Writers Workshop - 22 Things I've Done

1. Loved and lost

2. Recovered from #1, even when I wasn't sure it was possible.

3. Gone to a drive in movie theater as an adult

4. Eaten dessert first

5. Seen the sunrise from a beach on the East Coast and the sunset from a beach on the West Coast.

6. Driven on the autobahn

7. Gotten in a fist fight

8. Been robbed at gunpoint

9. Danced like no one was watching

10. Gotten divorced

11. Been in a car accident

12. Kept a secret

13. Shoveled horse poop

14. Made a complete jerk of myself

15. Cried with joy and laughed with relief

16. Changed a tire

17. Slept in a castle

18. Read the last page before I read the book

19. Avoided all things Bieber like the plague

20. Maxed out weight machines at the gym

21. Gotten my Masters Degree

22. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year's Eve in London

Another great writing prompt from Mama Kat!

Writers Workshop - A recipe that went all kinds of wrong.

I love to bake. I like to cook, but cooking is not my passion. I favor quick, healthy, easy meals that do not send echos of Rachel Ray bouncing back and forth in my brain.

**Nothing against Rachel Ray, her voice just loops in my head in a most unpleasant way. Yum-O!**

Since Robert spent so much time in the military, he'll pretty much eat anything - lucky for me! He also has a decreased sense of smell and taste which might just help that out a teensy bit.

One day I was making pancakes with Bisquick and I noticed a recipe on the back of the box. The recipe was for a cheeseburger casserole. Hey - Robert likes Bisquick, Robert likes cheeseburgers. I'll make this!

I followed the directions on the box, talked it up nice and yummy for him. Pulled it out of the oven, slapped it on a plate and waited for what I was sure would be the, "This is really good, thanks" comment.

**crickets**

Nor did he want more.

Hey, I'm a big girl. I can take it. So I ask him, "Didn't you like this?"

**long pause**

Wellllllll........

No. No he didn't like it. In fact, he asked very quietly and politely that I never offer this particular meal to him again.

So I tasted it.

Even though I had followed directions faithfully, it was sort of a soggy, doughy mess. The flavor was pretty good. But the texture and consistency? Not appealing. And it was kind of a uniformly grey color. If you've ever seen Better Off Dead, it wasn't too different from the mom's cooking. Definitely not Yum-O! I don't even think EVOO and fresh herbs could have helped. A strong margarita may have, but I didn't think about that until much later.

But, to Robert's great relief, I have never served it again.

Writers Workshop: What does this mean?

They just aren't that into you.

Anyone remember that episode of Sex and the City? If not, the theory of "he's just not that into you" turned into a book (which I didn't read) and then a movie (which I did see and was...meh).

This is so, absolutely, positively, utterly true. Not just about dating relationships, either. Any relationship fits.

I have spent what would probably add up to years and years waiting for people to make an effort be part of my life. Heck, sometimes I was happy for a hint of effort. No worries, mate! I'll do all the heavy lifting. Even imagined effort would work for the right person.

After I split up from my first husband, I made a concentrated effort to go out with anyone that asked me. I figured that since I had made so many bad relationship choices by thinking I knew what I was looking for that going out with what I didn't think I was looking for might actually work. I joined a dating website, and the adventures began.

I went on some great dates. I went on some awful dates. I got stood up. I heard a bunch of lame excuses. I learned how to spot a married guy in an introductory email. I met a lot of nice guys. I met a lot of not so nice guys.

But the most important thing I learned was that if a man was interested, he would call - no matter how busy or crazy work was, no matter who he had just broken up with, no matter what his friends thought. If he was interested, he'd call. And if he didn't call, he wasn't really interested.

What has taken me so much longer to learn is that this theory is just as valid on friendships.

Wait...

That's not entirely accurate. I've known it for a while. It's just taken me a long time to accept it.

Let's be honest, it sucks when you like someone more than they like you...no matter what the relationship.  But even if the effort has a five year break between tries, effort will be made. And if it isn't, my advice is this: keep an open mind and an open heart, but don't see effort that isn't there. In the long run, you'll be a whole lot happier.

Writing workshop prompt by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.

Writers Workshop - Yuck! Food Poisoning

That I know of, I've only had food poisoning once. 

And honestly? Once was a gracious plenty.

Defying my entire family and some would say even my southern heritage, I've never cared for mayonnaise. When I was younger, I wouldn't choose to put it on something, but I would eat things that had mayo in them - deviled eggs, chicken salad, pimento cheese.

My freshman year at college, I was home for the weekend. My boyfriend and I were out goofing around and stopped at this German cafe place for lunch. We each ordered a sandwich, mine with no mayo. When they arrived at the table, I took a bite and mayo oozed out. 

Gross!

A normal person would have politely pointed out the error and asked for a mayo free sandwich. But not me. I scraped as much of it off as I could and then ate the sandwich. Because nothing says carefree and go with the flow like eating something you specifically asked not to have. 

Two hours later, I was sitting on the toilet with my head hanging in a trash can. My body was trying really hard to expel anything and everything it could all at once. Not so pleasant, as it turns out. 

Stupid mayonnaise.

But the worst was the next day, when there was nothing left to throw up and I was still trying.  

Stupid mayonnaise.

Three days later, and I still couldn't keep water down.  I spent a lot of time curled up on the bathroom floor, begging for holy intervention. Also because that way all I had to do was sit up to try and vomit. 

So much fun!

Stupid mayonnaise.

By day five I don't remember if I called my friends or if they called me, but someone me brought some ginger ale. Even though I didn't really like ginger ale, it was like nectar from heaven. A gift from the gods. Bliss in a tumbler. One itty bitty little baby sip at a time.

Stupid mayonnaise.

I have no idea if it really was the mayo or something else that caused me to be so sick, but I choose to blame the mayo since I never really liked it anyway. And that way, when I follow up my 'no mayo' request with "I got food poisoning once" I get less looks suggesting that I'm an alien or had asked for puppy liver pate. 

And, interestingly enough, that little cafe closed down not long after my week long toilet salute. 

Coincidence? I dunno......

Writers Workshop Thursday - Locked Out

Between my first marriage and my current marriage I dated a guy named Jerry. As it turns out, pretty much everything Jerry told me was a big, fat lie but he did come in handy when I got locked out.

He had shown up with very little notice...supposedly he traveled a lot for work (snort and also eye roll)...and since this was before I had gotten suspicious, I was so excited that I left the house with him without my keys. My brother and my friend Tina were living with me, so I wasn't too worried about getting back into my house when I got home. I had to work the next day, he never had more than a few hours free when I saw him, so we weren't out very late.

He pulled into my driveway and the house was dark.

Whoops.

My brother was living in the bedroom to the left of the front door and was constantly complaining about how he couldn't sleep: the streetlight outside was too bright, someone was walking around in the kitchen, my work pager would go off (which was fair..that thing went off all the time at all hours), because there were too many cars going up and down the street...you name it.

So I figured that the doorbell and some pretty doggone insistent knocking would wake him up. It wasn't even 11 pm, after all, and he was such a 'light sleeper'.

Well, until I locked myself out and needed him to wake up and let me in.

After about 15 minutes of trying to rouse someone, anyone, we started looking for another way in.

All my windows had screens on them and I really didn't want to destroy a screen or break a window to get in.   We tried the credit card to jimmy the lock, but that didn't work either. Especially since whomever locked up had thrown the deadbolt. I would have called, but my cell phone was in the house...with my keys, my id, and the garage door opener.

Perfection.

Finally, Jerry was like, "look..do you want me to get you in the house?" And of course I was all, "well, yeah!" and expecting a rock or a boot to meet one of my windows. He bends over to look at the living room window. There was a rubber strip that pressed the screen into the metal frame. Jerry took his car key out and dug the rubber strip out and peeled back the screen.

Well, holy breaking and entering Batman! That took all of six seconds. Then he took his credit card and slid it in the very tiny space where the upper and lower window met. A quick flick of the wrist and then a repeat on the second lock and voila! The window was unlocked and we slid it right up.

I took off my shoes and threw them as loudly as I could into the living room, still plenty ticked off that two people were in my house and wouldn't/couldn't wake up to let me in. Not that my shoe throwing had any effect at all in the rousing sleeping residents arena.  Then I hiked up the dress I was wearing like the lady I am and climbed through my window.

Fabulous.

Getting into my well-locked house took Jerry less than 3 minutes and with the exception of my dramatic shoe throwing, door pounding, window knocking, doorbell ringing and some pretty creative cursing, was entirely silent.

Sobering, isn't it?

And yes, I still bring up this night whenever my brother dares to mention that he's a light sleeper.

Writers Workshop Thursday - 10 Dos and Don'ts of Airplane Etiquette

1) DO - actually check to make sure your carry on bag fits appropriately inside the sample size metal thingy at check in. That's what it's there for, the rules do indeed apply to you too, and I don't want your approved TSA sized bottle of horrible smelling lotion/cologne/perfume/shampoo/hairspray dripping on my head, soaking into my bag, or stinking up the plane because you or someone else had to shove your over sized bag into too small a space. 

2) DON'T - be a jacka$$ to the flight attendant. Planes are over-crowded, on tight schedules, understaffed, and full of impatient, demanding people. If the FA tells you that you need to check your bag, just check it. If the FA says they can't serve you another drink, let. it. go. If the FA asks you to get your seat out of the lap of the person behind you, make like the Nike slogan and just do it. 

3) DO - have your boarding pass and ID ready before you get in line to board the plane. Those of us who have this ready will thank you profusely - if not out loud, then definitely mentally. 

4) DON'T - take your shoes off. Especially if your feet stink. If you aren't sure/weren't aware, the people sitting beside you will give you some pretty reliable cues. And if you have gas, for the love of God, take some tums, pepto, or bean-o. Just because we didn't hear it doesn't mean we don't smell you and and yes, we can indeed tell that it's coming from you. 

5) DO - have some sympathy for people with kids on your flight. If you are annoyed by restless/cranky/crying kids for an hour or two, imagine being in a car with them for six or more hours. That's probably why they are flying. And do you really want a distracted, distressed, exhausted parent barreling down a highway you or someone you love also occupies at 65 mph or more? Nuh-uh!

6) DON'T - look at porn during the flight. Seriously - what are you planning on doing about it in that tiny little seat anyway?!?

7) DO - use common courtesies: please, thank you and excuse me when appropriate, don't throw your trash on the floor, clean up after yourself if you spill something (or you know, pee on the seat or on the floor of the bathroom.) 

8) DON'T - treat your row mates like a captive audience. Some people like to talk, some people don't. Know which one is which. 

9) DO - keep cell phone conversations at a reasonable volume level and appropriate for the people around you. It's the same with all electronic devices..your seat mate may not have the same appreciation for Yanni that you do. Nor do toddlers need to hear the f-bomb or the details about your drunk hook-up last night. 

10) DON'T - for heaven's sake do not make jokes about bombs, terrorists, crashing planes, or anything else of that nature. Not funny. 

Thanks for the prompt Mama Kat!