Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Recipe... Salmon / Halibut Poppers

So this forum I belong to has a discussion about whether or not fish feel pain.

Being an Alaskan, no matter how transplanted I may be, fishing is kind of a matter of breathing for a lot of people.

I - myself - enjoy fishing with the family... We do a lot of combat fishing here. (Shoulder to shoulder, everyone trying to catch the huge King Salmon that is drifting past, playing Let's Make a Deal - hook number one? Hook number 2?)

I call my kind of fishing, bloodsport fishing. Now don't go feeling pity for the fish. In fact, it isn't the fish that I bloody up... See... it's like this:

I play the "dumb fishing girl". I cast wildy about, catching several guys - one right after the other. This causes them to move quite a ways from me. I'm not sure why, I suppose they do have some sort of life preservation going on... hmmmm...

So finally - after I get a good 20 foot clearance going on - I set my pole - and I usually walk out of there with a fantastic King Salmon or Red Salmon... whistling dixie, as the guys just look mournfully at my catch. I suppose, if they were all looking at me - I'd be flattered... But knowing the Alaskan Male, I know they have only eyes for the fish on my catch line.


Anyway - I get home and the hubby get's to filet the fish... Then I get to cook it.

So sitting here talking about all this stuff on the other forum, I shared a recipe that I made - and got some great feedback. I figured I'd share it here.

Heck it's my blog - and I'll share if I wanna. *g*

Salmon (or Halibut - which is even yummier!) Poppers

  • Pack of premade refrigerated or frozen Lumpia wrappers
(if you're going for a big group get quite a few wrapper packs and sit down and make these - also - I make a ton of them at once and freeze them before cooking them.)

  • Fish cut up into thin strips - or chunks if you prefer.

(strips about 3 inches long, 1/4 inch cubed - chunks about 1/2 inch cubed)

  • Cream Cheese - depending on how many you're going to make but I figure 2 boxes Philly for every set of Lumpia wrappers.

  • Green Chiles - I use the chopped green chiles in a can - 2 small cans per set of Lumpia Wrappers.

  • Salt, Garlic Powder, Pepper

So get your cooking oil going - I use a Frydaddy type of deep fryer, but you can do this in a skillet as well.

In a Lumpia Wrapper - place fish, cream cheese, green chilies, seasonings, roll it according to directions on the wrapper (kind of like a burrito) and then deep fry until crispy golden brown.

Now - some of my friends make them huge and use two wrappers - you'll have to experiment for your own choices.

I sometimes substitute veggies (asparagus is YUM like this) or other seasonings --- or jalapeno's for my husband who likes them.

You can play with the recipe - but trust me, once you do this - you'll be creating all sorts of fun stuff... Add cheddar cheese, add broccoli, add different meats...


Alrighty then - I'm off to bed.

Sweet dreams!

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Yah OK. Try me. - gimme 8 words...

Ha ha ha...

I'll bet you dimes to dollars, or crickets to cribbage (or any of those old, worn out sayings), that I can make you a poem, designed for you out of those 8 words.

So if you have something you want written about, poetically - give me the license (8 words or more and a title --- or not... :P ) and I'll put something up whimsically created for you!

Yeah YOU - sitting there - with your finger up your nose.

(I have a spycam sitting on your window sill, so I see all. No, no, no... You're supposed to flick 'em!)

So where was I? Oh yes.... 8 words.

Try me.

I'm a Poet... Or is that Poetess... Or shoot - I'm a rhymin' fool...

As another blog (The Wry Writer) pointed out, sometimes titles are oft hard to come by.

I've always been lucky - whether anyone else likes them or not, I like making up titles. Sometimes that is what gets me started. Making up the title first and then creating the whole story idea behind that title. I also like to make up words ahead of time that I am going to use; especially if I am writing poetry.

(Just so you know I write lyrics for a band that I am in, and every once in awhile --- the band sucks, we're garage bound forever --- I like to amuse people by having them give me words and making up songs on the spot, using their words.)

For example uhm... well... alrighty then... Let me imagine a title for a poem...

Hold on... It's gotta be unique, ya know? I'm scratching my head, and probably some other unmentionables... but we won't discuss that here...

Oh darn... There I go again, saying that word - no wait - w r i t i n g "THAT" word. It seems to fall over from my Alaskan dialect, we talk about butts a lot here. Just in case you ever wondered. I'm sure you were wondering...

Well, nevermind that. Back to making up a title... Something unusual... GOT IT!


(Did you see that little flashing light bulb above my head? Oh... you mean it was just my imagination? Sigh... Well darn... I saw it.)

You all know that I'm a recent fan of the Miss Snark blog - right?

(Nod your head up and down if you knew... and if you didn't side to side.)

Well I am. It's a very amusing and informative blog... So let us just imagine these words for a title:

Once Upon a Snark (oh yeah baby, this could get interesting)

Now that the title is out of the way - let me think about words... We know some that absolutely must be in the poem... Gin, blog, writers, advice, agent. Those must be in there...

Let me throw some other fun ones in... Hmmmm... Got it!

Persevere, query, stilleto, horde, wondrous (I gotta use that somewhere...)


Alright - here we go... cracking the knuckles, centering the fingers on the keyboard...

Once Upon a Snark

Once a visiting, I did go -
To learn about things I did not know.

I fell into a wondrous blog -
Whereupon an agent did log.

Thoughts that belong to agentkind -
And keeping writers straight in line.

Biting comments said with a grin -
Tossed back, with a swig of gin.

Laughter ensued, and things were learned -
Watch out writers, you might get burned.

Should you query or should you cry?
I found Miss Snark did not lie.

She didn't hold anything back -
She told you if she thought you did lack.

She also had praise for those who deserved -
The rest of us, she said "persevere".

She gave out hints, to those in need -
And into their minds sent a precious seed.

Go forth and write - the battle scream -
But don't you ever try to query me.

For I'll stomp on it with a stilletto'd heel -
You'll lie there as your senses reel.

But at the end of the day -
You'll thank me, that's what you'll say.

So much advice - upon the board -
It's fantastic to find such a horde.

So now I make it my daily lark -
To go and read - to visit Miss Snark!

Hey now, I hope you weren't expecting Longfellow or any major poet - I told you - I do lyrics for fun! LOL!

Anyhow - welcome to my little moment of insanity. In a strange way, I hope it's contagious!

Lady M

Saturday, February 25, 2006


I don't often click on links people give me.

Today I ran across one that made me curious so I clicked on it.

WOW! Was this an inspirational story.


It takes a little while to load up - but I think it is completely worth it.

The link takes you to a newscast. One where a major syndicated newscaster tells a brief story about a young man with a disability... Autism. It shows how, during only one basketball game, he made an extreme difference for his highschool team.

Take a moment of your day and get inspired.

I think you will find it worth the time and the wait.

Let me know what you think.

I think I am so inspired after watching that clip ---- and reading ALG's blog on Live Journal that I am going to start writing another story.


It's a great piece on pitching, and if you haven't read it from the MISS SNARK blog - please take a moment and read it. She has some excellent advice to give to authors who are pitching their MS.

Strange... The things that can inspire you.

See ya tomorrow!

Friday, February 24, 2006

The Snark is Missing!

Oh dear...

I've gone to go get my daily fix of ruffled feathers and gin, and what do I behold?

The "SNARKETTE" is missing in cyber space!

I suppose it is chapter 14 and the aliens have invaded Planet Earth - oh dear!

What will Miss Snark do? Will she cleverly defeat Blogspot and force them to bring back her amazing adventures? Or will she give up, allowing the Aliens from Blogspot to defeat her?

Stay tuned...

Same Snark time, same Snark Channel.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Nyquil should come in Chocolate Flavors...

It's true.

Honest, it is.

Nyquil should come in Chocolate... or Chocolate Raspberry... or Vanilla swirled Chocolate.

Instead it has a nasty mint flavor that leaves a hideous "liquorish" (intentional) taste and feeling in your mouth...

And then... just when you think you've gotten through the worst of it - your stomach is on fire!!!! Dear Heaven what have you done to deserve this awful fate?

As if you're not already feeling puny enough.

Breathe! You tell yourself it will pass. You lie there writhing in agony as you wait and then it's gone... as if it never was.

At least if it was in CHOCOLATE flavors, you'd be able to snarf it down and get something out of the deal... You'd get rid of that Chocolate *yum* craving that you've had all week, but couldn't taste the candy bars, so why bother?

I'm a genius. What can I say? Half the women of the world would thank Nyquil makers if they just thought about what real women wanted half of their lives: Chocolate.

The other half, we split it up between: Guys, books, entertainment, work, children, exciting things, cooking, going out, our girlfriends, animals, gardening, internet, writing, singing, playing, school, gym, cleaning, sleeping and so on...

But half of our life is consumed by Chocolate.

In fact, Chocolate is so good, that I think I will forevermore CAPITALIZE the first letter in the word Chocolate. It has become a life force - it is living! It is YUM! It deserves that capital "C".


Did I just let the cat out of the bag?


Well - if you're a guy and you're reading this, I'm throwing my super mega mind eraser on you about what you just read.

When you leave this page, you won't remember a thing about Chocolate... Except if you have a girlfriend, wife, sister, mother, friend who is a girl, co-worker"ette", neighbor who is a girl - or if you just see a girl walking down the street... You will get this overwhelming urge to buy them all Chocolate.

It's a secret.

So shhhhhhh.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

And so the day goes...


Well, where did it go?

Just a few minutes ago, I was waking up - throwing the sheets off the bed, slamming the snooze button on the alarm just to shut it up...

And somehow I managed to montage driving to work, being there, having a couple cups of coffee - answering the phones... Coming home... Taking sleeping child into bedroom...

Flash foward and I'm sitting here typing this.

And now it's time to go back to bed.

Interesting. Time flew away and I truly have no idea where it went.

I don't remember the drive home, but I hear that is common for people who drive the same routes day in and day out.

I don't remember the day at work much, except that I think I did everything right.

It could be the Nyquil, but perhaps I'm getting so old that my memory is fuzzing the distinct lines of reality and dreaming...

Oh - ok - it's the Nyquil... I know.

Sigh - but it was fun sitting here thinking of all these horrible diseases that I could possibly have had... Or imagine that I was blasted into a time warp... Or someone else invaded my body and took over for my waking hours, only to return it to me when it was time to go to sleep.

Ah sleep. Yessssssssssssssssssssssss.

Night night.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Memories Of Time Long Past...

On another journal blog that I visited, someone mentioned something about elderly people and writing... It brought back memories, so I thought I'd share some of them with you.

(emeraldcite's blog - a link is in one of the last few posts, I'll place it on the right in a few days when I can figure out how to do so and have the inclination to actually click on the template for this blog and remember where and how to place it properly within the template.)

I remember my grandfather with amazing clarity. My grandparents raised me, so to speak, in more ways than one.

My grandfather was an amazing man and the older I get, the more amazing he actually was. I hope some day, to be remembered as an amazing person by my relatives, it is a way to be immortal for a few moments, in the future.

When I was little, younger than my daughter is now, he started calling me Josephine. I thought he was crazy, until I realized he called every female Josephine. I would hear Josephine and I would laugh and laugh, because I thought he had forgotten my name. Little did I know that it was probably his way of never mixing up a woman's name, to which, now, I know is probably an insult.

This knowledge, of looking back - and seeing it all through the much broader picture, made me realize, that my grandfather had probably been a bit unfaithful in his prime. But it doesn't truly matter, because that only adds to his laughter and his smiling ways.

He would tell the same joke over and over again, and he would laugh at himself - uproarishly so. We would all roll our eyes - and my grandmother would say "MO!" in that tone of voice that brooked no deals. He would then simmer down and open his newspaper, focusing on the cryptograms and the crossword puzzles being absolutely silent, until he started snoring.

When I was a child, living with them, I loved to listen to his snores rattle the windows and shake the house. It was comforting hearing that snore. It was like knowing that as long as he snored, I was safe and I slept soundly. When the house got quiet, I worried that he had quit breathing and I was terrified that he would be cold and dead if I dared peer into the bedroom. I would breathe a sigh of relief when the snores started again, and I would drift back to sleep.

I remember that he loved cribbage. He would play and play cribbage. He would boast and brag that he was the best player - and he would loudly exclaim each 15 for 2 points with a bravado and a "so there!" type of exclamation. Until one day, I beat him at his best loved game. He took his cribbage board downstairs to his favorite chair and I never saw it again. It wasn't that he was a poor sport, I realize now. It was that I had taken the one thing away from him that he was sure of - that he was good in cribbage. When a 13 year old beats you at a game that you thought you were a champion of, it must be hard to bear - because I think I hurt his pride... And even though I asked to play again - the board was banished and excuses were made.

I wish that I had let him win.

I think he had a collection of porn. I'm not entirely sure if the guys from work gave it to him, or not. But I think it was hilarious finding the titles on the VHS tapes when cleaning out everything. We never checked the tapes, but the names alone were enough to cause laughter, trying to imagine him watching them in front of my Victorian Iced Grandmother.

He loved her. My grandmother. She was his dream woman. He took care of her like a child and he never argued with her. She was a stringent woman who had high demands - and I loved her too. Very much so. I don't think people understood her. Now, when I look back at her ways, I have finally come to the determination that she probably suffered from severe bi-polar disorder and was addicted to pain medication.

My grandfather never uttered a bad word about her, no matter how many arguments she tried to stir up, he always carefully manuvered around them. Like a game they had been playing for so many years that it was natural for them.

They were comfortable with each other. I don't know if they were happy.

And I didn't know my grandmother loved my grandfather as much as he loved her until the day he died. A part of my grandmother died with him that day - and she died not more than a few months later.

I remember sitting there watching her, wondering how she could hold up under such pressure at his funeral. I thought she was being quite the uncaring woman, who laughed, did her makeup and made the funeral a social event. Until I watched her for a moment.

And even though she laughed in the hot Nevada sun, there was a fly crawling across her face. She didn't notice it. She didn't bat an eye, and as it crawled across her cheek, I realized that what we were seeing was a facade - that she had gone numb inside, realizing what she had lost.

I don't think for a moment that anyone else noticed. Everyone loved my grandfather. He was an icon, a hero and many more things than just a grandfather and husband. He'd lived through history - been written about in National Geographic and he had been a solid stone in our lives until the day he died.

My grandmother had always lain in bed, because she had been injured in an accident when she was a teenager, her back breaking, and it affected her as she got older. But truly - I don't think it was the injury that kept her in bed - like I said, I think she was Bi-polar and depressed, before anyone knew that such maladies existed. And no one cared, because her sharp tongue had already cut everyone enough - that it was safer to leave the tigress in her room.

But my grandfather had always been devoted to her.

I find that even more heroic than all of the other accomplishments of his lifetime.

And that fly... it made me realize that what I see in a person, their actions and everything they say or do ---- are not necessarily who they really are.

I'll never forget that.

And I think that maybe my grandmother died regretting many things - and for that, I love her even more.

Thank You for Visiting

I've had a few visitors, and I find it very much an awesome thing to realize that someone stopped by and maybe read a paragraph or two.

While my head is still in some sort of chaotic disorder because of this cold, I don't think I should go off writing - because it comes out looking more like Alice in Wonderland...

And while in my head that is just fine, once it is on paper, I might embarrass myself... Tremendously.

Of course, hey, weren't some fantastic writers very wasted when they wrote? And they now have books that have laid waste to time?


I still think I should figure out a way bottle the head part - but not the cold part. LOL!

OK - going back to bed, sipping my Nyquil snifter and hitting the hay.

OH - and Thank you for coming by and reading - and posting. It makes me feel good, even if I'm totally out of it.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Sick Thoughts and Daughter Writes!

Being sick makes you either totally brain dead ----- or worse, so infused with thoughts and you have absolutely no energy to type it out or get it from brain into readable format.

And it becomes lost.

Right now, I'm at work, and finally, after 3 weeks, my daughter's chest cold has caught me. I thought I had eluded it's grasp, but no... alas... it has me violently within it's clutches.

I was fine this morning. I truly felt that the world was right and life was good. And then somewhere in time, about 2 hours ago, I noticed this dreadful heaviness in my chest and my throat felt uncomfortable and tight and then my head started feeling like it was slowly being filled with saltwater taffy.

The world is starting to be viewed in a slanted way of wishing time would go fast and I could crawl back into bed.

I feel on the edge of illusion. That if I just close my eyes that these waves of uncomfortable chest and head cold will wash over me and away. Far away.

I knew completely that I was ill when I stepped outside, with nary a coat on and didn't feel the cold. It's a dead giveaway when you feel feverish in an Alaskan winter, that something is just not right.

And if I tilt my head to the side, the world tilts, just a few moments afterwards, giving the sense of vertigo. Oh yeah baby, people pay good money for gin and vodka to make them feel this way! Too bad you can't bottle the interesting mind process and perceptions of the world, without the achy, congested, horrible icky feelings combined within.

Now that would sell, I'm telling you.

I may be delirious right now - at least in keeping a coherent thought in my head is impossible - but this - if in pill or liquid form... the mind screw - would sell.

Add a little zippy to it and zap! You've got a selling potion that everyone would buy.

On a funny - very funny side note.

My daughter is 9. She's very, very intelligent. (So all mother's say of their children.) But this is no fooling. The kid knows how to work the internet better than her father or I, and we're both pretty good on it.

Anyhow, she was using my computer non-stop to do all sorts of little kid things - and I was losing out on writing time - and it just was awful - but what can you say to a kid who is only allowed to visit educational online sites with parental/teacher approval?

Not much - because your kid is learning at a phenomenally fast rate - and you can't stop her, because as much as you want to get on the computer - to see her understanding something - and then explain it to you... well... it's worth something that is so priceless a figure can't even be attached.

So last Christmas she asked for a Laptop Computer.

Well, now, I know most parents would laugh it off, but instead we didn't. We actually went out and got her a brand new laptop.

She set it up herself, with very little help from me. She had me show her how to add one game (Zoo Tycon, for those who are wondering), and she then proceeded to add the rest of the new games we got her on her own. I'm telling you, while she isn't a prodigy or anything, she's damn smart.

Anyhoooooo - back to the funny part.

Last night, after hubby and I were getting ready to go to bed, I go peek in on her to see what she is doing. And what do I see?

I see her at her computer.

I go cuddle up next to her to see what she's so intent on... and... there... on the computer...

Zip! Zap! Zang and How to Disappear
by Jaz (Her whole name spelled out)

And about 8 paragraphs to a story that she has painstakenly typed out.

Now - it isn't adult quality material - but for pete's sake - she's just turned 9 years old!

And it was well written, grammatically correct - and it was a real story.

She said she's writing a book.


You go girl!!!! I think to myself.

I encourage her - because, I think to myself - WOW! What if she can do it?

So I shall wait and see what happens - and wouldn't it be hilarious if she got published before me? ROFLMAO!

Life is so funny - especially when you are getting very sick.

Have a GREAT day!

Aaa aaaa choooooo!

Friday, February 17, 2006

Visiting other Blogs...

I've been visiting other blogs since I started blogging.

Mostly they are from other writers or agents or someone within the industry of publishing/writing. (As I am trying to become more updated on these topics.)

I find they are varied and interesting. Each person has a different view of what is going on and they all have words of wisdom or questions that need to be answered.

Here is one I found that asked an entirely interesting question:


In this blog, he asked how one knows if they are a good writer.

Except he phrases it as: One thinking they are a good writer and not knowing the truth - with everyone else thinking you are ghastly vs. actually being a good writer.

Something akin, he said, to American Idol participants who think they are good, yet you cringe as they open their mouths to emit some sort of camel mating calls.

I had to expound my thoughts on his site - because I believe that that is what blogs are for - sharing, thinking, expounding...

And while I think you just know - if you are a good writer... I can see his point. What if you "just know" and your knowledge is erred? LOL! Well - I'm sure it happens. But I see books published all of the time, that are less elegant than what I can write...

There are books that are published that are horrid compared to what I can output.

So all in all - the comparison, I believe is what makes one good - that and the readership.

Anyhow - the concept was his - and so if you'd like to read his blog, please, by all means do visit it --- oh singular reader - myself.... Ahh yes Lady M, I think I shall visit there once in awhile.

My question is - do other bloggers really appreciate it if you visit them and participate in their blogs?

Or is it taboo to just jump in and say what's on your mind?

I have a few sites that I've participated in, and I always believed that they were created to share and to talk back and ask questions in...

But what if I am wrong...


Pondering again.

Blue Houses and Bad Couches...


I know...


See where I live sits on a pond. Across the pond there are some houses. I get to stare at them regularly - when I have my cup of tea in the morning - late at night - when I'm sitting at my computer typing away.

(Might I mention, I'm a fast typist - not always perfect, sometimes too fast and therefore what I type is keeping up with my brain matter - making the same darn mistakes that my brain does!)


There is this one house that they started painting. And it's a bright blue. I don't mean a dark blue or a pale blue -- that belongs on a house.... But a BRIGHT blue. The kind that belongs in a super nova or in a blue raspberry super sour candy. Blue like I've never seen before. Not light, not dark, but blue. Ick blue.

Don't get me wrong, I adore blue. I think it is a color that is amazingly versatile. But the line of where blue can be drawn is distinct - and this color blue does not belong on a house. Not even in my wildest dreams. And let me tell you - not even in your wildest dreams.

So perhaps I can get past the color blue that is being painted on this house.

But I cannot get past the dark brown bottom that is still on the house in combination with the blue. They have not finished this project and it is a two-toned house. So here I sit and I think - WOW. Someone please just put me out of my misery if I ever think to do this type of thing to my house.

Keep in mind, I don't live in the projects or barrio. I don't live in a poor neighborhood, by any means. Nothing too super fancy - but middle to upper middle class. And this house... it reminds me of drives as a child - through the middle of Watts - the sights and sounds I saw that showed me horrid awful architecture, colors and just a bunch of rambling, broken down homes.

It's just awful.

It could be the couch set that we just bought, too - that's put me in this mood. *A grumpy, can't find anything right with anything kind of mood*.

We bought a couch/love seat set. And it looks so beautiful. We paid decent cashola for it, and it looked so yummy comfy that I had to have it. I sat on it - I measured it, I loved it!

I get it to the house - and it's beautiful!

I sit in it for a few hours, bringing a table over for my lap top and it's gorgeous - feels good...

Until the next morning. My back is aching. I rearrange the cushions - and learn that the bottom cushions are all of one piece to the couch.

OMG - I call the company we bought it from and they are like - we don't take back large pieces of furniture after 24 hours unless there is a major workmanship defect --- but the cushions don't move... ah well - that was visible at the store... But they will have lumps in them in just a few months (since we're couch potatoes here at the house)... That is not our problem... Ahhh bummer.

So I have this expensive couch set - that is so uncomfortable to spend more than a few hours at... And I had thought it was going to be my "writing" couch. One where I could curl up and just type away on.

Sad to say - nope.

So me and my aching back and hind quarters are back to the formal dining room. And I hate it.

Can we say grumpy?

It's ok - there are a lot of wonderful things going on in my life. My girlfriend is waiting until this year's tryouts for American Idol and I'm taking her. She's got this amazing voice and look and I just think she'll be perfect.

I've written a book - and sent it to an agent.

My hubby is great - my kid is wonderful - if not a little spoiled.

I have my health - minus the aching back and posterior. I have a great puppy dog - who loves us to death. I have life - joys and a lousy couch.

What more could a gal ask for?

Thursday, February 16, 2006

OK 2 bucks for free What the heck...

I don't trust the credit card companies much any more. I've had a few snafus on my bills and decided I would prefer going to a prepaid card.

I jumped on to this card that they sell at Safeway - you can recharge it there, etc. etc. For all my online purchases...

And they sent me this thingie that gives referrals 2.00 if they use your code when they start up the cards...

So ALL you blog readers of mine (yeah, I'm talking to myself again), if you are interested in a prepaid credit card that you can refill at Stores, etc. It's called NETSPEND...

And here's 2.00 for free. (Whoopie!)

To redeem:
Purchase a card. Visit netspend.com for a retailer near you.
When activating the All-Access Visa or Netspend Cash Card, enter the code provided and get a $2 credit to your account.
REFERRAL CODE: 3352558858
No credit application. No Bills.*Limit one referral credit per card activation. Credit amount subject to change at any time for any reason. Copyrights NetSpend Corporation 2001-2005.

I will be honest, the card has worked like a charm for me, so I don't feel too bad if anyone actually does use it from reading my blog. It isn't a scam.

So since I'm on the credit card kick - why not blog about it?

Lessee - I'm terrible with credit cards. I have the worst luck around when it comes to people double charging me, not checking the bills to confirm purchases... Scam companies bilking me... And I could go on with the horror stories.

Let's just suffice it to say, I think that some time ago, I realized that if I didn't have the cash, I didn't need it.

I'm very fortunate - I'm not wealthy, but I live comfortably with my family. We don't have everything we want and there are days when the bills are barely making the paycheck to paycheck monthly cycle... But we've been blessed and lucky. We don't have to eat Top Ramen or peanut butter and crackers all day.

We have what we need - and what we don't need is a credit card to spoil that.

And yes - credit cards have spoiled that in the past.

I got charged way more one time by this scam company. Let me tell you this little story... I trust financial institutions... NOT!

See I pay for something - 50.00. OK good, the company gets the approval code. That same 50.00 never gets taken out - and the time lags. Company puts in for another 50.00 and gets code... time lags again... money gets put back on card. Again and again the company does this - getting the approval codes for the purchase... and letting it lag.

You get the service or product. But you think you're only paying 50.00.

Well - lo and behold - the bank calls you and says - You owe them some astronomical amount of money. HUH?

What for?

Excuse me - do you have the right phone number?

Did I purchase XXXXXXXXX for 50.00? Well Certainly I did, why is that a problem?

What is my ISP number? Well - it is ABABABABABABAB



Let me speak to your boss. Now. No. Put the damn phone on hold and get me the manager. You're the manager? What in the world are you talking about? There is no way on EARTH that I owe you XXXXXXXX for one 50.00 purchase.

I bought HOW many?

Pardon me (gasp, water, fainting spell).

And just how am I responsible for this?

Oh because I signed an account paper and had a card - and you can prove the original order came from my computer?

Excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me. Hellllllllllllllllloooo. Is there anyone home there? Didn't you just hear me I purchased only ONE - ONE - ONE - ONE thing.

I don't care what that piece of paper you are holding says... It's not right.

Fine. I'll obtain an attorney.

Good.. Good. I'll see you in court!

Needless to say - the attorney cost more than it was worth - I still had to pay the freaking amount because the original purchase was traced to my computer...

Although - me and God (or whatever you believe in) - and the Scamming Company KNOW I only ordered and got ONE of the item.

I think the bank knew too, but not until after the whole process was over. And then they couldn't go back on a policy issue just to refund me.

I may have been one of the first people hit with this scam so it may have looked legit to them. I know in my heart of hearts, it was illegal, wrong and incredibly messed up.

My bills are now paid - but I swear - NEVER AGAIN will I trust a financial institution.

*choice words here being said under my breath*

Alas... So there... That's why I only do prepaid cards now.

And I refuse to use a revolving credit card or one associated with my bank accounts.

And this is why I think that NetSpend's prepaid card is worthy of the mention at all - and hey - if you're going to use it - (my faithful reader - me) then at least pick up the 2.00 for free!


Hey - have a great night... Some days are hilarious - when you look back at them.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Officially I am now a paid writer...

I finally have something to put on my professional credits - I've been paid for some reviews on a gaming site!

I don't know whether 250 - 500 word reviews would account for professional credits, but I shall use them anyway! And the money for them - well - hey, that's just a side trip. Something that won't last forever.

The reviews were dashed off in a competition type of atmosphere and out of quite a few people, 7 reviews of mine were chosen. Can you say "Wow!"? I can.

It's the first time I've been paid for my writing - except for poetry and lyrics, I've made some money (very tiny pocket change... think quarters, dimes and nickels) from selling them to others. At one time I created a write-it-for-you type of poem boutique. I sold about 8 of them. Nice, but not noteworthy.

One of the things that I find most fun to do, is to be told what is wanted - and to create something out of it - especially in a competition format. I am soooooo competitive.

I also enjoy people giving me a series of words that are not related and writing poems out of them that make sense. Seconds baby, seconds - that's all it takes for me to create them. And I have fun doing so.

So if you're up for it and wanna see some funny stuff, toss me about eight or nine words. I'll dilly dally and make a "special" poem for you.

Oh my goodness - I'm a paid professional writer now! It may never see the light of day - but the place paid me for my words. I may never be able to credit the place - but hot damn! I'm in! Like Flynn! (Ya know... ya think Errol minds us using him so many generations later?)

So what are you waiting for?


Let me show you what I'm made of besides just sugar and spice and everything nice.

Give me 8 words.

See the results - LIVE!

No web cam action, but hey - your words, my talent - and Voila! We have a winning prose selection.

Yeah, I know - all of one lonely, bored reader - who accidentally clicked on my blog is going to read this... And they're not going to be bored enough to write me - even if they've managed to read this far.

But that's o.k.. Because some day (at least in my grandiose dreams) some one will actually come and laugh at these ramblings.

Until then,

Have a splendid day!

Sir Spamalot Strikes... But WHY?

I get this in the email today... Everyone gets these kinds of things but this one... I dunno... This one gave me pause and then made me laugh.

Do You have enough pwoer to provide your patrner high
quality SE-X on St. Valentine day?
Get a MON-STER pwoer, nothing can bring your ererction down!
Show your partner the PWOER of your LOEV and she will always remember You.
Loev will ALWAYS be associated with YOU!
Your order will be PRIVATE, nobody will know what You use.
Follow this link and get SSPECIAL DISSCOOUNT for that period:


So I actually read this. If it can be called reading material.

I think to myself. WHY? And most important of all - WHY ME?

First, it is so badly written that a second grade dropout could have done better.

Second, I uhm... well... uhm... don't... uhm... have... uhm.... a thingamabobber that gets erected... Yeah.. uhm... I mean... Uhm... My hubby does... But I don't own one... on my... uhm... body.

And why would I want MON-STER pwoer? That leaves me imagining evil, creepy, crawling things. And that certainly wouldn't put me in the mood for this so called LOEV that is talked about in this short blurb.

And what in the goodness gracious is Sspecial Discooooooount? Do I really want one? I don't have a thingamabobber and I don't want MON-STER Pwoer and I wouldn't be ready for LOEV to have S-EX and have it all associated with me ------ with HER.

Dude - get spell checker.

And while you're spell checking ask yourself this grand question:

What makes you think that I'm going to click on anything but the delete button? And how did you manage to get through my spam filter...

And why do you bother? You're so wasting my time and yours.

OK. I feel better now.

You want to know something even more funny?

The author of the little ad...


Get this...

Michael Jackson

Have a nice day everyone!

Monday, February 13, 2006

Snow and the Views of Life... Snow Musings

Reading another blog - which is fastly becoming quite a habit, I came across a post about the weather in New York.

(Which happens to be experiencing a large, robust storm at the moment. Complete with... you guessed it... Snow!)

Where I live snow is second nature for many months of the year - it is par for the course. Although there truly are no igloos - unless they are having a competition for igloo building or one gets stuck in the arctic, there is no reason for them. Since we all live in houses and do not drive mush dog teams to work.

(Someday I will elaborate on Alaska - however this post is about something else, entirely different - about something that amuses me.)

Sometimes I find things highly amusing.

Like... the snow.

Yes. The snow is amusing.

Perhaps not the snow itself, but the reaction of people regarding the snow.

It varies greatly with each person - and each individual has such a unique outlook on it - that I thought maybe this might be a way to explain how people view "LIFE" in general.

Figure it this way:

  • Some stare at the snow in wide-eyed wonder. Childlike. Amazed that such a wondrous thing could fall from the skies to blanket the earth. They long to play in the snow, build snowmen and skate on the frozen lakes. They can't wait for enough snow to pile up outside so that they can exuberantly make snow angels and build forts within the white wonderland. They stand outside - tongue exposed to catch the tiniest snowflake in order to envelope the snow within and to taste this tiny miracle from above.
  • Some stare at the snow in misery and anguish. Their eyes are seeing a day filled with nothing but traffic snarls and the shoveling of walkways. They hold no joy in watching the flakes fall, but instead think of the heating bills that must be paid. They imagine how long they will be captured inside because they will not be able to go outside since it is too cold and too much of a bother to try and walk or drive in such slippery and annoying stuff.
  • Some watch the snow with an "artiste's" eye. Imagining Kincaid paintings of cozy houses and warm fires. They long to cuddle up to their loved ones - or with a book beside a fireplace. They watch the sparkling streets as they drive, amazed at the beauty of a crystalline world. They drink hot cocoa with tons of marshmallows and equate the falling snowflakes to post cards and holiday cards. They immerse themselves in the feeling of holidays and family dinners and get togethers. They blow warm air on the windows and make designs on them, tracing patterns or letters, or even little hearts.
  • Some take no notice of the change in weather at all, other than to accommodate with the necessary clothing or transportation. They march steadfastly to work, school or whatever daily routine they have going on. Barely noticing the change in temperature or the iciness surrounding them. They ignore the frostbiting temperatures and walk into work prepared to do business just as any other day - expecting everyone else surrounding them to do the same. To them, it matters not if there is snow on the ground or not - it doesn't seem to phase them one way or another.

Interesting I say.

Perhaps seeing the different varieties I have chosen to exemplify the views of snow - you might see yourself - in the way that you view life.

Which one are you?

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Why Blog?

I have been playing around with the fonts and font types for this journal.

What an interesting concept - to blog.

Perhaps we should say: To blog or not to blog... that is the question.

Why do people blog? Why am I blogging?

Before I answer that, I must answer the questions that provide the clues for all written materials: Why do people write.

Well silly... To communicate, of course.

We, as humans need to communicate.

Some of us perform communication daily to our friends and family - we tell them verbally what we think, what we've done, how we feel and what our plans are.

In this day and age, families and friends are spread out far and wide - to distant remote areas.

Before the advent of the Internet, we wrote letters or called on the phone. Now that the Internet has become a way of communication, we can produce so much more communication - to share with so many more people, than ever before.

So why do we blog?

We blog so that we can communicate. Whether it be solely to ourselves or to share our thoughts and ideas with others.

Some of us want others to read what we write and say - "Ooooh. I so identify with that person!".

Or we want them to talk back to us in our own personal forum type of blog, where comments are the way to communicate to the reader of the blog. (Even if it is only ourselves reading it.)

I blog, because I need to write. To shape my words into a form of communication, and because I want to network with others of a like mind (writing, reading, introspection, etc.). I would like participation, but I know that at the same time, this blogging - well... it's kind of personal.

I hope that answers your questions.

On a side note, I started blogging after I read a few agent's blogs. (Yes, publishing industry agents.) I liked what I read, and I have placed one of the blogs in my links section.

So if you are into humor or other blogs, might I suggest that you visit this link?

You are sure to be captivated, as was I.

Sleep - It comes unbidden...


It's preferable to sleep for me... If only my body agreed.

I wish that I could stay awake forever - and not have to rest this vessel of life. There are so many things to see, to do - that it is a shame to not be able to do it all.

I breathe life in and exhale experience.

And now, I must shut my eyes, for the light is coming up through the window and I need to be refreshed for the next bout of work and writing.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

My Job

I am at work, and at the place where I work, there is nothing to do at this second.

Sure, there are papers that can be gone through - things to be filed. But my soul holds no joy for these petty actions. I want to be doing something exciting - something fun.

However... At my job there is something unique... Something that keeps me here... Something that is worth all the moments of boredom.

Sometimes it happens quickly and is over in seconds.

Other times it can last the entire shift.

The adrenaline rush, the knowledge that what I do has an effect on others, that I control - if only for a few moments - the destiny of lives in my hands and that I must be very careful or the very lives I hold can be destroyed beyond repair.

I am a good person and I know this to my core. It isn't a power trip to feel the adrenaline, but more of a worry that I won't be able to save this one. Or that one. Or that someone truly could die if I spoke the wrong word.


Not in the ha-ha-ha kind of way - but in the odd, strange, bizarre kind of way.

Funny that words can change a life in a matter of moments.

Words can communicate ideas, thoughts, meaning - directions, feelings, needs, wants and desires.

Words are through which all are made equal or left in the dust to wither and die.

Words are amazing things and daily I must use them to persuade, to plead, to agree, to share and to demand in order to make sure that everything runs smoothly.

And yes - lives do depend on my words... Daily.

So perhaps while I may be bored at the moment, this is a job where I make a difference without being noticed, because at the end of the day - it is not "I" who is labeled the hero - but someone else.

And I think that this is Ok.


My solicited query arrived yesterday...


Now I have no idea what will happen. Will I get a quick - thanks, but no thanks?

Or will I get the almost even more dreaded: Please send full MS?

I'm a newbie and I want to scream, I should be spending every single waking moment writing my MS and editing it. I should have everything completed, but not knowing if it is good enough or if it is ready for someone else to read - even though... sigh... I do know it's good enough... Well... It's driving me nuts.

I know I write well - I know I can paint pictures with my words. I don't know how I learned to do it - it just happened.

It's like magic flows through my fingertips and no matter what I am writing about, I can expound it gracefully.

I shall edit the MS again tomorrow at work. That way I can feel it - live it - breath it. And it shall be beautiful. That and a few cups of coffee will get me what? A dollar? Hmmmm....

We shall see.

Friday, February 10, 2006


Finally, I submitted to an agent.

It's only a story I've had laying around in the whirlpools of my mind for ages.

It's only my blood spilled figuratively onto pages.

I picked out an agent - based on my perception of what she is. I didn't think about what she could do for me, but more of what I could do for her.

I read other people's writings and I know, down to my soul, that the way that I write - for the correct reader can be astounding.

Is that egotistical of me? No. It's truth. I may need polishing and I may need a little more time to get it more perfected, but my writing is the one thing I've held on to throughout all of my years of life.

I have no idea what she will say about the partial she requested. I have no idea if she'll even read it. But I do know that it is a good set so far.

I keep pulling the story out and thinking of how to fix it. Perhaps I'll rewrite it all during the next week or so. Before she can slam me down with a rejection - before she can say - sorry... this isn't for me...

But even if she does - I believe in me now. And I think I have what it takes to do this.

But I will admit, I'm terrified.

So - I cross my fingers instead.

Time Tells All

Today is the day...

I tell myself this as I sit down and prepare to write an online blog.

I've always been a private person - terrified that if the world views the real me... The one that I've kept hidden from everyone, all of my life - they will take one look, and see me for the idiot that I've always believed myself to be.

Until just very recently, I never believed that my writing was good enough for the eyes of others.

It took the love of one man and the strength of my friends to teach me that perhaps... Just perhaps... I have talent within that should be shown to the world.

For once in my life I am starting to think that I just may have what it takes to write professionally.

I've always written.

If there was pen and paper or some other way to get words written down, I've used it.

The words felt like a demon that needed to come forth and spill out; poetry, stories, journals, little quotes, thoughts, ideas and even just daily lists or plans. It didn't matter. I just had to write.

Some days the words flowed like madness, spreading across the pages to plague my hands with cramps and empty my mind. Leaving me drained and exhausted like a marathon torture session, yet at the same time lightening my spirit and awakening the bloodthirst for even more writing.

Other days, the words stuttered into existence, needing to be transcribed - but taking their precious time to burst forth into being.

Deep you say?

Well step into my mind and fall into the pools of thoughts swirling and churning in rapid succession.

Dark you say?

Not at all. In fact, very uplifting. Very calming and extremely enlightening.

How can such an in depth, introspective process be enlightening?

Simply, I say...

For, if I had not written all those moments in my life, I believe that I would never have survived the past. I would have perished in the need to express the constant flow of creativity. I would have had no existence without those words...

And now, believing in myself - where I once believed myself to be nothing but a fool - I believe that this alone - this incredible need to create words into something coherent...



This is what makes a true writer.