Monday, November 24, 2014

It's all in my mind...?

"COS 09". Licensed under Public domain
via Wikimedia Commons.
So, my kid, Balthazar, texted me last Monday with some good news about school. After effusive huzzahs on my part, it occurred to me I'd not told him about an upcoming business trip which required me to fly and took steps to remedy that lack tout de suite.

You see, I have a terror of flying that demands Xanax to get me through it, and feel compelled to let my kid know when I'm about to go up, up, and away. Mostly because, what if something horrible happened and he learned of my demise with no idea, even, that it was an imminent possibility? I mean, how fucked up would that be? (OK, the whole demise thing's the most fucked up aspect, obvi, but still, I imagine the shock would be exacerbated if you didn't know that your loved one was even flying anywhere, yeah?)

I'm even in the habit of texting him immediately before and after my flights, with the first text invariably reading, "I'm waiting to board my flight to [insert place name]. I love you." ('Cause, you know, just in case those are my last words to him, they should be loving, you dig?) And I text him when I land to let him know I survived being airborne. His replies tend to be, respectively, "Woooo love you too" and "Swag." Because he's a man of few words.

Anyway, to advise him of the business trip I was to embark upon that very week, I intended to text him:
I'm due to fly out to Arizona on Wednesday and due back on Sunday.
Auto-complete, however, saw fit to change a word in that sentence, so that it came out:
I'm due to fly out to Arizona on Wednesday and die...
When I saw that last word, I froze. I felt completely chilled. I FREAKED OUT. I choose to finish the sentence after the word Wednesday and then quietly had a nervous breakdown.

I checked my horoscopes; they warned me about challenges with travel. (No joke.) I whipped out my tarot cards and got messages regarding travel, hassles, shocks, and profound changes. (I'm totally serious.) I suddenly saw the words "plane" and "crash" or "accident" appearing all over the place.


I took TWO Xanax pills on my flight to Phoenix. Apart from a few bumps, it went fairly well. I took care to buckle up as I taxied to/fro the hotel. When I learned that my hotel housed (I kid you not) a venomous Gila monster, I sure as shit kept a respectful distance from its glass case. I double locked my hotel room door. Every time I returned to my room, I checked the closet, bathroom, and balcony. I took note of the folks around me everywhere I went, cellphone in hand, should the numbers 9 - 1 - 1 need engagement. I took hyper-vigilance to a whole. 'Nother. Level.

My return flight SUCKED. We hit turbulence (or it hit us) the whole five-fucking-hours. I again took two Xanax and only just stopped myself from downing a third. I considered booze. I prayed. A LOT. I promised God I'd start going to church again (it's been about a year and a half, I think, since I've attended mass regularly).

I survived the flight. But my nerves are SHOT.

Was it all in my mind, this terror which cast a serious pall over a trip to which I'd been looking forward with pleasure? Surely, the inciting text planted the seed of "Holy shit, I'm gonna DIE!" which my fertile imagination nurtured to full bloom. But, in my own defense, though the overwhelming strain I felt from the moment auto-complete fucked with my fragile little mind may have sprung illogically, the things I feared were worthy of the emotion. Planes and cars do crash. People commit unspeakable atrocities against one another. And gila monsters are deadly.


I'm exhausted, peeps. And I'm grateful that I've no work-related reason to fly anywhere any time soon. Though I'd better see my doc about a Xanax refill. Just in case.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Words, wOrds, WoRDS

I feel a little badly about making y'all do my blogging work for me. But not badly enough to write a more substantive post, about a round of Words, wOrds, WoRDS?

Using the Random Word Generator at, I'm going to toss out a word and you're going to share the first thing that comes to your mind, in the comments section below.

Here it comes, y'all—today's random word is...


To learn what came to my mind, select the darkened text between the asterisks.


Two things: Billy Idol's song "Got To Be a Lover" AND my desperate need for Carol and Daryl (from The Walking Dead) to resolve their sexual tension and do the horizontal mambo already, for fuck's sake. Literally. I mean, COME ON!!!


Go on, then. Reveal unto the world what that word inspired in your little gray cells.

If you dare...

Monday, November 10, 2014

Winners & Booty Rap!

And the three qualifying participants in my Resurrection Blogfest III, who were selected (via to win one of two prize options are:

Heather Gardner from The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Colleen Chen from Colleen's Write Brain

Hannah from Adventurous Tiger

Mazel tov! E-mail me at aoorooo at gmail dot com to let me know whether you prefer to receive a $20 Amazon Gift Card OR a copy of my book, That Fatal Kiss, + book swag, as pictured here (it's OK to go for the gift card, honest). ;-)

And thanks to all for participating, as well as the readers who supported, and continue to support, writers (and, indeed, artists of every stripe). Now, onto the Booty Rap...

I was an avid fan of Saturday Night Live through the 80s and a good portion of the 90s, then sort of dropped off watching regularly, at some point. This year, I happened to catch this season's premiere as I chillaxed in my hotel room (from some business trip or other) and just LURVED the "Couple's Booty Rap" sketch. If you need a laugh, check it out (but be careful if you're at work!). Note: it may take more than a few seconds to load, but it's totes worth it.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Iiiiiiit's BAAA-AAACK!!!!!!! (Resurrection Blogfest III)

Today is the day! My third bloggiversary! AND my...


YES! Today, participants in this blogfest will BRING OUT THEIR DEAD!

Posts, that it. If you require further elucidation, clicketh hither.

But if you're ready for some reanimated blog posts, read on.

To celebrate my third year of blogging (!!!), I'm resurrecting my Valentine's Day post (published on 2/10/14), in which I wax poetic about "What love is." I was going to bring back a post in which I bitched about crimes against grammar but reckoned that, as an author of romance dark and whimsical, I might be best served by accentuating that which is warm and fuzzy. But if you'd rather read a rant, thither thou goest. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and please do be sure to check out the other participants' resurrected posts (see linky list all the way down). The three qualifying bloggers who'll be selected at random to win either a $20 Amazon Gift Card OR my book and some book swag will be announced on Monday, November 10, 2014 (God willing). (If you're just learning about this blogfest, it's not too late to sign up ~ you've got till 11:59pm on November 7 to do so and follow the rules to qualify!)

And now...onto the revivified post!

*          *          *

What love is...
By Durdana shoshe (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0
via Wikimedia Commons
In a previous post, I bitched about how ruinous loving is. And it is.

But that's not all it is.

In my late 30s, I began to draw parallels between romantic and paternal love. Not in an Oedipus/Electra kinda way, 'cause that's gross. The love my parents (who are not perfect people) show me and my sis, and even more, the love I feel for my son, is straightforward and manifests in obvious ways:

  1. Love looks out for you, as regards basic needs and comforts (food, rest, shelter, chocolate*).
  2. Love needs to see you well and happy.
  3. Love wants you to feel better ASAFP when you're not well, whether it's from physical, mental, or emotional trauma.
  4. Love shares with you, without conditions or expectations.
  5. Love laughs with you.
  6. Love does for you.
  7. Love accepts the feelings of anger, disappointment, and sadness you engender, but will always want to hold you close again (eventually; but the wait shouldn't be too long).
  8. Love waits for you to get your head out of your ass and apologize for whatever heinous fuckery you've perpetrated.
  9. Love understands that you may never apologize and forgives you anyway.
  10. Love may hurt you, but it'll want to fix that hurt, too, even when it doesn't understand WTF your problem is (see #2).
  11. Love wants to touch you (to the degrees appropriate to your relationship).
  12. Love wants you to want its touch (see parenthetical statement in #11).
  13. Love recognizes and respects that you are your own person.
But the critical factor of real Love: You don't have to work for it, you don't have to earn it; it's just always there for you. Always.

Now, in my early 40s, I feel that's what I should expect, when it comes to romantic love: obvious demonstrations of love that don't demand anything extraordinary of me, and a well of that same feeling within me for the other person, one that never runs dry.

And lots of exhausting, mind-annihilating, earth-shaking, God-revealing sex. Of course.

Maybe romantic love won't happen for me.

But I believe it happens.

Wishing you all Love, now and forever.

*chocolate is totally a basic need.

*          *          *
Resurrection Blogfest III Participants!

Mister Linky's Magical Widgets -- Thumb-Linky widget will appear right here!
This preview will disappear when the widget is displayed on your site.
If this widget does not appear, click here to display it.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...