Category Archives: writing

The Dirty Thirty

On November 1st, my friend and blogging mentor Jan sent out a blogging throwdown challenge to another friend and me:  30 blogs in 30 days. Unbeknownst to me, November is a big month for writers.  Blogging website BlogHer was hosting their “NaBloPoMo” (National Blog Posting Month) challenge, and apparently a whole lot of writers take the month of November to write a 50,000 word novel.  Who knew?  Now mind you, Jan has already done the decathalon of blogging twice by completing 100 bogs in 100 days.  Thirty in thirty days was chump change to her. To me, however 30 in 30 days was a big deal.  But, my pride was at stake and I had some catching up to do if I was going to meet my previous self-imposed challenge of 52 blogs during the course of 2014.  Challenge accepted.

I started the challenge a day late because her challenge was presented to me late in the day and I had company in from out of town.  So On November 2nd, I wrote two blogs and from that day forward, I wrote a blog a day every day thereafter.  Let me tell you, it was haaaaaaaaaaard. There was more than one day that I whined about it to my fellow throwdown companion.  There was more than one night that I sat with my laptop perched upon my lap, cats softly purring at my side, staring at the blinking cursor on my screen for what felt like hours on end.  And twice, I feel that I “cheated” by writing a 33-word challenge – I simply didn’t have the time or the energy to write anything grander than that on those days.

But….but.  I did it, with this entry I have written 30 blogs in 30 days, and I am very excited to have met this challenge!  Not only that, but I actually wrote several pieces that I love.  If I had written at my usual pace of one per week, I would have written four blogs at most – and it is doubtful I would love all four.  But now, I wrote 30, and I think at least five are keepers.  Thus proving the point: the more you write, the better you write. Lesson learned.

As for the clunkers I churned out, I simply offer a sincere apology to my faithful readers.  I know that I clogged up my Facebook feed with daily blog posts and nothing more…who has time to write clever status updates when you have blogging assignments to complete?  I promise I will get back to my old, sassy self starting tomorrow.  In fact, I will start thinking of something hilarious to post right away.

But in case you missed them, or you are wondering what my favorites are from the last month, here they are in no particular order:
1. A Single Girl’s Guide to Not Finding Love
2. Fiddlesticks
3. A Healing Hug
4. Rocking Chairs and Gold
5. I Am Running for Mayor

Thanks for hanging in there with me for the last month, everyone…and happiest of holidays to you!


33 Words of Wonder

He comes to me in my dream, the only place he is allowed to visit.  He saunters in and out as he pleases, and gives me a whisper that leads to a wonder.

33 Words of Wisdom

Rain pelting against the glass. Leaves stuck to the pavement.  Melancholy feelings would be effortless to arouse.  Yet, there is a warmth in my heart that supercedes circumstances.  Hello, gratitude, my old friend.

I Did It!

Well, folks…I did it.  I set a goal, I worked hard, and I made it.  As of today, with this very blog post, I have achieved a goal I set for the year:  52 blogs in 52 weeks.  Except, thanks to the “30 in 30 days during November” throwdown my friend Jan gave me, I finished 6 weeks early.  It might seem small or trite to you, but trust me…it is not easy to find something meaningful and/or entertaining to say 52 times in a year.  Trust me.

This exercise has been good, though.  I’ve enjoyed it a great deal.  I hope that my seven faithful readers have enjoyed it, too.  At the the start of this exercise, I vowed to do two things:  1)  Write a piece of fiction, and 2) Reveal some of my secrets.  I’ve done both, and for the record…fiction was harder.

What I’ve learned is that when you tell your story, you own it.  No one can hold it against you, and most importantly, you can’t hold it against yourself.  I’ve had people tell me that I’m brave for some of my writing, and I appreciate that sentiment.  There were posts that were very hard to publish, and yet, I know I am better for it.  The blog has been part therapy and part entertainment for me.  I have no doubt that I’ll keep going.

So while this year was focused on just writing -making myself, week after week, write and write and write some more, next year needs to bring a new set of challenges.  I feel better about my writing than ever before, but it’s time to put myself out there more, market, and develop a broader base of readers.  It’s time to take it to the next level.

As I reflect back on the last year, I have a few posts that are particularly memorable for me.  In case you missed them, here are some of my favorites (in no particular order and hyperlinked for your convenience – yet another skill I learned this year):

1.  Veronica
2.  Bless His Heart
3.  Baby Carrots and Nail Clippers
4.  It’s Never Too Late
5.  Right on Time
6.  A Single Girls Guide to Not Finding Love
7.  One Happy Memory
8.  Jimmy Crack Corn
9.  The Story I Never Told
10. Bananas Are All The Rage

To those of you who have read my posts…and to those who have furthermore encouraged me…thank you so much.  It’s my honor that you actually care what I might have to say.  I look forward to finding more stories to share.  And if you don’t wish to be featured in my blog, just make sure you never do or say anything interesting or embarrassing in my presence.  I’m getting desperate for material.

Dark and Stormy

Every head turned to look as he entered, strode up to the bar and ordered a “Dark and Stormy.”  She knew from that moment it was going to be a disaster. 

Patty was sitting at the hotel bar trying to nonchalantly drink her Cosmopolitan, pretending to be engrossed at the content on her smart phone.  It had been a long, lonely, death-by-powerpoint kind of day at the conference she was attending on evidence-based dentistry.  Patty had a strict rule that if her employer was going to send her to a conference, the least she could do was attend every session.  Days like these, her integrity really got in the way of her happiness. 

Patty looked up from her phone to watch the exchange between this man and the bartender.  She assessed the bartender to be equal parts bored and annoyed.  “I’ve never heard of a Dark and Stormy,” he said.  The man didn’t just reply, he replied with a sarcastic, sing-songy tone. “Welllll…..first you fill half of the glass with Harp, and the top half of the glass is filled with Guinness.”  The bartender sighed and rolled his eyes.  “The rest of the world calls that a Black and Tan.”  The man paid no attention to the bartender’s snarkiness.  He took a seat right next to Patty and threw down a hundred dollar bill.  Patty assumed, correctly so, that this would only further the bartender’s annoyance.    

Patty took another good look at this man.  It was clear that he was arrogant, maybe even the president of his own fan club.  But it wasn’t clear if he had the kind of arrogance that was masquerading insecurity, or if it was the kind of arrogance that was just plain arrogance.  He was handsome, but more so from his swagger than good looks.  He was dressed better than most people in a hotel bar should be and smelled vaguely like patchouli.  The man looked at Patty, and gave her a wink and a smile.  “A wink? Are you kidding me?” she thought.  She felt blood rush to her cheeks, and as a reflex she turned back to the content on her phone.  She didn’t have the chutzpah to get up and move, although the thought did cross her mind. 

The man was unphased by Patty’s indifference and continued on.  “I’m Max,” he said, extending his hand to Patty. “That’s short for Maximilian.”  Patty tried to feign a smile and looked at  his perfectly manicured hand before reluctantly shaking it.  She instinctively knew this man was trouble, but she couldn’t get away.  It was as if her feet were made of concrete blocks. 

Max looked Patty up and down in a way that made her simultaneously uncomfortable and secretly delighted.  “You look bored,” he said. “Let’s spice things up.”  Max motioned for Patty to follow him as he made his way to a cocktail table off in the corner. Everything in Patty was screaming, “No, no, no!” but for some reason she didn’t hesitate to follow him.  

Max took a sip of his beer and flashed his perfect smile at Patty.  He sorted through the crumpled up change the disinterested bartender had given him and slid a $50 bill toward her.  “I’ll give you this $50 bill if you walk over to that lady in the red dress and tell her you like her ear lobes.”  Patty had never been presented with such a challenge in her life. She looked at Max quizzically and responded.  “What?  Are you kidding me?  Why on earth would I do that?”  Max smiled and nodded before responding.  “It’s fun to mess with people a little bit. No harm in spending our night giving out strange compliments, right?”

Patty felt her heart start to palpitate a little and something came over her.  “Game on,” she said, as she stood up and straightened out her plain gray pantsuit. She took a deep breath, tousled her hair and walked right over to the lady in the red dress, who was sitting with a couple of friends.  “Excuse me,” Patty quipped, “I know this may sound strange, but I’ve been noticing you and…I just wanted to say…I think you have really nice ear lobes.”  The lady looked a little shocked, and then she and her friends shared a throw-back-your-head kind of laugh.  The lady in the red dress cocked her head, looked at Patty curiously, and said, “Thanks…I think?”

Patty made her way back to Max who was proudly holding up the $50 bill for her to retrieve.  “Good girl,” he said. Knowing she had fully earned it, Patty grabbed the $50 bill.  She took her seat and gulped down the remainder of her Cosmopolitan.  She felt a little crazy, and more alive than ever.  

Max and Patty spent the next hour or so presenting each other with compliment challenges.  This little exercise had to be done with a fair amount of discretion, so as to not scare away the patrons or draw the attention of the bartender who was already unimpressed with Max’s antics.  Odd compliments were doled out to strangers, one by one.  “I’ve never seen shoelaces complement shoes so perfectly.”  “You kind of smell like cinnamon toast.”  “Your hair is the exact same color as my cat.”  “The way you drink water reminds me of a swan I once saw in Central Park.”  “I like how your eyes don’t have any crusty stuff in them.”  

Fearing the bartender was onto them, and also a little bored, Max motioned for Patty to follow him out into the hotel lobby.  “Okay,” he said.  “Let’s make a new plan.”  Max surveyed the landscape and pointed in the direction of the Oak Ballroom.  “Look – over there.  It’s a banquet.  Let’s crash it.” 

Patty had been having fun, but she wasn’t so sure about this plan.  She hesitated and just as she did, felt a rumble in her tummy.  “Oh, all right,” she said.  She and Max walked confidently into the ballroom and got in line for the buffet.  They had no idea what group was meeting. While Patty was doing her best to blend in and hope no one noticed her, Max struck up a conversation with the guy in line behind her.  Patty could not believe this guy.  He was fearless. 

Max and Patty sat down at a table with three older, balding white guys.  Must be an insurance seminar, she thought, as she tried to flash them a little bit of a flirtatious smile to keep them at ease with her presence.  They sat in quiet solitude gorging themselves on prime rib, twice baked potatoes, buttery green beans, salad, rolls and cheesecake.  It was a feast, and Patty had to admit that she was perfectly pleased with it.  Max excused himself from the table and left Patty alone with the three older men inquisitively staring at her.  For the second time in a day, she had to pretend to be intently staring at the content on her phone.  She knew this trick was only going to get her so far.  

Max was gone for an uncomfortable length of time, so Patty also excused herself and made her way out to the lobby. Max was comfortably seated in one of the overstuffed chairs with his feet propped up on the coffee table in front of him.  He looked at her, and then at his watch.  “What took you so long?” he asked playfully.  Patty went over and gave him a little shove.  “I am going to kill you, Max!  Don’t do that to me again.”  

Max grabbed Patty’s hand and walked her right out the doors of the hotel.  They stood just outside the doors and this time Max pulled a $100 bill out of his wallet.  He gave a nod to the Mercedes Benz sitting in the front of the hotel, its owners presumably checking into the hotel. “Looks like the owners left the keys in that car.  I’ll give you this $100 bill, if you take that car and move it into a parking spot around the corner.”  Patty couldn’t explain it, but she wanted to prove to Max she was as fearless as he was.  She gave a quick look around and saw no hotel workers or patrons.  She got in the car and, just as Max had instructed, moved it into a parking spot just around the corner.  As she put the car into park, the door flung open and scared the bejeezus out of poor Patty.  It was just Max, though, and he commanded her. “Get out of the car!  We need to make a run for it!”

Max took long, fast strides and got he and Patty safely back in the hotel through a side door.  They ran up several flights of stairs and stopped to catch their breath at the 4th floor landing.  Breathless, with her heart pounding, Patty could not believe herself.  Here she was, in a city she had never been, with a man she had never known, doing things she would have never thought possible.  In a matter of hours, she could barely recognize the former shadow of herself – a mom, a wife, and a dentist from upstate New York.  Now, she was bordering being a criminal and loving every adrenaline-filled minute of it.  She gave no thought to the chaos that was probably ensuing downstairs as a hotel customer came to believe his car had been stolen.  

Max bargained with Patty.  “Just in case someone saw you, you had better come to my room.”  Patty knew he was right, and she knew he was wrong, too.  But if she had any sensibilities left, Patty quickly discarded them and followed suit. She followed Max right into his room, and watched him strip down to his boxer briefs and pour each of them a stiff drink from the mini bar.  It took not a single word, only a nod and a smile, for Max to convince Patty to strip down to her skivvies, too. He took her in his arms and spent the next three hours fulfilling Patty in a way she wasn’t sure had been done in the 38 previous years of her life.  Exhilarated and spent, Patty fell asleep nestled in Max’s chest. 

When Patty awoke at 5:00 a.m. the next morning, she sat up in a straight panic. The room was dark and she was disoriented.  It took her a moment, but she quickly remembered all of the crazy things she had done the night prior.  She felt next to her in the bed and it was empty.  She got up to turn on the bathroom light, and realized that Max and all of his belongings were gone.  The only remnants left in the room providing evidence of Max’s one-time presence were his empty cocktail glass and a used towel on the bathroom floor.  Patty realized she didn’t know a single thing about this man who had provided her with the most dangerously delicious night of her life, and now he had left her without a trace. Disheartened, sad and ashamed of her gullible nature, Patty made her way back to her own room.  

Quickly returning to her true form, Patty showered, put on her sensible black slacks and prepared for another day of conference sessions on oral cancer detection and implant prosthetics.  She made her way downstairs and searched high and low for signs of Max, to no avail.  Dutiful as ever, Patty attended each conference session scheduled for the day and even stayed for the closing plenary session.  Each time the door to the conference room opened, her heart raced in anticipation of Max’s arrival; each time she was sadly disappointed.

Patty returned to her humble home in upstate New York that night and was warmly welcomed home by her husband and two little girls.  They were accustomed to Patty’s predictable ways and never seemed to long for anything more.  In time, Patty found her way back into her regular life and only felt the occasional pang of guilt and loss when Max and his crazy, unpredictable antics would flash through her mind.  

Months later, Patty was making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup on a rainy Saturday afternoon when her smart phone chimed.  She picked up the phone to read the text message before her:  “You stir soup with the precision of an Amish woman making butter.”  Patty’s heart practically leaped out of her chest.  She looked out the window and saw Max leaned up against his car – the same Mercedes Benz he had convinced Patty to move at the hotel so many months prior.  He gave her a confident, knowing nod and flashed that smile of his that always equated trouble.  She looked back sorrowfully at her husband and children playing Chutes and Ladders in the next room.  Not knowing how he had found her, but knowing she was not capable of making any other choice, Patty walked out the door and smiled back at Max. “The tires on your car are the most perfectly round tires I’ve ever seen.”