Counter intuitive things to be thankful for

Yes I'm doing a Thanksgiving blog: surprise surprise. But since I can't seem to do anything in a standard fashion, I thought I'd mix things up a bit. Things that I'm thankful for that perhaps I shouldn't, or just that seem counter intuitive.

I am thankful for:

Being laid off.
Being divorced.
Being virtually homeless.

These surely aren't things most people would categorize in the thankful category but for me they all represent one thing: Freedom (I can hear Mel Gibson screaming it...yeah it's that important to me too.)

This freedom from the daily grind, mortgages and rent gives me the opportunity to write and explore the world. It enables me to give writing and traveling a chance.

I know this wouldn't work for everyone--hello, I have a huge freaking family and friends that live all over the country and want me to come visit them. But for anyone that wants to travel and is laid off--see how much you can do without and see about taking trips on the cheap.

There are a lot of websites out there for people who don't have spread out friends and family.

Google couch surfing, caretakers gazette, travel writing, house sitting. Heck, even writers who work from home or write when they aren't working a regular job need a break from reality or their own space--even if it is house sitting down the block or in the town over.

www.caretaker.org
www.couchsurfing.com
www.couchsurfing.org
7 Things You Should Know Before Becoming A Digital Nomad
Travel full-time for less than $14,000 per year


Some of these have an annual fee--but that's to keep the riff raff out :-P


Video: Maybe if I lived in this house I'd be more prone to stay in one spot.

Things I learned while in Missouri

While bff's equal muse from a distance, up close and personal is another story.

My bff, CoD, is a wonderful inspiration from afar. She helps push me through rough patches in writing and is my sounding board. This is all over the internet and phone, since we live about 9 hours from one another. However, this past month I've been in her home state of Missouri visiting with her. And what have I gotten done? Barely a days work. Come to find out, hanging out with her is much more distracting and I can't get anything done. How in the world did I convince myself this would be a writing sabbatical?

Missouri is a seriously mouse having state. (How I learned that I'm not afraid of mice)

Now I grew up in a farm town in Michigan and had a field in front of the house and woods in the back... yet the extent of my rodent experience was seeing a shrew at work and not until age 27. Then enter Missouri... and it's mouse freaking central. The house I'm staying in--a nice, well kept home. And there is a mouse. It scurried across the kitchen floor and under the cabinet. I didn't flip out, just thought it was kind of cute. Few days later... saw it running through the living room--still no freaking, just generally wanted to admire its cuteness..

But next... ahhh.... here in lies the true test of my non mouse fear having self. Enter: late night, home by myself. And I have to pee. I walk down the very dark hallway into the bathroom. Un zip, and pulldown. Mid squat (yes, I do love a great visual) something dark runs past my peripheral vision. I freeze. Two weeks ago I found a giant spider in that bathroom. I am totally not getting caught with my pants literally down when trying to erase the world of that spider's life. The dark thing moves again--it is a mouse. So I finish the motion of my squat and relieve myself. I calmly watch the mouse scurry under the vanity and under the tiny gap below the door. I finish, wipe, flush, wash my hands and don't think twice.

That Dollar General has everything you will ever need:

Food? Check.
Chocolate? Check.
Twilight Candy? Double fucking check check checkity check check.
Feminine products? Check.
Brand Name Lash-lengthening mascara? Check
Twilight the boardgame for half the price of Target? Check.
Local curmudgeon to discuss local allergens and turkey feather disasters? Check.
Allergy medicine? Check.

Tattoo prices really do vary so check around if you don't have a certain artist you want.

In addition: decently priced tattoo artists will totally make you wait on them. The appointment time is merely a suggestion to them--but a commandment for you. Don't be late, but bring something to keep you entertained when you arrive on time. Be prepared to wait.

That I truly do have a soul mate out there--it just isn't a romantic one.

CoD and I are both very private people. We're antisocial even... and yet I can spend every day for a month with her and keep looking forward to more. I can read her moods--even through a text message. We are linked by the alignment of the stars, cosmic fish, tea leaves, runes, the throwing of the bones and the skinning of the cats (okay I made the last one up... at least I hope I did) Anyway yeah--we are some seriously linked mofos and neither one of us have ever had a friendship like this before. I like to think of it as fate--but maybe we are just two awesome chicks who finally got what they deserve--an even awesomer (yup I said it) chick to hang out with.

That when you take the screams of terror out of horror movies--they sound a lot like porn. (As heard through a wall)

(This also goes for a lot of video games) Knock Knock, anyone home? *heavy breathing* Hello...? *thump thump thump* *heavy breathing* *footsteps, creaky door opening* *gasp* *yet even more heavy breathing, moans, little squeals of surprise*

Video: This may be what I feel like after I leave Missouri in a few days...

First scene of Book 1: Inevitable

The response has been nil on the writing prompts so I guess I won't give them anymore. Boo!

The following is the opening scene from Book 1 of the Just Sam series: Inevitable

~~~

Every time I'm about to find something incredible, my body takes over, even when my mind knows it should proceed with caution. The scent in the air changes and my vision narrows to see nothing but the dirt before me. I know what lies beneath the layer of soil will more than likely ruin my career, but the smell of pine overrides the trepidation I should've learned well in the rainforest. Nothing makes the single mindedness go away, except to dig my fingers in the ground and ride it out until I discovered what wants to be released from the earth.

Forgoing the brush, I wiped away dirt with my fingers. I gently swirled away the sandy Florida soil, but my fingertips chilled despite the warmth of the earth. I knew I was close. Whatever is buried in this place needs to be touched by a human hand, not a synthetic bristle brush. It didn't spend centuries buried in secret to be treated with the plastic indifference of today's scientists. Archaeologists typically know better.

The dirt moved out of my way so quickly it was as if we were of the same mind. Tingling fingertips made me slow down. Close, we were so close. My hands hovered over the dirt, lying in wait.

“Carlos, grab the camera will you?” I hollered. Carlos, my number two on the dig, was a local worker. Initially, I'd been mad at Orson Naston, my boss, when he gave me all untrained workers, but I found that eager learners were better than workers improperly trained. Short and stocky, Carlos's appearance echoed the rest of the immigrant crew, save his slicked back pompadour. His fluent English is what set him apart and made him the preferred second in command.

He ambled out of the trailer, camera in hand, ready to document the impending artifact. I knew it was here. We were close, better to be prepared now then have to wait to unearth it because the camera sat in the work trailer.

“You find it, Mees Rojo?” Carlos's eyebrows waggled as he used his nickname for me, Miss Red, based on my hair.

“I don't know about it, but I suspect that I'll find something shortly.”

“I know it, Rojo, you found it.”

I stared at my hovering hands, now slightly shaking and tingling with pinpricks of static electricity. “Time to find out what it is.”

“Camera is ready.”

I lowered my hands to the dirt and pushed it away in a sweeping motions to side. Most archaeologists use a brush at this point, but I wanted to be the first to touch it. When it was time to remove it, I'll use a brush. Slowly a white protrusion emerged from the soil. My hands swept the dirt away in a flurry with more and more white appearing.

A gust of wind blew a rogue lock of hair across my face and obscured my vision the moment before I could see the artifact. Wiping the lock away, two deep holes stared back at me from a large animal skull. Pinpricks danced along my skin and I shivered at the intense pleasure pain feeling of the discovery. I stroked the slim bone between the eyes.

Rolling green hills, steep cliffs, deep rivers, tall ships, cold weather and forever to run. A wolf. I was a wolf and I was being hunted.

My rapid breathing snapped me out of my daydream. I breathed out surprisingly cold air from my too tight lungs and I did a double take at the skull. It was a wolf—but it was too big. Way too big. Too big for a Dire Wolf even.

It shouldn’t be in Florida at this stratum. Hell it shouldn’t be anywhere at any strata level, but it most definitely should not be here, by me. And yet I knew if something virtually unheard of or impossible were to surface it'd be right where I was.

I closed my eyes and wished it away.

“Mees Rojo, a dog! You found a dog… Mees Rojo?”

I tipped my head up and looked Carlos in the eye. He was close, especially for a skull so large. The only giveaway that it was a wolf over a dog was the size of the teeth compared to the skull. Domesticated animals didn't need teeth so large.

“Is dog, right?” His eyebrows bounced and his chest swelled. This was his first dig and the first find he was a part of.

“Close, a wolf.” I pasted a smile on my face. I could be excited for him, I swear I could, but I couldn’t help but feeling dread. All I kept thinking was, “Fuck, not again.”

~~~

And now onto the video! This is a very good reenactment of what CoD and I have been up to while I've been here in MO!

Drive to Missouri: $110 Motel for a month: $500 Quality time with BFF: Priceless

Writing Prompt:

I didn't know what to do. Is there a social protocol for when someone's face starts falling off right in front of you?

Update on me:

I am on the road again--imagine that, wanderlust again. Jack Kerouac ain't got shit on me. ;)

I am currently in Missouri with my BFF CoD. She is my muse and helps me edit my work as I write, so you'd think I'd be getting a shit load of writing done right?

WRONG!

Come to find out, hanging with your BFF is a lot more fun than living in a world of my own making--a world of magic and shit ton of hot guys mind you. We've been hanging out every day, every waking moment and some sleeping ones (bff slumber parties are a must) are spent together. And yet, I'm not sick of her one bit--not even remotely, I think it just gets more fun as we go on.

We have gotten some things done however. She's been a wonderful sounding board and we've plotted some excellent changes for the rewrite of book.

Speaking of the rewrite--is it technically considered a rewrite if you write it from scratch... from a blinking cursor on a blank page? Plus the plot is changing, have a completely new villain etc... Me thinks I'm writing a brand new book and the old version was just a glorified outline--a very in depth outline.

Also on the writing front: I'm attempting NANOWRIMO again. http://www.nanowrimo.org/ or National Novel Writer's Month. It is a writing community to help you write a novel--or at least 50k words of one in one month's time, the month of November. I did it in 07 and successfully completed the word count. I fear this year I won't make it. Hell, it's day 4 and I still don't have the amount of words I needed for day 1. Ugh! So many fun distractions!

I hope to catch up soon. At the moment I'm filling in changed plot details in parts I've already written. That could explain my less than stellar word count, but no excuses, hey?

It really comes down to this: my first priority here is hanging with my bff, not writing. I thought it would be different and that I'd get a lot done, since she is my muse, but alas, it isn't meant to be.

Ya know what is meant to be? Never ending idle conversation that is entertaining as hell. Not to mention the private jokes, secret bff language, the straw face, loudly singing oldies in restaurants, dancing like zombies and twilight drinking games. Oh and hot guy pics on the internet!

Should I feel bad that my first priority isn't writing? Probably. Do I? Hell no. I have a limited time with my BFF and I plan to make the best out of it. Am I still making time for writing though? Yes I am, not much, but I am.

So I'm having a blast and being semi-productive. That isn't so bad is it?


The video: A friend of mine brought this to my attention and surprisingly I think it looks great. I tend to dislike zombie movies (cause I'm afraid of them) but this one just tickles my fancy.