Q&A (and brownies) with J.J. Murray discussion
The Venting Soapbox
Falling on people on the bus or train is on my embarrassing list. It hasn't happened recently though. My last fall on MTA, mentioned in earlier comments, included me and the turnstile. I don't know how to rate my dancing skills, in my family it usually you can whine or not. I can whine.
What's up with separating the "black" romance novels and African-American Lit from the rest of the romance novels and classical literature?! Boarders is going out of business and the Romance novels were 50% off yet the interracial themed ones I wanted was 30%! I also noticed Books-a-million separates the "black books" too from the rest of the sections. I don't know if it's just something they do in a high AA area or not?In the same vein, my local library puts J.J. Murray's books in the African American Authors section....I think it's only based on the face that black women are on the cover, lol.
Yeah I saw JJ's works in the Urban Fiction section myself...saw Can't Get Enough of Your Love next to a novel named Crack Head.Jo: I would like to share for our two-person CBA meeting:
True story: I got home very late from work, exhausted, emotionally drained. I wore a long maxi dress...ankle length today. I was climbing my front steps and stepped on the hem, and plum tore the dress at the waist.
At least it happened while I was alone on our front steps. Jeez! This has got to stop. My momita is sewing it up for me tomorrow. But she shook her head and said, "What are you? Retarded?"
Oh Jo...you got the winin' skill, eh?Me! You! Reggae party! White Plains Road! BX! Saturday! 11 PM!
Challenge!
Be there!
LOL
Oh wait...this isn't 2003, right? I am 33, in 2011, a Christian...Aww forget it. *deflated*.
Vee you don't know about soca gospel. Yes, Yes I wine or whine very well. Also you have one up on me. I love the saying your blues ain't like mine.
This is for Winona, I think an AA section is a good and bad thing. The truth is that Literature and any other genre we can classify as pulp fiction are separated. I have gone to bookstores that don't separate the books and I want one.
Also J.J. I am not 100% sure but don't you live in the VA area. If so send a message when you get a chance.
Everyone is okay out there right? No one got hurt? Jo out in Brooklyn, JJ in VA? Where you live, it wasn't affected as much was it? I didn't go to work today, so I missed having to travel downtown, not that it was all that catastrophic here...more like scary. Anyways, I hope JJ Murray and Family are doing well in Roanoke.I hope you were not downtown JO...but being that you bragging about your winin' skillz, it seems you're doing juuust fine. Soca gospel? Don't like soca much. More like reggae gospel...but not all of it.
I don't know what you mean by "Your blues ain't like mine" (?)
Back to vent...thank God someone thought to create this topic. Writing this will allow me to get it out...Jo, your last comment was right on the money, "your blues ain't like mine..."
But since this discussion has been ultra quiet, lately, I guess I will make an announcement:
"I WAS ATTACKED BY RAMPANT TRANSSEXUALS."
But I will get to that later. My vent is about the fact that it seems I have been having horrible days for no reason these past few days. Has that ever happened to anyone? One thing goes wrong and it begins "THE SERIES;" you all know what I mean...the series of things that begin to fall apart left and right?
Last Friday: The lawyer dude I accidentally flashed my draws to that I posted about? I went out with him. Miserable situation right there. Was late, didn't pick me up as agreed, had an attitude when I meet him anyway, and tries to kiss me after all the foolishness.
Sat-Sun: Dealt with lawyer dude's pesky attempts at apologizing via voicemail and text...and constant calls...oh and a nice Edible Arrangements that my momita enthusiastically tore through.
Monday: Found out we lost my coworker's client I adored (I often covered the boy when she is out). He did it himself last Friday night. Thing is I had a session with him last Thursday afternoon cause coworker was out. Coworker feels bad that she didn't see him. Somehow Supervisor is making it all my fault. Plus, she wants me to submit a bill to insurance for that last appt. Ended up telling off my boss. So I took off a few days because I am stressed about this whole mental health thing. The next morning, I called to apologize telling her I am sorry but was reacting to the loss of this client. She asked me to come in to work. I told her I would not. I needed to take some personal days to "debrief" as in recharge my mental health worker battery before I can think to provide counseling to someone. She said she understood, but to get back at me, even though she initially accepted my apology, she wrote me up for "inappropriate dialogue and gestures toward superior."
But backtrack to Tuesday morning, 2:45 am: Ended up having an argument at McDonald's. I was not sleeping, but trying to since I had not slept in a while. My pregnant friend is on bed rest for the next three months, so she called me to get her a 20 piece chicken mcnuggets (they are on sale) and two large fries and a vanilla shake. Her husband, poor thing, is working two jobs while she is on unpaid leave due to issues with her pregnancy. He was at his overnight job so he couldn't help. I told her I would rather not go to Mickey's because it's clearly not healthy for the baby (and also cause I have been struggling with dieting myself and didn't want to get enticed). "Let me bring you food I cooked today instead." But she starts hemming and hawing, "But Sebastian (baby's future name) is really, really hungry for McDonald's! As his future Godmother, I need you to get him something to eat or neither one of us will fall asleep in this Mutha*****. Right noooooow!"
Guilt trip...and being cursed out...and pregnancy roar.
So I get out of bed, in my jammies (shorts and wifebeater and head scarf and Tasmanian Devil slippers) and make it in twenty minutes to Harlem (Upper Manhattan) from Mt. Vernon (Westchester County) to Mick D's on W.125th and Broadway to purchase "our" future son, Sebastian's, early-morning fast food meal. My friend was calling back to back to get my ETA the whole time, screeching about Sebastian being starved to death. She also tells me she will need lots of ketchup and it has to be the warm McDonald's ketchup packets because she doesn't like cold ketchup on her fries and her bottle is in the fridge and she can't get up to take it out so it can warm up in time for her food... *sigh*
I order, get the food, and ask the cashier broad for ketchup and she tells me she gave me two already. I said to her, "can I please have more ketchup for all this food?" and she says if I want to have more than two ketchups I have to pay an additional $1.50. LOL.
I went off. "McDonald's makes billions a year and now we have to pay for ketchup packets?" I raised a little Cain and finally the girl-woman hands me three handfuls of ketchup packets to shut me up. "You forgot the sweet and sour sauces, sweetheart." I said and waited until I got them.
She wanted to kick my behind, I could tell.
When I get to my friend's brownstone on W. 149th between Amsterdam and Broadway, she does not let me in; she does not answer the door...I call and call, no answer. I bang on the door and realize I left her emergency keys at my house so I can't let myself in. She doesn't get her urgent food because her and Sebastian have fallen asleep because I "took too "mutha*****' long." *sigh* At least that is what she told me the following morning.
That night/morning, I drove home, and ended up eating cold McD's so I would not waste my money or time...while doing my email thing. I sent out like 6 emails since I could not write a word on my novel if you paid me.
Tuesday evening around 9:30pm. Return from evening church service that has left me a little drained to find lawyer dude sitting with MY MOMITA and talking. "Whaaaat?" I ask my mother, the traitor, what is going on in Kreyol/Creole. She shrugs and says back in Kreyol, "Well, okay, you made him pay already. Give him another chance. You keep on like this and you'll be alone for the rest of your life. Besides, he seems alright." Like I'm that desperate! Traitor! But I go to the front steps and chit chat anyway because my mother pursued her lips which meant the fight wasn't worth it. He apologizes for his arrogant, unpleasant, selfish, and pushy behavior from last week. Says he had a horrible day and was taking his anger on his boss out on me with his funky attitude. He said he was spoiling for a fight but that I've intrigued him for putting him in his place. He asks if he can take me out one more time. I decline (remembering someone's advice about how this guy just wants to play with my tender bits). Then he promptly curses me out for having the audacity to reject him. Tells me, "you think you alllll that don't you? You ought to be thanking God I even tried to holla. Had me sittin' up here listening to your moms go on and on for an hour and you acting like this?"
My mother was eavesdropping from behind the door. She opens and says, "You piece of trash. You show up uninvited to our house and I give you a chance to sit and wait for her and you talk like this? Well you can go!"
Lawyer dude stands up and laughs, "Yeah, whatever. *F*** you too" to my mother.
My mother runs and grabs a vase of water (with flowers) while I am yelling at him for cursing at Momita. She is so enraged she throws the water wildly at him...not realizing she is going to drench me too 'cause duh, I am standing right next to him! Now my hair is ruined. "Non! It's f*** you too!" she screams. Still pissed, she yells that I am dripping on her hardwood floors.
"Are y'all still with me? Jo? Good, cause I haven't gotten to today yet...hang in there."
Wednesday around noon: Older church-going gentleman I met while on express bus to work Monday morning calls. Apprehensive after last bad date with lawyer dude and "the aftermath" I speak to him for a while just to give things a fair shake. Besides, my mother is eager to see me married too, so she said I should do it. As we begin making plans to hang, he puts me on hold for a moment. He returns from call waiting, saying, "Sorry that was my wife." I spit out my Pepsi 0 and scream "Say, man, who was that?" Older gentleman tells me that "tehnically," he is still married. Explains he is separated but was ordered into counseling by divorce court with his wife for six months and that she was just calling to confirm that he would make their next appt. LOLOLOLOL Although this is the unfortunate situation, he would still like to have lunch or dinner with me. LOLOLOL And I thought 44 and "Christian" would be more mature... well *shrug* at least he told the truth. After the big news, I decide to pamper myself. Mani-pedi, massage, a little shopping. I go buy shoes to make me feel pretty and see a pair in the window. I rush in and ask to see them, try them on, and put them aside on a chair. Three Latina trannies walk in boppin' like Salt-N-Pepa and Spinderella. They are soooo loud, cursing and fussing, and acting like Bronx hood rats. Minding my business, I start looking at a bag to match the shoes and decide to get it. I walk back over to the shoes and take them out the box to try them both on again to figure out the size. As I walk in the store, the big mamacita says, "Ohhh, those are cute, girl! Work them joints! I'ma get me some of those." Turns out he-she claims to wear size 10 girls (8 boys I guess). The lady tells him that they didn't have size 10. Miss-ter asks me "what size are those, Mami?" I tell one is 8 1/2 (my size) and the other pair is size 9 (I always try to get a half size bigger when wearing five-inch heels or higher and these are six-inch). He says to the girl, "Let me try on the nines."
Salesgirl says, "Sorry, she got the last ones."
So he turns to me, "Mami, let me get those. I want to see if I could wear them."
I look at his dusty, wide feet in his flip flops with the wedged heel and say, "Uh, not a chance. I am not sure if I am getting them yet."
"Why you gotta be like that? Let me just try them on!" It roars, he it's a given that I would let him try on shoes I am about to purchase.
"Why you got to be like dat, dough?" Peppa sucks his teeth.
"No, sorry, I told you I am not sure I am getting the shoes yet and if I do, I don't want your man feet stretching them out. No offense..."
"What? Oh he** no! Who got man feet? Me?" screams "Salt"
His friend, "Please," sucking his teeth, "You wish you look like all this."
Next thing you know, three trannies are up in my face cursing me out. I was everything from "black skanky bi*** to a stank slut to a "fake-a** trick"
and then things got really hectic. I just stood there. I know that he thinks he is female and political-correctness aside, he is not. Many trannies i've known do not hesitate to hit women because they feel it is an equal battle due to their personal views. But it is not.
So, in the end...even though I wanted the shoes, I let them have them. But I was so angry, and tried to pray into to calm. But not today. The pre-op Bebop called me one too many "hoes." Finally, I was like, "Okay you want the shoes. Here!" But I did not hand them over. I hurled the shoes across the store and told the man of (eye) shadows to go fetch them.
After apologizing to the girl for throwing the shoes, I ran out of there before I go even further past my beliefs and grab my club out of my car to finish man-girl's operation for free.
I am having a weird few days, really.
*whew* much better now. Thanks. *wave*
Mod
V ... You have to write all this down and get it published. I'm not kidding. Your last week could be the beginning of a series. You are a "bizarre magnet" or something. Other writers would kill for this stuff, and they'd have to dream it up. You're living it.
"Pre-op Bebop." Classic!
Glad you think it's funny...I am almost afraid to leave my house under these attacks. LOL Can't wait to see what happens today. I just am grateful Momita was not with me in the shoe store. She was supposed to go with me for mani-pedi etc and would have been there if she had. Then we would have gone to jail. My mom would have beat the guy with the shoes. Straight up. I know for a fact because she said, "You gave him the shoes? I would have made him eat those shoes if it was me!" "Yes, Momita, I know. I was weak."
Thanks JJ, real life as fiction...my fiction as trouble.
Hey, I felt that way about your basketball trip stories last year. But your idea? The series? Great idea! Let's all of us write a series! (Hey it was your idea). :-)
Mod
Get out your overshoes/galoshes/boots.
Not dry. Didn't realize it was gonna have Book of Revelations rainstorming today. Drenched wearing white...flashed NYC again today. Have to do at-home counseling sessions with undies showing through wet white. I knew I should not have come into to work out of guilt. How is writing going now, JJ?
"JOOOOOOOOOO! Are you still my friend?"
As I hope everyone will be safe and sound during the impending disaster, especially all you lovely people, I have to wonder:Is everyone in full panic mode?
I wonder. Everyone is boarding up windows, trimming hedges and branches, and moving cars into garages. Every supermarket had lines out the door. I just came back from Stop N Shop in our neighborhood. I have to thank God that the minute we heard "hurricane"..."New York City and Long Island"...and "Saturday" on 1010 wins on Wednesday evening, I headed out to buy our things...got all the food, batteries, candles, cake, flashlights, ice cream, books, magazines, and bubble baths....you know, the essentials. You can't wait 'til the last minute for those situations. Only thing I didn't bring home were packs of bottled water 'cause they were too heavy to carry with all the bags of bath oil and scented candles.
I return this evening and it was a frenzy. Folks were rushing around, yelling at each other, snatching everything. Everyone's cart was overflowing with stuff, and the store was a zoo. Everything was sold out...everything. The "pharmacy" section was completely ransacked as people grabbed and napped bandaids, alcohol, gauze, etc. Folks were actually fighting over packs of bottled water. The Stop N Shop guy actually started opening the remaining packs of water and started pricing them at $1.05 each! The whole pack of 12 bottles is $4.99! And folks were buying them.
I refused.
I went up to a gentleman who was leaving the Stop N Shop, who had like eight 12-packs of Daisani in his cart and asked if I could give him $10 for two packs and he said, "How about $15?"
I shrugged and said thanks anyway but luckily he was joking and he was kind enough to give me two of his 12-packs and carry them to my car. He took the ten bucks and left in a hurry.
It's like Armageddon out there. What I found hilarious was that on my drive home, I noticed that the Jamaicans were still having their "jerk cook-offs" when each of the Mom and Pop shops take over a parking lot of an abandoned store every weekend in the summer; they sell jerk chicken/pork/roast fish and sides and blast island music until wee hours of the morning. It was a real party out there at the Jerk Cook-offs. They had signs up that said "Welcome Irene!" and were chilling and winin' in the parking lots as I drove home. Not a care in the world.
I guess island folks are just used to the hurricanes.
Be safe y'all...
Mod
The book (THE PERFECT GIFT) is nearing completion. At 132,000+ words it better be. Doing some "cosmetics" and "texturing" now. Not sure if I should include this hurricane or not, even in a passing reference ... :~) (for a holiday novel???)
Glad you guys are okay in Roanoke. Other parts of VA look like Atlantis.For the first time in my entire life, NYC is dead. Times Square is empty. We're still waiting in NY to make our full acquaintance of Ms. Irene...the whore. We can hear the skank's footsteps though.
I think I understand "cosmetics" but what does "texturing" mean in relation to your writing?
Mod
"Texturing": keeping tone consistent, revising dialog to reflect character, adding significant details to scenes, deleting anything that isn't absolutely necessary to the plot ...
That makes sense. Thank you, JJ. But this "texturing" thing...how do you figure out what isn't necessary to the plot? I mean, really, how does one figure that out?
Vee, I am always your friend, just not signed on to goodreads. I have been working for 48hrs straight and still on the job. MTA is shut down and I have no relief. I would say more but this is the internet.
Another FYI, I was born and raised in Bklyn; after my migration to ATL, I relocated to Queens.
It should be official you get the 3 feet gold cover trophy for weird. I agree with J.J. if you write out your life experiences, you might be able to start a whole new sub-genre, AA chick lit or something. I also agree with your mom, you should have slapped those trannies with the shoe. Like they never heard of athlete's foot and other evil feet fungi.
The lawyer is unbelievable. Why do idiots feel they should get full rewards with half-a** effort?
In Addition, Vee and other New Yorkers there is this website called New York Writes itself. It is all about New Yorkers writing about New York City which includes all five boroughs. I don't know if it is exclusive for New Yorkers only but I think it is a interesting project.
JOOOOOOOOOOO *smooch on cheek, hip bumps, hugs* Thank God, I was kinda bored, man. Church shut down, no where to go on this beautiful windy Sunday. Type of day when you curl up with your loved ones, watch a movie, and pig out.
Made Irene sound like WWIII on the news, and she was in some places, but she just streaked by our house. She must have heard my mom threaten her about messing up her new yard. Everything fine here. And thank God you're all okay.
Missed your comments, gyal. And Happy B-day (belated!) It just passed right? I would cook you some pepper pot *eww* but don't know where you sit on the throne, Your Highness (as in where in Queens).
But, yeah, Jo, real talk...the trannies would have caught a club to the "nub" if they kept on me. Whenever I can hear my own heart beating in my head, I am about to straight black out. I'm trying hard to live right, too old to be fighting...and too female to fight shemales. Lucky I got out of there still with beliefs in tact. I did hurl the shoes across the store though *ashamed*. Anyway, I went back Friday to get the brand and style... so I can order them from Zappos.com. *Smile* But the salesgirl was there, along with another, and she said the trannies did not even get them! The sluts left right after I did. So the girl put them away for me in case I returned. I got them! I got them! *high-five to self* Love sexy shoes. And the bag to match. I checked and online, they would have cost $195 but I ain't one really to spend that on shoes...*clearing throat*...um, these days with mom's meds and all. So I paid $59.99 YES! Yes! Sales, you got to catch the sales, Jo. Clearance is the name of V's game.And the lawyer, well he got drenched. I had purchased my mom lillies and they were in this tall vase and in her front porch, "her plant room." That is what she used to hurl water at Lawyer dude--and me! Momita's at fault, trying to raffle me off to the highest/most handsome bidder. (Old maid at 33 LOL) I already told her how rude he acted on our date, so why would she let him in? And I had to get my hair done cause she didn't think she would drench me too.
Anyway, my bad week is over. Sometimes we just go through this type of stuff. Day after day. The "Series" of bad days. But you gotta laugh or you'll cry...or at least laugh after the tears. I ain't even get into everything like my drawers being visible after Thursday's thunderstorm. But I do have onnnnnne more venting story for y'all but I was waiting for you to return, Jo. After that I think I'm finished having "bizarre" time, as JJ put it. This latest bizarre event is real yucky, a situation involving my pregnant friend...it's gross. And I still cringe.
I will post after I go cook for the fam. Promised my baked, ORGANIC four-cheese chicken ravioli (with mottz, romano, asiago, and parmesan) and fresh garlic biscuits(from scratch, baby) and grilled asparagus (with lemon-herb seasoning) and brownies (organic box recipe--Annies Home Grown). ("Hey JJ, that's not "island food"). Bro's girlfriend came over with gladware like, "what's good? where da food at, yo?"
Be back later with my nasty-butt friend's story. And I will check out the website, thanks my Carib-sis. How did it feel to turn 25? I am having a 30 + 4 Karaoke party and I hope you come. But you got to sing.
Mod
I only do this step when the book is finished. I know what belongs and what doesn't. If it slows down the narrative or the plot, it has to go.
Hee hee hee hee, of course I will go,just send the address and date. That 4-cheese ravioli could ruin my lifestyle change. I know that you probably did the right thing with the trannies. It is just my vicious nature. In the end you got the shoes, so consider it a blessing. I do think you should title that story which includes the jerk lawyer, "For the love of Sexy Shoes".
I live in Rosedale right next to Nassau county, next actually means it is across the street. Rosedale is split in two, one part was in the mandatory evacuation zone and where I live was just a flood zone. It still had me nervous. My daughter and I text each other almost all night. She was afraid of drowning in her sleep.
Then in the morning, my mom called to let me know that they have no power right now. I am also nervous b/c of the wind. Trees are falling all over the place and our house is bet. two large ones. One in the front and one in the back of the house. I know ppl are thinking the city OD'd on precaution but I don't think so.
Thanks, JJ. Maybe you can teach a class because I still don't get how one knows when then details are slowing the story down. I guess I have to learn the hard way. :-) The HOW of it...
Yeah Jo, I am treating us all for surviving a wack week. My foster boys may be leaving us and I am bummed out and so are they. Someone looked at Bro's car in a parking lot and said, "Let's mash it up!" Of course no note...of course $600 to pay for messed up car, poor thing. Mom lost $200 in the house somewhere. And it is my fault cause I can't find it for her. of course even though I ain't seen that money or can't begin to think of where she left it in a three-floor, six bedroom, three and a half bath house with finished basement, laundry room, large backyard and garage. Silly me.Don't be nervous, Jo, about the weather. You gonna be awright. :-) You and your fam come to Mt. Vernon for a plate. I have wine for you left over from my last event, since I don't drink much. Mom's been taking it to the head though LOL the Lush!
Got Haitian peeps out in "Woes-dell" (Haitian pronunciation of Rosedale", also Jamaica, Cambria Heights, etc. So you guys are still experiencing a flood? Be careful. Sorry your momita doesn't have power. My aunt is in Ossining NY and they have really bad flood and power issues, trees down also...people being rescued and such.
Alright cheesy chicken rav been in oven awhile, biscuits rolled out, cut out...put on cookie sheet, brownies mixed up in pan, crushed pecan and caramel glaze ready too. Brother grilling seasoned asparagus outside on grill...spicy corn on the cob too.
Put Momita down for a nap. She is so durn bossy! She ain't want to cook today but she want to be all in my grill-piece about how I cook. Shadowing my every move, standing at my elbow. "Don't put too much garlic." "Oh this sauce, you don't think it's too salty? I have high blood pressure. You trying to kill me before my time?" "Why you put so much cheese? Put the mozzarella and that is enough." "Why you have to make brownies, with biscuits too? That's why people so big in this country...bread and sweets! You watch you don't get big again too. Look at how tight your pants are on your legs." I was like, "Momita, they are leggings." "So what? You lose weight but make me fat?" and "why you didn't just make rice and beans? All this trouble for what?"
I'm like, "Momita, one more, okay? And I'm out."
Thank God bro was like, "Yo, Moms, leave her alone before she gets mad and throws out the food and leaves like last time she cooked. I asked her to make that for us. You can't make that food so let her be. We want pasta today."
Of course, when my brother, the prince says he wants pasta it's ooookaaaay for us to eat pasta with brownies. LOL Island moms and their boys, maaan.
I walked her into her room and tucked her in. She is so cranky. I will heat her up leftover rice and beans and chicken. *sigh*
The wind is beautiful to me though. Gives me a funny feeling behind the belly ring. I can't quite describe it...it feels like...hugs or something. The air is clean and fresh. Be back...gotta put brownies in and biscuits. Rav is almost done.
So Jo, I need your opinion. About posting one's pic online. But be back shortly.
Since you are Christian, I know your pic won't include a bikini, cowboy boots and whip. you are a sensible adult and professional. I say go for it. I have done it. I had this perfect hair head shot. I was so proud of it. My hair was braided with a beautiful Charlie's angel type of curl to it and it was the right color. Sigh, I miss that style; it was done is ATL and I haven't found a braider who can do my hair like in NYC African or otherwise.
Slightly cautionary tale
I also went a little crazy in the beginning of posting pic and started a pic project of my butt in jeans. It was funny until I started getting salacious emails. I was blocking ppl like crazy; thinking why would someone send me that.
My sister took her picture down and changed her account b/c her students were trying to be her friends. She didn't want that at all.
I changed to flowers b/c, I liked them and I didn't feel like taking a new pic every time I changed my hair style. I don't have to do that but at the time I was weird like that.
My mom and I have made a treaty. When she is in the kitchen, I don't cook. We start to give each other the mean eye. She says I am too slow and I think she keeps messing up my pot.
What is it with Caribbean women and their sons? I mean you should see my mom go out of her way to make smoke herring and lentils for my little brother.
As for the family in Rosedale all is well. The power was out from since 10 in the morning, they just got it back around 9pm.
Glad your fam is okay, really.But Jo LOLOL I ain't even ask the question yet, Ma.
Anyhoo...my pic question wassss whether or not you would help me choose...give me an objective opinion since you don't know me from Eve. See, my family is obsessed with the fact that I am not more internet-oriented. Matter of fact, I was annoyed at seeing myself on Facebook when fam posted pics from my party. Can't stand the amount of Facebook emails I get either that tells me every single thing my "friends" do. I didn't cancel it because my brother insisted I need it. So my cousin begged me to start posting pics of myself, rather than using my fav art pics or whatever. "Why you gotta be a crab, Vadie?"
I did have one once, for about a week. When my bro made my Facebook page and, he posted me. I didn't like "advertising." Like your sister, I also had ex-clients begging to be friends--even though it's unethical. Also had ex-boyfriends left-behind friends, and strange folks trying to connect. But then again there is no escape with a name like "Vacirca." Still, I ain't want to bother so I like to use art that I have or pics I like. Folks I have been corresponding with lately say I am really strange and they insist on getting a look at me as well. But why? LOL. That pic I put of my side profile, showing my painted on "tattoo?" Man, that was unreal the amount of messages I had on this site. Friend requests for what? To discuss novels? Yeah right. Anyway, I am creating a blog now, so I have a place to vent instead of using poor Mr. JJ Murray's group LOL so I was gonna send three to you for an objective opinion since you don't know me from Eve.
But I chose already thanks. Gonna scan it this week I guess.
And I do have pics of me in bikinis...what? I gotta be an old school marm cause I'm saved? Heck no. Shooot. I flash with class, baby. And I also own several pairs of cowboy boots, thank you very much. No whips...but I do have, uh...never mind, that's for future use anyway. But no bikini pics for Goodreads or Facebook or my new blog site which I hope you will check out. Getting the music together and everything to "launch."
But Jo, *clearing throat* say word! Did you try to take pics of your booty? Booty and hairstyles...that's what we're all about LOL.
Yeah, about our island mammies. They can be ridiculous with the criticism in the kitchen. Momita had me cooking since eight years old, but won't release control over the kitchen. And today, I was so annoyed. She complained the whole time I was cooking and I put her down for a nap (LOL) and when I woke her up around 6:30 to eat, I had heated up leftover chicken and a plate of rice with pigeon peas, gravy, etc. She took one look and said, "Why I can't have some pasta like everybody else?"So she ate the durn pasta anyway. My brother was laughing at me. He is right though. I cook a lot, and I try to when she is busy or ain't around to watch my every move, but days like today, she's bored and is all in my face. Last time, I was trying to make a stew/soup we make---boullion has beef (sometimes seafood), plantains, dumplings, watercress, spinach, yuca, and etc. She was stressing me out so much, criticizing everything! I got so annoyed, I dumped it out in the sink and stormed out. She didn't speak to me for two days but that's okay, I had some peace LOL.
My mom grew up growing rice. For her rice is special love, no matter the occasion whatever we cook,steak, pasta, turkey, soup a pot of rice has to be made as well. I also heard that there is some superstition to it as well. But has not yet confirmed.
Thank you for asking my opinion send the pics to my email. I will give a clear unbiased opinion. Also bikini's are fine are you telling me you own a pair of cowboy boots? I try not to judge anyone Heathen or saved Christian.
You know if you write a story based on you and your mom, you can make a mint.
There are so many mommy blog sites; you think it would be fun to start a daughters?
I made a decision many years ago, when my mom is in the kitchen no matter how much she complains for the sanity of our house. I am not stirring a pot. I will set the table, I will wash dishes and sometimes cut onions. She does accuse me,"Ungrateful, you don't help me in the kitchen" I agree whole-hearted, "I am worthless, you should have never planned to have me."
es, cowboy boots are cool. I wear them with frilly skirts mostly. I just bought some blazing sparkly white ones. They were way too pricey I admit. I them wore with shorts and a tank recently to a bbq. They were a hit. Now my peeps are trying to get some. I dress "different" most times, but I've been trying to tone it down. I like feminine looks, though. Lots of young girls walking around NY like they just got out of prison--timberland boots, head scarves, dingy tee shirts. Or they look like they just got out of bed--barely there shorts that look like panties, bra tops, and mangy flips. I like dresses, skirts, shoes, and cowboy boots just to shake it up. Rarely wear sneakers. Even my rain boots have wedge heels LOL. My friend looked and said, "Naw, man, you're serious. You got heels on rain boots? How in the world?" But then she squealed when I got her a pair. She was fussing and fussing about pointlessness but I knew she was jealous...when I got her a pair, she wore them even when it wasn't raining. Just cause. About that pic...it's really not the big deal I made it out to be. Folks are obsessed with all that mess. I am just gonna post one soon as I have it scanned I guess. Maybe... who really cares, right? I don't.
But about our moms---for the Venting Soapbox topic.LOL...yes, Jo! You understand. Sarcasm is the only way to speak their language. But no mommy blog for me...I vent about my mom a lot during the during the day, God bless her, and pray about her every single night. Love her, but she "be gettin' it in." She's a cool person to everyone though... everyone loves her sauciness, especially since she is so small. My friends are like, "I looooove your mom, she is so cute." Until they get on her bad side. Her little self is a hurricane with me though. She doesn't like to be wrong, and doesn't feel there is something her kid can teach her. Pride. She's tough on me, "You represent me, Vacirca, get it together or I will get you together..." She isn't the type to be all lovey-dovey...rarely hugs, all sarcasm. When you hug her, she sucks her teeth, rolls her eyes, "okay, okay..." but she is also the type that if you are sick, she will cook you a week worth of food, clean your apt, watch your kids, and keep you company...without you having to ask. She doesn't tell people she cares with lovey dovey words, "Don't you know I care about you, dammit!" But she will cut someone for messing with her fam/friend.
She is tough. Like the leather belt she swung around to keep us in check. But I'll tell ya, I have a feeling she would, (and has) step in front of a bullet for me. She would curse me out for putting her in that situation, but she would do it in a heartbeat.
That's why she chased my ex-boyfriend with a knife, why she told off my boss when I had surgery and she was calling me about clients--even though I left extensive notes before going on leave. I was on a fourth phone call with my boss, explaining a case to her, all while in severe pain. Momita came to my room and snatched the phone. "Yeeeess, this is Mrs. Vaughn. (She always starts a phone call with "yes" and next word is "listen") Listen, boss, I know she is the Asst Supervisor, but don't call my daughter again. She is off. Off! She just had massive surgery and you calling her with foolish questions. You're too lazy to find out on your own? And they pay you thousands more than her. If you can't handle things without her, then maybe you should retire and let her have your job. She will be back in four weeks. That's it!" (She usually ends directives with 'that's it.') She turned off the phone and smiled. "You rest now."
Boss didn't call me again. And apologized for bothering me so much when I returned. My boss neeeeever apologizes for anything.
It's funny because it's the same reason why she hurled water at the lawyer dude for mouthing off to me. I was mad at getting wet, and was mad she got involved. "Momita, why were you eavesdropping?" And she said, "Who was going to protect you?" LOL she still thinks I need her protection. She is in later 60s, has lung disease--COPD (never smoked) and can barely last a few hours without being tired. I am 33, healthier and better shape than in a long time, and at least 5 inches taller. Yet she still tries to protect me.
So although I go off (in private) sometimes, I remember those things when she is picking at me about sauce and salt. My biggest fear is that I am just like her *gasp "say it ain't so!" Does that happen to you, Jo? You're in a situation and you say or do exactly what your mother would? *sigh*. I cursed my ex out when he said after an argument, "Yo, you're just like your moms. It's hilarious, man. The way your accent kicked up and the way you gestured. It's Mimosa, Junior right here." I was like "@#(U@39u309!"
"I am nothing like my mother!" LOL. No maybe a daughter's blog site. Stories about my mother. Then JJ won't be reading all this and saying, "Uh, Vee, this topic wasn't your therapy session, got it? Your a therapist, I am sure you can find services elsewhere."
Thanks JJ for letting me share. *smile* And after I get around to writing the story about my pregnant friend, I won't snatch your topic anymore. Promise. But later. Off to treat the rapist, two drug addicts with BiPolar D/O (one meth addict, one crack addict), the battered woman, the abusive son who beats his mom who won't put him out, and...*checking schedule on new smart phone*, last but not least, the alcoholic, suicidal teen mom (I diagnose as Major Depression with psychotic features) with three children at 18 mandated by ACS (Administration for Children's Services). Oh joy! Her birthday came around in time to be referred to me for adult services. Yes! All in a day's work. But this one I will watch like a hawk. We're not losing another kid to mental illness.
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We've all read books that interrupted our flow with "slow" parts. "When's the good stuff gonna start happening again?" we think. Introspective interludes, tangents, side trips, and unnecessary (and superfluous) descriptions keep us from our goal of enjoying the book. I know--I've written some books with these distractors in them, most often at the beginning of the book.
One way to check on your pacing (and that's what this is all about, right?) is to add up the pages/words in each of your chapters. If you have a consistent page/word-count in each, you're rolling along. I'm not saying to write, say, 15 pages and stop your chapter. I'm saying that an exceptionally long chapter in between a few short ones might be excessive--unless there's a point to it (an earthquake, for instance).
As I build toward the climax, however, I tend to let things roll. My latest novel ends with 45, 39, and 37 pages in the last three chapters.
I'm also working on "jump-starting" my books with shorter chapters. THE PERFECT GIFT begins with 13 then 6 then a meatier 25-page chapter.
Chef JJ said: "I'm also working on "jump-starting" my books with shorter chapters. THE PERFECT GIFT begins with 13 then 6 then a meatier 25-page chapter."WELL when it comes to your books, I say meatier the better. Hey, I'm no vegetarian. I don't like to starve...I get "enraged" when I am left hungry. "Wait, what are we talking about?"
Oh yes! Your stories are the bomb, wish some of them had not ended or had sequels. So in honor of writing about island girls, I hope it's okay to leave a little meat on her bones. That way we can eat for a little longer. I may not have mentioned this before but: "Can't wait can't wait can't wait!" God, I can't wait to read this work. *sweat*
Oh, and thanks for the advice too. Counting pages in relation to words and consistency...I will take that to heart because we all know some of us can write on and on forevermore. Next you can teach us how to say the most with the least words. LOL. Please? Come on... *punching shoulder*
Back to vent. *Tears* I am a die-hard blues-head. I live for the blues, man. And one of the last original Mississippi Delta blues men have passed on. One of my favorite originals, David "Honeyboy" Edwards, died yesterday...so that's it! *sigh* *playing "Sweet Home Chicago/Dust My Broom"...awww man, some of the best slide guitar playin' and riffin' you eva did heah. *now putting on "My Baby's Gone"* Man check out the sound! You can taste it.
RIP...*sniffle* Just wanted to vent. Have a good day peeps.
Sorry you to read about your idol, Vee. I will like to say that anyone called Honeyboy had to live an interesting life. You said he played the best slide guitar and I believe. He will definitely live on in the music. J.J.
This is about pacing. While writing a chapter I know it went off on a far tangent. However I didn't know where to cut it off to keep the story intact and explain circumstances of the characters?
Going off on tangent is something I am kind of afraid when writing. I distinctly remember throwing a book across my room b/c the flow of the story kept getting interrupted.
Mod
Is this tangent really necessary to the theme/plot/rest of the book?
Is this a tangent you plan to develop further? If it is, it's not a tangent--it's your plot! If it's not, you've created a dead end for the reader ... and your book may fly across the room ...
As I'm writing, I'll go off on a tangent occasionally, find the tangent is better than my original outline, and keep it as plot. Understand? Never be afraid to venture off your outline, but if you lose yourself in the tangent ("What am I doing? Where is this going?"), you know you've lost your reader.
Hey y'all not to interrupt the flow of writerly conversation, but are we still venting in this topic? We are? Oh Goody!Vent: Third day in a row working 8 am to midnight to prepare for office of mental health yearly audit while supervisor goes traipsing back to Martha's friggin' (God, forgive my thoughts) Vineyard for the eighth week in a row. (Since May, she has taken three weeks off, one week on--and during audit season! And she refused my vacation request three times for every single week I asked for during the summer, saying, "But if I am not here, you definitely have to be here...you're my assistant supervisor." I was like, "You are really going to squeeze out every drop of work for that little extra 150 a month, right? Well, here, I'll write y'all a check." I mean, what is that to me? A pair of shoes? *sigh* talkin' mess. It's half of my mom's copay for Advair.
Anyway, Monday, I ask for 1 week to spend time to rest. Been ignoring my foster brothers most of the summer cause of crazy work schedule. A job, mind you, where I am supposed to be doing field work (used to do more sessions in client's homes and making my own appts/hours). But due to administrative work, been chained to the office more and more. She throws my three days off from that client suicide back in my face, even though mental health workers are actually supposed to "debrief" as is in are employee ethics guide so we don't go off the deep end. Then she tells me she needs me here because she has been under stress with "everything." "I've been under stress, and can you believe we've lost clients this year?" (throwing his death in my face again) I ask her calmly for a week off so I can try to salvage a little summer and she says no, even though I have 4 accumulative weeks of vaca time (VNSNY caps off at 6 weeks for our level, 12 for higher ups I think). So I handed her a letter of resignation, meaning it, having already called HR about how much money I have "vested" (whatever that means) and how much I signed up for with my Thrift Savings Plan. Wow...almost half my salary if I want it. So I handed her a letter of resignation and she laughs and says, "Of course you can have time off, Vacirca, it's just that I really need you."
She sent the approval for me to have off starting tomorrow saying, "Okay, I will allow you to take off during audit season, but you must be back, ready to work the following monday." Can you believe that mess? IIIII need to be ready to work? Hmmm. And Haitian slaves were supposed to be free since 1804? Ha! "Give us free!" said that dude in Armistad.
I appreciate having income, I do. I know there are people praying for jobs, and I understand and thank God daily. But I don't think slavery is the same as work. If she and I were here as part of a team busting our humps, okkkkay. But to leave us to do everything and then be selfish when folks about to collapse? Yo check this out, goodreads group, I am straight about to black out in this mug, no cheese. I have had it. If you would like the King's English translation, let me know. Too tired for decorum.
That, and I walked in on my fifteen-year-old cuz, who is staying with us til Sunday evening. Yesterday evening, I walked in on the brat chockin' the chicken while downloading porn on my laptop...at 1:30 am when i returned from this job. Tell me I didn't almost give lil dude a Columbian necktie. Okay, couldn't find a knife, but I slapped him hard on the back of his neck...heavy handed, with the base of my hand...the hard part where your thumb ends and wrist begins. ANd then I puked. I'll kill that boy, I swear it. I am truly meaning that. He has been hell...oh, another story.
I tried not to vent so much this week because I don't want to continue to continue to bore you guys about my problems, but well...thanks.
Back to chart review. *grrrr*
Wow!!! Awkward much. I know that experience will stay with your cuz for a long while. Employers suck. I work per diem. During the Hurricane scare I stayed with the client over 72 hours. They planned to go away but didn't confirm it. So I was basically scheduled to work today. Not because no one is there. I would vent but I blame myself.
Until I can change it. I will manage.
I understand and thanks J.J. for the advice given.
JOOOO. You always understand. Let's write novels, and get rich so we can give these fools the boot.
Anyway, I am resigning from my job. Decided. :-)
I support you in whatever you are doing. Finding a job is another job in itself.
Hope you all are enjoying this wonderful last weekend of the summer! Yes, my favorite season is coming! You are right, Carib Sis Jo. Looking for a job can be a job. So can surviving a miserable job. I ain't got kids and am not my mother's only kid (although she acts as if I am). Now is the time to do what is best for me. I am too young to be old. And too much fun not to have fun. I want to at least like what I do. Respect it. I went to graduate school twice so I could have options. I want to work to live not live to work. When I have my own family to sacrifice for, priorities will shift, although my current situation is a bit of that already. I meant to quit last year, take a lower paying job that was going to be way more of what I love, but my mom needed my help financially and everything. So I stayed and cut more costs by moving back home and figured I should just pay her rent, instead of a landlord, so the extra income will help her medical costs. (I had to call it rent so momita would not have to admit she needed her kid's help LOL) But things at work have been horrendous. And my boss, poor thing, has been too. No offense to anyone, but I don't want to work for "Freethinking, Atheistic, Humanists" as she describes herself ever again. That woman has no conscience. None. If at least she believed that she would come back in another life as a snail and tried to be a good person, I could work with that. But when someone says "I live for me and do what I want, when I want , cause I don't have to answer to anyone least of all some spook in the sky" that's fine...unless you infringe your inherent selfishness upon others because you think that is your right as a human being. That's when I get scared...of people like that and of myself. Christian or not, I can only go so far. And it's not because she is a freethinking, atheist but because she is evil. I have a couple of good friends who believe as she does and yet try to do the right thing. Sure we have debates about God, but they are kind, trustworthy, and try to be helpful. I pray for them and they laugh at me. No problem! But my boss has become bitter and bitterness is a disease I refuse to catch. I became bitter this week. Spanked my little cuz, flipped on company, and grumbled on my lunch date. Then had to stop and say, "oh my God. I haven't cracked a joke in like five hours. What's wrong with me?" Went to pray and found out I am becoming embittered. Ha! Not me, babies. Not no mo'.
I didn't want to continue cause this is long enough...but can't help it.So to finish my rant:
I also prayed on this job issue and feel it is time. 6 years this Sept 23rd...and it's okay. Like I said, I checked to see how much money I have if I walk away and it would be enough to take a break and write and see what God has next for me. I'd like to go on the mission field also. To Haiti and where ever else. I have postponed that three times already. Because I cannot get approved for vaca without a fight, while my boss takes off entire summers and most of the winter holidays as well. So it's a wrap. Our church is doing a crusade in Haiti this November and I'd like to be there this time if accepted since I keep applying and then telling them I can't go. Help build stuff and volunteer and pray for folks...whatever. Maybe I'll get to cook for folks...cook like my grandmother and Momita taught me and see if it measures up with the Haitians lacaye (back home). Whatever way it happens, I would like to be there to finally help, God willing for six weeks...unless my mother can't live without me. If I am to sacrifice it has to mean something.
So next Monday, I am going to re-hand her my resignation and give her a month's to six weeks notice (cause I don't want to burden our team). I am gonna take half of the money I have "vested" (again, whatever that means) and roll over the other half into another program. I'll probably see if I can join a private practice or another type of clinic or something but maybe there is another plan for me. If I continue to do this therapy thing, I think I want to work with violent youth. For some reason, I do fairly well with the younger clients. We get them at 18, but I'd like to catch them before they turn into "damaged for life." Maybe the 14 or 15 year olds. Plus I do real estate part time anyway, and although my money from that goes right to the student loan terrorists, I can still soup up my efforts on that end. I think deep inside, I knew it was coming which is why I redid my RE license. Of course buyers are more mental than my clients but at least I get to see new properties...which I love.
I didn't want to continue cause this is long enough...but can't help it.So to finish my rant:
I also prayed on this job issue and feel it is time. 6 years this Sept 23rd...and it's okay. Like I said, I checked to see how much money I have if I walk away and it would be enough to take a break and write and see what God has next for me. I'd like to go on the mission field also. To Haiti and where ever else. I have postponed that three times already. Because I cannot get approved for vaca without a fight, while my boss takes off entire summers and most of the winter holidays as well. So it's a wrap. Our church is doing a crusade in Haiti this November and I'd like to be there this time if accepted since I keep applying and then telling them I can't go. Help build stuff and volunteer and pray for folks...whatever. Maybe I'll get to cook for folks...cook like my grandmother and Momita showed me and see if it measures up with the Haitians lacaye (back home). Whatever way it happens, I would like to be there to finally help, God willing for six weeks...unless my mother can't live without me. If I am to sacrifice it has to mean something.
So next Monday, I am going to re-hand her my resignation and give her a month's to six weeks notice (cause I don't want to burden our team). I am gonna take half of the money I have "vested" (again, whatever that means) and roll over the other half into another program. I'll probably see if I can join a private practice or another type of clinic or something but maybe there is another plan for me. If I continue to do this therapy thing, I think I want to work with violent youth. For some reason, I do fairly well with the inner-city younger clients. We get them at 18, but I'd like to catch them before they turn into "damaged for life." Maybe the 14 or 15 year olds. Plus I do real estate part time anyway, and although my money from that goes right to the student loan terrorists, I can still soup up my efforts on that end. I think deep inside, I knew it was coming which is why I redid my RE license. Of course buyers are more mental than my clients but at least I get to see new properties...which I love.
I don't have much to vent about just asking for prayers and well wishing. My mom just went through open heart surgery. So far she is doing well. Vee, just so I can comment with common sense, you are going to give me a day or two, to read those vents. lol.
School starts officially for my daughter today. It is stupid. They have one day of school and then a holiday.
Wishing and praying your mom is well Jo. God bless her and you and your daughter's new school year. I need your email btw. Can't find it. Message me. Peace.
JOOOOO.Hope mom is well. Has she gotten better? Did you get my email of my pics to help me choose?
Update from last vent about job: I did it. I resigned as of 7 minutes ago.
Thanks for all of you letting me vent all those times. :-)
I am clumsy but not because I am a writer...but because I am spacey I think. And I get attacked by my clothes often.
I am the female Jack Tripper from "Three's Company." Speaking of slipping off a barstool sober...once I was attempting to climb onto a barstool. I'm short, I guess, 5'5 or so. I was wearing sneaks so this shouldn't have happened, but somehow as I was attempting to climb up this insanely high, narrow, wooden stool, my butt missed the seat or something cause I slid off the side. The stool tilted over to the next empty stool, which tilted over and hit a woman in the arm, who ended up spilling her drink all over her face and neck.LOL. My friend was like, "Oh no, it can't be! What did you do? I can't take you nowhere!" I had to buy the piiiiissed off lady a drink ($14) and then I left because my friends were embarrassed. That was like five years ago. But I thihk they got my picture up in that place. I'm probably banned. No joke.
I am famous for falling on folks on buses and trains. Let's say I'm on the subway, and I am standing, holding a pole, reading a book. At the exact moment when I let go to turn a page, the train will jerk to a stop, or move. And of course I don't just take a step or two like everyone else. No, I go flying across the car to slam into someone's chest or mash someone's foot or take down someone's baby carriage.
At least I move well when I dance. For some reason I am not clumsy when I dance. Maybe cause I love music so much.