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Well good morning, evening, maybe afternoon depending on where you are! Yes, sadly I will be doing the blog today so apologies are sent out to everyone I might mess up with me doing it . Well now that we are done with Valentines week, let's take a look back on all of the different offerings this week.
- 2018 Summer Novella Anthology: Summer - Due April 15th, 2018
- 2018 Spring Anthology: Now or Never - Due May 15th
- 2018 Spring Anthology: Encounters - Due May 15th
- 2018 Fall Anthology: Fight Back - Due Nov 15th
- 2018 Fall Anthology: Good Intentions - Due Nov 15th
Story Critique: Open to all GA authors. Sign up here.
Ask An Author: Send your questions for your favorite authors to @Carlos Hazday (no questions = no Ask An Author)
3 Story Promo: Open to all GA Authors. PM Renee Stevens to participate.
Author Interview: Open to all GA Authors. PM Renee Stevens to participate.
Favorite Self-Written Story: Open to all GA authors. PM Renee Stevens to participate
Story Recommendations: Open to all GA authors & readers. PM Renee Stevens to participate.
Harbinger by Cia *Premium*
The Friendship Ring by Ronyx
You Promised Me a Tomorrow by Ronyx
Boy Valentine by Comicality
Denied by Cia
GA Writing Prompts by Dolores Esteban
I Could Tell by Comicality
Insomnia by CassieQ
Martyrs of the Heart by Cynus
Mojo by AC Benus
Promptings from Valhalla by Valkyrie
Second Chances by Cynus
Shadow Honor by Cynus
So Weeps the Willow by Cole Matthews
Bless Me, Father by Parker Owens
Disasters, Delights and Other Detours by Parker Owens
Fractions for fun by Puppilull
Only Prompts by Mikiesboy
Special Occasion Stories by Caz Pedroso
***Check out this GA Classic***
A coming of age story about Andy Collins and friends. As he deals with his sexual orientation, he and his friends must also confront abuse and murder in the small mining town of Pine Hills, nestled away in the Appalachian Mountains of Eastern Kentucky.
Don't forget.... Read, Write, and REVIEW!!!
Wow, I guess it's been a month or twelve.
So yeah, I actually had a minute to sit down at my PC and look over some of my old files and realized that I haven't written anything in almost a year (sigh). I guess now's as good a time as any to start moving again on my stories, since the wife and baby are out of town until Sunday.
I can't honestly say that I don't know why I haven't been writing lately, but it's the same old shit.. work, school, family.... everyone gets it. The fact of the matter is that I haven't taken the time to sit down and write because I never take time for myself anymore, and I think I've burnt myself out, so to speak.
That said, there's only one way that I know of to relax, and that's to sit down at my desk and either read or write. Preferably both, but if I had to choose right now, I think I'll write something. Not sure if it'll be good enough to post on my site here at GA, but if it is, I'll put it up.
Right, I am somewhat in a dizzy miffed off mood today.
So this one is a bit of a rant.
There is something that I really just do not get! What is it about sex with a child????
Right, sex is about giving pleasure and taking pleasure right? It is about enjoyment and climax and orgasm right?
It's about love and lust and emotions.
And you can get ANY of that from a bloody kid???
Ian Watkins today pleaded guilty to a series of depraved child sex offences, including the attempted rape of a baby!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh for heavens sakes man. Come on!
For those who don't have a clue who the hell Ian Watkins is, he is lead singer of the massive Indie Rock band The Lost Prophets.
They are a South Wales band, and as I used to live down that way, I've seen then perform at several gigs and concerts and really love their music.
The singer has always furiously denied the allegations which surfaced a few months ago in the wake of the whole Kiddy fiddling scandal that came to light when Jimmy Savile popped his cloggs.
Now ok, the allure of youth I can understand to a degree. A young man in his teens can be remarkably good looking and have curves and shapes that are not worn down by time and over indulgence.
But I am talking about a young man that's into the latter half of his teens.
In the UK the age of consent set by those that have wisdom in these things is 16. Now exactly what that is meant to mean, I am not 100% sure.
I guess, what they are trying to say is that by the age of 16, young people have some sort of understanding of what sex is and the fact that a whole load of emotions and feelings and all that other mumbo jumbo is tied up with it, even if they are not equipped or experienced to deal with it. So if they are going to get sexual, at least they are capable of some reason and sensibility.
Look, kids are going to be kids. They will want to experiment and try it out and get into mischief. Bloody hell, I did it, and I am pretty sure most of you did too.
We all did right?
But, for the most part, we did it with someone we chose, most probably with a peer or friend within our own age group, and if it was with an older person, that decision was probably made at a time when we decided we really wanted to find out what all this sex stuff could feel like when done properly, and with someone who had experience.
Am I being sensible when I say that this is normal, natural behaviour for a young person?
To suggest that a child, one that has not even entered into sexual maturity, or let alone puberty is sexually active and desires a relationship with an older person??????????
How do you get gratification for a kid that cannot even perform yet?
When I see people that I have looked up to and admired as celebrities and heroes abusing their position of trust and access, I feel really mad first and fore most, but completely disillusioned and let down. Why?
Look, this has been going on for ages, I know. It is a very dark and dirty part of our world. It is something we know about, hear about, but never really want to discuss or think about, because let us be frank, it is appalling and sickening to think that young, beautiful children are subjected to this wickedness.
So no one really says much.
But, the worms are crawling out the woodwork here in the UK recently. The police are doing a lot to sort this. About bloody time.
I just really needed to have a rant, and put my thoughts down on paper. I work in music, have always admired some of these people. How many times have I sung that song by Rolf Harris called Two Little Boys. It's even moved me to tears! Now, to find out he another of these men?
We live in a sad world. I suppose that stuff like this has always been there, but now that it comes out into the public domain so easily! It hurts.
Tell me, is there a limit to our depravity? Just let a kid be a kid for crying out loud. They have a whole life to grow up and get caught up in the shit that goes with the emotional roller coaster of sex. We all know this right? Our youth is a precious time, let the young enjoy and build treasured memories, ones like you and I have. Not stuff that they should NEVER have to be thinking about.
Meh, enough said, rant over, but just really needed to get this crap off my chest today. Thanks for listening.
Thought for today - "Virtue is bold and goodness never faithful." - William Shakespeare
I have been off my autoimmune hepatitis medication for almost a whole month without any flare up. My doctor figures I'm in remission, but it's hard to be sure because the immune suppressants I take for my liver can also treat the autoimmune disorder in small degrees. It's a start, and without my body tearing itself to pieces, my doctor might be right; my condition is chronic, not terminal. He didn't like that little joke of mine, and to be honest, I don't think I did either.
I'm still taking it day by day. I sleep mostly, decently, for the first time in a long time. I wake up near afternoon every day, and I check my emails (no emails usually), I check my skype (nothing new usually) and I check around GA for new things. I did sign up to go back to school and finally get my bachelors so once January comes around, I'll be a lot more busy. I'll be glad of that. It's a terrible feeling being lonely, but at least I'll be busy and lonely for now on.
My stalker is still at large. He emails me, not as often as he use to, but maybe once a week. I ignore them, sometimes I don't open them at all and just delete them. He's been threatening to come to my city and look for me. I'd like to see him find me in the fourth largest city in Tennessee. I'm hoping he doesn't, but he likes to remind me every so often that I-75 is quite close to his house and runs right through Chattanooga. He also started acting like GA members and sending me emails pretending to be them based on threads I've liked. I don't know who he is on GA, but he's been banned before, he'll be banned again for sure. I think he's mostly just talk. Something is wrong with him.
Married life isn't much different from dating life. Jamie works a lot. It's dull.
I'm going to change my email soon. I'll let everyone know when I've done it, but in secret, because I only want a few people to know it.
Yes, it has been forever and a day since I added anything to the blog. I feel like one of those co-workers who leaves the office for a new job and promises on their mother's grave they'll stay in touch. Then you only see them when lightning strikes and you're in the same place at the same time and you swear once again you'll stay in touch, but in reality you know the demands of your job will never allow for it. That's a convoluted way of saying, sorry I've been so absent, but I've been crazy busy.
That said, I need to say thank you to GA and Caz Pedroso for nominating Chosen of Honorus for story of the month. Chosen of Honorus was the precursor to The Last Grand Master - the first book in the Champion of the Gods series that DSP Publications is publishing. It was/is the book that jump started my publishing career. I owe a big debt to GA for taking a chance on me and giving me the confidence to push out into the wide literary world.
There is a prequel to Chosen of Honorus - First Love - that is available on the DSP Publications site or you can find a link on my website. If you sign up for my monthly newsletter, there is a link in one of the welcome emails as well. If you want to sign up for my newsletter, you can use this link:
In addition, if you like Chosen of Honorus, there are now three more books in the series available from DSP Publication and the last book in the series will be released in 2018. Books 1-3 are also on sale now through the end of April. Here is a link to the sale page on my website:
Despite what I said above about being the co-worker who left, sometimes a little jolt reminds you of what you're missing. In my case, I realize how much I miss the people I met here. I think if I have time to socialize with fans on Facebook and Twitter, I can use some of that time to come here once a day too. I'm going to do my best to do that. That said, the new set up is going to take me some time to get used to so if I miss your comments, you can always email me - Andrew@andrewqgordon.com. I'm usually very good at responding to emails.
Thank you all again. It's humbling and flattering to realize people haven't forgotten you. It's a very good feeling.
PS In case you forgot what I look like or want to see a new picture of 'lil q (way more likely than wanting to see me) I'll post a few pictures in a few minutes. .
Since the beginning of November, I have been posting regular blogs in various places. A big part of this has been getting into the habit of writing regularly. Some of the blogs I do in batches and others, like this one, is posted when I'm done writing it. For the last few years, I've had a lower profile on the site and lot of the new folks don't know much about me. So, I've also been trying to be more personable. Well, as much as a grumpy bear can be personable at least. lol.
So part of this habit is to make sure that I write something every single day. Now, that all of that is blogs, as I am working on entries for the anthologies and other writing projects. I've found that my creativity is flowing better if I write a blog entry of some sort before jumping into story writing. Not sure why, but it's working for me for now.
I am at my mother's this weekend. I've been going through the slow process of moving back in with her. I built my mancave in her barn last year and now I'm looking for a job I can jump to in her area. Saves a ton of money for both of us to share resources. And moving back in with her frees her up from a bunch of stuff so she can help my grandparents. So, anyway, we're talking about more renovations to the house. Upgrading the bathroom, the kitchen and turning a room into my dedicated office. The office will give me a place to close the door and do work. It would not be a place to play. Apparently, psychologically, it is much easier to discipline ourselves when we keep the areas we work and the areas we play separate.
I seem to have rambled a bit I'm going to get off the computer for now and go take care of some of the stuff I moved back here, then go do some organizing/planning in my mancave. I plan on doubling the size of my mancave by converting the backroom of the barn into my little rec room complete with a pellet stove for our long winter months. I'm also planning on sticking a 3d printer in there when I'm all done so I can design and make stuff.
When I say barn, by the way... this is what I mean:
It is 120 years old for those keeping score. We've got some work to do in a couple of places, especially after last year's internal roof work. They installed collar ties and supports for the roof trusses, as it is basically wide open upstairs.
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Once upon a time… That’s how these things start, right? The line that starts the whole story. After that, nothing else even matters but getting to the happily ever after. I used to think I could see mine, out there on the horizon, but each time I think I’ve got it in my sights, something happens that shows me differently.
The settings and circumstances change, characters come and go, and there’s plenty of romance and drama to make it interesting. Even if you could predict how it ended, it’s so much fun to get there that you wouldn’t want to miss a thing, wouldn’t change a thing. And in the end, that’s what matters… that you lived and loved with your whole heart.
No matter how much or how well I plan, no matter how much I might work toward it or want it, the truth is that happiness is elusive, evolving, ever-changing. It’s conditional and comprehensive and you haven’t got a chance at actually attaining it without perspective. It’s different for each person, without justification, and the same. We’re all searching for it.
We pack up our hopes and dreams in our knapsacks, swing them over our shoulders, and head out into the great big world in search of it. Things happen on our quest, as they inevitably will, that make us change what we think will make us happy. Force us to examine our original plan or dream and decide if it’s still worth pursuing, if it’s still the thing that’s going to make us happy and whole.
So often, people hit a wall, and instead of figuring out how to get over it or around it, they just turn around and go back the way they came. We justify it to ourselves, the giving up, by telling ourselves that we were mistaken, that we didn’t really want that after all. The truth is it was too much work to learn to climb the walls. It was easier to just walk away.
That entire idea is absurd. Of course, we don’t know that then. Not only are we walking away from our dreams and our potential happiness, but we leave little pieces of ourselves behind every time we do. Living our lives as a fraction of our whole selves isn’t easy or conducive to finding the happily ever after we’ve been looking for. Worse, it’s actually more work in the long term to continually have to convince ourselves that we happily left those pieces behind.
Sometimes, actually, a lot lately, I wonder how much one person can take before they give up. It’s been said that you’re only given as much as you can handle at one time. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I’ve been given an extraordinary amount. Definitely more than any one person’s fair share, then again, as I was often reminded as a child, life isn’t fair.
My life has fallen apart so many times now that I’ve lost count. Not really, but I don’t like to recount them. It’s not a contest and no one knows the rules. Does the scoring work like golf or like bowling? Does the survivor of the worst situation win, or is it the person who never had to find a way to exist in spite of the worst happening?
Being a party to the first group, having set aside my dreams repeatedly for the good of the cause, literally learning things the hard way, and learning to breathe with a broken heart makes a good case for the people in group number two. Still though, I wonder. In return for survival, I’ve earned an appreciation for making the most of each moment, for putting my whole heart and self into everything I do, being genuine, and the value of true happiness. That’s definitely got value, and it’s something the people in group number two will never have.
Without perspective, and a heap of optimism, it’s fair to say that a lot of people who have suffered some upheaval in their lives miss the things they were supposed to learn at the time. And that’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Learning the lessons, learning from the experiences, growing as a human being, and finding happiness. Not that it’s easy to remember that in the moment.
Often it comes to us in flashes, tiny pieces of clarity and knowledge that we grab on to and use to pull ourselves out of the ugly hole of despair. It’s a slippery slope, and for some, it takes years and a Sherpa to find their way out. Even with a trail of breadcrumbs and trail signs, it’s one of the most difficult journeys a person will ever make. One would think the third or fourth, or even the fifth time, you’d know the way out, but it doesn’t work that way. No one ever said life was for the faint of heart.
I rummaged through one drawer in my mom’s old, cherry wood jewelry box that sat atop my dresser before moving to another until I found it. It wasn’t in great shape when I pulled it out from amongst the old watches, the matching one I’d gotten for him a month later, and the shamrock pin I wear once a year. Tarnished and so scratched from years of wear, you could barely make out my name where it had been engraved on the front.
Still, I turned it over and read the inscription on the back of the very first gift he’d ever given me. It was to celebrate my 16th birthday and our one month anniversary. An ID bracelet, simple and silver, with a message straight from a heart experiencing those first delirious moments when you fall so crazy in love for the first time.
I wanted to wear it again, to remind me of what we once had, what we could have again, if he can find his way back to me. A reminder to soothe myself with hope when I’m so scared that we’ll never get it back, and because it’s the closest I’ve been to feeling his love in weeks.
I squeezed a little toothpaste into my hand and rubbed it between my palms a second before cleaning the bracelet the best way I knew how in the absence of any silver polish and wondered if he’d even remember giving it to me, remember what it said. Eventually, I silently admitted to myself that I hoped it reminded him of what he’d promised me all those years ago.
Forever yours. Love, Rich.
Hours later, when I was serving dinner, our daughter, Annemarie, just weeks from turning sixteen herself, noticed it and asked, “What is that bracelet?”
Unsure if I was relieved that she wasn’t complaining about the peas I was putting in front of her, or suddenly nervous that Rich had taken notice now also, I vaguely answered, “It’s mine. I’ve had it a while,” and handed Rich a plate of beef stroganoff that he eyed cautiously. He doesn’t like mushrooms or sour cream, but he’d have to actually speak to me to find out if it contained either. Instead, he just ate it.
Like any typical teenage girl who is all wrapped up in her own life, she let it go, and in an effort not to let me down, went on to complain about the peas. It was a welcome piece of normalcy, something I could count on in the chaos that had become my life. Besides, I like peas and beef stroganoff.
It’s equally horrifying and comforting to know where Rich and I were in our lives at her age, and knowing that she’s so far from that place. We were so sure at sixteen that we had it all figured out, or if not, that we’d conquer the world together. We’d show them, prove them all wrong. What the hell did we know?
There are two types of people in this world. The type who crumble in the face of a crisis, who panic and act without thinking, who let their fear and their emotions control their behavior and decisions, and then there’s the other. These remaining people are the logical type. They keep their heads when times get tough, are always thinking their way through several scenarios until they find the best one, and easily separate their emotions from their thought process.
That’s not to say that these logical thinkers don’t have emotional reactions to things. They certainly do, it would be inhuman not to. They just typically don’t act on them. As it turns out, intuition and emotional responses don’t usually lead us down the smoothest or the safest path. Certainly not the smartest.
Typically, it’s the outbursts of anger, the confessions of love made with such bravado, and the feeling as if you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you leaving you with a horribly painful sadness where you would normally find oxygen that can create the biggest opportunities to make the worst moves. I would have said decisions, but to be decisive requires thought, consideration, and evaluation.
Being a logical mind can be both a phenomenal power and a crippling weakness. To know that you’ll always know what to do and how to go about getting it done, to take things literally and to be able to count on that as a constant, and to feel the comfort that logic is your default setting can be immensely comforting in a world that changes faster than many of us can keep up with. Consequently, it makes it a major difficulty to let that default setting go and find enjoyment in basic things.
Personally, I can’t make it through most cartoons. Even if I could overlook the fact that there are talking animals who can lift anvils that weigh twenty times their own body weight or drive cars along the ocean floor, what I cannot discount is that the responses those cartoon characters have to whatever circumstances they find themselves in, become moot, ridiculous, illogical.
Instead of being entertaining, it’s frustrating. Possibly as frustrating as being the person on the couch next to me watching a movie or a TV show. Perhaps it comes from my depth of life experience, or because I’m a writer and a storyteller, or because, as logical as I am, I’m more in touch with my emotions and the emotions of those around me than most people, but whatever the reason, when I can predict the ending, most people would say there’s no point in watching anymore.
I disagree, for it’s there, in that moment when we’ve connected with that character enough to know what will happen in their future, that we learn about ourselves. How would we act or feel in that situation? What would we do? What would our next move be? Little lessons and explorations that can be learned and taken without consequence. A free pass.
Logical people watch everything, analyzing, organizing, forming patterns. They are supervisory and certain about what they feel is right or wrong. These people are easily adaptable and energetic, have a keen eye for details, and typically, a logical person is the decision maker. They are realists.
I’m not sure anyone but a logical personality could understand what it feels like to be faced with a situation that is anything but logical. To be able to do nothing to make it right or organize it so it can be dealt with. To be the one not making the decisions. There are no ‘right’ answers; there are no ways to best this dragon. The only thing there is in bountiful quantities is a frightening feeling of helplessness.
After 19 years, Rich has decided he's not in love with me anymore, started sleeping with a girl he works with, and has destroyed my dreams, my marriage, broken my heart, and crushed my children's entire existence with his selfishness.
After 19 years, I've crossed more things off my 'I Never Want To Experience This' List than my bucket list. Here's one more: I'm getting divorced.
Youtube's random suggestions just gave me a reminder to one of the funniest Christmas inspired TV moments.
Advisory, if you love Santa Claus, don't watch this clip, but if you love to laugh at Always Sunny in Philadelphia's warped type of humor, watch it:
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I figured I would let everyone know I'm still alive and functioning. Just been a bad year.
I have managed to get some stories done. Luckily I did them early. This has been a year of things going boom. My car died. My computer dies. I became a full blown diabetic. I lost 70 pounds. I've been really sick, but I keep going.
I do apologize for not being around. Hopefully things will get better in 2017.
Wishing everyone all the best. Just know I'm thinking of you if not here.
The last couple of weeks, my gym here in the city has been under threat of closure. A few months ago, the building was bought by a New York real estate company that has a track record of demolishing older structures and building condos. The building sits right in the heart of the Gayborhood here in Philly, which in turn is located in the heart of Center City. There has been a huge influx of luxury apartments being built the last ten years, like any other big city in America. I guess it was only a matter of time before the Gayborhood succumbed to that. The gym has over 4,000 members, many of whom are gay with strong attachments to the Gayborhood. It serves as a gym, but also a gay social and community center. I've been a member here for the 3.5 years I've lived in the city, and it's been like a second home to me. In those three and a half years, apartments, jobs, boyfriends, fuck-buddies, and friends have all come and gone, but the gym stayed the same and was always there for me. I got to know a lot of people in the scene from this gym, and it's where I first hit on my boyfriend over two years ago (he was terrified of me at first, lol). The point it, it is more then just a gym to thousands of guys, and now it is closing next week for good. After being Philadelphia's gay gym for 3 decades, it's going to be gone forever. And that is genuinely depressing to me. Everyone at the gym is being forced to disperse to multiple other gyms, thus completely diluting the sense of community the place brought. Sigh.
Unfortunately, the Gayborhood has been changing a lot since the first time I stepped foot it in in 2010. 3 gay bars have closed in those years, while only one new one has opened. The best gay club in the city, Woody's, has now been overrun with obnoxious straight people and mostly abandoned by the gay guys who made it such a great spot. Voyuer, the popular after hours club across the street, is starting to suffer the same fate, with more and more straight people invading and ruining the things that made it such an amazing place to dance until the wee hours of the morning. Unfortunately, the building that houses the gym also houses another gay bar, Tabu, and 18 other businesses with a strong LGBT focus and clientele. There is also a beautiful mural painted several years ago of Gloria Casarez, a well-known LGBT rights activist from Philadelphia who died several years ago (picture posted below). All of that will be demolished to make way for most likely another luxury high rise, and further water down one of the most fun, unique, and funky neighborhoods of this city.
I guess this is a byproduct of gay rights and the gentrification of cities. As we become more mainstreamed, we begin to lose so much of what makes us unique from the generic, mostly bland and boring straight world. I'm not quite sure anymore if it's a price worth paying, because I don't want to become like my straight friends. It's such a pre-determined, mind-numbing path that ends in a suburban track home with 2.2 kids and a hour long commute to a job you hate. No, I want what I had in the beginning and what the older gay guys had back in the day. I don't want to be assimilated anymore. I'm okay with being part of a minority that is different and unique. We've lost so much of that, especially here in Philadelphia, and I'm not sure we'll ever get it back.
It's time for me to start looking elsewhere in the world.
I like blogging. I like just sitting around and thinking or chatting about a topic. Writing out my thoughts is nice because it helps me frame them in a more concrete way. It's nice just doing it in my head, but it's more fun and more satisfying on a computer screen...not on a piece of paper, physically writing sucks. Typing is nice though. Anyway, over the years I've grown thoroughly attached to this site and its members and whatever else I'm doing in my life I still enjoy a place to just sit and thing, and type about it, so I figure it might as well be here.
A few short updates about my life since I figure that's the least I can do before I ramble about inconsequential topics. The boyfriend and I are doing well, in exactly a week it'll be two years. Work is lovely this time of year. This is our slowest time of year, and since I work from home anyway, it mostly means that I can sit around all day doing whatever I like as long as I keep one eye and ear on my work computer. Not a prob
I've been enjoying my hobbies quite a bit as well. It's very hard to avoid reading. Despite being a technophobe I opted to get an Amazon Kindle (I once started a thread on these in the Lobby when they first came out! :-P) as well as finally jumping on the Ipod wagon. So anyway, I adore the Kindle, strongly prefer it to physical books. I go through a couple of books a week, which is a lot for me given what a slow, methodical reader I tend to be. Interestingly though, I also tend to read more on the Ipod than I listen to music or do anything else. The graphics, browser, and interface are much better on the Ipod (which I think is called an Ipod Touch) than they are on the Kindle. Which is fine because I didn't want the Kindle to be flashy and distracting. I kind of want it to be only good for reading books (and buying new ones), because that's all I want to do on it. So I read the books on the Kindle, but I've found that "web reading" is so much better on the Ipod than it is on the Kindle or the computer screen. The thing I don't like about reading for hours on a laptop that you're stuck with this big, heavy, bulky thing. A tiny handheld reading device like the Kindle or Ipod (or *gasp* a real book) is way better to read on. So with its flashy browser capabilities the Ipod is ideal for handheld reading...but yeah I keep getting distracted with games, music, and the rest of the internet when I use it, so I'm glad the Kindle's there for more hardcore reading.
Anyway all this reading has, unsurprisingly resparked my desire to write so I've taken that back up again. Unfortunately I have to admit that I don't really plan to post the stuff here. I'm hoping to attempt real life publishing and as a last result might try eBook publishing. In any case I don't intend to do it for years. I'm working on a series of books and I have no intention of publishing anything, or even showing it to anyone, until I have like the first four or five completely finished. That way I can make them as complicated as I would like since I can go back and add/remove things to all the previous stuff. I find that when I post online on a chapter by chapter basis, even if I'm pretty far ahead, I end up wishing I could change something, but it's too late (or at least feels too late) since it's already "out there." I'd really want to shoot myself if I had a great idea in book four that was being precluded by something I'd written in book one. So yeah, gonna wait and work a long time on these before they see the light of day.
This winter has been surprisingly pleasant. One of the best ones I've had in years. I've been lazy and energetic, like I get every winter, but I've avoided the anhedonia and enveloping numbness this year. Granted, I haven't felt like going out and partying, but at least I've felt like staying in and reading and writing rather than being disinterested in everything and marking time till spring.
The boyfriend and I have been living together about a year and a half now. Overall it's been remarkably smooth and pleasant. The main conflict comes from the fact that I'm a really tidy, organized person. I really am the sort of person who has a place for everything. I don't own any items that I leave in random places. What's more, I don't even acquire new items unless I can mentally figure out where I'll be keeping them. I definitely like for all items to go back to their designated places at the end of every use. The boyfriend on the other hand is the sort of person who picks something up, uses it, and then just puts it down wherever he happens to be. He'll think nothing of leaving the soy sauce sitting on the coffee table or at his desk indefinitely. That really doesn't work for me. I'm also the sort of person who won't even think about going to bed until everything is put away. Him on the other hand, when he gets tired that's it. Since I have to go to bed earlier than he does for work, that means that every morning I end up cleaning and tidying. Somehow I'm still always shocked by it too. My god! he left his half full glass of tea on the table next to saran wrap from something he opened! Somehow this just shocks me more than it annoys me. I couldn't have slept knowing it was out there if I were him.
I'm also generally just a great deal more organized than he is. I got really ticked off last month because he just up and told me that we had to drop everything and go visit his mom for her birthday. I like his mom, I agree that it's important to visit family for special occasions. What annoyed me is that I had zero notice, and why? Not because he forgot to tell me (although he probably would have ), but because he forgot her birthday was coming up at all. He hadn't known at all until his dad texted him. That also meant of course that he didn't have a present, and although I tried to insist that we just go pick something up on the way, he refused because "he doesn't like to get things just to get them. It has to be something he knows the person will like" and he didn't have any ideas. Which is fine, quite thoughtful actually, but that ship had sailed and personally I would have rathered gotten something nice, but generic than shown up empty handed.
Of course I'm not trying to make him sound bad or difficult to be with; he's certainly not. He's very thoughtful and agreeable. He's also quite a lot less set his ways than I am, and in all honesty he puts up with nagging, neurotic requests far better than I could put up with similar such things from someone like me. If he were as particular as I am about how things are done and where they go then we never could have put up with each other.
Yikes, I can't believe it's been, like, 8 months since my last blog! It's amazing how quickly life passes by sometimes ...
Anyway, since my last blog post, I closed on my new house, spent about a month dealing with contractors to completely renovate the whole place (quite the undertaking -- both in terms of the stress involved and the cost!) But, I'm all settled in and love it. The commute to work is awful, but living sort of out in the country is nice -- peaceful and quiet! Moving from a 600 sq. foot apartment to a 2,400 sq. foot house required me to buy lots of furniture and spend lots of time decorating. It's not all done yet (will it ever be?), but it's probably about 80% complete.
Work is busy, busy, busy ... and more stressful than usual lately. When I get home in the evening, I just want to crash on the couch and watch television (or just pass out from exhaustion). But, it pays my mortgage, so I can't complain too much.
On to more 'important' things, though ... Yes, I have started writing again. WISYA hasn't been 'speaking' to me lately, so I'm not sure at what point I'm going to pick it up again. I've 'tentatively' started a new serial novel, called "Home By Now" (unless I change). It's a bit on the 'dark' side, but I like how it's going so far. I at least want to complete a few chapters or more before I start posting, and I really have no clue when that will be, but progress (or something like progress) is at least happening ...
Final note for the evening ... I'm now reading the 'Twilight' series for the third time, and saw 'New Moon' on opening weekend. For the longest time, I refused to read the books or see the movies, but I finally caved when I was bored one weekend, and now I'm hooked! No, Stephenie Meyer won't be winning any literary awards anytime soon, but there is something really captivating about the story ... and it doesn't hurt that Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are soooo dreamy! ;-)
Anyway, that's it for now ... Hopefully I'll be back again soon ... :-)
Here's a poem and my translation of it.
de Gérard Labrunie, ou Gérard de Nerval
Je suis le Ténébreux – le Veuf – l’Inconsolé,
Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la Tour abolie:
Ma seule Etoile est morte – et mon luth constellé
Porte le Soleil noir de la Mélancolie.
Dans la nuit du Tombeau, Toi qui m’as consolé,
Rends-moi le Pausilippe et la mer d’Italie,
La fleur qui plaisait tant à mon coeur désolé,
Et la treille où le Pampre à la Rose s’allie.
Suis-je Amour ou Phébus ?… Lusignan ou Biron?
Mon front est rouge encor du baiser de la Reine;
J’ai rêvé dans la Grotte où nage la sirène….
Et j’ai deux fois vainqueur traversé l’Achéron:
Modulant tour à tour sur la lyre d’Orphée
Les soupirs de la Sainte et les cris de la Fée.
by Gérard Labrunie, aka Gérard de Nerval
I am the tombs – the widower – the unconsoled,
The prince of Aquitaine in his tower abandoned:
My one and only star is dead – my strings unfold
Melancholy's black light whose sun is most weakened.
In the night of the graves, your tears held me controlled,
So now return Posillipo, Naples' fair wind,
The flower my afflicted heart liked so much of old,
And the trellis where grape and rose were jointly pinned.
Am I Venus or the Sun...? Brave king or coward?
My brow is still flushed from the kiss of the sovereign;
I dream yet of the grotto where swims the siren….
Twice crossing the river of the dead, I scoured
For my turn on Orpheus' lyre to play
For saintly sighs, and the cursed screams of the fey.
Note: The poem was published in 1853 as part of a series of twelve Sonnets written while the man was incarcerated for mental instability. The title is Spanish means “the desolate”; “the wretched”; “the unfortunate” etc. For some interesting and detailed analysis of the poem and its images, see here: https://everything2.com/title/El+Desdichado
You and I, we have a strong bond
Like brothers, like lovers;
We disgust the world with our vain perversions,
our inane attachment with the word and the seas of heresy
part at our command revealing the shells of untruths hiding
beneath the silt of social justice.
Ecstasy beyond judgement is what we share
in the binding fallacy of corporeal pain
battling to win over the spirit.
Our ascension begins at the alter of ego.
Broken down pieces of the mirror of self-hate, we tread
upon our steps to immortality. Morality, ethics, civility, higher power
are all suspended in space as dwindling starlights, reaching us
from the outer edges of cosmos.
You and I, we have a strong bond.
Like brothers, like lovers;
We step over millions of corpses to reach the quintessential truth, the poesy of nature.
When I see you talking to others I think of it as betrayal
When I see you smiling with others I question if you are loyal
When I see you moving on with life going roundabout your business
I feel I have been left out from it all in order to hide your menace
I know the wheels are turning
I know the fires are burning out
Emotions are condensing in big chunks of ice
And soon it won't suffice to tell you that I love you,
that the earth only blooms for you,
that my breath begins & ends with you
And soon you will leave me for the others who make you smile, who kiss
you behind my back, smell your hair, bend you over to the road of infidelity
And it drives me mad, mad like a ragging bull,
Like a substance user craving his previous high
I can't stand them making you smile
One of these days I will tell them of your lies
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Does anyone else get hiccups a lot? I seem to get them a lot and I can't figure out why...I just hiccuped my way through some toast and it just makes eating seem like a lot of hard work...*sigh* back to the essay. It's so close to done, I almost just want to hand it in right now, even though it's incomplete so I can then come home and take a nap...
Also, my friend that I've not spoken to for like a year after we had an arguement and stuff should have got the package I sent her today... I hope she doesn't hate me...
In the early 70's, my family moved to Mississippi from Louisiana. I was enrolled into a military school to begin my high school years. At 14 and being a female it was quite terrifying. My first day to attend classes, I was as lost as a student during his first day on a college campus. The school I was going too also had boarding students and their dorms. It was a new world to me.
I'll never forget the first break of my first day. I sat on a bench alone pretending to be absorbed in a book. Someone plopped down beside me and said, "Hi, I'm Sandra Faye, but everyone calls me Sandi." That was the beginning of the first true friendship I ever had. We spent nights with each other during the week, all our weekends together and weeks on end during the summers between our high school years. We had our first drink together, double dated on our first date and she taught me how to smoke a cigarette.
My family moved back to Louisiana the end of the summer before my senior year. It didn't affect our friendship in the least. I still came back to Mississippi at least one weekend out of every month. We kept in contact almost daily. Even when I went away to college in North Louisiana, we still kept in touch. She was already working in a NAPA auto store. When I turned 20, I moved back to Mississippi and moved in with her. We both worked in the parts store for a year before I met my first husband and moved out from her house. My first husband and I visited with them a lot since we lived within 20 miles of her and her boyfriend, later to be jusband. My marriage only lasted 13 months..
I was her Maid of Honor in her wedding and played the piano at her sister's wedding. I even spent two Christmases with her family instead of my own because they were like a second family to me. My parents would come to their house on Christmas Day to see me. When I met my second husband, which is who I'm married to now, once again, we were apart. She and her husband moved about an hour away. We both had baby girls and kept in contact on a daily basis.
After three years of marriage, Jimmy and I separated for about six months. My daughter and I moved in with Sandi and her daughter. (She was separated from her husband also.) We were like extended family. When my husband and I worked out our differences, I moved back home and she and I kept in contact but since we both now worked time consuming jobs, we had less contact. But every year, on my birthday she called early in the morning. She never missed one. We'd meet for lunch every once in awhile when one of us was in the other's home town at the time.
Her dad died a couple of years ago and I attended the funeral. She and I found time to visit and it was as if we'd never been apart. She was the sister I chose for myself.
I could write a book here and not even tell a third of our history together. Sadness, happiness, mischief, but friendship beyond all friendship.
Sandi died of a massive heart attack yesterday. Her younger sister made sure that I got word of her death this morning. I'm shocked and heartbroken by the news. The part of me that was connected to her is shaken beyond repair at this moment. Hoping that writing this would give my heart a much needed breath of relief, I'm finding it even heavier and I know it'll stay that way for days to come. Her friendship is one that'll never be replaced. To me she'll always be that sweet little red-headed teen that plopped down beside me on that bench that day when I felt so alone and offered me the gift of her friendship.
Rest in peace my friend. An angel has been added to the heavens.
Thanks to those of you who have sent me e-mails, pms, or otherwise showed concern as to where the fuck I’ve been. To answer the first, most obvious question: I’m fine. Life has its challenges, and I have mine, but there’s nothing there that’s debilitating.
There are three major areas of my life that can impact my writing. My health/wellbeing is obviously one of those, but as I’ve said, that’s pretty good. The next one is the relative level of activity in my life, and I’ve had an awful lot to do. This looks to be a pretty active year for me. To do what Will does to JP, that means I’m busy. J The combined forces of work, home stuff, research, etc. are a bit crushing right now.
The third factor is my muse, or ability/desire to write. For some reason, that has temporarily left me. When I’m busy, but still want to write, I usually find time to do it, but my production fades. In this case, I really haven’t wanted to do much writing, so with the added pressures of real life, I’ve let my online life sort of drift unattended. And I’m finding that there’s really no fighting the relative apathy that envelopes me when I’m in this mode.
In the past, this has happened when I’m in a conundrum about a story, but I have a very clear idea of how I want to proceed with both of my series. With CAP, I have an idea of how I plan to end “Streak” and the initial parts and premise of the next story is already forming in my mind. With Bridgemont, it’s a bit more open-ended, but I have some pivotal events in store.
I’ve been feeling a bit more motivated lately, and I’ve actually done a little writing, but I’ve spent more time reading than anything, and that includes going back over my recent stories for reference. Spring Break approaches, so I hope that in the next month or so I’ll be productive again.
I really do appreciate all of you who read my stories and give me feedback, and I feel bad for leaving you in a lurch. At the same time, I know that you’ll understand life’s pressures, and how a perfect storm like this can really impact my writing.
Nine years. I've been a part of GA for just shy of a decade. I've seen it grow from only a few forums and some scattered author websites to a community of thousands of people across the world with millions of visitors every month. I was member 937 to join the site. GA is now approaching the 25,000th member. I joined this site on a random Wednesday and it turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. The people I've met through this site have guided me and made me who I am today and I couldn't be more thankful. Without them, who knows where I would be.
From the first core group of regular chatters, I was hooked. Viv, Snowdog, Myr, Robert, Lugh, Nate, Krista, Vic, and so many more that I can't even list. They were there to listen to me bitch about high school homework, my first crush on a boy, getting my drivers license, my first relationship and subsequent breakup, graduating college, moving across the country God knows how many times... they were there to listen to me and help me through it. They gave me advice when I needed it and told me to grow a pair and man up when I needed that too. Meeting up with them in San Francisco and Dallas was a blast, but having them guide me through some of the roughest parts of my life was more than I could ever ask for.
I will be officially stepping down in all areas across the site. I will no longer be a moderator, admin, or board member for the parent company. It's been an amazing nine years, but I can no longer hold up my end of the workload and need to part ways to allow someone else to grow with the site as much as I have. The growth this site has seen is nothing compared to what else will become of it. The teams running everything behind the scenes are dedicated to making this site the best possible place for everyone when it comes to gay fiction stories, and I have no doubt it'll continue to grow for many years to come.
Without trying to sound like I'm accepting an award of some sort, I'd just like to thank everyone on the site that has made it what it is and made me who I am. I'm truly grateful for all of the conversations and guidance you've all given me throughout the years. I'll still be around from time to time and may even take a stab at writing some more, but for the most part, this is my final goodbye to Gay Authors. It's been a great journey, but it's time for me to move on with my life and see what else awaits.
Good luck to everyone on the site. I hope you find happiness and gain as much from being a part of this community as I have.
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With apologies to Bleu, from whom I stole the title of this blog shamelessly from one of his comments....
So it has been three weeks in the new job. There are good things, there are bad things. Let's start with the bad things, because it is by far the smaller list. The main thing is, that however much more money and status this job has, it is considerably less challenging than my last one. While some people might relish the idea of a better paid job that is considerably easier, for me it goes against my nature.
The second issue is that the people are not very sociable. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but there will be considerably less socialising than I have been used to and I will genuinely miss it.
On to the good things though. Well, the first is that I can make real, substantive decisions without having to refer upwards. In short, I have much more control and responsibility - and while that in itself carries its own burden, I would rather fail off my own back than fail because someone else had tied my hands. Not that I'm going to fail at all mind you
Second, is location. I work at Oxford Circus, which means I can either go direct to the office, or as I have done this week - walk from any number of picturesque locations. This has taken me through St James' Park, Regents Park, Portland Place (familiar to fans of Mark Arbour's Bridgemont series) and Westminster.
Third is facilities. These guys really know how to look after their staff, and we are pampered and spoiled in ways familiar only to employees of google and apple.
All in all, things are going very well, and for the moment at least, I am pretty happy.
Anyway, that was just a very quick update. I hope to post a more substantial blog very soon. In the meantime, I'm sending hugs and happy thoughts to everyone at GA
So I'll start by explaining yesterday, which exemplifies why I often lose all faith in people, lol. Liz's ex, Pete, came to stay with us for a couple days. The reason for this is that their mutual friend is the Romanian guy, Adrian, who once hit on me while he was incredibly inebriated in that thick accent of his, proclaiming "Motherf**ker! My parents hate me! I want to f**k you!" Most awkwardly hilarious thing that's ever happened with a guy, just sayin'.
Adrian jumped in front of an eighteen-wheeler recently. Being that they're two of the people that knew him the best and cared about him the most (at least supposedly on Pete's part), it would be natural that Liz would want him around while she's trying to make some sort of peace with the fact that he's gone, forever.
Pete is the ex that broke Liz's windshield and her ribs. This happened a good while back, but it still made me want to hate him immediately. However, Liz asked me to be nice and not kill him and stuff him down the garbage disposal piece by tiny piece, so I decided that I wouldn't. I did, however, consume copious amounts of alcohol because it is the most incredible social lubricant in the world, and makes even people I loathe almost tolerable.
So, whilst we consumed a case of beer (which was sort of disappointing considering as how I couldn't seem to drink fast enough while he talked, lol), he spewed on and on about how much he was still in love with Liz, and wished so bad that he hadn't f**ked it all up, and that he regrets it every day and is certain he'll never feel the same way about anyone else. He even wrote her this long letter that he left for her; he read it to me, and it was all I could do to refrain from running over and deleting it and rewriting it, because Pete is an awful writer. Seriously, how can the sky cry pollinated tears? Pollinated? Did you mean polluted? Because I think perhaps you're so polluted that you got the words mixed up, jackass.
Anyway, so at the time I just really felt sorry for him, because he'd been trying so hard to be really nice to me, and I started to think that maybe he wasn't such a horrid human being after all, so I started being genuinely nice back. Then he starts talking about wanting to kill himself. I spent a couple hours playing therapist, pointing out reasons he should be alive, and pointing out things about he and Liz that he's not perceptive enough to catch. I remained mostly neutral on the issue of he and Liz getting back together, because I was still wary of that. Seriously, who wouldn't be knowing that he smashed her car AND her? Well, after playing therapist, I was a little buzzed and very tired from not sleeping much the night before, so I went to take a nap.
I wake up at about ten that night to Pete, Shannon, Jillian, Dustin, and Nick coming in my door. My initial reaction is one of being invaded; this is my HOME, just who the hell said all of you could barge in here, especially while I'm trying to get some decent sleep? That went away, but then Shannon said something about my job hunting and my reaction was that she was being demeaning about my failure to be gainfully employed yet. Then, I realized she isn't either, and I felt better because it means that it's the pot calling the kettle black. Dustin told me I "look a lot bigger than when I saw you last". Thanks for noticing that I gained back fifteen to twenty pounds, you insensitive bastard. Now I won't eat for two weeks. I then check my text messages and realize that the reason they all showed up is that Pete supposedly tried some method of committing suicide and they all came up here to get him and take him back to H-burg, thankfully. Liz finally gets back, and looks at me weird, then looks at Pete, and then back at me. She wouldn't tell me what she was looking so weirded out about, that is, until they finally all had the courtesy to vacate my f**king house with the crazy bastard in tow.
Liz then informed me that Pete told her a lot of things she thought were very, very fishy. He said that we had been talking about her, suicide, and various shit; true. He then said that I told him he should just go ahead and kill himself; what the f**k?! He also stated that I revealed to him that I didn't intend to ever get a job, pay rent, and intended to mooch off of Liz indefinitely. Okay, what the hell, because Liz has already tried to tell me I don't have to help her with rent and bills but I refuse not to since I'm living here indefinitely with her, even if she did pick this place because it's maintainable if/when I leave. I am seething mad, because it's a great example of what people tend to do to me constantly for whatever reason. They act sweet, caring, and friendly to my face, then mercilessly rip me apart behind my back. Then they show up and pretend to be my friend.
If he ever shows up to my house again, I'm calling the cops and telling them he came after me and I had to stab him to keep him off me. Lie for a lie, bitch, and you DO NOT mess with the best friend I've ever had in my life.
Today was productive. I woke up, and cleaned the entire apartment top to bottom because Liz had been talking about cleaning (even though not much was really dirty). Today she didn't have to go in until four, and she's been working like fifteen hour days. Thus, I figured that if I cleaned everything incredibly thoroughly, like so much so that anything conceivable would only be re-cleaning, then she wouldn't be able to waste her half a day off working her ass off for no good reason, and she would relax. I was semi-right. She got up and was productive, but she did things for herself specifically, like clean her car and wash some of her clothes (which I also would've done if I'd had quarters, lol).
After that, I set out job hunting hardcore. I've applied at several places, and lots in the mall. I'm almost certain I have a job at a cookie store; the lady liked my shiny happy demeanor, and said the only thing is that I'd have to not have my eyebrow ring in while working since it's a kid-friendly place and we live in MS. The Underground seemed interested since I told the guy I really can work however much they want, whenever they want. A lady at the pizza place was so sweet to me. She said she wasn't hiring for a while, that she was sorry, but that I should check with customer service because there was a list of places hiring and the positions they need. I was thrilled at this, and got to go through a big notebook of possible job opportunities after I thanked this woman profusely and hopped over to the customer service desk.
Now, I am scheming. Bigtime. I looked at two jobs in specific that I would KILL for, but I don't exactly meet what they want as far as experience goes. The one I really, really want is at Sleep Number, the place that sells beds, as a sales rep. They say that I should have a year or two of sales experience with big ticket (over 100 bucks) items, and any other qualifications would be a serious plus, like managerial or retail experience. To apply, all I need do is e-mail a copy of my resume to the owner. Tomorrow I will be calling in favors from all of the business owners/managers/professionals I know. I am certain that a few at least would help me bend the truth a little to make it sound more tailored to what Sleep Number is looking for in a sales rep. The others will at least be very convincing references; who doesn't find doctors or lawyers or managers of theatres or business owners a bit convincing? My first boss would gladly make it sound like I was at least a shift manager and handled a lot of responsibility, even if only in foodservice. Liz, who manages a restaurant, would gladly tell them what a hard worker I am (which is true). My mother I'm sure I could convince to make it sound like I handled customers for insurance, which I think counts as a big ticket item; I couldn't convince them I was ever an agent and it would be stupid to try, but I could make it sound like I was the person who pre-handled them, helping them decide what kind of insurance exactly they needed and was best for their situation. My friend Robin could vouch for some managerial experience since we ran a successful and popular website together, and make it sound like we gave tips on and assisted people on a personal level with bettering their writing skills. I might could talk my friend Bennie, who manages a FedEx, to help me out in some way, at least be a character reference. Long story short, NO, I'm NOT actually qualified in the way they want me to be, but damn it, I WOULD SELL BEDS, lol. That's really not that hard, especially when a big part of my clientele will likely be middle-aged to older women draggin' in their hubbies; women, especially lil old ladies, tend to really like me. I was also a psych major, so I have a good deal of experience and education dealing with people and figuring them out on a personal level, which I think is a huge plus for a sales position. I really want this job; it comes with health/dental/life insurance, a 401k plan, discounted merchandise (hey, my family and friends might need a bed sometime), and salary PLUS commissions. I really will do whatever it takes to fudge up a passable resume and do my damndest to charm the hell out of whoever interviews me.
Another job along the same lines is an assistant manager position at Buckle. They want someone with managerial experience, which is where Debbie would really come in handy, because she would totally claim me as a shift manager or something like that. It's also the type of job where it's not a cold throw-in thing; I'd work with the full manager, learn what they expect, help direct and maximize sales, and all that jazz. It also comes with benefits, and I do like the sound of a 40% discount on all merchandise. Yeah I know, right, it's like friggin' half off, lol. My only real worry with this job is that I'm not skinny, pretty, and fashionable enough. I would so work my ass off for it, though, lol.
I'm convinced that if I play this just right, and get the right people to back me up, I can pull it off. I know that with the sales rep job, I could learn very quickly and do well enough that they wouldn't fire me immediately at least. The assistant manager position at Buckle is trickier, but the way they worded what they were looking for and job expectations, I'm sure that I could learn fast enough to look like I'm just adjusting to working as an assistant manager in retail as opposed to foodservice, especially if the full manager is going to be helping me learn what they expect my responsibilities to be specifically.
I need this break so bad. I would be okay working at the cookie place, and if these two don't go through at all, then it'll be okay. But guys, I would feel so much better about life knowing I had a truly decent job as opposed to a really low-level foodservice job. I would have insurance, and not have to worry about the next time I get bronchitis or when I go get my meds having to cough up 110 bucks. With a 401k, I would feel more secure. With salary, I would know I would make money, and with commissions, I'd be constantly motivated to do my best at my job and sell every mofo that walks in a bed. I could pay rent, pay off my credit card, pay off my computer, all that. I could actually get my mom something decent the next time her birthday or Mother's Day rolls around instead of calling and being like "I love you, but I'm a destitute dropout failure who can't afford to even get you Wal-Mart jewelry". And the really big one... I could get a car.
Wish me luck, please, and if you have ANY ideas or advice, PLEASE don't hesitate to tell me. I could use all the help I can get with this, and I'd be forever grateful regardless of outcome.
I was reading this silly book of quotes, but I picked out some that I actually kinda like. Feel free to stop reading here, because from here on I'm just listing the quotes, and I know this was a crazy long entry already.
People don't just go to work to acquire, they go to work to become. -Dan Zadra
Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is. It is her shadow. -Ambrose Bierce
Give me a place to stand, and I will move the earth. -Archimedes
When written in Chinese, the word crisis is composed of two characters. One represents danger and the other represents opportunity. -John F. Kennedy
I do not know the secret of success, but the key to failure is to try to please everyone. -Bill Cosby
Knowing others is wisdom; knowing yourself is enlightenment; mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power. -Lao-Tzu
The entire sum of existence is the magic of being needed by just one person. -Vi Putnam
One friend in a lifetime is much; two are many; three are hardly possible. -Henry Brooks Adams
When you were born you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in such a manner that when you die the world cries and you rejoice. -Ancient saying from India
Leadership is the art of getting someone else to do something you want done because he wants to do it. -Dwight D. Eisenhower
We have not inherited the earth from our fathers, we are borrowing it from our children. -Native American proverb (it reminded me of Liz, hehe)
Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the sculptor. -Alexis Carrel
If a man is called to be a streetsweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of Heaven and Earth will pause to say, here lived a great streetsweeper who did his job well. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
We can do no great things; only small things with great love. -Mother Theresa
No trumpets sound when the important decisions of our life are made. Destiny is made known silently. -Agnus De Mille
When you do right, people will look at you and say 'atta boy. When you do wrong, people will look at you and say ah shit. Always remember it takes at least three 'atta boys to make up for one ah shit. -Only good piece of advice my sperm-donor ever gave me
Might as well just let the wind blow. -My Pepaw's words to my mother while my dad ranted about something stupid