For Better or Worse

Despite my click baity (that’s a word, right?) title, I am not getting married. Not even close. I’m not even dating. Although last night I did have a dream that someone asked me out. So that’s something. Although he had no teeth, and smelled distinctly of urine, I still said yes, so it counts.

Apparently the men in Charlotte are not ready for these little rolls of love on my sides, the brightly colored rainbow hues I often rock on my lips and nails or this swirling mass of bees I call hair. *Shrug*

I have been off the dating (and every other) scene for a while, and for good reason. I finally got a new job and was being held hostage for 10 weeks for training. Sweet, sweet, useful training, 90% of which I forgot before I even settled into my cubicle. *Shrug x2*

The job is better than my old one in a few ways. I am not inhaling exhaust fumes for several hours a day, I’m not being attacked by fruit flies and I am being paid a liveable wage. They are always feeding us for one reason or another though, so if the Charlotte men dont like my love rolls now, theres no hope for me.

Now the bad. Unfortunately, unlike my old gig I do not get to abuse Netflix and well, chill like I used to. I have to use decorum in real life and dress semi professionally. And they expect me to adhere to a schedule! Hence the worst.

My son left for Airforce boot camp 8 weeks ago, which takes the total of friends/ people I know really well here to about 2.5. All these years I kept meaning to cultivate a life for myself but there was always something else that needed to be done for the kid. So now theres no kid, but no life either. I keep hearing about how many things there are to do here, how charlotte is “up and coming” but I’m really not seeing it. Maybe I have to look closer. Getting manicure’s and going to the grocery store do not an exciting life make.

The way I figure it I have two choices. I can either get to trying to make some kind of a life here, or I can start collecting cats…and do you think im changing litter with these nails?


Real quick….


So this will be a short one, considering a storm is coming and North Carolinians are losing their sh*t. Everyone is stocking up on essentials like it’s the apocalypse, which if it is, I’m screwed. I don’t know anyone who is or used to be an ex-marine, or worked for the government years ago but quit when he let a child die accidentally, or lost his family because he cared too much about work and is now being pulled back in for one last job-saving the world. Also, I’m no good at cardio. See? Screwed.

I will be leaving work early to go to the grocery store to buy food and candles for the inevitable loss of power. Side note: Why do people always stock up on bread, eggs and milk for a storm? Is there some kind of french toast storm prep rule I don’t know about?  Also, I need to make sure all of my devices are charged up. I will be cold and in the dark, but I will not be without Buzzfeed. There’s only so much a girl can take.

Anyway, since I’m poor and don’t have a laptop at home, I wanted to jot down my thoughts about this week while at work. First off, I have received four, count ’em four 5 star reviews on my recently released novel (entitled Falling in Love with a Lie, available on Amazon for 0.99 now and paperback next month) and am actually showing up in Google search results. Of course you have to type the title exactly but…still. Progress.

Also, I have a better job offer pending. They have been stringing me along for weeks, and I think I have finally emailed them the last of the background information that they needed. I also included my sons social security number, a lock of my grandmothers hair and a vial of my blood, just to be safe.

Lastly, I have realized through stalking everyone else’s pages that people write really deep and thought provoking post here. I need to step my game up…..

Ok I’m out. Have a safe and snow free weekend.

Masturbation and birthday cake!

fw-Ash's Birthday CakeYesterday was my son’s birthday. I knew it was going to be a special day from the very start. On my way to work this morning I heard someone say, next stop, “masturbation station.” There were only a handful of people on the bus at this point, and I didn’t know whether to be intrigued or terrified. I chose a happy medium.

I got to work. Mexican celebration music poured from the back. I tripped over my computer cords, huffing and puffing because I had to move my chubby legs for ten minutes without stopping while walking from the bus stop. My boss was screaming at someone in Hebrew on the phone. You know, same old, same old.

I got so wrapped up in work that day that I almost forgot it was my son Ty’s birthday. He’d turned 19 and was the weirdest, most irritating, smartest kid I had ever met. When he was a boy he was crippling shy. He was an extremely close talker and he only really talked to me. He had no trouble making friends but opted to stay alone. At one point I decided that he was either going to grow up to be a school shooter or an investment banker ie; Patrick Bateman. Luckily, he hasn’t become either. He is still quiet and a close talker, but he is Air Force bound and responsible. He is smart and respectful and handsome. I’m proud of him and the person he’s become blah, blah, blah…More importantly, I’m proud of myself.  I, singlehandedly kept another person alive for the last 19 years. If you knew the two of us, you would understand how big a deal this is. He has survived near drowning, roller skating off of my shed kitchen roof, swallowing a tiny toy gun. Never mind the two nerds shoved up his nose, the possum he trapped in our dog cage (I coached him from the safety of my living room window for that one) and a house fire. I kept him alive all while teaching him compassion, self confidence and how to screen calls so I’m not disturbed unnecessarily.

I’m amazing. Happy birthday to me….and Ty I guess.

Smiling next to Oprah and the Queen….but first, pay my phone bill

imgresI’m not going to lie. I have dreams of being famous. Maybe not necessarily super rich, but definitely famous. I have always known that I was meant to be someone. And not in a “We’re all special” kind of way, but really someone. I had a long talk with myself one day, right around the time my Tiffany  tape stopped in my purple boom box suddenly and I heard my own voice. By the way, I was definitely a Tiffany girl, the big hair and jean jacket with rolled sleeves screamed rebellion, so suck it Debbie Gibson.

I knew then and there I needed to hone in on what I was good at, which clearly wasn’t singing….or dancing…..or Algebra. The only thing I could do pretty well was write.

So I wrote a short story. And made it into a longer story.  As soon as it was released I knew it was going to be ground breaking. This is what I needed to put me into the upper echelon. It was going to be distributed worldwide and make me an overnight celebrity….enter Oprah and the Queen.

So far….nothing. Well, not nothing exactly, I’ve had very good reviews and feedback from people other than those that are forced to love me, which is encouraging. In the meantime I sit here at my desk and avoid actual work. I have thirty seven dollars in my checking account and just got off the phone with a representative who I have the sneaking suspicion does not give two beans about my books release, and still expects me to pay my own bill. When I go home I will have to prepare my own dinner (peanut butter from the jar and tap water) and brush my own teeth. This is bs.

Still, I trudge forward like the pioneer that I am, even though Oprah hasn’t asked me to visit her, we don’t have selfies on Instagram, nothing. I have paid my dues and been patient.

It’s been three days since my book’s been released!! Come on already!!!

Maybe it takes four days to be an overnight sensation. They should actually revise that saying.


p.s. I’m sure Debbie Gibson is a very nice lady. It was the frustration talking.



Falling In love With a Lie

What determines our happiness? What lengths would you go to achieve it? Would you be satisfied when you finally attained it, or would you even recognize it if you did?
Laya Thomas had everything a young African American executive could want; intelligence, charm, and an insatiable appetite for success. The only thing that was missing in her list of impressive attributes may have been the most important, and that was her morals. She used sex, betrayal and black mail to help her achieve her goals; nothing was taboo in her book. She’d formed a plan as soon as she met Jonathan Roust, the firm’s new president. It was natural to her, arranging every facet of her life, down to the very last detail. What she had not planned on was falling in love.

Jonathan was handsome and smart, but more than that, he was honest and hardworking, the complete opposite of Laya. From his first day in his new position he’d heard rumors about the beautiful dragon in marketing, but he never took gossip to heart. Something about her was intriguing him; made him think that there was more than what was on the surface, and what everyone thought of her. He began spending more and more time with her, ignoring the nagging voice of doubt in his head that warned him against it. What she had with Brian was a fling, a mistake that she regretted, hadn’t she said that herself? Everyone was allowed one indiscretion in their lives, weren’t they? He wouldn’t become one of the pointing fingers, he would find out who she really was for himself.

Brian McGovern had fallen hard from Laya from the beginning, and held on long after she had let him go. She’d started slipping away from him from the day Jonathan arrived, and he felt completely powerless to stop it. He had known guys like Jonathan all his life, guys that seemed to have everything given to them, while he had to fight tool and nail for the slightest recognition. Well, he wasn’t going to let it happen this time, not with her. Either she would take him back or Laya and her precious boss would pay, and he had the perfect weapon to do it in Reagan.

Reagan Hallowell is Laya’s fifteen-year-old niece and her biggest fan. She came to live with her aunt intent on learning how to emulate her every move and instead ended up in the middle of a sorted love affair. Losing more and more of herself everyday, and lacking the discipline she knew at home, Reagan decides to put everything that she has learned from Laya into practice, against her! Reagan crosses her aunt in a decision that could help unravel everything Laya worked so hard to build.