tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90563010474267117172024-02-19T09:08:04.320-06:00The Climb"I write for the same reason I breathe - because if I didn't, I would die."
Isaac AsimovJuliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-25113292686193472862015-05-22T10:21:00.000-05:002015-05-22T10:21:44.183-05:00Making TimeI should just warn you up front...a lot of my posts are going to be about my kid and working around babyland. Sorry...but not sorry. Welcome to my new life!<br />
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When I first had Ava, I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of motherhood. I didn't know how to control anything anymore, and I felt lost as an individual. Don't get me wrong, I DID enjoy the frustrations of getting to know my awesome little girl, but for someone trying to make a living from home in the short time maternity leave allows, I thought more about what I WASN'T getting done in my money-making world.<br />
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I had been looking forward to a 'break' from a job that was suffocating me, and finding time to get back into my writing again. Which unicorn did I fall off??<br />
There was no <em>time </em>for myself. I had no <em>time </em>to make a living. And I definitely had no <em>time</em> to write anymore. In fact, I had less time than I did before I had a baby. Sixty hours a week in a stifling cubicle to a 24/7 mom gig had me in a state of panic.<br />
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I was sure I was going to lose myself amongst the spit-up, diapers, and constant feedings. And naps? They don't exist. Who needs sleep? Not my kid. Or me, apparently.<br />
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But one day, I had had enough of this way of thinking. I certainly wasn't the only mom dealing with lack of time to make a living doing what I love. There are moms who have full time jobs, two jobs, no support systems, and <em>they</em> somehow find a way to write books and knit cute little hats and create, create, create!<br />
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Why couldn't I?<br />
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So I did the first thing I could think of to help me along the way.<br />
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I turned on my computer. I opened a fresh word document.<br />
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And every time Ava would close her eyes for more than one minute, I wrote.<br />
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Yes, it's going to take a while. But at least I know I'm trying, and slowly but surely, my pages will build. <br />
My maternity leave is almost over, and I'm trying like hell to figure out a way to be a mom working from home, but I'm confident.<br />
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I'll make the time to get it done.<br />
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<strong>Any working moms(or dads)out there struggling to be everything?</strong><br />
<strong>What have you done to pave your way?</strong><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54489/241/62621569E24496859E69E6BF9269F8FF.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-60074909546544327262015-05-05T15:58:00.002-05:002015-05-05T15:58:26.022-05:00In Which I ReturnIt has been almost exactly three years(THREE)since my fingers have typed a single word in a blog post.<br />
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Obviously, a million life changing events have taken place in those three years, but I am not going to bore anyone with the details, except....<br />
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I was blessed with this little squash, my Ava Rayne, on April 2nd of this year. <br />
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Before she was born, I knew I owed it to both myself and my daughter to make a solid attempt at having a true career that would make me happy and allow me to raise her the way I always dreamed.<br />
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This blog has been stale for three years because <strong><em>I </em></strong>have been stale for three years. It just wasn't my time, I suppose, to be the person I wanted to be. It sounds silly, I know, but in those few years, I was able to sow some wild oats, become a stronger person, decide what I wanted out of life, and now I am going after it full force.<br />
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I hope to keep blogging here about my writing. I expect it to make a comeback with some fresh ideas, some do-overs, and some revisions of lost loves.<br />
Somewhat officially, I can also be found over at <a href="https://avaeverafter.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Ava Ever After</a> , where I will be preaching and teaching others that you CAN have it all. The blog is still in the works, but I hope to have it up and fully running in a few days. Stop by when you have the chance!<br />
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I truly hope to reconnect with a few familiar writing friends, and I look forward to catching up with the blogosphere!Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-80084024000380790072012-05-16T06:00:00.000-05:002012-05-16T06:00:10.477-05:00Tell Me, MAYbe...<strong>What is your LEAST favorite part of the writing process, and WHY? First drafts? Revisions? Submissions?</strong><br />
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Mine is definitely that first draft. Getting something down that I feel even remotely confident about has been a chore lately...and it's something I'm working on each day! <br />
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How hard is it to bare your soul??<br />
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Exactly.Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-29398253261030854132012-05-15T22:43:00.000-05:002012-05-15T22:43:03.624-05:00How I WriteI'm a little behind...(7 posts, according to someone), but I have a good excuse! I'm sick. And I've been resting! So there.<br />
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Anyway, in case you're not caught up on what's happening here lately, I'm participating in the Blog Me MAYbe blogfest happening around the blogosphere, which you can check out by clicking on the linky in the sidebar. <br />
Tuesdays are always a good time because I can talk about myself, and let's be honest-who doesn't like to talk about how awesome they are?? ;)<br />
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I've been trying to be more disciplined in my writing schedule, which has a strict 8:30-10:30 time slot in my day, after work and the gym.<br />
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Well. <br />
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What actually happens between the time when inspiration strikes and words are recorded on the frighteningly empty Word document is this:<br />
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Sitting in traffic....thinking about nothing but how much I hate traffic...<br />
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<em>Hey, I should write a story about TRAFFIC! I KNOW all about traffic, and there are so many story possibilities...</em><br />
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Spend the next week staring at pictures of traffic on Pinterest and We Heart It while the plotline forms in my brain...<br />
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<em>Wouldn't it be a great idea if traffic didn't want to BE traffic anymore and instead wanted to try to be an open road??</em><br />
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Spend the next week downloading and Google stalking songs about traffic and the open road....<br />
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<em>I need a really good makeout scene.</em><br />
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Spend the next two days searching for pictures of people making out in traffic or on the open road...<br />
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Stare at the blank computer screen, fingers poised.<br />
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<em>Oh, hey, someone posted a video on my Facebook wall! Let's watch.</em><br />
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<em>Oh, hey, I forgot to find tickets to that one show...</em><br />
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<em>Oh, hey, I need a new shirt for that night at the bar that's like every other night at the bar. </em><br />
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<em>I'm STARVING. Let's make some popcorn.</em><br />
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<em>Wine! Why didn't I buy wine? Wine always helps me write. </em><br />
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<em>Coffee sounds amazing. Hey, Dunkin, how's it going?</em><br />
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<em>The new Vampire Diaries is on??? Hold up, skipping is NOT an option.</em><br />
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Spend the next week daydreaming about traffic while sitting in traffic.<br />
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Word document? Blank.<br />
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Sigh...<br />
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Unfortunately, this is how it's been lately.<br />
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I need some inspiration, people! I guess I should go find me some wine...<br />
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<br /></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-87044102667064432832012-05-08T04:00:00.000-05:002012-05-08T04:00:01.029-05:00Of Course There's Harry PotterIn today's edition of 'Let's Talk About Me', I thought I'd share with you the top 5 books and movies which help push me to be the best writer I can be. In no particular order:<br />
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Books<br />
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1. Harry Potter 1-7. I was forced to read The Sorcerer's Stone for my Children's Lit class in college(at the time I was very anti-fantasy)and I canNOT thank that professor enough. No book(or series)has inspired me more. <br />
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2. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. Also, Great Expectations! They were the first classic novels I fell in love with and the reason my obsession with all things England began. <br />
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3. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Okay, this was my first stab at fantasy, so I guess I can't say I <em>hated</em> it...I adored this book as a child and today the movies are part of my beloved collection(And Ben Barnes as Prince Caspian?? Yes please.).<br />
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4. Twilight. Just the first book. And yes, I realize the writing wasn't all that stellar, but the passion was. And I would love to create a characters with as much passion as this crew has!<br />
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5. Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins. A fellow blogger, I knew I liked Stephanie and her writing long before she was published, and she never disappoints. Her characters are real and charming, and the setting is just as much a character as the people are. She is a huge inspiration to me. <br />
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Movies<br />
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1. Ever After. I'm a sucker for a good fairy tale, and the Cinderella in this story was strong and determined. One of my all time favorite movies!<br />
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2. Alice In Wonderland. When this movie ended, I wanted nothing more than to run home(or back to my hotel room, as it was)and spend every waking moment in front of my computer, creating my own masterpiece. If you haven't seen it, you should. Every second was magical.<br />
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3. Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. Don't laugh. This movie made me believe. It also possessed one of the single greatest quotes I have ever heard: <strong><em>'Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.' </em></strong>Well said, Mr. Magorium.<br />
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4. Penelope. A curse, a lesson, and true love(both self and James McEvoy. Come on, now.). <br />
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5. Harry Potter 1-7. Did you really think these wouldn't be on this list??? Speaks for itself. <br />
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<strong>Which books and movies inspire you the most?</strong><br />
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-7919549257123244212012-05-06T23:57:00.000-05:002012-05-06T23:57:47.486-05:00Overcoming Fear<br />
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<strong><em>"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do."</em></strong></div>
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<strong><em> - Eleanor Roosevelt</em></strong></div>
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I had some trouble coming up with a topic for today's post...not because I don't have anything writing related to talk about, but because I just don't know where I stand with my writing at the moment.<br />
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It took a while to realize what my issue is, and then it hit me...fear. I've discussed it before and received incredible encouragement from everyone here, but the fact remains: I am afraid.<br />
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I don't doubt my writing-sometimes even the bad days read pretty well when I go back with a fresh eye. It's more of an 'I'm terrified of the rest of the world reading into my soul' type thing. I'm afraid of that rejection.<br />
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I've had something on my mind for months now, but I knew it would require action on my part in order for anything to come of it. But as outgoing as I am, there are just some things I can never make myself do because I'm too afraid of the outcome. In order to protect myself from the worst, I push away any hope for the best.<br />
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Two weeks ago, I made a decision. Life is way too short to be so afraid of the possibility of happiness. This past Friday, I shoved my fear aside, acted before I could talk myself out of it...and succeeded. I haven't felt so amazing in YEARS. I can't stop smiling! <br />
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In my opinion, writing should be this way, too. What do I have to fear? If I keep holding myself back, I will never know if I have what it takes to conquer such a silly little thing(in the big scheme of things).<br />
This must change. <br />
From here on out, I vow to be more confident in my writing and in myself. There is nothing to fear in a blank page, a full imagination, and a story to tell. <br />
See that word count on the right side of the screen? That number is going to go up. And someday, you will all get to see into my soul...<br />
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<strong><em>What do you have to do in order to overcome your fears?</em></strong> <br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"></a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-86644070033808019452012-05-04T04:00:00.000-05:002012-05-04T04:00:06.958-05:00MAY I Share Something Funny?Thanks for the comments on yesterday's post about my sister! It must have been good because she received a phone call for her first special order!<br />
Not only does this mean she's making money doing something she loves, it also means I get to tag along on a road trip to find the subject of the assignment! <br />
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Today, I'm going to share a few things that crack me up. I'm easily amused, so I hope you're not rolling your eyes *<em>too</em>* much at what I'm going to post!<br />
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I don't know about you, but I cannot stop laughing everytime I read this</div>
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I love this chick. And this video? YES. Wait, only me??</div>
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And from my Pinterest...</div>
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This was the funnest post. I laughed. A lot.<br />
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HAPPY FRIDAY!!!<br />
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<br /></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-71672679800097290932012-05-03T04:00:00.000-05:002012-05-03T04:00:05.708-05:00MAY I Tell You Something About Someone Else?In which I gush about the people who mean the most to me! There are so many people I'd love to praise, but I'm going to start with one special person(who has nothing to do with writing but a lot to do with inspiration).<br />
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Meet Jacki Kuiken, my little sister:<br />
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Jacki is a true artist. She's a photographer, a floral designer, a sketch artist, and so much more. She's also my best friend, and I want nothing but happiness and success for her! <br />
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Plus I know that someday she'll enjoy reading my books, so she's way more awesome than I'm letting on. ;)<br />
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Anyway...I posted one of her photos on my Monday post, but I'd like to link back to her <a href="http://jaclyntphotography.net/" target="_blank">website here</a> so you can all see this beautiful world through her talented eyes. <br />
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If you're not in the mood to check it out, maybe this will convince you:<br />
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See?? Girl's got talent. Don't these make you want to go outside and find your own inspiration? <br />
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Go ahead, boost her ego! :)<br />
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I hope you enjoyed meeting Jacki...I'm happy to introduce her!<br />
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<br /></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-55829239392775235432012-05-02T04:00:00.000-05:002012-05-02T04:00:06.340-05:00MAY I Ask Something About You?Happy Wednesday, everyone! <br />
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Today, I get to ask YOU some questions!<br />
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Tell me, fellow writers...<br />
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What are you writing <strong><em>right now</em></strong> and <strong><em>why?</em></strong> Did something inspire you? Have you been trying to get a certain story down on paper for some time now? Why did you choose to write this particular story?<br />
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I'd love to know!<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-75110255583240559962012-05-01T22:41:00.000-05:002012-05-01T22:41:57.470-05:00MAY I Tell You Something About Myself?Welp. I'm already behind! Leave it to me to post a Monday post on a Tuesday lol.<br />
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Since it's <em>TUESDAY, </em>I'll have to catch up and tell you all some things about myself. I'm going to copycat some other bloggers out there and do an A-Z post, since I missed out on April's blogfest because I'm lazy. And old. (24 is old.)<br />
(I'm not really 24.)<br />
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<strong>A is for age:</strong> HA! As I said...I'm <em>not</em> 24. I am, in fact, 25. Plus 6. But still awesome.<br /><br /><strong>B is for breakfast today:</strong> I suck at breakfast. Who has time for breakfast? I'm running out the door and hoping that I remembered to put on my pants. Seriously.<br />
<br /><strong>C is
for currently craving:</strong> The avocado, fresh mozzarella cheese, and tomato salad I made for my lunch tomorrow. YUM.<br />
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<strong>D is for dinner tonight:</strong> Popcorn and wine in my bed. Yup.<br /><br /><strong>E is for favorite
type of exercise:</strong> Running and dancing! I lose myself in a good run just as much as I do in my writing, if not more. And dancing is so. Much. Fun.<br />
<br /><strong>F is for an irrational fear:</strong> Being raped and/or murdered everywhere. Outside. In my bedroom. In the shower. It's a problem. I read too much.<br /><br /><strong>G is for gross
food:</strong> Peas. <em>Hork</em><br /><br /><strong>H is for
hometown:</strong> Born and raised in Calumet City, Illinois. I still love going back even though most of it has changed for the worse...<br />
<br /><strong>I is for
something important:</strong> My friends and family. I do not want to know the person I would be without them.<br />
<br /><strong>J
is for current favorite jam:</strong> <em>Say It Again</em> by Mariah McManus<br />
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I absolutely adore this song and this video. Also, it makes me think of someone....<br />
<br /><strong>K is
for kids</strong>: Um...nope? Although I've made the decision that if I'm still single by the time I'm 35, I'm doing it on my own. Not afraid. I'll be all Gilmore Girl. ;)<br />
<br /><strong>L
is for current location</strong>: My bed. Which is also my office. Rad.
<br /><br /><strong>M is for the most recent way you spent money</strong>: Paying too much for gas! <br /><br /><strong>N is for something you need:</strong> MONEY. Like, lots of it. Money might not buy happiness, but it does buy books and that's pretty much the same thing. Wait a sec....have I stolen that from Pinterest?? Probably.<br />
<br /><strong>O is for occupation:</strong> Writer. First and foremost. But during the day I do billing for a Honda dealership. Bah.<br />
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<strong>P is for pet
peeve:</strong> Poor grammar. Poor spelling. People who chew with their mouths open and chomp on potato chips. Traffic. People who complain and don't do anything to rectify their situation. Men. ;) Just kidding...kind of.<br />
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<strong>Q is for a quote:</strong>
"Don't wait, just let your heart speak. Don't waste another heartbeat. Because you'll never know, until you let it out. Say it now" -The Afters<br />
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<strong>R is for random fact about you: </strong>I'm a lefty. Which makes life extremely difficult. And people complain.<br />
<br /><strong>S is for favorite healthy snack</strong>: Almonds! Raw almonds. Holy crap, they are delicious!<br /><br /><strong>T is for favorite treat</strong>: Peanut Butter Cup Perfection ice cream from Coldstone. Drool...<br />
<br /><strong>U is for something that makes you
unique</strong>: Oh, man. Unique doesn't begin to describe me. Where do I begin?...<br />
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<br /><strong>V is for
favorite vegetable:</strong> Spinach! It used to make me gag as a child. Now I luuuurrrrve it.<br /><br /><strong>W
is for today’s workout:</strong> Running around the dealership trying to get men to fix their stupid mistakes. For 13 hours. <br />
<br /><strong>X is for X-rays you’ve
had:</strong> After my car accident when I was 16. Not my best night.<br />
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<strong>Y is for yesterday’s highlight:</strong> Driving past Denny's...this has no meaning to any of you. ;) Also, going to bed. Because I needed it so.<br />
<br />I don't know what happened to Z.<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-73152185831552066532012-05-01T04:00:00.000-05:002012-05-01T04:00:06.494-05:00Hey hey hey, it's MAY!...And today starts the Blog Me MAYbe blogfest! Click on the linky over there ----> to check out what it's all about and get to know some amazing writers!<br />
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Basically, I have to blog every single (week)day for the entire month of May. Yikes! I'm giving it my best shot, so I hope you're ready! :)<br />
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Mondays are writing related, so I'll just come right out and say it:<br />
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I need to do better.<br />
I've used the 'I'm too exhausted' excuse for almost two months now, since I started my new job. And yes, it's very true(I just got home from a 15 hour day and my eyeballs are floating somewhere up around my ceiling lights...), but it seems to me that this isn't going to change anytime soon.<br />
Therefore, I must change in order to make it work.<br />
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All around the blogosphere, on Twitter, and even on Facebook, my writing friends are sharing their success stories and I soak them in, envious to the tips of my toes, and SO SO proud of the things they are all accomplishing. I know that I will join them one day, hopefully soon, but I need to push myself to get it done.<br />
And I will! <br />
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Writing is my world; it is the one constant in my life, the only thing that makes me feel like ME, no matter what else is happening.<br />
Creating life from a spark of my imagination is the only true magic I've ever known, and I know I'm blessed to have been given this gift.<br />
These characters deserve a chance to tell their stories and they need me to write them down.<br />
How do I argue with that? <br />
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Starting next Monday, I hope to share with you my journey through my current projects and I hope you enjoy walking along with me! Everything is better with friends.<br />
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<strong>Are any of you struggling with making time to write lately?</strong> Tell me, please! Perhaps we can struggle together. :)<br />
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<a href="http://jaclyntphotography.net/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbQghjUexDov2C7RMEhIBFgGBLI2TYkC-Xz_OLO9vDdusyqIi0KwmARXlYDMKROyR9Nymtyef8GhEJDM-KP8rw2MUdK0QvCMau5n7MZhHsr2bw7wzIZ7Pu9Wh87uc-RWMvrGGy3jMr2Y/s320/3f6e3d38cc0048db9f2d473bf629b8d4_Large.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here's to a blog-filled May!<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-90741418165642368012012-03-21T06:00:00.000-05:002012-03-21T06:00:07.669-05:00I Have Nothing To SayA couple weeks ago, a friend so kindly reminded me that it had been a while since I last posted.<br />
I know.<br />
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I <em>know.</em><br />
<br />
And here I am, with nothing to say because holy balls, I am exhausted.<br />
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I missed a blog fest that I was very much looking forward to participating in because it was about crushes which meant I would be able to write about <em>boys</em> and my <em>crushes</em> and God knows I've had more than my share of those in this lifetime. <br />
But alas...I suck.<br />
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Here's what's been going on.<br />
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I got a job.<br />
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<strong><em>Wheeeeeeee!</em></strong><br />
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This is huge mainly because I've been unemployed for a year now, and I'm very poor. And now? I'm still poor but employed and managing to pay my rent so that I don't have to move into a refrigerator box.<br />
Here's what's awesome about my job:<br />
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1. I'm allowed to say the F word as often and as loudly as I like. Not only is this allowed, it is encouraged and cheered. And I? Have a potty mouth. Yay for the F word!<br />
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2. The owner sought me out to meet me and called me one of his daughters. This has never happened to me before. This is not what I am used to. This is awesome.<br />
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3. <em>Boys.</em> They are everywhere, and they dominate the business. Which is awesome since pretty much the only daily access to boys I've had in a year has been on TV shows and let's face it-Damon and Stefan probably won't be showing up at my door anytime soon. <br />
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Hey, look! I got to talk about boys after all! ;)<br />
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Things that suck about my job:<br />
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1. Traffic. <strong>TRAFFIC.</strong> To and from, an hour each way at least. And I'm only twenty minutes away!<br />
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Let me tell you about traffic. Traffic is a lot like football. Something that should take ten minutes is guaranteed to turn into a full hour. But while football can sometimes be edge-of-your-seat, the only exciting part of my drive is that dude over there, analyzing the booger he just picked. Who picks their nose in traffic?? People can see you, even if you're not looking. Duh.<br />
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Oh, and you, the asshat behind me. <em>I'd feel much better if I could see your freaking headlights so I know they're not about to ram up my ass.</em><br />
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Then there's those people who see a fender bender and get all <em>'OMG, did you SEE the size of that dent? It's like the size of my PINKIE finger! Let's slow down so we can get a better look because by golly, it's the apocalypse'.</em></div>
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And the fender benders happen because of the asshats who stop so close to the car in front of them that their headlights are no longer visible. </div>
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These people probably stop too close because they're too busy analyzing their own snot rockets to realize they should hit the brakes before their four door sedan becomes an accordian.</div>
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Needless to say, my Happy Friday mood tends to sour the second I pull onto the on-ramp.</div>
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And that is the worst thing about my job.</div>
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Then I come home, change for the gym, go sweat out my bad mood for about an hour and a half, shower off the sweat from said bad mood, scarf down a hastily made dinner, and make it to my laptop about five minutes before I pass out.</div>
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How did I have a job and function <em>before???</em></div>
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Now let's add in the time I need to get some writing done so that someday I no longer have to sit in traffic and watch other people eat their nose greens.</div>
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Heh.</div>
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<em>Once upon a time...</em></div>
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Apologies for this post about nonsense. Yay F word!</div>
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-24763981559732248272012-02-21T06:00:00.000-06:002012-02-21T06:00:01.099-06:00On Reading, Writing, and Talking About MyselfOkay, everyone.<br />
I don't do book reviews, but I DO pimp out phenomenal reads and try to convince you to read them!<br />
<br />
Over the past month, I've read several books, but only a couple have stuck out in my mind. Read them. Love them. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIoAAYxLnpUBv1G0m6unfkiCY_QVakh2KnjmlU5twz5h9hSlFHOQ9ULsiDkTqaCLjPGm3_WT1s8HYFwaRWhs35Ee7GfwmDnMsNxGmDlj7afnXYW6apB2AA_ubVMUWSWakDXGoOzjBhYwg/s1600/Saving+June.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIoAAYxLnpUBv1G0m6unfkiCY_QVakh2KnjmlU5twz5h9hSlFHOQ9ULsiDkTqaCLjPGm3_WT1s8HYFwaRWhs35Ee7GfwmDnMsNxGmDlj7afnXYW6apB2AA_ubVMUWSWakDXGoOzjBhYwg/s320/Saving+June.JPG" width="209" /></a></div>
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<br />
Last week, I posted an excerpt from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Saving-June-ebook/dp/B005WJDJTI" target="_blank">Saving June by Hannah Harrington</a>. It was for the Is It Getting Hot In Here blogfest, but that is not the reason I fell in love with the story. If you enjoy a good love story, this is it, sure. But if you fall for a raw, honest tale of life, love, and loss, you will love this book as much as I did. <br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRl_ku1ubp4sknNP7kROdfw4NE02FVQlevPKCFFnc_SZaQxSgz3BA5sfpdRefrmHq4N66HMEU4thWCMkWZcOvdHj5788d5U4oWQTyKkSCbazWjW-g9-Zs0IhRYpF0NOS3kt0GFgBPWd4/s1600/51Bl9ADBdlL__SL500_AA300_.jpg" /></div>
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No one likes cancer. To hear of it, live with it, read about it...anything. I'm no different. I lost a grandmother to it. Nothing about cancer is good. But<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fault-Our-Stars-ebook/dp/B005ZOBNOI" target="_blank"> this book</a>? This book made me see it differently. It made me see the strength in the victims, in the hope of survivors. I can't remember the last time a book touched me so deeply, made me see the world more clearly. This is not a sad story of death. This is an uplifting tale of spirit and life. Taking advantage of our time on this beautiful Earth. And understanding that even though life ends too soon, what we make of our time here is what truly matters the most. Also, John Green is full of awesomesauce. </div>
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I promise these books won't disappoint! They will, however, bring out the fanboy/girl in you. You've been warned.<br />
<br />
About writing...<br />
I've been doing so well with my writing lately, it's scary. Jumping back and forth between two stories has been easy and enjoyable. And pushes me much closer to my goal: to be out on submission by the end of this year! I vow to myself and to you all, my lovely readers: this is my year! :)<br />
<br />
And about myself...<br />
<br />
I was tagged to reveal six facts about myself by the unbelievably talented <a href="http://isabelbandeira.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Isabel Bandeira</a>. She has a way with words, and I'm so happy I discovered her blog. This lady is going places! Check out her blog. I know you'll adore her as much as I do.<br />
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As for me, and I'm sure you're all on the edges of your seats waiting to hear about what I could possibly say next to make you love me more ;), here's six facts about me that (I hope) I haven't revealed yet.<br />
<br />
1. This is the reason I have difficulties writing most nights:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVH3pJL-eKmPPY5S8fS3Td95zoUPwMvJBInSbkqreeRpmllvi3439IKhYS8cs7_YwaD9axorVODSxFOM_Pez3l4UyC6Uj31GS3l3ent7lx8i9fVRYBi4FO0WO9QNmiVj_aAZDHkZD8lCA/s1600/Dexter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVH3pJL-eKmPPY5S8fS3Td95zoUPwMvJBInSbkqreeRpmllvi3439IKhYS8cs7_YwaD9axorVODSxFOM_Pez3l4UyC6Uj31GS3l3ent7lx8i9fVRYBi4FO0WO9QNmiVj_aAZDHkZD8lCA/s320/Dexter.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, hai! I iz fluffy and petable. I stealz food and important things. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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His name is Dexter, and he is also the reason there is a packaged string cheese probably sloppily half-devoured under someone's bed or the couch or something this evening...but he's also how I stay warm in bed when our furnace inexplicably craps out mid-winter(or whatever this is in Chicago). I love him, but he gives me serious anxiety sometimes. The other cat has a weird fetish in which she sucks on my clothing...while I'm wearing them. I don't get it, it kind of freaks me out, but I can't help but love her and her girly meows and wide eyes.<br />
<br />
2. Someone recently asked me what my life's theme song would be and I responded with six of them:<br />
Brand New Day by Trevor Hall<br />
Have a Little Faith In Me by Joe Cocker<br />
This Is Your Life by Switchfoot<br />
Best Days by Graham Colton<br />
Sooner or Later by Mat Kearney<br />
Tonight by Tobymac<br />
<br />
Because how can you choose just one??<br />
<br />
3. I began writing my bucket list. Said list includes things such as 'Meet Josh Groban' and 'Buy a puppy'. Because my goals in life are simple and easily satisfied. <em>If only Josh Groban would give me ONE SECOND of his time, he could buy me a puppy and we'd live happily ever after!!!!</em><br />
(I'm not a stalker)<br />
(I might be kind of a stalker)<br />
(One of you has to have a Josh connection, right? RIGHT??)<br />
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4. On a more serious note, I lost my job again. The bakery I worked for went out of business and now I'm on the hunt again. The bright side is that the bakery proved to me how much I still want to open my own and taught me what NOT to do to run a successful business. I am grateful for the opportunity to work there and to learn SO much. Not to mention, it was such fun! I will miss it.<br />
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5. I choose candle scents based on what I'm writing at the time. For example, if I'm writing a beach story, I'll choose summery scents that remind me of the ocean. For a winter story, I choose Christmas and baking scents, anything that gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. It puts me in the mood and gets the creative juices flowing.<br />
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6. If I could move anywhere in the <em>States,</em> it would be to Georgia. My friends down there are nothing short of family and if I had the nerve to leave my family, I would be there in a heartbeat. However, if I ever had the opportunity to move to England, no one could stop me. Nothing, no one, no how, no way. I would be there, and I would love it. And I bet Josh Groban would love it with me. ;) Just kidding! Kinda...<br />
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Now, I'm supposed to tag others to reveal six facts about themselves, but I would honestly rather just link you to their amazing blogs. They have all touched my life in some way or another, and I hope they touch yours, too.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://themisadventuresincandyland.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Candace Ganger</a>-Because she is beautiful and inspiring.<br />
<a href="http://juleswrites.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Julie Dao</a>-Because her prose is melodic and haunting, and someday the whole world will know.<br />
<a href="http://isabelbandeira.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Isabel Bandeira</a>-She tagged me for this post, and everyone should see what this woman is made of. Mad skills, people. Amazing.<br />
<a href="http://www.carolinavaldezmiller.com/" target="_blank">Carolina Valdez Miller</a>-Read her blog. Enough said.<br />
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And that's that! Should these fellow bloggers choose to participate, excellent! If not, I am just happy to pass their greatness along.<br />
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A special shout-out to my newest followers: Thanks for the follow! You're the reason I'm here...glad to meet you!<br />
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<br /></div>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-63110166914432499142012-02-14T18:07:00.001-06:002012-02-14T18:07:24.337-06:00Is It Getting Hot In Here??Happy Valentine's Day! A day for being in love, for hating love...and for all sorts of love in between.<br />
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<br />
I'm late in posting, but I didn't want to miss out on the fun! Today is the Is It Getting Hot In Here Blog Hop hosted by <a href="http://readingwritingandlovinit.blogspot.com/2012/02/sexy-heated-bloghop-im-ready-for-ya.html" target="_blank">Cassie Mae</a>. Hop over to her page to check out the entries!<br />
I'm cheating this year because I didn't have time to write my own scene...instead I'm posting the kiss scene from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Saving-June-Hannah-Harrington/dp/0373210248" target="_blank">Saving June by Hannah Harrington</a>. I adored this book, and you should all read it! :)<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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The night air is clear and cool and silent, save for the bugs humming around the buttery-yellow lamps overhead, a car's wheels sounding against pavement as it guns out of the parking lot. And beyond that, faint echoes of the ocean tide.<br />
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'You can't hold yourself responsible for what she did,' Jake says, so softly I barely hear him. 'There's nothing you could have done. Nothing.'<br />
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I shake my head. 'You don't know that.'<br />
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'Come on, Harper. You're smarter than that. It was her choice. Hers, not yours.'<br />
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I feel like he's lying, except he's never lied before, he never sugarcoats anything, so why would he start now? And if he's right, it doesn't really change anything. It may not be my fault, but she's still gone, she still chose to leave. I'll still always wonder why I wasn't enough.<br />
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My eyes water, my breath catching in dry not-quite sobs. Jake moves toward me, but I wave him off.<br />
'I'm fine,' I insist, swallowing hard, trying to shove the emotion down again.<br />
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He says, 'You're not fine. And that's okay. No one is expecting you to be okay right now.'<br />
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'It doesn't matter, okay?' I whisper. 'How I am-it's not important. It doesn't matter.'<br />
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One of his hands falls across the inside of my knee. I turn my head to see his face, hovering inches from mine. His expression is so open and understanding and sympathetic that my throat closes up just looking at it.<br />
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He leans close and says, 'It matters to me,' right against my mouth, and then kisses me like he means it.<br />
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I've thought about what it'd be like to kiss Jake over the past few days, way more than I'd care to admit. But I don't even have time to register the firm press of his lips against mine, without breath, before he pulls back. His face freezes, eyes wide with <em>oh shit</em> written across them. Maybe I'd be offended if I wasn't so sure that my own expression matches his perfectly.<br />
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'I shouldn't have done that,' he blurts out. 'I'm an idiot.'<br />
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'Yeah,' I agree, 'you really are.'<br />
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I grab the collar of his shirt and tug him back to me.<br />
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<br />
........And then it gets better. ;)<br />
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I hope everyone has a wonderful Valentine's Day! I'm off to check out the rest of the entries....Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-31380467454977961382012-01-25T06:00:00.000-06:002012-01-25T06:00:06.072-06:00On Proving Yourself<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I took my friend out to lunch yesterday afternoon. No big deal, just the lunch special at Applebees, but she was very upset about something and I wanted to treat her.<br />
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As we were leaving the restaurant, we passed the woman who fired me and the owner of the company I had been fired from. I turned and smiled, calling out a friendly hello. Even though I had been fired, I understood the need to do so. I still don't understand why the person who created the situation has yet to be punished, but that's no longer my problem. I am a bigger person, and I will be okay.<br />
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But it got me thinking...since I lost my job last April, I have been excluded from any function these people have been invited to-<em>just in case</em> they were to show. As though I was the bad person, and my presence would make for an uncomfortable situation. I am not a hateful person. I've had nothing but respect for my former employers. I even like them, to this day. <br />
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Clearly, they don't feel the same way. <br />
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I'm not one to handle judgement well. If someone tells me I can't, I show them I can. Since losing my job, I've been bombarded with people asking if I'm 'okay'. They are concerned I'm not doing well. <br />
I'll say this: I'm not making the money I used to. I don't have a steady income, and I'm wondering how I'm going to make my next car payment. But don't you dare tell me I can't make it in this world in spite of that fact.<br />
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I'm a hard worker, and I know what it's going to take to make it doing what I love. And I will, someday. <br />
Someday, I will prove to everyone that I have what it takes. That I can do it, whether they believe in me or not.<br />
The past couple of years have been overflowing with people who seem set out to get me. They wait for my failure. They want to see me fall.<br />
But I know the day will come when I can look at those people, the ones who lied to me, who betrayed me, who tried to ruin me, and I will show them how wrong they were.<br />
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I hate to think that part of why I write is to prove others wrong. But it is. Even though I'm not getting paid for it YET, I'm doing exactly what I love to do. And I WILL make it. I will be the one who is happy, while they feed on the misery of others.<br />
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<strong>Has anyone ever told you you're not good enough to do what you love to do? Have you ever proven them wrong? </strong><br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-2446663993470859612012-01-17T13:28:00.000-06:002012-01-17T13:28:11.916-06:00Much Needed...As I'm sitting in my bed(yes, it's 1 PM, no, I don't care, have you <em>seen</em> the snow and wind outside???? Okay then), stalking Twitter and considering when I should suck it up and just START WRITING, damn it...I saw this, retweeted by <a href="http://fictiongroupie.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Roni Loren</a>:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBfFyJIBu1Onfb3Uxtl53McrOsp9pprMOmlaCYI_RFRNEVBaNiLZlASsdmENbcTjQRUeqVHsVlTh173AOSj8XHSFKRLSvxYEU_C3skihepB0BrXywDcwGeqSfX9GnTgdB_Ei2I3YwStk/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBfFyJIBu1Onfb3Uxtl53McrOsp9pprMOmlaCYI_RFRNEVBaNiLZlASsdmENbcTjQRUeqVHsVlTh173AOSj8XHSFKRLSvxYEU_C3skihepB0BrXywDcwGeqSfX9GnTgdB_Ei2I3YwStk/s1600/untitled.png" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/01/17/25-things-writers-should-start-doing/">http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/01/17/25-things-writers-should-start-doing/</a><br />
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And I read it. The whoooooole thing. And I laughed and I pondered and <em>really</em> wished it weren't snowing so I could go for some Dunkin Donuts coffee so that I could come back home, get under the covers, and WRITE.<br />
<br />
But it is snowing, I am freezing, the coffee will have to wait. <br />
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The good news is that this wonderful post helped me to say STFU to my pathetic excuses and just start writing.<br />
So I am! I hope everyone is having a wonderful, inspired day! <br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-81839534653693235582012-01-02T21:38:00.000-06:002012-01-02T21:38:21.682-06:00The No Kiss Blogfest!!!Hey, everyone! Sorry I'm a little late. I've been waiting for this day since January 3rd of LAST year! Y'all need to head over and check out all of the entries in the <a href="http://www.frankiediane.blogspot.com/2011/12/3rd-annual-no-kiss-blogfest.html" target="_blank">No Kiss Blogfest</a>, hosted annually by Frankie. It's something you don't want to miss! :)<br />
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Here's mine...a scene from a little story about revenge and what can happen when some<em>one</em> goes terribly wrong...very rough, but I'm excited about it!<br />
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<a href="http://th06.deviantart.net/fs20/PRE/f/2007/274/2/8/Almost_Kiss__in_Black___White_by_AshsAshsAlFalDwn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://th06.deviantart.net/fs20/PRE/f/2007/274/2/8/Almost_Kiss__in_Black___White_by_AshsAshsAlFalDwn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;">Ella checked the towering grandfather clock for what seemed
like the twenty-seven hundredth time that evening, realizing she had only an
hour left to sneak away from the ball without anyone noticing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Of course,
that was proving impossible considering her Cinderella-like entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brent hadn’t taken his eyes off of her once,
even while dancing with the most beautiful women in attendance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The urge to
stay in the ballroom and pretend this magical life was hers to enjoy forever
was too tempting, and Ella took a deep breath before sidestepping out the
double doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hoped no one saw her
leave, especially Brent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a
feeling he would make this difficult for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The main
study was down the first hall on her right, and she half-jogged, half-glided,
kicking off her heels as she went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
were too much of a hindrance and way too loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Glancing over
her shoulder, Ella leaned into the heavy door, twisted the knob, and
disappeared into the silent blackness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The room was
chilled, lack of life evident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she
was a child, she spent plenty of free time flipping through the pages of her
father’s thick novels while he pored over business paperwork.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now the only movement she ever witnessed in
here happened when she came in to clean the nonexistent dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, of course, when her stepmother
interviewed her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella swept
across the room, holding her dress up off the floor to avoid tripping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bookcases appeared exactly the same as
before, nothing more, nothing less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
ducked down behind the desk and tried the center drawer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Locked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Three
drawers, two shallow and one deep file drawer, were on the right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tried each one, failing at opening any of
them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Damn,” she
swore, smacking an open palm against the glossy top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She should have thought this through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course the things to be hidden would be
secure from outside tampering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Cinderella
only left behind one slipper, you know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella spun
around, her dress catching on the rolling desk chair and tearing with a
horrible ripping sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Brent stood
in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her heels dangling from an index
finger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ella couldn’t see his face in
the dark, but she could imagine the fire shooting through his eyes, a stranger
rummaging through his home like a regular klepto.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I was
looking for…the bathroom,” Ella improvised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Behind the
desk?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t convinced, and stepped
into the room, tossing the shoes onto an armchair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He moved slowly, arms crossed over his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His features
came into focus, but they weren’t angry as she expected. Rather, they gave away
nothing but intrigue, a small smile turning up the sides of his mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tissue,”
Ella said, yanking one from the box on the corner of the desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was never more thankful for her
stepmother’s idea of a masque to disguise eligible women from her son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he had any idea who she was, it was her
neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of her hard work would have
been in vain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was obvious he didn’t believe her, but Brent said nothing to suggest
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just kept moving closer, now
hooking his thumbs in his pockets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella stepped
backwards, panic making flight impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I didn’t mean to make you suspicious.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She hit the corner of the room, a few books toppling on the shelves
behind her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ignored them, oblivious
to everything but the close proximity between her and the man who could ruin
her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I know you,
don’t I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She shook her
head, a furious move that rattled her brain and made her see stars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No, I don’t think so.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I recognize your eyes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brent was
near enough that he could see them, although she was certain the color was
indeterminable in the lack of light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Still, she was thankful she chose to leave her disguising brown contacts
in her bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turquoise was not the
color anyone would expect in her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do you know
that you’ve been the talk of the party?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Brent grinned, his pearly whites visible, lighting up the space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella
flushed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Don’t you mean the talk of
your engagement party?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t
help the stab.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This wasn’t the same
party thrown every year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her stepmother
had made a mockery of the event.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Brent
chuckled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I get the feeling you’re
rather dissatisfied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not what you
expected?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What she
expected?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was nothing she’d ever
expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d expected, or maybe <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">wanted</i>, for him to be a disgusting
excuse for a human being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
supposed to be snide and cruel, someone she’d enjoy humiliating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Granted, he
was rather sarcastic, and he definitely knew how hot he was, but cruel was
something she knew he was not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
tonight, in his dark gray suit, baby blue shirt, and white tie, his ocean eyes
were visible across the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His shaggy
dark hair was unkempt and probably a thorn in his stepmother’s side, but it
made him that much more appealing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
stood with confidence but made it clear he wasn’t interested in a giggling
girly girl who would feed his ego.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
he kept saying things like, ‘Right, then’, and, ‘Piss it’, when he was
angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She never
expected a guy like him to be so charming and sexy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had to be the British thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Still, she
had no idea how to answer that question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
waiting,” Brent said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One more step and
he would be nose to nose with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella lifted
her chin, the sequins on her silver mask catching the moonlight and
half-blinding her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I expected no less
than what the evening delivered,” she finally answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It revealed nothing, yet sounded insulting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was proud of herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But Brent’s
smile simply widened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was he laughing at
her?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Without her
realizing it, the tips of his shoes touched the tips of her toes and he tilted
his head down, lips centimeters away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh, God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ella sucked in her breath, trying to think
quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she let him kiss her, she
was done for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of her work would be
for naught.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could never find
vengeance against his family if she fell for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to mention rude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Although the
idea of torturing him by allowing the kiss and then disappearing forever was
tempting…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I make you
uncomfortable,” Brent whispered, and she could smell mint on his breath, as if
he’d just brushed his teeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He brushed
his thumb against her cheek and she felt her knees shake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damn, he was
good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You think
very highly of yourself,” Ella retorted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He chuckled
and leaned further in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Kiss or no?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Do it or don’t?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I do,” Brent
said, stepping away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And you should
leave before I have you thrown out of my home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella stared
at him, the way his eyes hardened, his arms crossed severely, his firm
stance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The complete opposite of the man
she was falling for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And exactly the
jerk she expected him to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked
from her to the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Goodbye.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ella didn’t
wait, turning on her heel and booking out of the room and out the front doors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-67472989232411246582011-12-27T00:17:00.001-06:002011-12-27T00:18:37.160-06:00On My Mind...What an amazing weekend! <a href="http://juliedorris.blogspot.com/2011/12/believe.html" target="_blank">After posting my story on Friday</a>, I received compliments from a ton of people who were astounded by the story...and plenty more who kept repeating, 'you should be a writer'.<br />
<br />
In answer to them...I'm trying! Someday, I PROMISE, I will be on a bookshelf at Barnes and Noble. It's a promise to myself. One I will keep.<br />
<br />
The most important thing that came from that story, however...is that it helped people. People who are hurting, people who can't move on. I've recieved messages from family and friends who have shared it with others, people I've never even met...and it's helped them heal, helped them find hope again.<br />
<br />
That? Is exactly what I've always wanted to accomplish with my writing. I write for myself, of course, but along the way, if I can touch someone who is reaching out...my job is done. I consider that a success in itself. I don't have to be famous. My words matter to someone.<br />
<br />
I'm not alone in this process. Someday, I will have a dedication inside the front and back cover of a story that's all my own, but it will mean nothing without the people who helped me get there. You know who you are. I am endlessly grateful for your words of encouragement and inspiration. My writing friends, even though I've never met you...you are family. To my family and friends, soon enough, you will see. <br />
<br />
It starts now.<br />
<br />
I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas(My entire family is sick with either a cold or the flu...touche, Santa.)! <br />
<br />
Don't forget to sign up for the<a href="http://www.frankiediane.blogspot.com/2011/12/3rd-annual-no-kiss-blogfest.html" target="_blank"> No Kiss Blogfest hosted by Frankie on January 2nd</a>! Third annual! Can't miss it!<br />
<br />
<strong>What do you hope to accomplish with your writing? Is it strictly for you? Or do you write for something greater? I would love to hear...</strong><br />
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-35347940358265558542011-12-23T05:20:00.000-06:002011-12-23T05:20:25.143-06:00* Believe *<div style="text-align: center;">
'Angels deliver fate to our doorstep' -Jessi Lane Adams</div>
<br />
Coincidence or a miracle? You decide...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRk5gZzvH63ce_bjG2mzqrL6AlJuT4IH5tPzKYtPa7lR_6OeDMt9-SVD4e5ZFvTTCbyGIiom30XUCrMvCdI0mCvjGZnyDcnCpsfXnvSXVretb_lh3MKTvg0JYZsQjW5uMNE2WzKydf0U/s1600/Believe-photography-9501412-2400-1600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRk5gZzvH63ce_bjG2mzqrL6AlJuT4IH5tPzKYtPa7lR_6OeDMt9-SVD4e5ZFvTTCbyGIiom30XUCrMvCdI0mCvjGZnyDcnCpsfXnvSXVretb_lh3MKTvg0JYZsQjW5uMNE2WzKydf0U/s320/Believe-photography-9501412-2400-1600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
My dad was the one you averted your eyes from.<br />
He was the one who made you clutch your purse tight against your body, grasp your children's hands tighter.<br />
He was the one you crossed the street to stay away from, the one you pretended didn't exist.<br />
My dad endured stones being thrown at him, literally, simply for breathing the same air as the 'better' people.<br />
<br />
My dad was homeless. <br />
<br />
For my entire adult life, I had no idea where he was, if he was alive or dead, warm or cold...safe or in danger.<br />
<br />
Four years ago yesterday, I was called to the hospital where I said my final goodbye, where I held his hand, told him I loved him, and felt him squeeze mine back, the slightest of pressure but SO real...he died the following day, the 23rd. Today.<br />
I never truly moved on.<br />
<br />
This year has been more than trying for me. While I'm much happier than I was last year, the struggles I've had to wade through have seemed catastrophic and impossible at times. In April, I lost my job after 12 years of dedicated service because of someone else's dishonesty. In July, I had to find a new place to live because I could no longer afford my apartment based on unemployment. I had nowhere to go but backwards, and I was determined to stay afloat unless living in a box was my only other option.<br />
<br />
Then I met Christine. She is a bartender at the bar I 'frequent', but we'd never spoken on a personal level. She barely even knew my drink order. One night, Christine was at the same bar where I was with friends. Her own friends had just ditched her and she spent the night depressed and angry. Somehow, we started talking and I learned that she needed a roommate to keep up with her mortgage. I expressed my need for a room and by the end of the night, it was settled. I was set to move in as soon as my lease was up the next month.<br />
<br />
We have lived together since, but never really got into the nitty gritty of our pasts. Then one night, we began to share. I opened up, told her about my father and how I had to grow up earlier than most.<br />
Her first question was, 'He wasn't homeless around Joliet, was he?'.<br />
Yes. He was. She asked his name, and when I told her(Frank), she didn't recognize it.<br />
<br />
Then she told me about the homeless men who would come into the bar for free drinks most of the bartenders would hand out. How she never gave them free liquor, only free food. <br />
She mentioned one man, a man the whole bar knew as 'the dirty hippie', and how she could sense something different, more trustworthy in him. <br />
After a while, this man became her friend, a confidant. She drove him to the store, brought him food and blankets where she knew he was staying, allowed him to sit in her warm car on cold winter nights. She expressed how she longed to invite him into her home, give him a warm bed and a hot shower so that he wouldn't have to suffer in the cold, but couldn't because, after all, who knew who this man really was?<br />
<br />
I was struck by my roommate's kindness. How many people would do this for a homeless person? Not many at all. I'd always wondered if my own father had been greeted with such compassion.<br />
<br />
She told me that this man had saved her life one Christmas. She'd been in a dark place with her own family, her own father. And this man shared his story with her, the story of his family, of his daughters he'd left behind. He told her that fathers made mistakes, but she needed to understand that hers loved her, the same as he loved his own family. Then he hugged her and promised her that she mattered. She never saw him again.<br />
<br />
Christine began describing this man...dirty, with longish graying hair, a chip in his front tooth...<br />
<br />
"My dad had a chip in his front tooth," I interrupted, astonished. But really, this couldn't be that uncommon, right? Lots of people had chips in their teeth. Especially alcoholics who were prone to falling down and having accidents. It happened.<br />
<br />
But just to see, Christine sent a text message to a former bartender, a guy who worked there at the same time. She asked who the homeless man they called the dirty hippie was, did he remember his name?<br />
<br />
His reply came in one word: 'Frank'.<br />
<br />
This homeless man who saved Christine's life, this man who lived across the street from the very place I was working, this man who was a mystery to me....he was my father.<br />
<br />
Today, my dad's ashes are in an urn in my bedroom. I keep him with me because for the first time since his downhill turn, I know where he is. I never have to wonder again if he's cold or hungry or hurting. He is in my care and that is exactly where I've always needed him to be. With me.<br />
<br />
My father's ashes are in Christine's house, exactly where she wanted him to be, in a warm home where she knew he was safe and taken care of. A stranger's compassion a surreal reality, four years later.<br />
<br />
It's as if he's here right now, making sure I'm taken care of, helping me along this rocky path. I'm convinced he is the reason Christine and I met that night. <br />
Everything happens for a reason...I was meant to meet Christine because she was the one person who showed my father that no matter what, he was important. <br />
<br />
My father saved someone's life days before he lost his own.<br />
<br />
Now he's saving mine.<br />
<br />
I've never been a terribly religious person. I believe in God, I couldn't imagine making it through a day without some kind of Christian music flowing through my speakers in the car, and I pray often, but I don't attend church and I don't preach. I just believe.<br />
But I can't imagine how anyone could not believe in SOMETHING besides coincidence after this. <br />
There is no way that's what this is. <br />
<br />
What else could it be?<br />
<br />
This is, without a doubt, the greatest Christmas gift I have ever received. I now know that someone cared for my father, that someone gave him the kindness he needed...even if he wasn't father of the year. I'm now convinced he lived across the street from my work because it was the closest he could be to me. He was there and I never knew.<br />
<br />
I owe so much to Christine. I only hope that she knows how much she really DOES matter.<br />
<br />
Whether you believe in God and miracles, or nothing at all, I hope that this story helps you realize how important the people in your lives are. Never waste a day with them...tell them you love them. <br />
<br />
And never EVER write a person off as worthless.<br />
<br />
You never know when they might be an angel in disguise.<br />
<br />
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Merry Christmas to all of you.<br />
<br />
And to my father, Frank Kuiken...you were always meant to be an angel. RIP.<br />
<br />
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-36772909064269513522011-12-19T22:28:00.000-06:002011-12-19T22:28:17.988-06:00~*~ Special Invitation ~*~I'm still making my way around to all of the Deja Vu Blogfest entries since my computer isn't very Julie-friendly lately...<br />
And I just wanted to invite y'all to stop by this Friday, the 23rd, for an extra special post. If you want a Christmas story, I have the ultimate. <br />
<br />
I'll be linking to it through Facebook as well, so if you want a reminder, just friend me! I never turn down blogging friends. :)<br />
<br />
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Hope to see you on Friday!Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-1353776173658268172011-12-16T06:00:00.000-06:002011-12-19T22:28:45.113-06:00The Deja Vu Blogfest!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Today is the <a href="http://dlcruisingaltitude.blogspot.com/2011/11/deja-vu-blogfest.html" target="_blank">Deja Vu Blogfest</a>, in which everyone participating has to choose a former post to REpost. Check out all the entries, there are TONS!<br />
<br />
The following is a post I wrote last year when I was at my worst(at THAT point...yeah). I was going through a horrible time and my friends here were such a huge help. I love you all for everything you've ever said or done....you're all an inspiration.<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
5-12-10<br />
<br />
<strong><u>For the Love of....!!!!</u></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
Everyone has heard that love conquers all. <br />
<br />
And for a while now, I've strongly doubted that. In fact, I've scoffed at the very thought. <br />
But very recently, I made a discovery: Love truly does conquer all. All doubt, all pain, all anger....it will all vanish if true love is there.<br />
<br />
When I say this, however, I do not mean that love for someone else will conquer all of the darkness that hurt and betrayal leave behind. Because how can you love someone else before you learn to truly love yourself?<br />
<br />
You can't. <br />
<br />
I've been going through such a dark period of my life lately...darker than any other I've faced before. <br />
I've given up the two things I love the most in my life: writing and reading. Because taking part in either activity left my brain boggled and my heart aching. I stopped feeling for these things and I knew it wasn't right.<br />
How can the things I love the most leave me so stressed out? <br />
<br />
I couldn't concentrate on fiction because I couldn't relate to it anymore. I had so much going on, so much tension in this very real world, the land of make believe no longer held the magic it once had.<br />
<br />
The last time I posted here, one person said something that really made me think.<br />
<br />
Candace at <a href="http://themisadventuresincandyland.blogspot.com/">Candyland</a> left a comment that stated, 'Sometimes the best stories are our own'.<br />
<br />
It's not like I haven't heard that before. But when I saw it written before me, in response to everything I had poured into that one post, something clicked.<br />
<br />
I was going about my healing process the wrong way. I couldn't use my current WIPs to get me through this. I couldn't escape into a book the way I used to because I couldn't relate.<br />
You must write the story you wish to read.<br />
<br />
And what more could I want to read than the outcome of my current situation? What would help me more than writing through my troubles? <br />
<br />
Nothing.<br />
Absolutely nothing.<br />
Because writing is what I am. It's not just a hobby. It's a way of life. A lifeline.<br />
And I finally grabbed hold of that rope. And I'm pulling myself out of the ravine, one word at a time.<br />
<br />
Things won't get better as quickly as I'd like. But they will get better. And thanks to one person who helped me open my eyes, I'm going to get there the only way I know how.<br />
<br />
I'm sure you're wondering how this ties into love conquering all. Writing is my one true love. It will always be there, will always be a part of me. Writing is a way of loving myself.<br />
It's not selfish. It's self love. And you must must must have self love in order to make it through life happily. <br />
<br />
I still doubt the notion that love will conquer all when used in reference to a romantic relationship or an outside relationship at all. There's always going to be dealbreakers.<br />
But love for yourself absolutely <em>will</em> conquer all. Because I love myself, because I am taking the time to do what is right for me, I know that I will come out of this mess a much better person. <br />
<br />
I don't plan on trying to publish what I'm working on right now because it's for me, but at least it will give me practice!<br />
<br />
I'm slowly but surely making my way back into the blogging world. I don't feel overwhelmed anymore. Thank you to everyone who left a kind comment, to everyone who paused to think of me,even for a second. Your support means the world!<br />
<br />
Until next time...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-51824004607490347512011-12-12T08:00:00.001-06:002011-12-12T08:00:02.834-06:00Yay For Exciting Things!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGNvkfWq3hAnOQOW0gsOXxXRAMedn_rsv53A7vWEDdrryIQ51_b5r9aRJWrToXrAwGNq_DyXLlZ5kle3AQ7fI9007mXlgwTg22A7wJoCf3A3Y_EJkQxC1FH3UTnNAvScKFc6o2pHQoQs/s1600/261442_249225681761008_221937967823113_1237490_3551963_n_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGNvkfWq3hAnOQOW0gsOXxXRAMedn_rsv53A7vWEDdrryIQ51_b5r9aRJWrToXrAwGNq_DyXLlZ5kle3AQ7fI9007mXlgwTg22A7wJoCf3A3Y_EJkQxC1FH3UTnNAvScKFc6o2pHQoQs/s320/261442_249225681761008_221937967823113_1237490_3551963_n_large.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
My first order of business when rejoining the blogging world was to go in search of blogfests, something to get me back out there. Of course, I knew that the 3rd annual <a href="http://frankiediane.blogspot.com/2011/12/3rd-annual-no-kiss-blogfest.html">No Kiss Blogfest </a>was coming up on January 2nd, just like always and it's my absolute FAVORITE. Everyone should run over and sign up right away because it's just the best.<br />
I also joined the <a href="http://dlcruisingaltitude.blogspot.com/2011/11/deja-vu-blogfest.html">Deja Vu Blogfest</a> on December 16th, which means I'll be rereading all of my old posts. Could be fun! I can't wait to see what everyone chooses for this!<br />
<br />
I'm really enjoying getting back into the swing of things, checking out what I've been missing and getting to know the writing world again. It's inspired me to write as much and as often as I'm physically able to. I can't wait to get started!<br />
<br />
<b>Are any of you joining blogfests? Which ones?</b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54489/241/62621569E24496859E69E6BF9269F8FF.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-43955622698939305952011-12-05T20:05:00.000-06:002011-12-05T20:05:54.521-06:00Well...Here We Go AgainI don't know how many posts I can begin with 'sorry I've been absent for so long'. I can't even imagine how irrelevant people must find my blog anymore. I would. <br />
But.<br />
I'm going to try. <br />
So much has happened over the past few months-some good, some bad, some horrible, some amazing. <br />
<br />
If anyone is willing to come around after so long, I even have a story to share around Christmas that will hopefully inspire you as much as it's inspired me.<br />
<br />
I'll try to stick to a schedule...once a week, most likely Monday since I'm off work(yay for getting a job! More later), and then I'll go from there. <br />
The truth is, I miss all of you! My blogging friends feel like real life friends and I hate being away. <br />
<br />
I feel as though I'm starting a new chapter of my life and writing is a massively huge part of it. So at least I'll have something to say! ;)<br />
<br />
Just wanted to say hi, and let you know I'm around. Hope everyone is well and I can't wait to hear from you again!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54489/241/62621569E24496859E69E6BF9269F8FF.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-10060916042242554862011-08-22T00:22:00.000-05:002011-08-22T00:22:42.142-05:00SHHH!!!!....I have a secret....<br />
<br />
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<br />
I've found THE ONE. You know...the one who makes your heart flutter with that feeling of magic...<br />
<br />
I fall asleep with this One on my mind and think of this One each and every morning, first thing. I dream about our future together, about the happiness I know we'll have because, well, this is just IT.<br />
<br />
My appetite is failing me(which is good, actually ;)<br />
<br />
I've actually stayed in on several occasions to spend hours staring into bright eyes full of promise and meaning. Sometimes I don't even get out of bed.<br />
<br />
To say this is an obsession is an understatement. This relationship is all-consuming. It is unique. It is beautiful. <br />
<br />
It is perfect.<br />
<br />
I've never fallen so into my writing as I have been over the past several weeks.<br />
This feeling is something I've never experience before and it is by far the best in existence. Nothing has ever topped the euphoria of finding THE ONE.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcS2dy37p6F2TvBkEM8KcYC6OXiztGrKLbYbJUB4G27YEkficrNyut667RVLOU851x3OwP5383JRKnC-N0ataoMSaJIZztBgGdMmm8oIHQbBpJkDXkB548y6CNgdi7YG2Hqs4SieCFK5Y/s1600/love_book1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="211" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcS2dy37p6F2TvBkEM8KcYC6OXiztGrKLbYbJUB4G27YEkficrNyut667RVLOU851x3OwP5383JRKnC-N0ataoMSaJIZztBgGdMmm8oIHQbBpJkDXkB548y6CNgdi7YG2Hqs4SieCFK5Y/s320/love_book1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
What did you think I meant!?? Hahaha.<br />
<br />
I've had the title for years. I just didn't have the story. Weird, right? <br />
And then one night, I had this dream.<br />
And then I saw this movie. <br />
And then I logged onto Facebook and saw this post.<br />
<br />
All of which I'll talk about later.<br />
<br />
Let's just say all of these things were overwhelming and screamed in my face...and I got the hint.<br />
I've hardly done anything but write since.<br />
<br />
All I have to say???<br />
THANK. GOD.<br />
<br />
I've been waiting for this.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54489/241/62621569E24496859E69E6BF9269F8FF.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9056301047426711717.post-54949067634809233722011-07-27T00:03:00.004-05:002011-07-27T00:15:13.973-05:00Writerly Distractions<iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cV6I1_o6vrY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />CANNOT. STOP. WATCHING. And laughing.<br /><br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/txqiwrbYGrs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Just because it's super funny.<br /><br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KQ6zr6kCPj8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Because I challenged a guy to a synchronized dance session the next time I saw him and have spent all my time memorizing these ultra-challenging dance moves(the running man?? Hell yeah.).<br /><br />Also, I read 2 full books in 1 day, cleaned my whole apartment because I had a date, and made brownies. They were yummy. <br /><br /><strong>Anyone else have something to distract me??</strong>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850344847209933016noreply@blogger.com2