666- Posts

Not even a full year and I've reached blog post #666.
Wow!  Amazing.
Amazing because it took me over 3 years to do that on my old blog Andrew and the Aluminumsidings.

I think it's fitting that my last post just now actually, was part 6 of my short story Lights out in the Library.   My paranormal story.  Can't really call it a "short" anymore as it's now more a series on this blog.  And given I haven't written anything in 6 months, (part 5 few days ago was literally the first thing I have written story wise since last fall) also fitting.
Let's hope that this breaks my writer's block I seem to have been plagued with.

  So last time I celebrated my blog post  #666 with  a video of the ICP.  This time... it doesn't feel as grand. 
Maybe because I've hit that number before? 

Anyways, I will say this, to my best Spudgun, hope you're feeling better. 

And hey... no one ever did give me any feedback on the topics few months ago when I asked....
so does that mean you all would like some more silliness?


Until later
Creeping Screams!

Lights out in the Library part 6

  The next piece of my blog story.  Part five can be found here
***********************************************
"Yes mom."  Lyell said under his breath as the two men followed her into the office.  Galvin noticed on Hermina's desk, a bunch of talismans. 

"Where you get that?"  he said reaching for a large onyx set in a silver charm. It was shaped like two snakes weaved together around the stone.


"Don't touch anything." Hermina said grabbing his wrist before the dark haired male could pick it up.  The two stopped moving as a strange blue bolt of electricity shocked them both.  Riggs put down the files he was reading few feet away at his own desk moving towards them.

"Honey you alright?" his voice took on a tone of concern.  "Hermina? Doll?" 

She let out a breath as if she'd been gulping for air as she moved away from both Galvin and the talisman. Both were clutching at their throats, coughing.  Galvin leaned over his hands on his knees spitting up what looked like sea water.  "You're a witch!"  She took another step away from him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lyell asked, his hand still bleeding in a crimson stream down his arm. Riggs sighed as he spotted this moving around to a small first aid kit that was hanging on a hook. "You're the ones with all the voodoo and the weird books."  He eyed his brother who was still spitting up the sea water. "Galvin? You okay man?" Lyell pushed his glasses up a bit as his younger brother nodded.  Galvin still looking at the floor.

"I'm talking about you being a witch.  That wasn't normal.  What just happened here."  Hermina's voice started to shake as she pointed first to Galvin then to the talisman.  "What the hell was that? What did you just open?"
Galvin shook his head but said nothing biting his bottom lip.  He stumbled a half step backwards shaking his head again.

"It was just the one time.  Not even serious you know.  Total joke."  his voice was raw from having been coughing.

"Stay away from me." Hermina moved away from him leaving the room.  They heard her on the stairs a moment later heading back up to the library.

"Dude. What's all this about?"  Lyell asked now worried he was the only sane person around.

"Remember few months ago, that weird chick I was dating. The one with the hair." he gestured to his skull.

"The one with the hippy braids?"

"Right that one.  She had this book on spells and stuff."  he started to gesture again his pale hands going everywhere.  "And I was waiting for her one night bored cause she was taking too long to do her hair, and well..."

"You read one of the spells out loud."  Riggs's voice broke in matter of factly.

"I...I...I read one of the spells out loud. Yes. But I didn't mean it. Totally a joke cause this stuff isn't re..real."

"Stupid arse." Riggs shook his head as he finished bandaging up Lyell's hand.  "Wither you believe in it or not, it is real. And it's real because other people have put their belief into it. Given it energy. Do you remember what the spell was? or the book?" 

The younger man pointed towards the snake shaped talisman. "It looked like that. The drawing in the book which is why I wanted to pick it up." 
**********************************************************

"They're gone love." Riggs' voice was a hush as he moved around the darkened library a few minutes later. He moved towards his wife, his shoes on the rug the only sound.

"Uhuh." the sound came from her in disgust as she continued to look out into the city street, her arms crossed under her chest, watching a few late night students as they ran back across the campus.  She caught sight of both Galvin and Lyell as they were leaving the building.  "Who would have thought. A witch."

"Not what you were expecting?" you could hear the hurt and disappointment as he took another half step towards her wanting to just hold her.

"No not what I was expecting." she nodded towards the window, turning slightly towards the large Irish man. "Come on there is nothing else we can do tonight. We just have to wait for them to come back. And trust me, they're  curious enough that they will be back."

"You going to tell me what you two experienced just now?"

"You won't like what I have to say."

"How about you tell me anyway."
*******************************************
Lyell tossed his keys onto the kitchen table as the two brothers entered their apartment.  Crossing to the fridge he got himself a beer.  Galvin already heading to the shower to get the mystery liquid off him.
"Explain tonight to me."  the older brother said a half hour later when Galvin entered the kitchen grabbing a beer himself.  He gestured with his hand that he had no idea what was going on.  Without saying anything, Galvin went to the little desk the two shared in the corner of their living room, and turned on the laptop.  His pale strong fingers sped across the keyboard as he went to a website for occult books.   "You were puking up water, as if you had been drowning.  That's not normal. And and and the .... the the electricity...I saw that! It past right between you two."  He was now leaning over his younger brother's shoulder one hand on the back of his chair the other on the edge of the desk. "What the hell happened back there? Between you two?"

"As soon as I figure it out, I'll tell you."  he clicked on a book on the website.  "This was the book that I read the spell from."     

"Portals and Gateways."  both males said out loud at the same time.  Galvin fished his cell phone out of his messengers bag and dialed the book store.  Within five minutes he had his jacket on again and heading out to the store to pick up a copy.  
**************************************************
The dark haired male sat slumped on a bench in the laundromat a few buildings away from the book store.  He hadn't wanted to wait to get home to read it and had ducked in the building.  The buzzing of the machines seemed to get louder by the second as his chocolate brown eyes skimmed the pages of the chapter that he had read from.  He nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell phone went off.  Digging into the pocket of his jeans he answered it.  "Hello...yeah. No I got it. I'm in some all night laundromat not that far... um yeah yeah. There's a ..."  he got up and wandered back outside to the street checking to see what was in the area.  "... there's a grocery and a deli, and looks like a flower shop across the street. No street sign though.  I'm on the side street from the book store. Only two places that are open are the grocery and the laundry.... Ford street? Yeah I'm on my way."  he hung up heading for the coffee shop three blocks away.

***************************************
Part 7 soon

That was so Epic

So it's one of those nights when I'm just trying to break out of my insane ramblings   routine.  Which always brings me to Youtube.  for old old music videos from twenty/thirty years ago.
Friend of mine always sends me these links for youtubes for hours worth of crap   informative vids on UFOs and conspiracy theories, which is her thing.  Not mine.
I want only stuff with true grit man! Oh yes.  Music!  Lots and lots of loud noisy sounds that we used to see on heavy rotation years ago on, wait for it;  MuchMusic when it still played ... music.
And where did my Epic journey take me tonight you might ask. Well, you filthy little sheep mongers, it brought me Right Round to a video by Faith No More and Dead or Alive. 
You gooberfests.
Did it help you're wanting to know? Did I; your great and loved Heavy Metal Goddess, your picture perfect caffeinated lust-bunny, also known to a singularly few X-Division guys as the naughty librarian,  Lady Lestat; actually manage to break out of my mind numbing routine?
No.  Not in the slightest. 

Operation Burnout

My last few reviews have looked the same.   And I loved the last few books.  But I was just finishing up a review, and it sounded like really bad ad-copy.   Really really bad ad-copy.

I wonder if I'm getting what my radio professor used to call burn out? 
The creative spark just gone from my writing all together?  

I mean man,  that post I wrote on here yesterday, the first bit of "writing" I've done in what... six months?  And not even up to my normal standards. 
Can you loose your lust for life when your life is a keyboard?

Lights out in the Library part 5

Another chunk of my short story.  You can find part one here,   part two here, part three here, and part four here.  Okay so it's turned into a series.

*****************************************

"Could be anything down here..." Galvin snorted  "Trap doors, lost treasure, dead bodies." 

"Okay I'm so taking away your Goonies dvd. " Lyell replied as he continued to snicker at his younger brother.  "Dude, you are starting to stink. You need to wash that the second you get home."

"I know. Good thing I don't have a hot date or anything."

"Yeah. No kidding. Hey, look at this."  Lyell moved around a large stack of folding chairs towards a mirror that was covered in drawings.  "You were the art major, any idea what these mean?"  Galvin limped over to where he was and leaned in over his shoulder.  Lyell twitched knocking his brother's chin off his left shoulder, not once but twice before reaching out to run his pale fingers over the wooden frame of it.  "Ow!" he pulled away, his hand bleeding. The mirror started to slide from it's hinge, both men scrambling to catch it.

"And there goes my shoulder." Galvin held his left shoulder now too. "You're secretly trying to kill me aren't you? I knew it. Mom always loved you best."

"And you just figuring that out now?  So any idea what those designs are?"

"They're ruinic." a female voice said from the doorway.  Both men turned to see Hermia standing a few feet away from them. "You two make really noisy detectives. I could hear you down the hall."

"We got locked in."  Lyell said flatly. "Thought you might have a key or something."

"No key.  Back door's this way."  Her eyes then went to slits. "Crap, you're bleeding. Damn it! Come here let me clean you up. NOW!"
***************************************************
Part 6 soon

Ardeth the Vampire Detective

I was on my way to mom's around lunch time.   The plan was to make strawberry jam.  Which we did.
And I bumped into this guy who I knew back in high school over 20 years ago.  He has not changed, gotten taller but otherwise he looked just like he did in grade 10 back in 1990.
I do not look anything like I did back then, thank god, but he recognized me because of my Vampiro tee.
When he knew me, I had a different stage name.  Anyway, he pointed to the shirt and asked if I was still into all that, if I was still the Vampire Detective ?
I almost said yes, just out of habit but had to say no.  I was very distracted by the fact he did not have a wedding ring on his hand, and last I heard in the rumour mill was that he was married. 

But all that got me thinking, about my life when things were ... more innocent. 
We're talking before the internet, before there was a Buffy the Vampire Slayer tv show, before there was the millions of books on the topic of vampires, and Anne Rice had only done 3 books in her Vampire Chronicles.
I was like this walking talking breathing vampire encyclopedia. If you wanted to know what vampire movie was located at what rental place in town, I was your go to librarian.  If you wanted to know which record store could order you which vhs copy of which vampire movie, I was your girl.  If you wanted to know when the latest issue of Fangoria was due and which comic store in town carried it, I was it baby. 

When did that all change?  Simple, when the world suddenly became like living in the movie Johnny Mnemonic.  Yes, the internet took my purpose.  But no point in crying over spilled milkshakes.

So, there's me today, sitting around my mother's waiting for the blood red strawberry jam to be done, reading for review "Demons are a Girl's Best Friend"    thinking about one thing.    The Rick Springfield version of Nick Knight.   The original tv movie from 1989 that spawned the fabulous series Forever Knight.  I just could not wait to get home and pop it into the DVD player.  
Not taking a thing away from Nigel Bennett who made the character of Lacroix famous in the tv series, but I always thought Michael Nader who played the character first in the movie one hell of a vampire. 
They just don't write them that good ... um nasty... any more.

Fine! Whatever

I have to stop talking about stuff I'm excited about.  I don't know how often it happens to the rest of you all out there, but every god damned time I have something in the works and get hyper over the project, it falls through on me.  Totally bottom out on me.
I mean on everything, from projects to relationships/friendships. 

It's usually a situation where I'm working with someone or planning something with someone and they just bail on me.  After I've been talking about it for days/weeks what have you. 
I do not think I can go through another frealing disappointment career wise.  Dude, I'm at my wits end.

Christ, I really do think I live in a version of the hellmouth.

MMG ??????

I used screen capture for this post

Anyone else miss the boys' blogging on the Spike site?  
I don't personally know what the deal is anymore, nor did I ever to be honest, cause I only read the Spike site blog, but... it's been just over a month since they posted a MMG blog.  Sad as it was.  I honestly do not even know if they are still kicking around over there... are they?  Or has TNA forsaken them too? 

Well, okay sniffle sniffle  Mr. Shelley, Mr. Sabin; I'm here if you want to blog about anything... good or bad or... off colour or .... exchange recipes...

Food Book

I'm doing a bad thing.  Taking time to read for fun and not for work.  Which is why it's fitting that what I am reading would be Jay Rayner's  The man who ate the world    about his trips to the biggest food cities that he took few years ago for the sake of taking the trips, and not for his job as a food critic. 

I only picked this up Monday night, and am nearly finished it.   I bought it last month and it's been sitting there taunting me, like an X Division tag team.... oh shut up, you knew full well I always think food and wrestling in everything you knew it was coming so just yeah... 

But that's actually very fitting, as I just read a page where the author was describing his addiction to food blogs the same way you would a internet porn site. 

The whole reason I gave in right now and let this one be the book de jour,  was because of my cold.  I knew full well I was too zombied to have anything important sink in reading wise.  So, therefore, a book for review was out of the question.
But a book for the hell of it... one that makes even the idea of fondue and escargot in garlic butter sound perfectly naughty.    And I'm a vegetarian.

Happy Birthday

Yes, my pets, I'm old.  And I share my birthday with fellow Canadian  William Shatner.  Normally, I get all defensive and refuse to talk about my birthday, and just put it off as "William Shatner Day"  but this year, I don't know really, I'm in a decent mood.  Would be better if I didn't still have this cold, but oh well.

So yes my lovely Spudguns, happy 37th birthday to me.

Is age just a number?

You've all heard that a million times over, that you are only as old as you feel and age is just a number.
Tomorrow, I'm going to be 37.   How old do I really feel?  17. How old do I look?  Today I would say closer to 57.  Normally I have ladies in my mother's church group, friends online, etc who are always putting me a bunch younger always telling they have a son my age, who has always turned out to be way under the 24 year mark.
I am not going to lie,  I love the fact people think I'm closer to 20 then 40. Live it while you can right.


Right, so tomorrow, the big 3-7.  Daunting number if you ask me.  It's one of those in between numbers that doesn't get any real hoopla, just a passing by number.  Like a drive by birthday.

I'm still sick with this cold.  My eyes were swollen shut this morning and my nose looks like something of a science project. Needless to say, I won't be doing anything this year for my birthday.

However,  I do know what I'm getting from mom.   A set of knives.  I'm giddy at the idea.  Kitchen gifts have started to really set in me the same sort of warm fuzzy that just a few years back a new vampire poster used to do.   Damn it Janet!  I think I'm growing up... I'll have to do something about that.

Some of you might know that I've, in the last two months, because of a slight desire to remove the negative thoughts/actions and drama from my life as much as I can, that I have been doing my year long blog project.  It's where I've been yammering on about nearly nothing, food, the odd movie, and for the last two months, where I've been posting the Wishcasting Wednesdays that Jamie Ridler Studios hosts every week.
I decided to do that for a few reasons, one of which is all tangled up with the movie/book Julie/Julia. You've all read the book, seen the movie and read the original blog by Julie Powell by now so no need for me to explain.
I am going to say this though, it's got me thinking.  Which I seem to be doing alot of the last while. Non-stop thinking really.  Between that and my birthday and the last few books I've just read for review, I've got it in my head that I want to do a project on the same lines that Julie Powell did.  Pick a cookbook and work my way through it.  

So what's the issue you're thinking?

She's done it. Julie Powell has done this already. It's not news, not ground breaking anymore.  Not too mention, how many hundreds of others have decided in the last decade to copy her idea?  Too many.
Okay, so not a ground breaking trendsetting thing.  But something I want to do none the less.

Other issue.
Not much fun trying to do this as a vegetarian.  Would be nearly impossible.  Which sort of means one thing.   I am more then likely going to have to give up being a vegetarian.  Which is sort of scary in itself.  I mean, man, I've been vegetarian now for a decade. That's a long time.  When I have something out at restaurants that have gelatin in it or if a soup ends up having chicken/beef broth in the mix somewhere, I'm sick half the day because my body reacts like having food poisoning.   Just being near a place where the smell of meat is cooking makes my stomach flip.

So, the idea, find a cookbook and work my way through it.  Not the same one Julie Powell used; Mastering the Art of French Cooking vol 1 by Julia Child.   Hopefully a vegetarian one.  Though, I have yet to see a vegetarian cookbook that is more then 95 pages.  There is only so much you can do with eggplant and beans. 
I've tried taking traditional Newfoundland foods, and turning them into vegetarian versions, and let me tell you,  not a very bright idea at all. So not a bright idea.

First things first.   I need to get rid of this nasty cold that just does not seem to want to go away.  Then, I need to find the right cookbook.  Hopefully, one will jump out and bite me when I go to the book store next.  And with the price of cookbooks, it has to be perfect. Finding the perfect cookbook is on par with finding the perfect dress.

Lest we got a new belt

I used screen capture for this post.

Okay, my TNA Spudguns, you all know I barely watch the show anymore, I fast forward through 90% of it.  But I did bother to watch the first two minutes of the beginning and the last seven minutes of the end. 
Why did I bother even doing that?  I got distracted by the shinny. 

They finally listened to us screaming fans it would seem, and did something about the ugly belt that they have been waving around for the last 6 months.    Sting has the title now, and even though it looks much better, it's still... well BEDAZZLED!   I'm not kidding.  I could not get a decent close up but, it's got little rhinestones all around it like someone went Martha Stewart on it's little body. 
So, I'm guessing that they are going to match the belt to the champ for a while now? 

And the end of the show... what do I say on that?  What should I say on that?  There was a time I used to be able to tell a scripted injury from a real one, but since wrestling scripts injuries all the time now, it's an extremely blurred line. 
I will say this; if A.J. Styles' injury was just scripted, they did a good job at selling it.  If it was a stunt gone horribly wrong, they should be ashamed for keeping the camera rolling. 

Saturday nearly 10am

Blah.
Okay my Spudguns,  yes I'm feeling low today.  Part because of what I said in the last post, and part because I'm sick.
I used to never get sick.  Mostly because with the O.I.;  I was broken all the time and never around anyone to get sick.  Now, it seems I've got a cold every time I turn around.

Anyways,  I'm reading - trying to read this week as my cold is leaving me muddled- a book of review that centers around a lady and her recipe book. The whole reason I agreed to review the book. 
And I know I've talked about it earlier in the week on one or more of my other blogs, but it's got me thinking about recipe books.  I'm not talking cookbooks that you buy, but the ones you create yourself that sometimes gets handed down from your aunt/grandma/uncle etc 
And I asked the question,  which no one has bothered to reply to on the other blogs,  "how do you do yours?"  Do you make them like scrapbooks?  Do you have a box of recipe cards? Are they all typed out?  Are they handwritten? 
Mine is all the above.  I have a recipe box and I have a recipe scrapbook.  Both typed and handwritten.

When I started the book club last year,  one of the things I was hoping would happen was a side theme. Getting together for the book club once a month and doing a lunch/coffee/dinner etc and exchanging recipes. 
That never happened. 

I'm just feeling all the disappointments right now.  It's got me thinking out loud again on here.  And there are a ton of projects I want to do creatively, but need at lest one other person to pull off. 

Okay what am I blabbling on about.... right the recipe books.... how do you do yours?

Am I needed?

Is this what mom's mean when they talk about that "empty nest" feeling?  When they realize everyone around them no longer needs them?

I woke up this morning still with a nasty cough and unable to go back to sleep and thought no one needs me today for anything. 
Seriously.  Mom's going out with my sister today.  My sister is in the planning stages for her wedding with her load of friends.  I'm obviously single. It's the weekend and my buddy Matt disappears with his band and groupies every weekend.  Worse of all, since I stopped doing the wrestling reviews I've started seeing about 20 wrestling fans who have started up where I left off. 

I'll be honest, the last one hurts the worst.

So, I'm not needed am I? 
Now what?

Hack Hack

Monday was a fairly decent day so I went to mom's to watch the NXT and Smackdown from the weekend that she had taped for me. No, I haven't done a write up for them this week.  I started getting a bit of a sore throat out of nowhere. 
Yesterday, full blown cough. All I could think was soup and potato chips.  I was craving, literally craving salt because of my scratchy throat.  I am not a fan of salt at all, and always only use half of what a recipe calls for when it calls for salt and never add any extra.  I always cook with other spices.  So for me to be craving salty foods,  I knew I was getting sick.
Today, I have no almost no voice.  I hate that.  I am a talker. No voice not a good thing at all in my world.

Oh and there is this one guy at the grocery who I just want to strangle. The Lemon Zest stock boy.  I've talked about this dude few times before. I was in the grocery yesterday getting veggies for the soup, and it was nearly empty. Dead quiet for once. I was about the only one in the produce area, and he was the only one on the floor in general at that time. I knew what I was looking for, was standing in front of the carrots, bagged garlic already in my basket, when he yelled across the damned place if I needed anything.  This is the same guy who last month, when I asked for the unwaxed lemons did not understand what I was asking for, and again last week, when I once again went looking for unwaxed lemons, he started to peel them telling me just to chop them up.  Peeling and zesting are a bit different.  He's getting under my last nerve, I may have to suplex him.

Monday March something

I have nothing to type really.  So then why am I doing a blog post?
Because it's been nearly a week since I posted anything and thought I should post something. As this is my main personal blog.
I just deleted a large paragraph that was suppose to be humorous but it sounded creepy. More creepy then normal even for me so I thought I better not.  It was about the lack of Mr. Shelley on TNA Impact since his injury.
And now... coffee.

Creeping Screams! latest

Creeping Screams! Season 2 from Ardeth Blood on Vimeo.

Can I cry now?

Left bread out to make a bread pudding. 
Which I was suppose to be making at mom's.  Forgot the bread on the kitchen table when I left. Got to mom's, my key wasn't working and she was gone already for an appointment. Luckily a neighbour who remembered me let me in the building.
Forgot I was suppose to pick up a milk for mom. Had to go to grocery, picked up milk and a bread for the pudding.  I picked up rye instead of white. 
Tried to watch replay of last night's WWE Raw, only kept getting interrupted by phone and neighbours.
Bread pudding was suppose to cook for 1 hour.  After the 1 hour it still was not done.  Put it back on for another half hour.  Still not done and sticking to the pot.  2 hour mark, mom got back and was in a bad mood.  Bread pudding was mush. Had to throw it all out.  And I think I might have burned mom's pudding bag.  Not sure, will find out tomorrow when I go back there after it's been cleaned.
Get home and when I went to turn on the lights, the bulb blew.  I'm out of light bulbs.
Sister had a typing test to see her typing speed which went horribly part to the fact her ex-best friend was working in the office of the testing building. Sister is in bad mood which put mom in bad mood.
What gets me is that I've made a Newfie Bread Pudding a bunch of times at home and it's always turned out perfect, the first time I made it for other people and it just did not work.
It's like crazy bad mojo today.

National Cereal Day

Or so I keep hearing around the internet today.  
Spudguns!!!!!   you remember few months ago I bought that uber bag of Silly Circles ....

Well I thought since it's National Cereal Day, I would give you a photo update on the remainder of it. You see where my thumb is on the one, yeah that's how much I still have left.  Just under half the bag still. Told you it would take me all winter to eat that. 

Honestly, I have to say this, I don't understand how people eat just this sugar coated crap  processed stuff; seriously now, you're hungrier when you're finished because your mouth did all the work and your tummy got nothing for it  much like oral sex. less of course the guy fails to warn you  Oh shut up, you were all thinking it too don't play innocent on me this late in the game.  May I remind you I am NOT child friendly.

Just another Monday Morning

They say that true insanity is doing something over and over again expecting different results.  Okay, then when does routine become insanity?

My morning routine is taking my stomach pills, my pain pills, checking emails, answering any comments on my blogs, and then having coffee before having to get to work on the book reviews.

It's always the same stuff.  Never wavers.   So then, am I insane or just stuck in a rut?
Something to think about on your way to work this morning my Spudguns.

What a crap way to spend time

Morning went okay.  There has been blowing snow and overcast for half the day, now it's full on snowing again.
Had a odd time at the grocery.
Was suppose to have gotten together with my buddy Matt this afternoon but the guy tossed me over the ring apron cause he got a date.  Nice, good to know I'm not even worth a text message for canceling.  When he does get hold of me, he'd better tell me that the damned date went so frealing perfect that he married the chick or something. 

Ended up renting  Ten Inch Hero which was suppose to be a cute little comedy about a bunch of kids working in a sandwich shop.  It ended up not being much of a foodie movie at all, or a comedy for that matter.  Total romantic chick-flick.  Not what I was in the mood for at all. And I hate it when the DVD cover makes it sound like one thing then it ends up being another.
Damn movie made me cry.  Last thing I needed today was a reason to cry. One of the main characters has this big speech about how her looks get her ignored.... yeah too frealing close to home I'd say.

It's the Thank Yous

As a reviewer, you have no time for much of anything if you want to make deadline, you are lucky if the press agents send you single emails instead of mass group ones to all the bloggers/press people, and totally hit the gold if they remember your name.

I've wondered lately if I should keep going after my current stack of books are done, as I do not get paid for this.  I get the books for free but I'm one of hundreds who do not get paid for the hours we put into it.
I missed out on two author interviews in the last few months, because of missed deadlines.

I started doing this to get my foot in the door myself for my own writing career, but sadly, that has not gone as I was thinking it would. Mostly because of the above statement and because I deal with a different intern every two months.

I was seriously wondering about it all, then tonight something nice happened.  The one thing that is rare but makes weeks like this worth it.   A personal thank you from the authors. 
And let me break it down for you,  there are two thank yous that you can get.   A generic "Glad you loved my book"  which means they never read what you had to say about them.  and the real deal.  Like tonight.  I got a paragraph long thank you from Jill Mansell for the review I did on her book "Staying at Daisy's".  A very personal thank you.  I'm still smiling.

Um... honestly

Okay, I finally got down to it and did the short review for the Jamie Oliver cookbook.
If you want to call it that.

I pretty much said I thought the book was a disappointment.   Not the stuff I'm guessing the publisher will be wanting me to say, but tough cookies on that. 

I did love the look of the book, but just not the recipes themselves. Too difficult to find certain items and alot of them are very expensive.

So, that's done. Now I can not feel so much like I am under a pressure cooker (all puns intended) with trying to figure that review out.   Wow, and it only took me what... two months?

And in this corner Eric Young

I used screen capture for this post

Last week's episode (Feb 24 2011) of TNA Impact  had one highlight.  The silliness of Eric Young. 

Okay so I fast forwarded through 90% of last week's Impact. 

Why doesn't Eric Young have his own show?   I'm serious here.  And he broke out the Canadian shorts midway through his "match" which was a happy few seconds for me.  EY is still on my list of Canadian celebrities I would love to meet.
I keep hearing the announcers say how crazy Mr. Yummy... er Mr Young is.  Well, um dude he's Canadian, a Canadian that needs to come back to Canada and sit in the snow for a bit cause he's looking too tanned, but a Canadian none the less. And we're known for our funny.  

Daily Om Lesson

I subscribe to the Daily Om.   It's the first thing I ever subscribed to on the internet when I first got the internet years ago.

Today's lesson is how we as a society have over used the words "I'm Sorry"  to the point they are being used either wrongly or to the point of them not meaning anything anymore.
The lesson asks us to count up in the course of a day how often we say it, and when. 

I decided to do this today. 
I found myself saying "I'm Sorry" every few minutes when I was out. The only place I went today was my mother's. 
So in the course of the ten minutes it took me to get there, I said "I'm Sorry" three times to people I was walking past on the street simply because I was on the sidewalk and they weren't moving over.
I said I was sorry to the lady who was standing outside my mother's building having a cigarette as I reached for the buzzer.
I said I was sorry to the guy in the laundry room who was just waiting around for his laundry when I took the basket of laundry down for mom.
I said I was sorry to the cleaners who were vacuuming the hallway in front of my mother's apartment when I came down the hall.  Okay that time I had muddy winter boots.

That's 6 times today.  If I had stopped to think, it should have been "Excuse Me."  and not I'm Sorry.

I've done, just what the Daily Om Lesson today was expressing.  We, as a society, take the blame for stuff that isn't needing blame. And this in turn, belittles ourselves.

The rest of the Daily Om Lesson talked about discovering what it is about ourselves that makes us feel we need to give up personal power like this.  
Saying "I'm Sorry"  when we've done nothing wrong like this, is the same as saying that we have no right to be where we are. 

I never thought about that before you know. 

Are we playing it safe?

I can honestly say, I have never played it safe when it has come to love/lust. 
Anyone of you my dear Spudguns, who's read any of this blog or my other blogs over the last 7 years can without a doubt agree with me on that statement.

So then why is it, that all the self help books and authors and magazine articles out there have always been on the side of playing it safe?  Take a minute to check my facts... I'll wait.

Over 90% of the stuff out there tells women to not be too loud, not be too out there, not to be too expressive towards the man they are wanting, but to somehow still "be ourselves".   HOW?  I ask you, how can we be less then who we are and still be ourselves?
Men, you can take this theory upon yourselves too, as I know you guys are always told to man up and not be a pussy.

I've had more then a few people in the last two years tell me I'm off my crackers when I say, I know it's my voice that's going to snag a guy not my looks.  And, no I'm not down playing my looks at all.  I know something I say or write will be what grabs the attention of the right guy.  I have just always known this.  I honestly thought growing up I'd end up writing a killer book or working at a magazine/newspaper and that would do it, but now I'm thinking it's going to be my blogging
Simply because that's when I am my most honest and unflustered.

And Spudguns, you are thinking "what has got into her this morning?"  Well, everything actually.  Simply everything.  There was a conversation with one of my cousins about how little response to stuff I've gotten since I changed my attitude and have become "nicer" in the last few months.  P.S., she just finished reading "Why Men Love Bitches"  so I know where her point of view is coming from.
But, I started to think about that, and yes it really got under my skin.  She's half way right. Which is the worst part of it.
I've gone back over a few things, blog wise, and since I've toned down, I've fallen off the radar of a few people. Why is that? 
Is the only way to be noticed to be a Heel around here?