Just received the new galley copy of The Other Side of 30, and it looks awesome!  After one final proofreading,
it's time for publication!
Although this is a 2nd Edition release, it's still pretty exciting because this will be my first project under the New
Renaissance Ink imprint, smoothing the way for the Up from Here project. I'm sure the contributors to that project have been wondering what's taking so long, but they've been super patient with getting it off the ground.
Whew!  Talk about a long time coming, but I'm learning that it's best not to rush quality products.  The first release was pretty good, but I know that there was plenty of room for improvement.  I think this one is going to be awesome!
Thanks, so much, for everyone's support and encouragement!

I started this petition.  I'd like you to sign it.  I'm having some trouble gettng the link widget thing to work properly, but if you see it and want to support it, thanks.

The truth is that I'm tired of feeling harassed by debt collectors who claim that they just "bought" my college student loans, and want to "help" me resolve the debt into an agreeable repayment plan.  Whatever, man.

I still don't understand how what originated as a $40-$60K debt has ballooned into a $122K debt.  Really?  I don't accept it.  I don't believe it; and if I had $122K just lying around, I'd still want something other than the scripted conversation from a service rep to convince me that I owe all that money. 

News flash:  You can harass me.  You can berate me.  You can even threaten me with wage garnishment and witholding tax returns, and whatever else the hell an "involuntary collection measure" is.  But you cannot bully me.  After a year getting rockets thrown at my head, unable to sleep, eat, or take a shit in peace, a year of my life dealing with the deaths and injuries of my comrades, beat down, burned out, stressed out for months on end, ironically, supporting and defending some random debt collectors' rights to phone thug me in an "attempt" to collect money that I'm not even 100% sure is theirs to collect....I think it's safe to say that bullying tactics do not work on me.

Sure, I borrowed some money.  And three degrees later, I don't know anything more about how a petition works now than I did when I was watching the Schoolhouse Rock cartoons on Saturday mornings, watching Bill sing about hoping to become a law.  I suppose that the petition, with enough signatures, eventually makes it to Congress.  If that's the case, maybe Congress will support a bill that will become a law for the President to sign that will forgive the debt completely.  Awesomeness!

It sucks that you can't, at least not without some great level of pain and anguish, file some kind of bankruptcy to discharge such a debt. 

ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS seems more than a bit of an exaggeration. Give me a break.  Or don't.  But leave me the hell alone about it.

So...with all of this recent hubub about petitions, and in light of the fact that any petition can be started and signed and seen, for any number of reasons, I started this one.

Like anyone who starts a petition, I think it's a worthy one.  I'm nicknaming it something the military student loan bail-out for combat vets.  I think it would be pretty awesome if that would happen.  Stimulate the economy, alleviate some stress, and make those bastards leave us alone.  Sure would make a difference in my life.  And I'm sure I'm not the only one.

So, to add to the awesomeness that is already my writing life, last week, I was nominated for the Liebster Blog Award by my friend, fellow blogger (and subscriber) Eva Rieder. 
As part of the nomination, I have been given a few questions to answer.  I am flattered and encouraged that someone is enjoying my blog.  I'm not sure what else to do besides answer the questions and post them here, so here goes:

1. What prompted you to set up a blog?
I started my first blog in/around 2005, on a site called BlogIt, because I wanted to connect with other writers and possible readers for my yet-to-be-born book, The Other Side of 30.  I guess I must have caught the blog bug, because I've had several blogs since the BlogIt blog, including on MySpace, Blogger, She Writes, Wordpress, and on my publishing site, New Renaissance Ink.  I started this Write on Time  blog in 2010, shortly after I self-published my book, again, hoping to connect with potential readers.

2. When did you discover you liked to write, and why?
I discovered my love for writing when I was about seven years old.  I wanted to be like my uncle Harvey, who wrote poems.  I like the way his poems made people think, and smile, and even moved to tears.  I wanted to do that.

3. What is your favorite writing setting? (Coffee shop, office, etc.)
I like to write at home on the weekends.  I guess that's because that's where and when I get most of my down time with very few distractions.

4. What is your favorite time of day? Least favorite?
My favorite time of day is around 4:30pm on Fridays.  My least favorite time of day is about 9:30pm on Sunday (or whatever day is the last day of the weekend).

5. If you could have anything you wanted, at this moment, what would it be?
At this moment, a bacon sandwich and a tall glass of cold raspberry lemonade.

6. What is your guilty pleasure?
Watching poorly done Youtube videos, and then talking about how poorly done they are.

7. If you were trapped on an island with only three things, what would they be?
Food, baby wipes, a good book.

8. What is your favorite animal?
I don't seem to have a favorite animal.

9. How would you describe yourself in five words or less?
Nerdy, but nearly normal

10. You are offered $100,000,000, but you may never write again. Do you take the money? (Crazy question, I know!)
Nope!

11. What is your favorite television show, and why?
The original Law & Order, whenever I catch it on. 

Now, I believe the rules require me to nominate other bloggers and ask a series of .  I don't read a lot of blogs, but I am subscribed to many of the ones that Eva already nominated.  One other to which I'm subscribed is Insatiable Booksluts.  It's a blog maintained by three bloggers who read and review books by lesser known authors.  I think they're pretty cool.

In politics, most is spin, very little is truth, and perception is reality; but except for a very few, most people find politics too boring, or too confusing to dig into the weeds of it to figure things out for themselves.

Politics is so ugly, especially around election time. I mostly hate engaging in any sort of debate or dialogue about it, because the truths that are, will hardly ever been seen or discussed, and suddenly everything is personal. We only get accusations and innuendo, and elections depend on people being too emotional to be rational.

We've seen accusation and innuendo tear apart friendships, sever what you once believed were strong family ties, rip nations in half, while the truth stays buried, except to the players of the game. Voters are looked upon as pawns, and smear campaigns and red herring tactics are how they use us to their own advantage, to advance personal or political  agendas.

But the reason politicians play emotional cards, like race, religion, and social class, is because those cards always strike the most exposed nerves. THESE ARE THE CARDS that make people, normally peaceful, agreeable, and non-confrontational people, sit up and pay attention, and consider how they may be being affected by someone's words or intentions.

Doing this is the easiest way for politicians to get people riled up and to take sides; and taking sides, unfortunately, is what it takes to win an election.

Unfortunately, it's not just any one political party guilty of it. They all do it. Democrats, Republicans, et. al. We just only notice it more when "the other side" does it.

The race and religion card topics and tactics, as well as those that discuss the military (we're always a handy buzz-word to have), appeal to our basest natures, and people are easily manipulated by the emotions that drive our deep beliefs. It only takes one or two trigger words for the things that mean the most to us will be laid bare.

I've learned that when these "icebergs" are exposed, that the difference between perception and truth is non-existent, and what's underneath our surface thoughts gets revealed in none-too-pleasant ways.

Most of these "icebergs" are not even identified until someone (e.g., a politician, campaign manager) plays and exploits a card of a sensitive nature, and then wait for the voters to draw the lines in the sand. We may even surprise ourselves at where our loyalties lie and why.

All that said, remember that countless people have gone the distance for you; many beaten, battered, burned and blown to hell for your right to vote. Vote your conscience, whatever it is, and allow your friends and family to do the same. The bottom line is: If you don't vote, YOU'RE A POO-POO HEAD. Your mind may as well be on mute, so your mouth should stay on mute.

So...the hunk across the way apparently already has a love-lust interest. My chances of ravishing his body are a dwindling by the moment.  Well, if that don't beat all.
I suppose I knew this was possible. Not that my nameless neighbor would get his own potential boo-bunny-sex slave just when I was warming up to him.  But that I've created a post that leads to another post.  So be it. 
He really is completely lust-worthy.  To the point that if even says anything else to me, I'm just going to jump on him.  Nobody ovulates THAT much.
I think I must blame everything on ovulating.  How else do I explain my lingering thoughts and sudden tinges of envy?  Just when I was ready to flaunt my feminine wiles and let nature take its course.  Hmph.  That heffa.
All I know is that he just better not come around me talking and smiling, or I'm just gonna pass out and let him let me have my way with him.
Scene set up: 
Me:  Walking to the mailbox is bare, freshly pedicured feet, wearing a white camisole and black yoga pants.  (I'm still fine enough to pull it off.) 
Him:  Just happening to be coming home from work.  Flashes smile.  Says something. It doesn't matter what.
He holds the door.  I "clumsily" drop my mail, and perform one of those kneel down to pick it up in slow motion moves.  Smiling on the way down and on the way back up.  He says something else.  I jump his bones right there at the mailbox.
Okay.  Well, yeah.  That needs work.

Okay, so yeah.  I posted on my other blog about some of the dirty things I want to do my neighbor.  Don't worry.  It's relatively clean.
Sure, I think a lot about ravishing him, in a wholly two consenting adults kind of way, in one of those perfect conditions, perfect opportunity, risk-free fantasies that only come up in romance novels or pornos, but that got me to thinking.  What if the opportunity did happen to present itself?  I mean, it's not astronomically unlikely.  I'm single.  He's single.  And we are neighbors, after all.
Like at this moment, if he were to knock on my door and throw himself at me.  I wouldn't be ready.  It occurs to me that I wouldn't even let him cross the threshold.
My hair's not done.  My nails are complete crap.  I need a pedicure.  I could use a few waxing touch-ups, and I could stand to lose SEVERAL pounds in a several select places.
Sometimes, I wonder just how much attention a man actually pays to a woman's body during sex.  I know that men don't mind imperfection, any more than women do.  I mean, it's not like you're starring in love scene on the big screen, or making a home porno, but still. 
But how much do men really mind a little back fat, or muffin top, or a little extra meat on the thighs?  Do they really notice when our legs aren't freshly shaved?  Eh.  Probably not.
The point is, we notice it on ourselves, and for me, well...I get a little embarrassed thinking about what he might be thinking.  Yeah.  Silly, I guess. 
I just want to feel attractive.  I want to feel like I look like somebody whose bones he wants to jump all the time.  *Sigh*  I miss being in a relationship.  I mean, I ain't gon' miss no meals because of it, but I'm just thinking of how great it would be to look great when opportunity comes knocking...literally or figuratively speaking.
And for those women out there with steady beaus and husbands who have your periodic, but inexplicable losses of interest in sex, what is your deal?  Sex on demand, and you have no interest?
Okay, if it's a vanity thing, I totally get it.  That whole "I'm not feeling sexy right now," or "I need to tidy up" type of issue, I get it.  The self esteem thing is heavy, and probably drives down the sex drive for most of us. 
But for all else, such as that, "I'm tired," "I got a headache," "the kids are in the next room," (y'all KNOW you can have quiet sex), or "I'm mad at you right now" type of stuff, all the damn time...you bitches make me sick.
I mean really.  What is up with that? 
I totally get not wanting to be touched by, ogled at, or groped on by some guy in which you have absolutely no interest.  And damnit, ain't nothing worse than when some jerk is all up in my face and space, assuming that just because I don't have a man, or, in this case, have the hots for another guy, that it's okay for him to come sniffing around and propositioning me.  Wrong, buster.  Get the hell away from me.
But hell, if you're in a relationship with, or married to him, what...the hell...is up?  That's a completely rhetorical question, because I've already made up in my mind that if you say it's anything but vanity, you're on some lame-lazy excuse-making, denial-having, lying ass bullshit.  If you don't want him, then why the hell are you with him?  Y'all are the bitches who make me sick.
And don't get me started with those of you who've somehow settled up with the wrong poor bastard, for haste, or spite, or fear of failure. Or you call yourself being "bored" with him.  You heffas really get on my nerves.  Ain't nobody made you settle up with the wrong man.  Got him thinking that all women want to pull the "hold out" card once they get a man; but no.  It's just YOU.  And your specific disinterest in HIM.
And please don't get it into your head that just because you don't want him that somebody else is just waiting for you to cut him lose so she can jump on him.  If that's your line of thinking, oh grow up, already.  And consider and check your own shady inner circle before you make general assumptions. 
Despite what many ill-informed people would like to believe about single women, being single IS a conscious choice, not a chronic condition.  I've been celibate for this long because I'm selective, not thirsty.  It actually opens my mind for some pretty clear thoughts to jot down here and there.  Including some pretty vivid sex scenes.  But I digress. 
I'm just saying that if you don't want to have sex with you own man, tell his ass the truth about why.  Stop making excuses.  Save everybody a lot of trouble.
Okay.  I guess I'm done thinking, for now.

I received a blog tag from a writer friend today called, "Tell Me About Yourself."  I'm supposed to post seven random things.  Here goes:

1.  Kindness and generosity are at the top of my 25 character strengths; yet, forgiveness and mercy are near the bottom.  Some grudges will have to be pried from my cold, dead fingers.
2.  I hate driving.  I'd rather buy ALL of the gas for a road trip than spend one minute behind the wheel.
3.  When I'm really amused, I laugh like Betty Rubble.  My shoulders shake and everything.
4.  I sing in the shower.
5.  Given the choice between sleeping and eating, I always choose sleeping.  I'll eat when I wake up.
6.  I still have my wisdom teeth.
7.  I can retire from the Army in about two years.  After that, I want to be a barber, and pursue writing and publishing part time.

Well, that's it.  While we're sharing, feel free to share something or things about yourself. :

I think I'm just about bothered to the point of disturbed by folks giving the holy roll a bad name. It's one thing to be genuinely happy and thankful, but a whole other thing to be too confused to know if it's Spirit moving you, or the guilt/embarrassment being poured on you by janky praise leaders. 
THIS is why there are generations and generations of fakers in the church, telling folks what they want to hear and showing folks what they want to see, with no truth to the trick.
If you've got to be baited, persuaded, eyeballed, and otherwise cued into jumping up, clapping, stomping, dancing and yelling, "Hallelujah," at the top of your lungs, then that's not the Spirit moving you.
And for all of you janks in the church, here's a hint: If folks are not jumping to their feet, sangin', swaying, and a wailin' and a moanin' (without cue), while you're whooping and hollering (AND off key), it's because they're not moved. Talmbout, "If you love the Lord, you'll..." this that and the other thing. That's like rap stars shouting, "All the ugly people be quiet! All the cool people make some noise!" in the middle of a concert. Know where they got it from? The church!
Now, I'm not a holy roller by any stretch, but I know what it's like to be really moved by the Spirit.  It's awesome.  And not something to be trifled with, in my opinion.  Especially not for the awe of the congregation, or some other audience.  It's okay, to slow your roll.   You're in church, not a concert.  If you're going to be moved, God doesn't need any help to do it.