How Come Our Special Place is Never Where We Are?

I really should be in bed. It's 2 a.m. and I'm starting to get philosophical. Not a good sign.

I was going through my email (don't even let me begin to tell you how that's all screwed up because of adware...ahhh...another story for another time) and in my writing group, they were talking about wanting to be in certain places and one of the members asked why is it that our special place is never where we are?

Quite an interesting subject.

When I was young, I traveled a great deal. When I married, my husband and I traveled somewhat. But, for the last twenty years, I have stayed in the same area. It's not the kind of area I envision my dream place to be, but if that is so, why have I stayed here?

There is a big wide world out there with loads of possible destinations in which to hang up my hat, but why is it that I've given up on the hope of ever getting there?

I think it's my age. I'd love to live somewhere else but do you realize what that would involve? Relocating is not for the faint of heart. Or is that feint? I don't know, but I do know that I've become somewhat "settled" in my boomer chick life, and besides that, my special place changes so much that just settling for where I am now seems to be my non-intentional destination to hang that proverbial hat.

Just last year, I wanted to live in the mountains of Tennessee. Last week, I was actually contemplating moving to Las Vegas. What is going on here?

Hm...let's see...mountains, desert, mountains, desert.

Now you see why I've stayed in the same place for the last twenty years? I can't make up my mind!

I think, though, that people envision these special places to live as a means of an escape. It's nice to think of wonderful places to live and we let our imagination take us there, but is that the way life really is? Is the grass really greener on the other side?

I don't know. I'll probably stay here for the rest of my life, dreaming of places to live, but you know, I think the real truth of the matter is we're never happy with where we are and that's why we travel to different places, trying new things out and the end results are we are never satisfied. Never happy. Once we get to our dream destination, it's never really the same as we envisioned it, is it?

Well, it's time to nod off for the night. Night John Boy.

I Am Getting Soooo Psyched

Christmas is FINALLY over and now I can turn my attention to this trip to Las Vegas coming up.

I have no idea what will be on our agenda but one of the highlights will be in traveling to the California state border and maybe even take a trip to one of the cities within the state, who knows.

I was looking up on Mapquest.com for which towns I would be traveling through to get to the border and it seems to me that Spring Valley is the first one. That's a picture of it over to the right. Isn't it simply breathtaking?

Look at that sky. Look at those mountains!!!

Anyway, I've not been blogging the past few days because I've been working my butt off, plus exploring ways to make my own ebook cover. My ebook "How to Find and Keep Your Soul Mate" is in dire need of a new cover, so I checked out this program called RealDrawPro. It's tricky. Not bad once I get used to all the gizmos and thingamabobs. I still can't figure out a few things but I'm going back in and try.

I was playing around with it and I came up with a cover that will do until I can get one better made. It's to the right there somewhere. How do you like it? If you want to see a better picture of it, go here.

I'm also in the process of writing a free ebook with soul mate facts...sort of a freebie to give away when someone buys my other one. I'll need a cover for that, too...groan....

I still haven't heard from this agent for my hen lit book. It's been one month, eighteen days, twelve hours, fifty-five minutes and thirteen seconds, but then again, who's counting?

And I'm just about done with my non-fiction relationship book, "Are You My Soul Mate? Demystifying and Identifying the Soul Mate Relationship." Kinda neat title, huh?

The Party's Over...

The stockings are emptied and the turkey carcass bares a slight resemblance to the beautiful bird it once was and I am pooped.

It was a nice Christmas, but I'm sure glad it's over. Time to get back to work!

I've already got a few things brewing in my head on what I want to accomplish in the next few months. The soul mate how to book will be finished and I'm going to get back into my hen lits.

Also, in my writing group, we're talking about doing up some ebooks to give away for promotion starting with Valentine's Day. We're already talking about a Christmas ebook for next year. I already know how to put together an ebook so that shouldn't be any problem and I look at this as a great way to show everyone what a great writer's group I have. I'm so proud of'em.

Anyway, I've got to do something to keep my mind off waiting for word from this agent. Still haven't heard anything. It's been one month, fifteen days, five hours, twenty minutes and thirty-two seconds, but, hey, who's counting?

Ooooh, I have a new pet. It's a virtual pet, but I figured that I needed a mascot to give me good luck. It's Fluffy. From the Sisterhood book. That the agent will just love and send me an acceptance letter for. Or phone call. Or email. Or pigeon, doesn't matter.

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!!!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my dear friends who have stuck by me throughout the year. It is because of you I feel that I'm not alone in this big cyber-world and that there are friends out there whom I've never met, yet we share a bond whether it is through writing, talking about our crazy families or just having someone to tell our troubles to. We laugh and cry with each other and build each other up when we're down. It's simply amazing.

I won't bore you with silly little things like telling you how much I care about you or even telling you how much you mean to me, but oh what the heck, I really do. Sniff....sniff...

But, while we're all snuggled up to our families tonight, let's reflect on what a great gift life is and thank our creator for letting us become a part of a world where believe it or not, there is indeed happiness and hope. All we have to do is open our eyes.

I wish every one of you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday and don't forget...

I love all of you and hope that the new year brings you joy, happiness, and above all, peace and good tidings. Of course, that book contract wouldn't be so bad either. *wink*

Deflated, Decharged and Over the Hill

I thought I'd never admit it. In the words of Bunny Whimpelton, one of the protags in my hen lit book, "Some baby boomers we are, huh? We're deflated, decharged and over the hill."

Exactly my words (no pun intended).

I've been honked at, trampled on, cursed at and this is before I get out of the driveway.

I'm talking about those luntics that we commonly call "Last Minute Shoppers." I know because I'm out there.

I will admit I'm not the fastest driver out there, nor am I the wellest as I've been nursing a cold which wants soooo badly to turn into bronchitis, but I'm a trooper, and well, I needed a few more things for under the Christmas tree.

Last minute stuff. Stuff like what no one tells me they want until the last minute stuff.

"I would love a new, bigger bird cage for Floyd" kind of stuff.

Ack.

So, my daughter and I head out yesterday, thinking that the last minute shoppers will wait until Christmas Eve just before the stores shut down to show their frustrated, angry faces, but nooooo...they're early. Early Last Minute Shoppers who don't want to be out there on the roads any more than I did.

You have to understand our destination. Salisbury, Maryland, is a somewhat small city. No backups unless you hit rush hour which wasn't until hours from the time I hit it, yet you would think we were in the middle of NY City. And they were crazy! They were zipping in and out, growing impatient with my gotta-abide-by-the-speed-limit-driving and where I am nursing a cold-almost-pneumonia, I was tired before we even got out of the car.

Inside the stores was a nightmare. I will spare you the gory details. Go out there right now and look into these people's eyes. They're downright sinister-looking.

I believe this is called last-minute-shopping-anxiety. You have one thing to get and they had this 'I'll be damned if the certain store I knew it was in didn't have it so I'm searching through every damn store all over the city to find it kinda look'. Last minute shopping at its best.

Today I feel like a mack truck has run over me. And I have so much to do. Clean. Wrap presents. Clean. Wrap presents.

Merry Christmas everyone and hope you weren't one of those I flicked off in the mall for butting in front of me. I don't know what came over me. I'm really a nice person. Honest.

Send in the...NUTCRACKERS

Yikes, five days until Christmas. Anyone out there in BlogLand ready?

Speaking of Christmas, in my writing group, where we talk about just anything, we were talking about how clowns were absolutely the scariest things and it reminded me of a story about when my Used-to-Be-Adopted-Daughter (long story) first moved in with me. She's out there on her own now but I'll never forget the night I learned the one thing she was most fearful of - NUTCRACKERS.

I have loved nutcrackers from as far back as I can remember, but it was only in the last few years I seriously started collecting them. I'm not sure how many I have but it's enough to make you sit up and take notice when you come into my living room at Christmas time.

I've got all kinds from the usual to the unusual. I've even got a Goldilocks and a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Not half as scary as clowns and they sure light up the living room.

At Christmas, I take them out of the attic and line the taller ones in front of the Christmas tree and the smaller ones on top of my computer table and my bookcase. I don't even know why they intrigue me so, but I just love them all.

However, my Used-to-Be-Adopted Daughter never shared my love for nutcrackers and found them akin to Chuckie Dolls, and I'm not talking about the Rugrats.

When she first moved in here, she had to sleep on the sofa right beside the Christmas tree. As she didn't want to make a scene, she casually asked me if I could turn the nutcrackers facing the wall so that they would not be staring at her.

I thought it was hilarious, but as she was already traumatized, I did it.

Granted, she was 22-years-old, but if I had an army of clowns staring at me while I was trying to go to sleep, I would have nightmares for a year.

But, one night, after she had gone to sleep, I did something that will probably cause me to have bad karma the rest of my life.

I took the tall nutcrackers and lined them in front of her, facing her, so that when she woke up, they'd be staring straight at her.

When she awoke the next morning, an army of nutcrackers greeted her and I've never heard a scream so loud in all my life.

Needless to say, her stay at my house only lasted a couple years but it was fun while it lasted.

Happy Birthday, Dallas!

There comes a time in a person's life when they find someone that touches them so and that someone just so happens to be celebrating a birthday today. His name is Dallas but he goes by FTS. I'm not even sure if Dallas is his real name...he's so secretive. But while he may be secretive about his identity, he's not secretive about the love he has for mankind as shown through his many blog postings I have read in the short time I have known him.

I'm not even sure how I found his blog, but am I so glad I did. I was astounded at the number of people who faithfully read it. And I can understand why.

FTS, or Dallas, or whatever, writes with the true humor spirit. I swear he must be channeling the great humorists who have seen better humorous times and is up above beaming down humorous thoughts into his little Dallas head. But, whatever or wherever it comes from, he's got it.

After I commented a few times on his blog, I was itching to email to tell him how great a humorist he was. I write humor, also, and have started many, many books on the subject and one day they'll actually, if the humor publishing gods are with me, be published, but I didn't want Dallas, FTS, Whatever, to slip away without me telling him how great he was.

He took it like a true blue hero. And started.

I'm not even sure how far he's come on it, but he's started on a book that is going to make Dave Barry look like that guy on American's Funniest Videos that isn't funny (can't blame him, though, blame the writers).

But, anyway, it's his birthday today and I would greatly appreciate it (you won't be sorry once you get there) if you'd go over to his blog and wish him a Happy Birthday. Tell'em Dorothy sent you and while you're there ask him how his book is coming. Gotta keep the little guy going. Especially when he'd rather cook sweaters in his microwave.

Having a Celebrity Moment

"You're the one who wrote the soul mate book, aren't you?"

I was minding my own business, trying to watch the Grinch save Christmas and waiting for my relief to come relieve me of my boredom so that I could finally go home and get some real work done and the words "soul mate book" alerted me to the fact that someone out there in Realityville was talking to me.

Just as they were about to get the good part where Cindy Lou was trying to talk the Grinch into coming to Whoville to accept his "Cheer" Award, someone stepped closer and said, "It is you. I recognize your picture on the back."

Well, hel-lo, I was experiencing a celebrity moment and didn't even realize it.

"My book?" I asked, keeping one eye on this weird person and another on Cindy Lou.

"Yes, my boyfriend gave it to me."

Well, that was neat and all that being as my damn book isn't in any bookstore in any land outside of Whoville.

"Uh, may I ask you where he bought it from?"

"I have no idea," she said. "But, I love it. I've almost read all the stories and my boyfriend and I are definitely soul mates."

Well, for fear of being Grouch unpolitically correct, I said to hell with the Grinch and focused on this girl who I had never seen in all my life. This was the first time that anyone where I live (not counting family, friends and those other poor souls that I begged to buy the book) has ever walked up to me, out of the blue and recognized my picture from the back of a book that has been out for over a year.

And, you know what?

I was at a loss for words.

I mean, how do celebrities handle this? Do you say thank you and bore them to tears with all your upcoming books so that you'll have an instant sale when they are released? How do you handle this?

I did thank her. And scribbled my website down on a torn piece of paper. Why in the hell did I do that anyway?

Because I couldn't think of anything else to do.

I'm not used to anyone coming up to me out of the blue like that and I was totally unprepared.

At booksignings, you're prepared. But, not while trying to watch the Grinch on the company's television. And not after you have resigned yourself to the fact that your book will not be on any bookshelf unless you do it by consignment which I absolutely am not going to do. I would rather sell them by hand and make more profit.

So, anyway, after she left, I really felt good. Someone had recognized me from the back of a book. A book that someone had bought them as a gift. A book that took three years of my life to put together. A book that is so special to me that I'll probably put it in my will to put a copy in my coffin with me.

Lord even knows where he bought it, but it's driving me insane trying to figure it out.

After she left, I sighed and sat back down to finish the Grinch and escape back to Whoville. Gotta love that green guy.

I Found My Dream Ornament!!!

Okay, here it is!

It doesn't look EXACTLY like the one I bought but it's the closest I could find on the internet. What this is is a lady from the Red Hat Society. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. My book-to-be has three women, in their fifty-something stages of life, who break bad, do the impossible and live to tell their story. She's kind of cute, isn't she?

I hung her up, said my wish and now it's up to the creator up above to determine whether I deserve it or not. I've done my part. There's nothing more I can do.

The Sisterhood Girls want to go to NY. Please, God, let them have their wish.

The War on Christmas Continues...

Hi, I'm Frannie Foxworthy, standing here at the North Pole with the one and only Santa Claus just days before Christmas when he makes his yearly pilgrimage delivering toys to all the kids in the world. He has granted Foxworthy News this special interview because he has a message he wants to tell the world and you're about to hear that message right now.

"Mr. Claus, thank you so much for granting us an interview right in the middle of peak season. I know you are quite busy right now, but can you tell us why you contacted us and what is this message you want us to hear?"

"Thank you, Frannie, and welcome to my corner of the world. As you can see in the background, my elves are gearing up for my yearly visit to all those good little girls and boys who are waiting for me to visit them, but I have a problem."

"What's that Mr. Claus?"

"I'm afraid I can't make it."

"What do you mean, you can't make it?"

"Well, you see, I was going through this famous tale someone wrote about me called 'The Night Before Christmas'."

"I love that story, Santa!"

"I'm sure you do, as well as I. This story has been told to generations after generations of children, but I'm afraid it's all about to come to an end."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid I've gotten word that the President has outlawed saying 'Merry Christmas' because it offends a certain part of the world. And when I shout, 'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night,' I'm being politically-incorrect. And if Santa is being politically-incorrect, then I just can't set a good example for the children of the world anymore."

"But, Santa, you've been doing this for generations and generations!"

"I know, but the world has changed. Before you know it, they'll outlaw me even, saying that I represent something that some part of the world doesn't believe in anymore. I don't want to offend those who don't believe and I certainly can't be politically-incorrect. I may not be what some people think I am, but I'm certainly not a hyprocrit.

"So, I'm getting out before it comes to that."

"But, what about the children? What about when they get up and there's no presents under the Christmas tree for them?"

"Don't you see, Franny? Eventually, they're going to change the name altogether anyway. The Christ in Christmas offends a certain percentage of the population and the President must keep those votes, too. It's all about politics, don't you see that?"

"You mean you think that one day there won't be a Christmas?"

"Oh, there will be a Christmas, but the name will change. I'm not sure what they're going to call it. They've got top brass talking about it now but it's all top secret."

"But, what will you do, Santa, if you can't do what you've been doing for thousands of years?"

"Maybe it's time I gave it a rest. Before long, they'll outlaw me, too, so I'm thinking of a new vocation."

"New vocation?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking about going back to school and making something of myself. Try out a profession where I'll make lots of money and can buy all those material possessions that I've been painstakenly making by hand. See what's it's like to have things handed to me instead of making them myself. Receiving instead of giving. It's a new concept that I'm not sure whether I'm going to like or not, but as they say, you can't fight city hall."

"I don't know what to say, Santa."

"You don't have to say anything. Santa knows what you are thinking and I know what the rest of the world is thinking. Maybe I'll become a psychic, who knows. But, Ms. Foxworthy, I do want to say this. All this crap about the holidays is getting on my nerves and I've had it. People aren't happy unless they change this, change that, but who am I? A lowly pilgrim just trying to make the children happy. My world doesn't exist anymore. I'm not sure what the new world is going to be like, but I have a choice. I can either join it or not. I have no choice. Even though we live in a democratic age, our choices are being squashed like a June bug. So, I believe I need to hang up the suit and put Rudolf out to pasture because there is no need for me anymore."

"Santa?"

"Yes?"

"Can I still believe in you?"

"Of course you can."

Santa got real low and whispered into my ear out of the earshot of the microphone and said, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

(Please feel free to post a link to this article on your blog or wherever else you'd like to help us to save Christmas!)