Post 996 – The Countdown

Happy Wednesday!

Yup, as you can see, we’re now counting down, or up, to the magical 1,000 blog post! Yay! *throws itty-bitty bits of paper into the air otherwise known as confetti* Yay!

Okay, I’m done. Obviously we’re at post 996. I can’t even fathom what I could’ve wrote 995 posts about. *thinks* I’m pretty sure most of them were about writing, men, music and other goofiness. But I did it and y’all probably know me better than people I work with. In fact, I guarantee y’all know me better than my coworkers. I can’t exactly sit around with them and extol the virtues of a half-naked man because I think there’s probably a law about that somewhere.

Anyway, because today is What’s Playing Wednesday, I have to do something completely goofy (which is totally me by the way) and go with a song that I can’t abide simply because I heard it so much in my youth. Now, the worst part about this song is I thought I left it behind in the 80s. I really did. But when I was in college hanging out at my friend’s house, his younger brother arrived with his music blaring, showing us all how cool he was. And you know what song was screaming out at us from his speakers? Yup, this one.

So enjoy a flashback to a time when keytars were awesome (which they’re totally not) and you had big hair, or you went home. Yup, here it is…Europe “The Final Countdown”.

Veterans Day

I’m going to keep today’s post short. Mostly because I forgot about it until just now. I know, I’ve become such a horrible blogger! But I have so much going on, it’s easy to forget a lot of things.

Like giving thanks to the people who serve and have served our country. I’m sure I might have mentioned this before, but a lot of men in my family have been in the military. My grandfather joined the Army Air Corp right before World War II and was actually on his way to Hawaii when Pearl Harbor was attacked. I don’t remember many of his stories except that he hated pineapples after his stint there and he got to dance with Grace Kelly for a few seconds as part of a USO show. I thought that was pretty awesome.

My stepfather’s dad did a stint in Europe at the same time. Normandy Beach and I remember sitting with him and listening to his stories although I couldn’t tell you what they were. I just liked to listen to him talk and look at his medals. I thought that was pretty awesome too.

My uncle was an MP in the Army, stationed in South Korea. He doesn’t talk much about those days, although I think whatever he saw and did over there eventually brought him happiness because he met his wife there. Sure, they’ve endured a lot since then, but they’ve always had each other and I think that’s amazing.

My stepdad joined the Navy when he graduated high school. He became a Seabee. I used to laugh at his stories because part of the basic training was swimming and he couldn’t swim. When it was his turn to dive into the pool and do his thing, he dove straight for the side and sort of floated until he got to the other side. He totally cheated, but he did his thing and went to Vietnam. I was lucky to have gone to his company reunion when I graduated from high school. I say lucky because I got to meet the men who were in the pictures he brought back from Vietnam with him, talk to the people he talked about rarely. And they were great. We watched old slide shows of the guys’ time there and listening to them rag on each other, get choked up about someone they lost…It was touching. It wasn’t the senior trip my fellow classmates had, but it gave me a new appreciation for our military.

They sacrifice so much for the citizens of our nation. They give pieces of their hearts, their souls to doing what so many of us wouldn’t even think about doing. And they do it with pride, honor. That’s something everyone should respect and be grateful for. Because while everyone is born to take, not all of us are born to give and that’s what our veterans and current service men and women do. They give and give.

So today, I’d like to give my thanks to them all. To the veterans who keep our history alive with stories they share with the next generations, to the families and friends who’ve lost loved ones fighting for freedom, to the men and women who are serving now, doing their best to keep us free, there aren’t enough words to thank you for what you’ve done. But you have my thanks all the same.

Rockin’ the Rose Tattoo

I actually don’t have a rose tattoo. It was never an image I wanted, but yes, I do have tattoos and I want more. Isn’t that always the way of things? There’s something almost hypnotic about being under the needle. Yeah, I’m aware that to non-tattooed people it sounds weird, but there it is.

Even better, tattoos are monuments set into skin, art that tells the story of a person’s life. It could be something as simple as a silly Disney character you had done when you were drunk to a well-thought out tattoo in memory of a lost one. They tell stories, they show who you are and what you’ve done. I have three and I remember each one. They aren’t memorial tattoos, but abstracts but I remember the person I was when I got each one.

The first was my big dare in college. The second was after college when I also got my tongue pierced. It’s actually my favorite tattoo of all. The third was done about 7 years ago. I got it with a friend who was getting her first. I have more planned and as soon as I can find the money, I’ll get them done.

And Dropkick Murphys wrote a song about tattoos, what they mean to the person who has them. Yes, I know there are people out there who regret their ink, but for the most part I think most people look back at them to remember that brief freeze frame in time. At least I do. I think back to the kid I was, the person I was growing into and I think of them fondly.

So here’s “Rose Tattoo” by Dropkick Murphys. It’s a great song and one I have to sing along with everytime.

Sweet Freedom

Mostly.

I had a productive weekend. Not to brag or anything. But it’s been a while since I had a weekend where I was able to send off a story for my critique partners to be looked over, get them back, revise as requested, send the story off the my editor for final proofreading and beta read my friend’s story. Oh and add 3k to the WIP that I’ve been working on since June.

That story still isn’t ready but 35k is a good milestone to reach. I figure if I can churn out another 10k a week, it’ll be ready to send off to my CPs and betas before September ends. Which means it’ll still be past my deadline, but it’ll be finished and that’s all that matters, right? Of course, I probably have more people who have to read this story than the other. Mostly because we’re all in this together. Kind of like a continuous line of conjoined twins, all attached at the hip, if one of us goes down, we all go. Heh. How’s that for morbid?

Other than that, the weekend was pretty good. The Saints won in a spectacular game against the Falcons. I mean…okay I admit I may have dozed off during halftime. What? I’d had beer, doughnuts and was sleepy! I woke up when things got exciting. And stayed glued to the edge of my seat while the Matt Ryan took the Falcons down the field into Saints’ territory in the last 2 minutes of the game. They got to the goal line. Six points down and there’s only one thing they can do: go for the touchdown. No field goal would work to put them in the lead. They needed 6 points to tie and the extra point to pull ahead.

Matt Ryan went back and launched the ball in the end zone…Only to have the ball deflected and intercepted by the Saints.

I was screaming my fool head off. I was going in-sane, y’all. I hate when the Saints lose, but when we lose to the Falcons, or Cowboys, Bears or 49ers, it’s like being sliced with the biggest piece of paper ever and someone then pouring a nice salty lemon juice solution over the cut. Yeah, it hurts. It’s been years since the Cowboys, Bears and 49ers have been in our division, but I remember the 80s…and the blackouts and when the Saints were Ain’ts and it hurts when we lose to them now. But for the Falcons to beat us? Meh, it’s that lemon juice solution times a thousand. Those Dirty Birds…Meh. But we won, so I can be happy!

Right? But it’s Monday and Mondays suck. I wish I was home in my bed. How about y’all? Is anyone else suffering from football hangover from gorging themselves on the first full weekend of football in months? Anyone?

Kicking It Old Skool

It’s Friday! Yay! Is everyone jumping up and down with happiness? I am. And not just because last night Peyton Manning got me 120 points in my fantasy football league. Oh no, I’m happy because it’s Friday and I can write this weekend. Okay, I’m only writing on Saturday because Sunday is more football, but I have planz y’all.

But there’s more going on than football. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. First of all, the Living Dangerously Scavenger Hunt Blog Hop is still going on and you don’t want  to miss that! I’m even giving away reader’s choice of my backlist of books, which is small potatoes compared to the grand prize. Be sure to check it out!

And as if that isn’t enough, I’m holding a Fan Appreciation giveaway on my Facebook fan page. All you have to do is be a member of my fan page (which happens to boast some hot men). I’ll pick a random person at the end of the month to win some swag. Best thing about this giveaway is that it’ll take place every month, so there’s endless chances to win! Sweet, huh?

It isn’t as sweet as the song I’m pulling out of the vaults for y’all today. To be honest, I can’t take the credit for this week’s pick. When I was at physical therapy this week, my therapist was telling us about the fishing rodeo held on Grand Isle. He said, “You’ll never guess who played the rodeo the past two years…2 Live Crew.” I was shocked. I mean, I guess I figured they had their moment in the spotlight and disappeared like most groups in the 90s were supposed to. But apparently they’ve been performing here in Louisiana with Juvenile. Who knew?

Then this sweet 16-year-old girl asked, “Who’s 2 Live Crew?”

And I felt old because back in the day they were the baddest of the bad. Anyway, since that conversation, every morning I’ve gotten ready for work, I’ve been rapping this song. I was in 7th grade when it came out because I distinctly remember going to a sleepover and singing it with my friends. *shudders* God forbid if I heard my 11-year-old niece singing this song. I’d probably beat her ass.

So for all us oldies, here’s a Freaky on Friday song: 2 Live Crew with “Me So Horny”. I feel all…nostalgic and shit.

 

 

Not Quite Radioactive

Last week I shared one of the annoying songs I had to listen to this summer. I make it sound a lot worse than it was. My cousin’s daughter actually kept me highly entertained. I know, how wrong is it that I found an 11 year old hysterically funny? Well she is. She’s a cool kid and I loved spending time with her.

Of course now she thinks I’m going to be spending next summer with her as well. I had to explain that I was only home because of my shoulder and unless I win the lottery, I’ll be slaving away at work at all times. I miss those days, don’t you? The ones where you thought adults got to have all the fun and take time off when they wanted to. There’s nothing quite like graduating from high school to turn that reality light on again.

But that isn’t what I’m talking about today. Honestly. We’re talking about the music I’ll forever associate with a blonde haired, blue-eyed, freckled angel-demon type child. And that’s this song. Which is actually a pretty kick ass song. I really do like it. And so did my cousin’s daughter. Every time it would play on Nickelodeon (in case you haven’t watched it in a while, they play short snippets of popular songs between commercials) Megan would sing along and tell me “I really like this song, but I don’t get the video. What are they doing with the stuffed animals?”

I tried to explain it…in my own way, but even I was a bit doubtful I was able to describe the symbolism correctly. Even though I have a minor in English, I never was any good at all that hidden meaning stuff.

Anyway, what do y’all think? Have you heard this song before? Do you like it? What about the video? Any deep, hidden meanings you took from it?

Wicked Scavenger Hunt

Today marks the start of the amazing Wicked Scavenger Hunt. Yup, the entire month of July, I along with a ton of other bloggers have joined together to form a scavenger hunt. Be sure to stop by and search for clues in all the posts. The answers will be there, but DO NOT post them in the comments. That gets the comment immediately deleted, folks, so be sure you don’t do that.

So let’s get to it!

The Cajun Heat series has been a lot of fun to write. I love my little corner of the world. In case you’re not familiar with me, I write erotic romance with a touch of Cajun spice. And yes, I can officially say I’m Cajun. My paternal grandmother’s family came to south Louisiana centuries ago during The Great Upheaval from Nova Scotia. They settled in and around the town I live in now and never looked back.

My hometown isn’t as small and homey as the fictional town portrayed in the Cajun Heat series, but it used to be. I remember when you went to the store, you’d run into family or friends and neighbors. Everyone knew everyone which made misbehaving a problem. But I didn’t mind. After Hurricane Katrina though, life changed dramatically. Industry moved west and people followed where the jobs went. Now we have extremely high real estate, a shrinking sugar cane farming community and as much traffic congestion as a mighty metropolis.

And maybe that’s why I created this town. I miss small town life. Now that I’m older and not as inclined to misbehaving (while at home. I save my naughtiness for conventions and conferences), I miss knowing who lives nearby. I miss the peace and quiet. *sigh* I’m actually a little jealous of the shifters of Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish (which means point of the cat or nose of the cat) because they have the world my town has left behind in favor of improvements.

Enter this rafflecopter for a chance to win the grand prize which is massive, y’all. MASSIVE!

a Rafflecopter giveaway
For the purpose of today’s post though, I have a very special prize to hand out. I have Danica Avet swag. A shot glass, compact mirror, a set of Romance Trading cards and a T-shirt. The T-shirt is black and available in sizes from Small to 4XL. Be sure to leave your size in the comments, but enter THIS rafflecopter for my individual giveaway. Follow the directions and have fun! a Rafflecopter giveaway

And comment if you know the answer to this Cajun Heat series question:

Surgery Day

I’m not actually here. I’m either in lala land, or halfway there as I prepare for my shoulder surgery. I’m relieved and ready to get this over with. A full year of pain and not feeling like myself will hopefully stop once they fix whatever the problem is today.

So in honor of the surgery, and because I’m weird that way, I’m going to be playing songs about cutting or surgery. I was going to use Like a Surgeon but I realized I played that one already. Instead, we’re going with Bryan Adams’ Cuts Like A Knife. Hello, you know you love this song! If you’re a child of the 80s you were a Bryan Adams fan. I know I still kind of am.

Any time I hear Summer of 69, I’m reminded of college. Not that I went to college in 1969. I wasn’t even born yet, but that song was always on play at the bar that was like a second home for me in my youth. Ah, that first line “I bought my first real six string”…yeah, it brings back memories. But Cuts Like a Knife was probably the first song I recall hearing from Bryan Adams and it didn’t hurt that I thought he was cute. Of course, I was like 7…but still, he was cute.

Enjoy the song and I hope to send drugged tweets and facebook updates at some point. But no pictures. Nu-uh.

Commitment

First off, I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day.

I had a lazy weekend for the most part. I did housework, but I also worked on world-building for a series I’m trying to kick off the ground. It’s going to be cool and I can hardly wait to hear what others think about it because oh the hopes I have! It’s amazing what a little excitement means to my overall feelings of optimism. I’m not the optimistic type, in case you didn’t know. I prefer grim, stark reality to wishing and hoping for the best. Reality is me thinking this thing is going to tank hard and I’ll be wearing the imprint of hitting the ground on my face forever.

We’ll see. Right now I’m too caffeine deprived to muster up much enthusiasm for anything but sleep.

But that isn’t even the purpose of today’s post. Nope, today is about commitment. Something I think I might have a little trouble with. You see, I realized today marks seven years I’ve been at my present Evil Day Job. It’s the seventh anniversary of the day I walked through the doors and sat at a desk, not my official date because I started as a temp. Sure, things have changed since that day. I’ve been promoted to a position that has convinced several coworkers that I’m a spy. Which I’m totally not. I don’t have time for that sneaky bullshit. I’m a busy person, y’all.

Yet the more I sit here thinking about my job and the fact that this is the only company I’ve worked at for longer than six years…yeah, I’m feeling the urge to move on. Is it the seven-year itch? Or just a misplaced belief that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence? However, just because there’s an urge doesn’t mean I’m going to follow it. That’s where being a “responsible adult” comes into play.

I can’t just pick up and quit my job. I have responsibilities. I want to buy a house, become debt free, put money away for an early retirement. By the way, is 40 too young to retire? I don’t have a chance in hell of retiring that soon, but it’s a dream of mine. Retired at 45! How awesome would that be? I could write full-time, go to conferences…*sigh* Okay, so sometimes I find myself hoping and dreaming of things that’ll never happen. I’m a writer. Go figure.

Anyway, seven years. SEVEN YEARS. Working for one company. I shudder and I try to forget about it. It’s a job, not a lifetime commitment, right? I can leave anytime I want. Right? *whimper* Okay, so it’s probably a good thing I’m not married. I like my freedom a little too much to be tied up that way. Unless Gerard Butler finally decides he’s going to stop being stubborn and see Cajun is the way to go. Then we’ll see.

Meh, that’s enough rambling. I need more coffee.

Happy Monday y’all

I Blur My Line

I had a completely different song planned for today. Then I remembered this song.

I know y’all probably get tired of me talking about how much music means to me. But no matter what’s happened in my life, what I want to happen, music has always been there. It’s my faithful friend, my rock and my shoulder to cry on. Music never cares about my mood, but it affects it. It can calm me, soothe my soul, feed my muse and lift me up. It can fire me up, fill me with determination and motivate me beyond what I believe my threshhold is.

Today’s song is one that does all of that and more. It inspires me. Maybe it’s the moody guitar riff at the beginning, so simple and unadorned. Or maybe it’s the actual lyrics, or the vocals that reaches into my chest and causes my heart to soar. Whatever it is, I adore this song. It makes me feel both heavy and light, captured and free. How melodramatic, huh? But that’s what music does for me. It’s the most important component in my writing arsenal. Without it, I’m lost and unorganized.

When Corey Taylor of Slipknot and Stone Sour, Dave Grohl of Nirvana and Foo Fighters, Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick and Krist Novoselic of Nirvana came together to celebrate Sound City Studios and performed this song together. From Can to Can’t is an amazing piece of awesomeness. At least I think so.

What do you think?