I can’t remember the last time I was alone for an indefinite period of time. I mean, Motley’s always been here (excepting camp, trips, Rawhide Ranch, that sort of thing) for 19 years. And Rott’s been here (excepting a night or two at his pal Curt’s and 3 months while he waited to get a Prop 9 I think it’s called) for almost 10 years. Now, I’m not sure when Motley’s coming home. I know she will, just not when. And Rott, well he won’t be home for awhile. I’m really freaking alone. It feels… weird.

Since I’m alone this weekend, I might try to write my Zanctuary writing competition piece. It’s 5K words. I did 6K for Pink Chair Diaries in a day. Of course, I was a little inspired there. I’m hoping the Z piece calls me because I’d like to have it done.

Today, since I’m basically free from constraints of any kind, my Friday pimping having been yesterday, I thought I’d give you a little taste of what it’s like to do what I do. I need to write a post for the Bar. It’s from a male point of view in the first person. The guy just found out that he’s related to the Kohl family. He’s sitting at a table with his cousins and his best friend at his half sister’s wedding reception. His half brothers are sitting at the table with the wedding party. One half brother is accepting of him, the other is being a serious prick. The prick’s new girlfriend is sitting with them, as are his cousins’ wives.

I have a little bit of an idea of where the post needs to go. Nothing fully formed. Griffin (the character I’m writing) has thus far been really good about speaking to me when I start typing. He’s got a couple of secrets he’s hiding. One is a secret I can’t tell you in case any of the Bar people come by. Another secret is that he just found his bloodmate, another vampire named Dante. Dante has 2 bloodmates. Griffin and a man named Roman. Roman just happens to be Griffin’s best friend. Nasty little triangle, eh? Dante knows about Griffin and she knows about Roman. She just doesn’t know that they know each other. Neither of the men know that they are the other man in her life. Messy, isn’t it? I love it when it gets all sticky like this.

So Griffin and Roman are sitting at this table, each of them keeping a secret from the other. They’re sitting with the Kohls who are damned wary of Griffin. Griffin also once had the hots for his cousin’s wife because she posed in Playboy before she was married. The guy is seriously uncomfortable.

Now, that you know this… I’m gonna start writing his post, here in this window. Not in Word like I usually do. You’ll see my boo boos etc because I’m not going to edit them out. You’ll see how I took the info I just gave you and craft the beginning of my Griffin post. Ready? Let’s go…

Sitting through Sascha’s wedding ceremony hadn’t been too bad. Sitting through the reception was making me edgy. For one, having Johann’s girlfriend Lacey plop her ass down next to me was NOT going to endear me to my new brother. He was going to want blood for this… my blood… blood that would spill as he ripped my nuts from my body with one wicked twist of his hand. I bit back a sigh. The asshole wasn’t even trying. And regardless of what Lacey said, I wasn’t going to believe in an accepting Johann until I saw evidence of one.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roman shift uncomfortably. He knew no one here but me. It was just like Roman to get all dressed up in his best Armani suit and attend something like this with me, even though he hated this kind of function with a passion. Later, I would pick his brain because his observations were important to me. I trusted Roman as I trusted no one else. What he saw and heard while in the presence of the Kohls was important to me.

My eyes flicked over to Alaric and Lex. I suppressed a shiver. Lex Valentine was still one of the hottest women on the planet as far as I was concerned. Even married to my 6’6″ cousin Alaric and pregnant with his son, she still outshone every woman in the room in my eyes. I had to keep reminding myself not to look at her breasts or remember what they looked like naked in the magazine photos. Alaric was being protective of her, as usual. He wasn’t stupid.

Next to Alaric and Lex, across the table from me, was Lucius and his new wife Opal. I’d felt Lucius’ eyes on me often during dinner. I didn’t blame the guy for staring. I’d been staring at him too. After all, we looked almost exactly alike. Looking at Lucius was almost like looking in a mirror.

There ya go. The beginning of my post. No edits. No stopping. I wonder how much I’ll have to edit it later after I finish it and before posting to the Bar. So far, all the Griffin posts have been good ones though. He has so much going on in his head, it’s easy to write him. Characters with less going on in their lives are tough to write. Sometimes you have to stretch to find something to write about them. Luckily, my fellow Bar writers always seem to enjoy my posts.

That’s enough freedom for me for now. I’m going to bed where my sheets will tangle my legs and take back some of this freedom. I wish all you Americans a very happy 4th of July. Don’t eat too much or set your asses on fire with rockets. Oh! And if any of you want Rott’s recipe for a really loud BOOM… all you need are one of those small rockets (about 4 inches long) and an empty 2 liter soda bottle. HEH.


I have too many cookies on my plate. In my world, that translates to too many storylines. Hence the title of this post. Storylines… Cookies… Oreos… you get my drift. I love having things to write. If I don’t have anything to write I would go stir crazy because basically, I am a hermit. I don’t go anywhere. My blog should be Socially Dead, not Motley’s.

Last night, I had a phone call that was a little depressing. Rott called his mom and she called me. She had relayed my message to him that I loved him, and I missed him. He didn’t give her a reply message. So, me being me, all night I tossed and turned, worrying about my future, if I was really going to be single again. Single and 48 (which I will be on Halloween this year) isn’t something I ever thought I would face. I figured I’d kick the bucket sometime and leave him the insurance money. I never thought that when his “vacation” is done, that he wouldn’t come home to me. Now, I’m faced with that possibility and I can’t believe how painful it is. I’ve lost lots of people, so I know how it’s done. Maybe in a few days I won’t worry so much about this, but for the moment, the possibility is very fresh and ouchy. Which brings me back to the Storieos.

When I hurt, I write. I lose myself in my “people”. The problem is, I have too many Storieos at the moment. I thought maybe I’d give you all a look at them so you can see what I’m juggling here.

Zanctuary Writing Contest: I came in 2nd last year. I have a rather strange idea for this year’s piece, which I can’t post even an excerpt of on the net or it’s grounds for disqualification. Think Defending Your Life meets The Wizard of Oz meets “your life flashing before your eyes” meets deities like oh, Mother Nature and Hermes. (They aren’t the ones in the story. I’m just saying they’re something like that.) I’ve got an outline and a couple pages written. It’s due July 31.

Pink Chair Diaries: I posted The Were and the Chair on the site, but the commenters were wanting a sequel with Drake, the man who sent Weylyn the chair with the dildo attached. I rather liked that idea so I came up with the idea of backtracking from Weylyn to Drake.

In Drake’s story, it explains how he came to know about the pink chair that he eventually sends to Weylyn. As I was writing Drake, his neighbor Nick began to burn a whole in my brain. So this is going to be a trilogy. Nick is the one who first gets one of the pink chairs. Drake finds out about the chair from Nick and sends one to Weylyn. I need to finish Drake and then start Nick. Each piece will be about 6,000 words. There’s no deadline for it. I just would like to have Drake done by the end of July and Nick by the end of August.

Derby Fever 2008 Equinics Diary: Every Olympic year, including Winter years, they have what is called the Equinics, which is a series of horse races for our sim horses. They have a virtual torch lighting ceremony, and every residency (groups of trainers) participates in the flame trail across the world. The torch goes from residency to residency, each res carrying the torch part way around the world before handing off to the next res. Every res has someone write a diary of their travels. I belong to 2 residencies, CR Racers and Great Plains. GP is the res that I run with a fellow trainer named Fabman. (Don’t go there. His name may be Brad, but he lives in Michigan.)

I’ve written GP’s diary since the beginning of the res, I think. We’re the only res in the sim where you can say the word FUCK. So our diary is always irreverent and filled with odd, quirky, amusing things. It helps when your residents are pretty much the strangest ones in the sim. I can’t remember when this is due, but it should be in the next week or two. I’ve hosted the last 2 or 3 diaries so I’m doing that again this year, but this year… I made them a BLOG. If you wanna see it, it’s at 2008 Equinics Diaries.

The Bar Story: I have so many storylines going here that it’s not funny. Some are on their way out – on the road to a hiatus for the characters. Others are just starting up. Here’s the worst of the mess:

Hot stories coming up:

  • Lex: She and Alaric are about to get swept up into some serious shit because they are Kohls. Nevermind that my girl with fangs is preggers now, she’s still my hottest character.
  • Tarren: She and her mate Helios are off on Paps’ yacht Janie after the wedding. No hiatus for these two in sight. In fact, pirates are on the horizon, and some surprises too!
  • Nyx: The McClaren’s story is about to hit the volcanic zone. Macaire is about to make his move and both Nyx and her mate Valerian are in a lot of danger. Hiatus only after Macaire is dealt with.
  • The love triangle of Dante, Griffin and Roman.
  • Griffin’s issues with the Kohl family.
  • Bram & Jensen’s budding relationship.
  • St. James and a medical issue for vampires.
  • The Search for Oz which encompasses Demetri, Dylan, Maxus, Garren, Mordred and Oz himself.
  • Rune and Gracie’s budding romance.
  • Dominic and Ainsley’s romance.
  • Drake’s search for Garren which eventually includes Nick Diamond.

Continuing stories that aren’t quite as hot:

  • Weylyn: He’ll be around for periodic random sex scenes until the real story of Drey, Ran, and Weylyn’s clan gets off the ground.
  • Bianca & Spyder’s troubled relationship.
  • Sixx and Sammy and the question of her amnesia.
  • Althea and her forbidden love for Lorenzo.
  • Rick, Seth, and Rick’s family who are about to arrive in Paris.
  • The Mother of all Vampire’s family: Damaris, her sister the Atersilex Queen of the Vamps, and Mr. Fabulous the mysterious.

About to go on Hiatus:

  • Rhiannon: After her mate’s brother’s wedding, she and Tobias are off to Paps’ villa in the south of France, which signals a hiatus for these characters.
  • Carlisle: My mega rock star is going into rehearsals for her tour. She and her mate Stein won’t be around as much, and soon, they’ll be off on tour, which means a hiatus is in the works.

There are a host of other characters I haven’t been writing because to tell their story either requires other elements to be completed or other writers’ assistance. The other writers don’t have a lot of time right now and neither do I.

The last Storieo on my plate is this blog. I love it so I don’t wanna stop writing here. I do have lazy days though and even though I promised new criteria for the Marcus and Alaric awards by July 1, I may have to push it back and do some kind of late summer/early fall contest instead. Not sure yet. We’ll see how things shake out.

It’s totally time for me to have some milk with my storieos and get back to the Bar wedding. Things are really hopping there! Lots of excitement that has nothing to do with the actual wedding. Don’t you just love a soap opera? Okay, a MADE UP soap opera! *wink*

Have a great weekend everyone!

Too Much

There’s too much emotion out here in this corner of the Blogosphere. I’m swimming in the stuff. I have a couple of things to say and they are prolly not things that will gain me any fans. Yeah, I don’t like lying or cheating. Yes, there are people I like who have cheated and lied. Usually, they didn’t lie or cheat on me. Well, actually, no one’s ever cheated on me. Yes, if I don’t have first hand knowledge, proof positive of something, I don’t like to rush to judgment. If the reasons for why something happened are not readily available, I don’t like to assume. I probably should have been a lawyer. I often have a very logical mind. I also have been accused of being a cold blooded, cold hearted bitch.

What are you going to believe? What you see and hear of me on this blog and the other sites I go to on a daily basis? What my kid says about me on her blog? What my sister would tell you if you met her? (She’s the one who’s repeatedly tarred me with the cold bitch label.) What do you believe about me? What do you KNOW?

Are you disappointed in me now that you know my sister believes those things about me? If I make a mistake, if I’m confused and upset and I make poor choices in my life and blog about them here, will you tell the internet that you’re disappointed in me, that I’m a liar or not what I presented myself to you as? Does my whole blogging “reputation” come down your assumptions about who I am on the inside, as misguided as that may be?

I’m not taking a stance on either side of the fence in the drama that happened. It’s a horrible tragedy, and neither of the extremes in stance that I have heard appeal to me. My sense is that the truth lies somewhere in the middle and no one but the participants really knows the whole truth.

However, seeing and hearing all the opinions about this, does raise some questions with me. I find myself looking over my shoulder, wondering what fucked up thing about me will be the thing that turns first one person, and then many others who listen to that person and allow those opinions to color them, against me. Because truthfully, I’m not pristine. I would never claim to be nor present myself in that manner. I’m a hugely flawed person, from my emotions, to my motivations, to my heart, and my soul. Which one of those flaws will one day disappoint you?

Devil’s advocate is a role I can never seem to shake. I always have to ask those questions and look at the other side. I’m eternally optimistic and practical at the same time. I have a scientist’s love of facts and digging for them. I have the psychologist’s yearning to delve into the psyches of others and understand their motivations. I like people who are real. Or are at least as real as I can determine them to be based on the information I have to work with.

I was really gonna do a Thursday Thirteen about 12 giraffe photos in my My Pictures folder. I guess my thoughts just took over and wrote this though. I don’t want to be judged by all of you, yet I know that every word I type, whether it’s funny or reveals my heart, are words that you will all judge… even if you say you won’t. I’m a big enough girl to accept that people will judge me. I learned long ago that is just another part of human nature and to rail against it is to isolate myself from the world.

So, instead, here are my thoughts for you to see, to judge, to like, to dislike, to do with what you will. I’ll be back tomorrow, whether all of you stop by or not. I’ve been through too many brouhahas and other shit in this life to let people’s feelings about me stop me from doing something I like doing. After all, you’re entitled to your feelings and reactions… and so am I.

Maybe next week I’ll do the 12 giraffe photos. You might want to stop by and see them. One of them is giraffe sex. I’m not quite sure how I found that photo. It was completely by accident, I swear. And it’s funny. Well, really what’s funny is the way Shinygal laughs at it. Yeah. I think I will post the giraffe pics next Thursday. I hope you come by to see them.

BTW… here’s the pic of me at the company picnic that Motley took with her Nikon. No makeup. All grey haired, and age spotted, with crow’s feet and bags under the eyes. WYSIWYG. If you’re not afraid of all that reality click on the photo and look at the larger version. Maybe if you look real close… you’ll see into my soul.

Tuesday Truth

Earlier tonight I decided what my post would be about for Tuesday. Then I got caught up in all the blogs about TC08. (Oh, and one disclaimer before I really get started – It’s not a big pimpin’ Friday and I’m tired so I’m not gonna link all the names I drop. Most of them are in my blogroll and most of them you already visit anyway.) I checked out that Uppercase Woman blog. Several things struck me about her post, but the one thing I seriously took away with me from her blog was this – I’m not an uppercase woman. Every time I type the letter “I”, I have to backspace. i am clearly a lower case woman.

Mr. Shiny and Hilly beat me to the punch with confessions, which isn’t surprising at all. I come late to things except work and appointments. I came late to blogging, only having begun in January of this year. The internet has always been a safe haven for me. I can be all the things that Life won’t let me be in the realm known as RL. Here, on the net, I can be a person who has strength and humor, who is fearless and fun. It’s funny to find that when you’re almost half a century old, that you are still the wallflower that you were at 18, 25, 37, and 46. I know that, faced with all of you in the realm of RL, I would either say totally the wrong thing, say nothing at all, or try too fucking hard to fit in. Because the truth of the matter is that I fit nowhere. Not even inside my own skin.

My truths are not as painful as they once were. I guess the passage of years is good for something, if only to dull the edge of the pain. Venues such as blogs are my medium. I am a writer. I’ve been one from the moment I could hold a pencil and string words together. Writing is my way of expressing myself because Lord knows, I do a really shitty job of it when I open my mouth. I don’t tell my child often enough that I love her. Yet, it’s very easy for me to rail at her and make her feel bad because she won’t take out the trash. And I know, if she wasn’t here… I would be truly alone. There is a comfort in the fact that she is typing away in IM in the next room. If I died in my bed tonight, she might not know until tomorrow morning, but at least I wouldn’t be dead in my bed for weeks with no one to find me. And I’d like to think that she would miss me the way I miss my mom and dad.

I am trapped by a wealth of fears that I can escape only when I write. When Adam wrote that he spent two thousand dollars going to TequilaCon, I realized I would truly never be able to go. I couldn’t string together $200 let alone ten times that. I have a job that doesn’t have any room for growth. I have a degree that’s not quite finished, so another, better job would be a stretch. I make a measly $40K a year (and no that’s not a slam against the company I work for, but more of a testimony to my lack of earning power) and live paycheck to paycheck to put a roof over our heads. We have been homeless countless times over the past 10 years. My credit is wrecked and so is whatever self esteem and hope I had at 18. Except when I write.

Putting the words here to make you feel what i feel is all I know how to do. I do it here, and at the Bar. Now I’ve submitted my 6K words to the Pink Chair Diaries, so maybe my words will reach another audience. Still, even though I want to meet all of you, feel a huge yen to meet you… if I did meet you, I wouldn’t know what to say, or would say something heinously stupid. My mouth cannot string words together the way my fingers can here in this medium. i am afraid to meet even one of you. Here, you like me. IRL, maybe you won’t.

So my Tuesday Truth is this, even if i had the money to come and meet you, i might not. Even David from BellaDaddyBlog, whom I have known for 30 years, and whom I will always love… I’m afraid to leave my hidey hole to see him. I have failed on so many levels as a person that I am afraid to try to make friends with someone only to fail at yet another thing.

So here I sit with my words. Cold comfort, I hear someone murmur. Yes. Sometimes they are, but in the end they are all I have to show you who i am. Because if I do manage to meet you, you’ll probably have a hard time making out those words, as I mumble them around my size 9 foot that will more than likely end up stuffed in my mouth.

Fake Horses & Pornfest

I love Trotter. He always makes me laugh. In a different way than Irish because, God and the sim knows, they have completely different styles of humor. Trotter is a friend from the horse racing sim game I play. Trot’s wise with a dry sense of humor and a frank appreciation for women. I whined in the sim chat that no one was commenting on my blog. Trot says, “Where’s the pics?” We all thought the same thing… Trot wanted nekkid women which reminds me of pornfest. So I decided I would talk about Trotter today. Trotter, the sim, and pornfest.

Pornfest is a creation of my S.O. Rott. Rott hooked up all the TVs in the condo to a porn feed from his DVD player. You can see porn in virtually every room in the house – he calls it Pornfest. Of course, when my kid was younger he could only do Pornfest when she went to her dad’s for the weekend or when we were gone for the day at work and school.

I used to tell the story of Pornfest in the sim chat room and most of the guys were complimentary. I mean, c’mon… what man isn’t into porn? The only ones I’ve ever met who didn’t like it were the holy rollers. And they prolly did too but just wouldn’t admit it. Just because you believe in God or Jesus doesn’t mean you can’t get turned on by people having sex.

Trotter is unabashedly male. I can smell the testosterone through the computer, I swear. He’s low key about it… not like Vett and his Girls Gone Wild attitude. No, Trotter is suave and uses his dry humor to advantage. I always think of him as the James Bond of the sim. Shaken, not stirred. Although I suppose in Trot’s case he’s stirred, not shaken! LOL So if Trot’s Bond, I guess that makes Irish Felix Leiter. Felix is the CIA agent who is Bond’s pal. He’s the Jerry Lewis to Trot’s Dean Martin. They are both hot as hell to the sim females although some of them refuse to admit it and prefer to hit on Greg. Heh.

Greg’s charm not withstanding, all the women seem to acknowledge Trot as the man about town (and the sim) that he is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one disagree with him in the sim chat. Unless we’re talking sires and breeding. EVERYONE disagrees about THAT. It’s the universal cause of discord because no two people agree on breeding except the Super guys from Del Penn. I’ve never seen such fighting as the simmers do over breeding fake horses. Breed this one over. No, don’t. This is a good breeding. No, it’s not. Dixie Union is a good sire. I’ve never had the urge to use him. And on and on. I know, if you’re reading this and you’re not from the sim you’re going WTF is she yammering about?

The people from the sim are as fierce about it as others are about porn. Some people can’t live without at least a little porn entertainment in their lives. The simmers can’t live without their fake horses and the whole sim lifestyle of breeding and training and betting. Okay, some of the simmers can’t live without porn either. Like Trotter insinuating that he wouldn’t comment on my blog unless I posted pics… meaning naked ones. Maybe I’ll post a naked Kelly Monaco just for him this week. LOL

I guess we all have our obsessions. Mine is Marcus. Ok, and the sim. *sigh* Okay, Pornfest too. You got me there. Now I’ve confessed to everything. Well, maybe not everything. Heh. Time for me to go. The hot grocery delivery guy is due here anytime with my food! Just another little obsession of mine… like the fake horses and pornfest. Only this obsession breathes. Heh Heh.

Laters peeps!