September 2009
5 posts
For The Record:
The most ridiculous/rudest/most mind boggling thing said to me in response to sharing that I aspire to write children’s book happened in the lunch room at my last job. I worked at a 501-3 C non-profit credit counseling agency. It is a great company. Perhaps best for its people watching. From a writer’s stand point it is full of great characters. However, from co-worker’s POV only about...
baby tears = bags under mommy's eyes
i ended up writing last night even though i was still sick. i had looseleaf, a grey crayola marker and a clipboard. olllld school. i looove markers. i love clipboards too, they make me feel important.
i think i write differently when i’m not typing but i’m not sure. i can’t write as fast as i can type. so sometimes i get lost and forget what i’m saying because my brain is...
Do I watch too much TLC?
So I’m thinking about a makeover. It goes a couple of ways though and that is where I get confused. On the one hand I am only 25, which I keep having to remind myself is young. It just sounds old considering I still feel 13. I truly loved my thirteenth year but that is an entirely different story. For some reason, I don’t know if it is because I am a mother now, but I feel like 25 is old and that...
Okay so… 12 minutes… and Go!
Its hard to write when the dog is being a bastard. In a way, I feel sorry for him. He used to be the center of the world to us and then we brought home this baby one day and for a month or two he was just an annoyance. We tried our best not to let him know that we felt that way but regardless of our efforts, he was still often left out. Now, almost 5 months later...
i feel queasy about my promise.
Sept. 3, 2009, 9:33 pm PST
I could hug Javi. Truly, I wish I was at least an hour driving distance from him right now. I’d throw the baby in her carseat (she’ll fall back to sleep) jump into the VW Rabbit and haul ass to Javier Bernard. Though, it seems he’s not going by that name anymore. But then, I am not Liz Bergin still, either. Here is the explanation for my urge to embrace my dear...