Magic City Con Magic

Thirteen years ago I did something life changing.  Thirteen is my lucky number.  I was born on May 13th.  Whenever my birthday falls on Friday the 13th, I have an extra special birthday party. This year's theme was "Villains" and it was one of the best parties ever.  I was Pizzazz of the Misfits from Jem and the Holograms.  Pizzazz went to the Masquerade Ball at Magic City Con.

Thirteen years ago I auditioned for the performing street cast of the Ohio Renaissance Festival.  Thirteen years ago I met some of my very best friends, and I met my husband.  Thirteen years ago I moved to Colorado for a day, then drove 23 hours back home.  Unemployed, and disheartened I found a new home at ORF.

Almost 13 years to the day, my life changed again in the very same way.  Magic City Con.

Once again, I found another home, another family, another group of people who I felt I had known my whole life, been looking for my whole life, a group of people who understand me at my core, a group of people who understand me in a way no one else understands me.

To find your second family once in life is a gift.  To find them again is a miracle.  I have spent the last 13 years with my faire family, thankful that I have found home, thankful that these people are there for me when I need them, thankful that I have found my place in this world, a place that loves me for who I am, a place where I can always be myself and feel safe and loved.  I have spent 13 years in this place, returning every summer to wallow in love and fun, to pour myself into The Blaze and embrace her zest for life, her zaniness, and her ability to spread joy and her energy.

This past weekend it happened all over again.  I traveled across the country with three other women I had never met in person, to attend a Con with other people I had never met in person, to meet the man who voiced the character that made me fall in love with a fandom that has given me one of the greatest gifts ever: an entirely new family.

I had a small family growing up.  I gravitated towards friends with large families, friends who invited me to family functions to eat and drink and be merry.  I'm still friends with those ladies today.  I still see their families from time to time, grateful to have those memories, grateful to those people who took me in and gave me the family I craved.

The Ohio Renaissance Festival was one of those friends.  For 13 years I have been embraced by a family that chose me and that I chose in return.  For 13 years I have found myself time and time again surrounded by people who love me unconditionally, people who bring me true joy and happiness, people who know what it's like to find that second family.

At Magic City Con I was blessed to find it all over again.  I marveled in my luck, telling my husband how amazed I was to feel those same feelings of love and acceptance.  Magic City Con changed my life.

I laughed.  I cried.  I hurled.  (No, thankfully, no hurling, unless you count threats.  Sorry, Mary.)

Immediately, I felt like I had always known these people, like I had been searching for them to complete me.  Many of them I had befriended what feels like years ago, discussing Dragon Age alongside of our deepest wants and desires, even though it's mostly just Cullen.  Some of them I only met last week.  Even so, I embraced them into my fold of my dearest friends, only forgetting about one of them one time.  (Sorry, Mary.)

I'm sad that I won't be able to go to DragonCon with most of them since I'll be busy at the opening weekend of ORF.  That, and I can't afford another Con this year.  But, I look forward to next year's Magic City Con.  I will be there, traveling 8 hours in a car with 3 of my closest friends, friends that I only met in person a year ago, but friends that have their own special place in my heart.

I look forward to late night chats, game tips, group fics and pics, stories about our dogs and cats, beta reading, heartbreaks and heartaches, new loves and old loves, donuts, shit coffee, death wishes, cosplays,

I look forward to the family reunion that will be Magic City Con every year.

Thank you to each and every one of you.  Thank you for being my newest family.  Thank you for coming into my life.  Thank you for keeping me up late, for cosplaying with me, for talking about Dragon Age, for introducing me to Mass Effect and Fallout 4.  Thank you for loving me, and hugging me, and crying with me.  Thank you for being you.  And thank you for loving me for who I am.

The Shortcut Street Gave Me

Today, after my busy summer of preparing for the first week of Summer Camp here on The Astral Plains, I get back to writing - my other passion.

I started writing shortly after I started riding horses.  I do not remember a time when either of them weren't at the forefront of my thoughts.  Years ago my mom gave me a giant envelope made out of posterboard full of my writings from grade school.  I've already written several books.  They were about my family, and cats, and horses.  I wrote about what I loved.

In college I was an English major for four years.  I wanted to be a writer.  Eventually, I realized that you didn't need an English degree to be a writer.  I also realized that after the death of a friend, I didn't have the strength to grieve for him and stay in school.  I was a wreck.  Ryan Street, or Streetie Weetie as I called him, passed away just after New Year's Day.  I believe it was January 3, 2003 but I've never been good with dates.  My friends, his friends, and I spent 3 long, grueling days in the waiting room of the hospital after he had a seizure.  He never woke up.  I was in that waiting room with 2 ex-boyfriends.  It was tense, and uncomfortable for so many reasons.

Sitting here, I shed a few tears for Street.  He was one of the best friends you could ever hope for.  I only knew him a few years.  But, they were some of the very best years of my life.  He had a way of bringing everyone together.  During those years I was friends with people who I never would have been friends with otherwise, most of them I am no longer friends with.  They weren't the kind of people who stuck around in my life.  But, when Street was alive, everyone wanted to be around him all the time.

I have a photo album of those days.  We had so much fun, that some of those pictures are hidden behind other pictures; they're indecent, and they were developed at the grocery store.  I still have a pink leopard spotted bra hidden away in a drawer or plastic tub or suitcase somewhere just because I have a pictures of me wearing that bra with Street.  (Also, there's one of Brad Buchanan in it.  If you still talk to "Iceman" tell him.  He's not on FB for me to embarrass him publicly.)  We were fresh out of high school, had over 21 friends buying alcohol, and locking ourselves up in someone's cousin's house for a weekend.  Thanks for the memories cuz.

My senior year of high school I lost my Uncle Johnny and Mom-Mom, my grandmother, in the space of less than a month.  Pop-Pop, my grandfather, died a couple of years later.  When Street died I was still reeling from their deaths too.

It has just dawned on me, as I write this, that Street's death drove me to follow my heart and build my future.  Wow.  That made me cry.

Uncle Johnny's prayer card reads: "I shall lead you through the loneliness, the solitude you will not understand, but it is my shortcut to your soul."  I held that so close to my heart over the years.  That saying, by Thomas Merton, has gotten me through all the tough times since.  To me, it's a better way of saying "Everything happens for a reason."  All those times I felt at my lowest, lost, alone, afraid, I brought that prayer card to mind.  For my birthday in '05 I tattooed it on my arm.  I know I still have the prayer card somewhere, probably in a diary.

Of all the suffering I have gone through in life, dealing with death has always been hardest for me.  In an odd way I welcome it, in the way that I no longer fear it.  I know that through the death of each of my loved ones, I have learned a priceless life lesson.  Some just take longer to realize than others.  I'm blessed to find my way to the other side, eventually.

Street's death pushed me to find my future.  The year he died I went soul searching.  I made the decision to move to Colorado to work on a dude ranch.  I drove home the next day.  Unemployed, and painfully grieving, I auditioned for the Renaissance Festival that summer.  That year I met two of my soul mates, my best friend, Megan, and my husband, Wayland.

I have accomplished so many of my lifelong dreams since Street's death.  Next up, publishing a book.

I've worked on writing, starting and stopping, three different novels.  I'm taking my newest project and running with it.  Soon, maybe you'll be buying it off of Amazon and getting lost in my world. For now, it's time for me to go get lost there.

Spring Has Sprung on The Astral Plains

We did it.  We finally named the farm.  The Astral Plains.  It was a name that came to us, actually I think it was Wayland's idea, early on.  Also considered were Mystic Fields, Soul Dreams, and Spice of Life.  We wanted something that would embrace our love of the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres, but it was more than that. We wanted something to tell people who we are.

We're dreamers and thinkers.  We're creators.  We're open to the possibilities of life - the endless possibilities of life, our planet, our universe, and beyond.

Here on The Astral Plains we feed imagination while making dreams reality.  Here on The Astral Plains you can find peace and inspiration.  You can find love and acceptance.  You can find yourself or you can look for your self.

Yes, I will be teaching horseback riding lessons on The Astral Plains.  But, it is so much more than that.  I'm offering a chance for people to live life the way they want to live their lives.  I'm offering hope for the future, a new beginning, a way to relax and enjoy a day on the farm.

My hope is that people will come here to embrace life.

Yesterday we had a chance to embrace an evening like no other evening.  Our dear friends, Skogen and Lulu, came over for dinner.  As usual we enjoyed preparing a meal together and watching the antics of the critters.  A spring thunderstorm rolled in and it rained for over an hour.  Thunder made the dogs cower in fear, but the rain brought green grass and spring buds.

As the rain began to subside we noticed the driveway had flooded and the horse field had given birth to a river and a lake.  Strider, who is usually a cautious dog, waded knee deep into the new lake.  He chased the spiral of water flowing into the drainage pipe and watched it cascade out the other side in a waterfall over the rocks and cinder blocks.  He spooked  at something, making a big splash, spooking the horses as well.

Brave Deacon had to come over and check out what was going on and he began splashing in the lake on his side of the field.  Water loving Smokey and Prince quickly joined in.  And even Land Lubber Sonny visited the lake.  Bandolero was having none of it, though grazed close by as not to be left out of the herd.

Soon, it was a big horsey wading pool.  Everyone was splashing away.  Luckily, Wayland noticed the fun and went for his camera early so we have several shots to commemorate the affair.  Smokey went down to roll not once, but twice.  Perhaps he wasn't wet enough after that big rain shower.  Or perhaps he just really loves water.  Prince, who usually gets both front feet into the water trough to splash was much happier with this new lake.  He splashed and splashed, and then put his nose into the water to blow bubbles and get a bite of hay off the bottom.

It was better than any movie or TV show I've ever seen.  I could watch my horses play all day long.  This was truly a special treat and a moment I will cherish as long as I live.  I'm thrilled that I got to share it with not only my husband, but also the Studebakers because that's what The Astral Plains are all about - sharing love with each other.

Not an hour later the lake was gone.  It had all drained out through the drainage pipe, which deserved some time off after doing such a good job.  This morning even the river is gone.  The grass is greener, and bushes that weren't blooming yesterday are blooming today.  Spring has sprung on The Astral Plains.

Now, we will sit back and enjoy the ride as soon as we finish all the work that needs to be done.

An Artist in Dreams

I lit some candles last night and became an artist in dreams.

I was cleaning and found the stash of candles from my Tree's house warming party. (Yep, I belong to a Tree.)  They had carved words into the candles to bless my new home.  Words such as: prosperity, wealth, health, positivity, laughter, and fun.  I went to bed tired, earlier than usual, and woke up feeling refreshed.

I had a nice, new dream.  Not that my old dreams aren't nice, but I tend to dream about the same thing or same theme quite often.  Last night was new.  I was driving a new to me, yet quite old red pickup truck.  It had pictures all over the dashboard from the former owner of him, his family and his horses.  I really liked this truck.  It was smaller than my behemoth of a truck and had character.  Perhaps I'll keep an eye out for it.  I was driving this truck up a cobblestone street when I realized I needed to drive through this very small barn to get home.  As I pulled into the barn I realized it was full of some type of black exotic chicken.  Small, fuzzy grey chicks were running around everywhere and I nearly hit one.  I stopped and jumped out to check on it when the farmer came running up.  He was a middle aged Latino man, who was very concerned for his chick, yet very welcoming to me.  He knew that his barn was a street that people had to drive through.  After checking on his chick, which was unscathed, I told him I would help him stop the use of his barn as a street and get the city council to put in a new street instead.  He was very appreciative.  He told me I could finish driving through.  I decided it would be best to back up and find a way around.

Back out on the cobblestone street I saw a beautiful white Victorian house with a large sign out front.  I thought it was a "For Sale" sign.  But, it was actually a sign with a large pencil drawing of my father on it.  The sign read: "Anthony Maruffi Properties."  My Mom and Aunt Cathy were on the front porch.  I walked up with tears in my eyes.

"Mom, I thought you decided to sell this place!"  I said to her.

"No, we decided that you should have it as your new shop,"  she told me.

"Shop for what?" I asked.

"Whatever you want," she said bringing me inside.

Trinity Ruggles was at the door.

That's the last thing I remember.  I don't know what this place was, or where, but I do know that last night in my dream I became an artist.  On that sign, clear as day was a wonderful pencil line drawing of my father.  How in the world can my brain create a perfect drawing in my dreams, but there's no way I could ever recreate that while awake?  (By the way, my father is alive and well.  I think this sounds like he's deceased.  But, he isn't.)

Perhaps the dream is telling me that I'm not done dreaming yet.  I know that most of my biggest dreams have come true.  And I'm incredibly thankful for that every single day.  But, perhaps I forget I have more out there.  I want to be a better witch and a better healer.  I want to open up a tack store one day.  And perhaps, I want a little, old, red truck.

I woke up suddenly and completely this morning.  I didn't take Benadryl last night, which helps.  That always makes me wake up slowly and groggily, and late.  I'm trying to get off the 'dryl.  It's not good for me.  I don't want to have to take it because I'm so snotty that I can't breathe.  I'm going to get back into Reiki and chakra work.  I really enjoyed it when I was doing it.  I felt empowered.  And it's something I strongly believe in.  If I have the power to help myself heal in my very own hands why am I not using it?  Laziness.  That's the only answer.

This year, I'm going to be less lazy.  I can't say that I'm not going to be lazy because I know that's a lie.  I like being lazy to an extent.  But, as with most things I "Go big or go home."  So, I do it all the way.  And being lazy all the way just gets me a gut, a sugar belly, a pooch, a FUPA!  Agh!  Not a FUPA!!!

It's hard when it's the middle of winter and it's cold outside.  I start my day by bundling up, feeding 5 horses and 2 donkeys and cleaning the barn.  I work up a good sweat doing this.  It makes me feel like that's my workout for the day and I can go inside and sit around.  But, it should be just the beginning to my day.  I don't usually eat breakfast before I feed horses.  But, today I did.  Today, I woke up, made tea and toast, blogged, and fed my dogs first.  Today I'm going to do something I can be proud of.  Perhaps today I'll suck it up and ride.  Perhaps today I'll read a Reiki book.  Perhaps today I won't be lazy.  Perhaps today I'll be an artist while awake.

"Dog Tired"

Yesterday, I took my dogs to work with me.  I love spending time with my dogs.  I'm ecstatic that I can take them to work with me.  It doesn't always work out.  When I have lots of lessons and lots of students I don't want to ignore the dogs and have them wander off.  But, yesterday I only had two lessons instead of three.  So, we got to camp in the early afternoon, picked up Lucy the American Bulldog at Colleen's (my boss, who was working) so she could go with us, and went for a long walk.

Walking through the woods with dogs is like taking very fast children to the zoo when it's crowded.  One blink and they're gone.  They always come back on their own though, unlike children.  It makes me a bit nervous, but they have so much fun.  The exercise and the enrichment is good for them.  It's also feels good to be able to trust my dogs to be off leash.  There's freedom there.

Back at the barn students arrived and I was pulling muddy horses out of a muddy pasture.  After hosing off the horses, I hosed off the dogs, quickly dried them, and stuffed them into the truck.  They were asleep by the time I glanced at the truck to check on them.  There were much fewer people around for my last lesson so I went to free the dogs from their comfy cage.

The windows were all fogged up and they were happily looking at me and wagging their tails.  I reached for the door handle and pulled.  The door didn't open!  I went around to the driver's door.  Nothing!  They were locked in!  And of course my keys were sitting on the console.

I called Wayland to leave him a message saying he would need to come down with his keys to let me in my truck after he was finished at the gym.  Then, I remembered that I bought a defective truck!  The driver side rear door doesn't lock and unlock by power, only by hand!  I called Wayland back, left him another message, and ran to the truck.  The handle opened the door and the dogs were free!

I unlocked the rest of the doors and ushered the dogs into the barn to keep them mostly clean and out of the mud.  They enjoyed running around the arena and eating horse poop unaware of my near panic.  Of course, being locked in a truck on a 40 degree night isn't much of a danger to two pooches. . .just to the interior of my truck.

Regardless of my mistake, or perhaps because of it I had a great day with my dogs.  Do you know what 'dog tired' looks like?  I do.  Two dogs run around trees, another dog, horses, people, water, birds, horse poop, strange cats, and mud for seven hours.  They get home, pee again, poop again, eat dinner and collapse on the couch.  They didn't go outside again before going to bed, which they always do.  They didn't wake me up in the morning, which they usually do.  And they are currently sleeping on the couch instead of staring at me with a toy at my feet.

I hope that early lesson slot on Monday doesn't fill up next week.  I want more dog tired dogs.

FHOTD - Blog writer submission draft 3

Obama signed a bill and the horse nation is in an uproar.  (At least I think this all happened because Obama signed a bill.  I hate politics so I’m not really sure how it all works.  And for me to spend time researching the exact reason that horse slaughter is going to begin again in this country would take up too much time.  I’d also forget what I wanted to say.)  What should we do?  Should we support the reopening of the horse slaughter houses in our country or rally to keep them closed?

Personally, I won’t send my horses to a slaughter house for their death.  I pray they go quietly and peacefully in the night.  Yes, I’ll be devastated when it happens.  I have yet to say goodbye to one of my equine friends.  I’m lucky.  It will be the hardest thing I will ever have to do.  But, I will always have horses.  When my current horses have passed onto the next life I will get more.  I’ll probably get more before then.  I can’t imagine life without horses.  And I can’t imagine putting my horses through any unnecessary pain or suffering. 

I’ve read up on humane euthanasia that goes awry even when performed by a vet.  That doesn’t sound pleasant.  But, at least if it happens it’s not on purpose.  I’ll have every intent to end the suffering of my beloved horse quickly and painlessly.  If I knew how to use a gun, had good aim, and was adept at killing animals perhaps I would do it myself. 

If this country offered slaughter houses for horses with strictly enforced regulations perhaps that would work.  A clean, sanitary place with compassionate workers just like your vet would be appealing to many people.  No harsh chemicals and no terror, just like a cozy doctor’s office (unless you’re terrified of doctors of course.) 

From what I understand, because I’ve never been inside of a slaughter house, and have no desire to go into one, the slaughter houses in this country are unpleasant to say the least.  Horses are packed in shoulder to shoulder after being forced into substandard trailers and shipped too far of a distance without water or breathing room.  Then, they’re unloaded into a cramped paddock or cement room with other terrified horses.  They slip on the floors, slick with the blood of the others who have gone before them, as they’re loaded into a chute.  The captive bolt gun misses several times when the horse ducks out of the way and can hit in other places on the body.  The horses don’t die right away.  They suffer the multiple shots.  They hear the screams of other frightened horses.  They bleed to death slowly.  They suffer broken bones, bruises, cuts, and mental anguish.

Then, they are shipped to another country to be consumed by humans. 

I have a couple of questions:

1.  Why don’t the citizens of horse eating countries eat their own horses?

2.  Why doesn’t the government that allows for the opening and closing of horse slaughter houses regulate the operations of these places?

3.  If the legislators responsible for the slaughter bill were on that show where the CEOs of companies have to start at the low end of the totem pole could they be forced to work in our nation’s slaughter houses?

4.  Why is it so hard for Americans to walk in the shoes of other people?

5.  Why are there heartless bastards in this world?

Of course I can’t answer any of those questions.  But, they plague me when I think of the argument about horse slaughter.

For example, I have a cat.  He pees on my walls, my furniture, my drapes, and my clothes hampers.  I thought about putting him to sleep.  There, problem solved.  Cat pees on stuff; kill cat.  Wait.  How am I being responsible for the life of the creature I chose to bring into my life if the solution to my problem is death.  I did some research.  It turns out he has some pretty severe OCD.  He licks paper, tape, plastic bags, and envelope glue (ok, maybe the glue has killed some brain cells too.)  I took him to the vet, put him on some anti-anxiety medication and voila!  No more pee.  Of course, there is user error.  If he doesn’t get the medication every day he might pee on something.  I can only blame myself now.  Also, for clarification, the marking by urination is an OCD behavior, thus it is resolved with the medication.

The point is, in case you haven’t gathered it, is that I took responsibility for my actions.  I got a cat (ok, it’s my husband’s cat technically.  But, when I got a husband I got the cat too.)  So, I helped make the quality of life better for the cat. And I succeeded.  The medication is $5 and lasts two months.  That helps a lot.  If the medication was $60 a week I might have had to make a different decision, starting with a less costly medication.  But, euthanasia was the last option.

I was raised to take responsibility for my actions.  I don’t lie.  I don’t like to sugar coat the truth either, but I will if necessary for kids and clients.  The bottom line is that I believe the way to make this world a better place is to start with yourself.  I make me happy.  I try my best to not hurt others in the process. But, once I realized that my happiness is in my own hands I started to take responsibility for my actions.  And I find happiness in being honest, even if it hurts, and by taking care of those I love.

So, horse slaughter.  I think there are more than two sides to this issue.  Side one:  you’re against it.  Side two:  you’re for it.  Side three:  you think both side 1 and side 2 need reformed.  Personally, I’m side four.  I won’t send my horse to a slaughter house.  But, if you want to send your horse to a slaughter house because you can’t afford to feed it or euthanize it (and no one else wants it) then you should be able to do that.  I am for a humane, quick, painless death for horses.  I do not think that the horse slaughter industry in this country is for a humane, quick, painless death for horses.

Perhaps that is because some people who kill animals are not people who care a whole heck of a lot about life.  In grade school, I lived across the street from a family who had a father.  This father used to catch squirrels in traps and drown them in a bucket of water while the boys watched.  That guy might work in a slaughter house now.  What was his childhood like to make him think it was ok to drown tiny, helpless animals while his young children watched?

What if an equine vet or humane society employee had to preside over all horse slaughter houses instead of the squirrel drowner?

Also, I don’t believe that the horse overpopulation problem is directly related to the slaughter house issue.  Horse overpopulation, like any overpopulation is due to irresponsible and unregulated breeding.  That is an issue unto itself.  There are not too many “unwanted” horses because there are too many horses being bred.  There are too many horses being bred because people don’t educate themselves, they fail to see life in a long term sense, and because they fail to take an active role in responsibility for their own lives.

If you bring a horse into your life I believe that your life is now responsible for that horse.  You don’t euthanize your child because you can’t afford to feed it.  You don’t put it up for adoption when you decide you don’t want it anymore.  You bred, produced a child and now you have to take care of it for the rest of its life.  Why should it be any different with horses or other animals?  Your livelihood, your reason for wanting to own a horse, the essence of who you are is tied to the quality of life of that horse.  That living creature now relies on you to take care of it.  You need to feed it, give it medical care, give it a shelter, and love it to keep it living the highest quality of life available.  When you can not meet the needs of the other living beings in your life it is time to reevaluate yourself.  Do you need to get a new job, get a second job, sell something of value, take more time out of your busy schedule to spend time with your loved ones, feed your horses, sell your horses, get a divorce, go back to school, what?  What do you need to do to make your life work?

Don’t blame it on the economy either.  It’s not the economy’s fault that you can’t keep your life together.  It’s your fault.  It’s your life.  Try harder.  Get help.  Get new friends.  Make new friends.  Find a support group.  Whatever it takes to make your life better, do it.  Or else you have no one to blame but yourself.  And don’t let your horse starve out in the field.  Shoot it yourself if you have to.  Or have your neighbor the squirrel drowner do it for you.  I’m tired of excuses. That’s why I don’t make them.  Ok, I do make them.  I can think of an excuse in seconds.  It must come from my knack for creative writing.  I can pull an excuse, a good one, out of my butt so fast that you’ll believe it.  I’m good at lying.  I just don’t do it.  The truth is more fun for me.

So stop being a loser and get your life together.  Be a winner.  And winners do what they want, right Ricky Bobby?

I have very few rules in my life.  I don’t like too much structure, or too little organization for that matter.  But, I found what works for me.

1.  I make sure I’m happy.  I do what’s right for me. (You know those mugs, t-shirts, aprons that say “If Mama ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy.”  It’s true.)

2.  I take the feelings of others into consideration when I make decisions that will affect them.

3.  I don’t hurt animals or people that can’t fend for themselves.

4.  I make changes when change is necessary.  (This is the rule I have trouble with.  I don’t always like it; it’s rarely easy.  And it makes me cry.)

You may want to ask if I eat meat and if I care how those animals are treated.  Yes, I eat meat.  I love meat.  I wish I could buy all of my meat from the man down the street who kills those animals quickly and humanely.  But, I don’t.  That would be expensive and I’d probably have to drive all over Ohio.  But, there are people out there who do not eat meat.  And they lobby for the humane treatment of those animals that I eat.

I don’t eat horse.  But, I’m out there lobbying for the humane treatment of those horses that are ending up on someone else’s plate.  That’s the cycle as I see it.  Am I a hypocrite?  My horses don’t think so. 

What does your horse/cat/dog/rabbit/goldfish/mother/father/husband/sister/employer think about you?

In no way do I live my life for other people, which I think has become quite apparent.  (I do live it for my horses, though.)  However, the way your loved ones view you should tell the world what kind of person you are.  When I was applying for a job as a horseback riding lesson instructor at a local camp I had no doubts in my mind that my clients, friends, trainer, or the man I pay to board my horses would give me anything besides glowing reviews. 

I stand up for what I believe in.  Please, take a stand.  If every person on this earth would stand up for one thing they feel strongly about this world would be a better place.  And isn’t that what it’s all about?

Poof! Here's your man.

I'm working on my novel and started editing and rereading.  I got to a point where I got kinda stuck.  It was on a description of main male character #1.  I feel like I shouldn't have gotten stuck, but I did.  I went over the the Computer Room, which no longer houses a computer so it should be called the Green Room or the Library and we can play Clue in it.  I came back with a book called Wild Mind by Natalie Goldberg.  It's a book full of writing prompts and I got it in a college creative writing class.  I don't remember much about the class. But, I still have the books from it, one of the few classes I purposefully kept books from.  I like the book so much I think it's called Writing Down the Bones.  But, that is another book by the same author.  And this book happens to mention that book on the cover.  I suppose I should get that book also.  I'm sure to like it. 

So, I went to the Library (which also houses our costumes in the closet.  Perhaps it should be called the costume room.)  to get this book and sat down, picked out a writing exercise and promptly forgot the point of the exercise to instead write about the book and the room.  That is what is writing is about.  That is what writing exercises are for - to get the brain moving and the fingers tapping so that words flow and ideas form and men materialize in front of you.

Now, if only I could get men to materialize in front of me.  I really would make a fortune that way.  Poof!  Here's your man.  Poof!  Here's your man.  Poof!  Here's your man!  What would that business be called?