feelings I hadn’t felt before. My first instinct was to haul ass away from the unknown, but I’d always kept my word. I told him I’d dance with him, and I was planning on doing just that. During the first few notes of the song, I found myself lifting my face closer to him to breathe in his scent. He smelled of expensive cologne and sexy male. He was sublimely intoxicating, which caused me to tremble from the roots of my fiery red hair to the tips of my bright pink pedicure.

“Are you sniffing me?” He interrupted my olfactory observations.

I could feel heat crawl up my face and knew my pale, lightly freckled cheeks were stained with my embarrassment. “I’m sorry… It’s your cologne, it smells really good.”

“Thanks, you smell good too.” He smiled and took in a shuddering breath of his own, making me tremble more. It wasn’t a huge compliment, but it was a compliment all the same – which were few and far between from someone like him. I’d take it as a win. I noticed his eyes taking inventory of every inch of me as we began to glide in sync around the dance floor. His gaze would drop to the low V in the neckline of my dress that showed a little more cleavage than I’m used to. Then they would come back up to survey my face like an artist memorizing each line for his next work of art. Our eyes locked unexpectedly and my gaze was ensnared in his like a fly caught in a spider web, waiting to be devoured. In those fleeting moments I looked at him for the first time, I mean really looked at him. His eyes are the color of a Caribbean ocean, so blue and deep they make you wish for time just to stare into them and lose yourself. His light brown hair was a bit shaggy but had an edge to it with the way he haphazardly spiked the long top. I had to admit that he is easy on the eyes. No wonder he had zero issues getting women to swoon after him. He could’ve been a Calvin Klein model if he wanted to; he just has that raw sex appeal surrounding him. But through the sexual power he portrayed, I could still tell he had secrets. We all do. But there was something dangerous about him that I couldn’t quite figure out. It scared me that for the first time I wasn’t seeing “Gabe the player,” I was actually looking into the eyes of “Gabe the man.”

I shook myself out of my careening mental observations and went back to focusing on the things I despised about him. I didn’t want to know the real him, if there even was a real Gabe. He was just another dick with a huge bank account.  The man had too much history of shit that I didn’t need to be a part of. If I were a smart person, I would slap on my running sneakers and hightail it the hell away from him. I couldn’t let myself get caught up with someone like him. Men like him threw women like me to the curb after they’d gotten what they wanted. I would just become another notch on his over-priced bed post. As it was, his bedpost probably had so many notches it looked like an intricately-carved totem pole.

“Something wrong?” He asked because my feet stopped moving.

“No I’m fine, I need a break.” I pulled away and tried to gulp in some fresh air. The oxygen we were sharing while dancing was starting to suffocate me.

“We just started dancing.” He pulled me back to him, his heat enveloping every part of me, making me feel like I’d been sunburned to the depths of my soul. Holy shit, I was turned on. What a reaction to have for someone I loathed with every fiber of my being. Of all the people I could have that reaction to, it had to be him. I was in some sort of hell or alternate universe.

“Gabe, this isn’t a good idea.” I felt so uncomfortable. I wanted to crawl right out of my skin and find a safe hiding place. He was hazardous, not only to my body but to my heart if I wasn’t careful. Getting mystified by his signature charm would blow me away if I continued to let him create this spell over me.

He reached up and brushed a hair from my face that’d fallen loose from my up-do. His almost nothing action threw my body into a tailspin instantaneously. “I know. Just dance with me, please?”

I couldn’t help but give in. He’d woven some sort of voodoo on me and I was impossibly weak against his magnetism. The devil was the same way, looking all innocent. But if you stuck around long enough he’d strike, and you’d be left trying to pick up the pieces. I wasn’t strong enough to fight it, though , so I continued to dance with him. One song, I told myself. “Okay,” I whispered as I looked up into his eyes. His lips quirked into a sultry half-smile, showing a tiny dimple in his left cheek.

Maybe there was more to this man than what was on the outside. Maybe I was only seeing the jerk Gabe wanted everyone to see. Surely he was more complex than just a guy who screwed for fun and partied until the wee morning hours on weekdays. I was having the most difficult battle raging inside of me. Get away, or stay and chance throwing myself all over him?

Relief hit me once the last few notes of the song came to a close. “I think I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?” I offered.

“No thanks.”

I left him on the dance floor and went back to the bar. His scent clung to me, beseeching my body to run back to the man who would only crush me if I dared to play his little game. And that’s all it was to him. A game he’d designed that proclaimed a just single winner in the end –  himself.

I ordered another Jack and Coke and started sipping it while mulling over the enigma of a man who was now dancing with the bride. The bartender looked across the long wooden surface my elbows were perched on and I guess he could tell there was something wrong. I’d always been the kind of person who wore my feelings all over my face.

“You okay, Miss?” The bartender asked.

“Just fine, besides the fact that I’m not nearly drunk enough.” I let out a heavy sigh and pushed a few falling tendrils of hair behind my ear.

He reached under the bar and pulled out an unopened bottle of tequila, holding it up like it was a huge prize on The Price is Right. “Well then, let’s see what we can do about that, shall we? This little beauty will help you forget all of your troubles – guaranteed.”

I grinned evilly. “Bring it on.” Hell, I was at a party for Pete’s sake. I may as well have some fun.

He lined up several shot glasses and poured the shimmering liquid in them one by one–some so full the alcohol sloshed out on the bar. “Here’s the game: After you take a shot, you have to say something about yourself that no one knows,” he joked.

“Sounds fun.” Not really. It sounded like a hangover from hell and a bad taste in my mouth. But why not? I’d been buttoned up Eliza for too long, and it was time to let my hair down and have a bit of fun.

He placed a bowl of fresh lime wedges on the bar top along with a salt shaker. He then pushed a shot toward me and chuckled. “Bottoms up.”

I threw back the first one and it burned like hell all the way down. My throat felt as if it might catch on fire if I took too deep of a breath. Okay, so I wasn’t nearly soused enough to do tequila shots, but his little game seemed rather intriguing.

I spilled my first secret. “I have a major crush on Brad Pitt!” I yelled while thumping the shot glass back on the bar.

Everyone at the bar started laughing hysterically. I took another shot. “I have a Backstreet Boys poster on my bedroom wall!” They continued to laugh uproariously at my antics. I couldn’t help but cackle along. This truly was humiliating, but fun at the same time.

By the ninth shot, I was feeling no pain whatsoever. My inhibitions were completely gone and I was pretty sure I couldn’t feel my face–or if I even still had a face, for that matter. I grabbed what I think was the tenth shot. My reaction time was delayed and it was like seeing everything happening in slow motion as I raised the small glass to my numb lips.

A warm hand touched my shoulder, so I turned to see who it was. Gabe was standing there with a concerned look on his face. I tossed down the shot, which tasted like pure water at that point. The small crowd I’d drawn was waiting anxiously for my next secret. I swallowed the liquid and shouted out my final secret before my brain could override my mouth.

“I’m a virgin!”.

10 Tips To Help You Put Your Best Face Forward

Okay let’s be honest for a second. You’ve heard the saying “Put your best foot forward”, right? Well what about the saying “put your best face forward”? I’m guessing you haven’t. What does it mean exactly? It means what it says, put your best face forward. So how are we to put that face forward when with each year we become older, we have certain things that happen to our faces? You know exactly what I’m talking about don’t you? Those small lines that have morphed into the grand canyon on your forehead. Those unsightly crow’s feet that decorate the outside of your eyes. And let us not forget the dark areas that seem to pop up like a jack in the box all on your face. Get the picture yet? So how do we prevent these things from happening? It’s impossible right? Unfortunately there are so many environmental factors floating around the atmosphere, it’s hard to stave off the aging process. We aren’t miracle workers! If we were, we’d wave our sparkly wand and give ourselves the most smooth, flawless skin we could, right? I know I would. Here’s the thing, I just turned 34. Yikes! I know plenty of women my age that look way older than 34, but there is a damn good reason for it. They didn’t take care of their skin! Sometimes I want to grab people by the neck and shake the daylights out of them for not doing so. But I won’t because I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. But on a positive note, I did start taking care of my skin at a very young age. What am I left with now? A face that looks like it could pass for that of someone 10 years younger than I actually am. No joke here, I get carded all of the time and people are shocked to find out my real age. Go me! So what can you do to get your skin on the right track again? Stick with me and I will show you the path to putting your best face forward! Keep in mind that change doesn’t happen overnight, you have to work at it to see results. But I have every faith that you can do this! So follow my 10 super simple makeup and skin tips to get your best face forward!

Disclaimer: I am in no way professionally endorsing the products listed below. These are item I personally use and in no way am being compensated for speaking about them.

        

Clean your makeup brushes regularly: I cannot stress this enough! You know that funky sponge you use to wash the dirty dishes in the sink? The one that starts smelling rancid eventually? Well here’s the thing, it has bacteria growing inside of it! Gross huh? Your dirty makeup brushes are basically the same thing. You glide them across your face every day where they collect dead skin cells, makeup residue and god knows what else. Once you brush that nastiness against your skin, you’ve just turned your face into a petri dish. That bacteria will sit there and find its way into your pores, where eventually it will create our sworn enemy…pimples. Have I grossed you out enough? I thought so. How do you prevent that crazy breakout that makes you feel like you’ve hit puberty again? Simple clean your brushes. A good rule of thumb that I go by is for every three times I use them, I clean them. I work from home so I don’t get the opportunity to wear makeup too often. But I make sure that my brushes are clean and sanitized regularly. I like to use a basic antibacterial hand soap. Just scrub the bristles and let them air dry. You can also sanitize them further by keeping rubbing alcohol in a small spray bottle and mist them as they are air drying.

Quench your skin: We all know how we feel when we don’t get something to drink right? (and I don’t mean adult beverages) We feel run down, tired and just plain yucky. Well my friend, your face feels the same way when you don’t give it a drink. And by drink I mean moisturizer. I know what you’re thinking…”But moisturizer makes my skin so oily.” Then you’re using the wrong type of moisturizer for your skin type. If you have oily skin to begin with, isn’t it total nonsense to slap on something that’s thick, creamy and heavy? Yes, yes it does. Read the labels, find the one that is designed for your skin type and I promise you, you’ll be singing the praises soon. Also here’s a bit of information you may not know. When you cleanse your face, you’re pulling all of the natural oils off of it. Your skin freaks out and starts producing an abundance of oil to compensate. In the end you’re left looking like someone rubbed a fried chicken leg all over your face and pimples out the wazoo. Not fun. By cleansing and applying moisturizer, you’re putting a halt to a face freak-out and balancing your skin to where it should be.



Scrub scrub scrub: Okay maybe not that much. Each day your skin rids itself of dead skin cells. Where do they all go? You’d think that they’d fall off and you’d have a DNA trail behind you, but that’s just not true. Yes, some do fall right off, but most lay on your face. They cling to the oils that are produced and sometimes get into your pores, creating a nasty mess. How can you help this? Simple. Exfoliate your face. I like to exfoliate at least 2 times per week. Don’t overdo it though, you’ll be left with what feels like chapped lips…all over your face. Find a fine grit, gentle product to do the job. The fine grit will get deep down under the dead cells and lift them away. Another tip, be sure and use your fingers when scrubbing. You have more control over how deep you scrub.



Use sunscreen: It’s not just for the beach anymore! Sun damage is the leading cause of premature skin again. The UVA (ultra violet aging) rays actually change the DNA structure of your skin. We don’t want this! We want to protect it the best we can by applying at least a 15spf sunscreen under our foundation. If you’re lucky enough to find a foundation with sunscreen in it, well, that’s even better! Invest in your skins future by giving it the protection it needs. You wouldn’t walk outside on a stormy day naked would you? Your face feels the same way.


Time for a color change: I know you’ve seen that woman walking around in the winter time and her face is 3 shades darker than the rest of her body. I know why. She continues to wear the same foundation color that matched her perfectly in the summer. As the fall and winter months approach, our nice pretty tan begins to fade. What should you do? You should lighten up your foundation to match your winter skin color. I have 2 shades of foundation that I keep on hand. One is my darker summer color, and the other is my pasty white winter color. Sure it costs a little extra to have 2 different shades on hand, but it’s a small price to pay to keep from getting made fun of for looking like you are auditioning for the cast of Jersey Shore.



Bronzer is your buddy: Yes there are those who go overboard and to them I say “get a grip”. Bronzer can be intimidating at first. But if you know how to properly use it, it will quickly become your favorite makeup accessory. I’m referring to the pressed compact bronzer, not the spray tan in a can. In fact, I use bronzer on my cheeks instead of blush. I like the neutral tone it gives, while adding some depth to my cheek bones. Now, keep in mind that this stuff is powerful, a little dab will do ya. Start with just a little dusted on the apples of your cheeks to see how dark you really want to go. Then swipe upward toward your cheek bones to blend the color. Quick tip, bronzer is also great if you feel like your foundation is just a bit too light. Dust it on lightly before applying your face powder and it will blend with the powder, making your foundation seem just a little darker.



Not my eyes!: Raise your hand if you’re still using soap to remove your eye makeup? I thought so. If you didn’t know, eye makeup is denser than anything you’ll put on your face. The eyeliners, shadows and mascara are meant to be thicker so they will stay put. Each time you scrub the hell out of your eyes with soap, it causes damage to the delicate tissues that surround the eye. You can pop blood vessels, cause irreversible skin destruction and let’s not forget the chance of getting soap in your eyes. Ouch! Choose a good eye makeup remover for the job. It’s designed just for that area of the face. It’s not harsh, and most will take that stubborn gunk off your face with just a few swipes of a cotton ball. The good thing about it also is that it can take off long wearing lipstick in a flash!



You can do what?: This is my all-time favorite trick! Everyone has black eyeliner in their makeup arsenal right? But there are days when you’re feeling bold and want some funky eyeliner color. Maybe you’d like cobalt blue, or lavender? Oh but I don’t want to buy those colors because the chances of me wearing them a lot are slim to none. But I have a tip that will save you the money and make you say ‘whoa’. First thing you’ll want to do is to go ahead and apply that black eyeliner, chill out I’m not finished just yet. Say you’re feeling froggy and want some green liner today. Easy peasy! Grab a small makeup brush and pull out that green eye shadow that’s been tucked away for quite some time. Use the brush to apply the shadow directly to the black eyeliner! The liner will grab ahold of the shadow like a magnet. You’ve just customized your eyeliner in a jiffy! Be creative with this one, try different colors to jazz it up. Your friends will be asking you ‘how’d you do that?’ My all-time favorite is to use my metallic gold shadow, it makes for an awesome effect and causes my ice blue eyes to pop.



Lip gloss is your friend: For the longest time I despised lip gloss. It was thick and nasty. My lips stuck together when I tried to talk while wearing it, and forget having my long hair down on a slightly windy day, it would stick to my lips like a fly in a trap. But I’ve finally discovered a gloss that is comfortable to wear and smells good too! It’s actually from Bath and Body Works. It comes in all shades, and is around 6$ a tube. It’s amazing! Be sure to tell Santa you’d like some in your stocking this Christmas. But find what’s out there, experiment with different brands, see what you’re comfortable wearing. I never leave home without lip gloss on. Somehow I feel so much better when my lips are shiny and moisturized.



Hey red: And finally, the last helpful tip. Don’t be frightened of bright lipstick colors! They aren’t just for elderly ladies and women of the night anymore ya know. I have an addiction to my bright red shade of lip color. For one thing, I look good in it, and the other is that it makes my teeth look whiter. Yes, that’s right! The brighter the lipstick color, the whiter your teeth look in contrast to it. If you don’t want to bother with the expensive white strips, or heading to the dentist to get your grin bleached. Just apply a bright shade of lip stick and see what happens. I promise you that your friends will be asking for the name of your dentist.I hope you find some of these tips helpful. The product pictures are of items that I actually have in my beauty arsenal too. So keep your head up and put your best face forward no matter what!!!
C.D. Taylor 

10 Simple DIY Adult Costumes

It’s that time of year again! The time when the leaves are changing colors and falling from the trees faster than we can rake them up. Time when we flock to the stores to stock up on expensive bags of candy and try to find the elusive costumes that our children have been begging us for. Yes, it’s Halloween time!!!

Most of us concentrate on making sure our kids have the perfect costume, but what about us adults? Shouldn’t we be able to have a bit of fun as well? I think we should. Call me a dork, but even at 34 years old, I still dress up every single year. It’s a time where I can be anyone I want to be and not be judged for it…unless it’s a costume contest ;-). So what’s a person to do if they aren’t Martha Stewart but they want a creative, inexpensive and eye-catching ensemble to show off? Of course it’s going to take a little creativity on your part, but I have the utmost faith that you can pull it off. This isn’t rocket science people, it’s just a matter of throwing something together. If you can operate a hot glue gun, and know how to rip a piece of duct tape from the roll, I’m pretty sure you can throw together a costume that will make people take notice.

So in honor of my favorite time of year, I’ve decided to compile a list of some ideas for cool adult costumes. You may have some of the items in your closet, but if not, I suggest visiting your local thrift store for your goods. Those places are a treasure trove of goodies, perfect for a DIY costume. Let’s get started!!!

A Nerd: This is so easy, and I’ve utilized this idea several times. All it takes is some mismatched clothing (High water pants, plaid shirt, funky skirt for the females, crazy socks), then you’ll need to grab a pair of nerdy glasses (don’t worry you can find them pretty much anywhere right now), wrap some tape around the nose of the glasses, tape a “Kick Me” sign to your back and you’re good to go. You’ll be a fantastic Nerd in no time!!!
Cereal Killer: No I didn’t misspell that either. All this costume takes is a few empty boxes of cereal and some plastic knives. Attach the boxes to your clothing (you can safety pin them on) and stick the knives in them. Boom! You’ve just killed all the cereal!
Work of Art: At some point we all think we should have our portrait painted right? Well this is simple. Grab a large picture frame (don’t forget to check the thrift stores) and hang it around your neck. You can also jazz this up by dressing in the fashion as a famous work of art too. The possibilities are endless, Mona Lisa, The girl with the pearl earring…use your imagination and make your art shine!
Bag of Groceries: This is hilarious and easy! All you’ll need is a cardboard box and some brown packing paper (you’ll find it in the packing aisle at your local store). Cover the box with the paper and cut a jagged edge into the top of the paper. Be sure to cut some holes for your arms too or you will be in some trouble. Now here’s the funny part, go dig in the garbage for empty grocery items. T.V. dinner boxes, cereal boxes, candy wrappers…anything will work. Glue the items to the inside of the box so they peek out above the top. Grab a headband, glue an empty egg carton to it and wear it on your head. You’ve just turned your trash into an awesome costume! We can save the environment and impress people, it’s a win-win.
A Lamp: I know you have black pants and a black shirt in your closet so throw those on. Go in the living room and borrow the lamp shade from the lamp. All you have to do is wear that on your head and voila! You’re a lamp! If you really want to light things up with this costume, just tape a flash light in the shade and you’ll not only have a simple costume, you’ll be able to lead your kiddos around safely while they trick or treat this year!
Pile of Laundry: Safety pins are so cheap, and of course you have laundry at home. Just pin pieces of laundry to your clothes and hey, you’re some laundry. If you want to give people a real chuckle, make sure you include some panties where they can see them. Carry around an empty bottle of laundry detergent for an added bonus too!
E-Mail: This is for the guys only. Wear whatever you want and pin a cut out of the letter ‘E’ on your shirt. You’re literally E-Male! People will laugh and compliment you on your creative use of the modern day communication!
Fifty Shades of Grey: Oh yeah I had to! Visit your local hardware store and grab as many of the free paint swatches as you can. Make sure you find the grey ones. Attach them to your clothing and you’ve just embodied the book. Add some handcuffs, and a cable ties for a little added naughty fun.
Bun in the Oven: This is for those expecting their own bun in the oven. Find a cardboard box and some paints. You’ll want to make your box literally look like an oven. Make a cut out in the front so the oven door opens. When your friends open the oven, you’ll really have a bun in there! Throw an apron and oven mitt on your significant other and he will be your chef. I promise you will get some ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ with this one.
Bunch of Grapes: Balloons are so cheap. Blow those babies up and attach them to your clothing like a cluster of grapes. Use construction paper to make your stem and leaves on your head and wow you’ve become some yummy fruit. To make it more humorous, take along a bottle of wine and tell people that you are the before, and the wine is the after.

I really hope I’ve started your creative juices flowing with these simple and inexpensive costume ideas! There are so many more out there, so get cracking people, Halloween is right around the corner. As for me, I have my costume ready to go. What will I be? I thought you’d never ask! This year I am going as Princess Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

Have fun, be safe, and have a very Happy Halloween!!!!

C.D. Taylor

(images courtesy of Google images)