Monday, May 23, 2016

Interactive story Prologue - Continued. Never Forgotten

Welcome back. Let’s get started. Oh, wait. Sorry, you have time to grab a plate of goodies and your favorite beverage. It’s a little chilly still, we’ll settle in the Rose House to keep warm. The view is gorgeous though. Ready?

Last week you were asked to pick a genre and title, and while many read the prologue only two visitors commented with feedback. They both said to go with the Romantic Suspense/Thriller and the title is Never Forgotten.

Prologue – Cont.

*****

Johnny really liked Ted’s new game, Jumanji. He rolled the eight sided dice and then picked up the rhyming card to decode the message. If he failed to decode the message and rescue Ted from danger then the jungle could swallow you whole. So far, Johnny wasn’t sure how that happened since they’d both been able to decode the message. He really didn’t know if he wanted to find out.

“Whew, I was worried I wouldn’t get the rhyme on that one. Your turn Ted.”

Before his friend had a chance to read his card, his mother called from the kitchen. “Johnny, it’s five. Weren’t you supposed to be home now?”

Johnny looked over his shoulder at the big clock he could see through the arch that hung in Ted’s kitchen. Jeez, Carla would kill him. He’d have to find out what happened with the game next time.

“I like your new game Ted, I’m going to save up my money so I can go see the movie.”

“Yeah, me too, do you think you can this weekend?” Ted asked as he grabbed the box that held the game.

Johnny quickly helped clean up. “I’ll ask Carla if she can lend me some money." Then at the door as he was about to leave, "See you tomorrow at school. Bye Mrs. Chambers.”

It was only a few minutes from the Chambers home to get to his house. His mother wouldn’t be home until it was time for bed. He didn’t like it, but he was used to it. Carla would help him with his homework after dinner. Then he’d have to take a bath before he could read his book. He wished they had a television, but the old crappy one they had broke a month before. His mother said they had too many other things they needed, apparently, more important than a TV.

Ted had a color television, and he could buy new games like Jamanji. Some day when Johnny was big, he’d get a good job and buy all the thing he wanted. And he’d buy them for his mom and Carla too.

Johnny sighed as he reached the door. He turned the knob, but it was locked. That was weird, Carla always left it open for him. He knocked on the wood panel, “Hey open the door.”

Maybe Carla had fallen asleep after her homework. He yelled and knocked a second time. Nothing. Carla must have really worn herself out with her program today at school. He shrugged and started around the house. They had a hiding place with a spare key he figured his mother would consider this to be one of those situations where the key was needed.

He had been instructed never to us the key unless it was an emergency situation. His mom said you just never knew who could be watching and see where the key was hidden. When he reached the back yard, he had to wade through the foot high weeds; he figured the grass hadn’t been mowed since his dad left. He didn’t even remember the man.

Johnny looked both ways, making sure none of his nosy neighbors was watching. He found the key and unlocked the door, looking around again he replaced the key before he went inside.

He threw his backpack on the table. Walked to the hall and hollered, “Hey Carla?”

When she didn’t answer, he went to the fridge pulled the door open and found their dinner still in the cover dish their mom had left. He might as well get it started. He went to the stove and turned on the oven to heat up the way his mom had taught him. Sometimes Carla had school stuff and he had to fend for himself as his mom told him.

Once dinner was in the oven and heating, he went to Carla’s room to wake her up. But his sister wasn’t in her room or his room or the living room. She wasn’t home. Then he looked for her backpack and jacket. Hadn’t Carla come home when he’d left her to go with Ted?

Where could she be? His tummy stirred, sort of like that time he had the flu and he was sick all over the carpet.

*****

Who had stuffed cotton in her mouth? Carla swallowed and tried to push the cotton, or whatever it was, with her tongue but nothing was there. Her mother used the saying sometimes my mouth is dry as a dessert and that was exactly what her mouth felt like. Her brain wouldn’t work either, she tried to relay a message to her eyelids to open, but they just wouldn’t obey.

What was going on? Think Carla. She remembered bits and pieces of things. The car… Then a woman’s voice, images of a room, a car again—different than the one by her home.

Finally, she was able to open her eyes and look around. There were several girls around the room chatting. Her gut told her not to let them know she was awake. Her mother had told her always follow what her tummy told her, and it said to appraise the situation to be prepared when they, whoever the people who took her were, found out she was conscious.

She’d never been in a dormitory, but she imagined the room was what one would look like. Bunk beds lined the walls she moved her head carefully so no one would notice, but mostly because her head felt like it was going to explode. She counted eight of them, and taking in the number of groups of girls, sixteen girls would be about the right number for the beds.

Where was she?

“Hey look, the new girl is awake.”

A pretty blonde girl grabbed the hand of a petite girl who looked about Carla’s age and together they came to the edge of the bed and stared down at her. The smaller one smiled at her.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s not a bad place,” the blonde told her.

Carla struggled to a sitting position, then sat very still until her tummy settled and her visions stopped waving. Swallowing down the sick that threatened to come up and land most likely on the two girls pretty shoes, she drew in a breath and counted to ten before she let it out.

“Don’t worry you’ll feel better after Miss Naomi gives you a tablet and some food,” the smaller one said.

“What is going on? I need to go home.” She looked around and noticed everyone had stopped talking and listened. “My little brother will be afraid.”

“Miss Naomi will give you instructions.” Then the girl repeated, “don’t be afraid.”

Carla didn’t like this at all, she was more than afraid. She was terrified.

“Well it looks like our new friend is awake.”

She turned her head too fast and had to close her eyes again. The brief glimpse registered twinkling jewelry, and the woman was tall. When Carla felt she could move without breaking anything or disgracing herself by throwing up, she carefully opened her eyes, tilted her head and stared at the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Even the movie stars in the magazines she’d thumbed through at the store didn’t compare.

“Where am I? Can I go home now?”

The woman folder her arms, and gave her a sad smile—Carla’s mom said that sad smiles like this woman’s were usually fake and to watch out for what would happen next.

“I’m afraid your mother had an accident at work,” she said. A tear slid from the corner of her eye. “I’m so sorry but your mother didn’t make it.”

Pain so intense hit Carla’s stomach. A weight on her chest wouldn’t allow her to breathe. The room dimmed.

*****

Someone was patting her hand. She tried to shake it off but whoever it was just kept up the pat, pat, pat. A low buzzing accompanied it something that sounded like “wake up,” pat, “wake up,” pat…

Carla pulled her had away and opened her eyes. “Stop that.”

“Good, you’re awake. I’m Miss Naomi and I’m going to get you some food. You’ve had a shock.” The woman had been sitting on the edge of the bed, she stood and pulled Carla to her feet. “Come with me.”

“Not until you tell me where my little brother, Johnny, is.” Carla sat back on the bed and refused to move. The woman tried to pull her to her feet again. As her mother had told her, she could be stubborn. Until she got some answers, she wouldn’t be moving.

“George, Michael, come here please.”

Carla actually felt her eyes widen, the two men weren’t just big, there were huge both sported gleaming baldheads. They reminded her of perfectly round scoops of ice cream; one vanilla crème the other chocolate fudge. Her eyes dropped to their wide shoulders, and then their muscled waists where gun holsters rested on their hips.

If she were going to get away and help her brother, it looked like she had better cooperate for now. Carla pulled herself up and stood, when she wobbled Miss Naomi gripped her arm.

“Much better. George and Michael are here for you safety. You needn’t be afraid of them.”

But the look Miss Naomi gave Carla was clearly a warning. If she didn’t do what she was told, she would have to deal with the two men.

Carla now knew that nothing had happened to her mother or her brother. But then she’d known that when she decided to run when the car with the men had pulled up next to her.

She’d been kidnapped. Why? She would find out when this woman, who now reminded her of Cruella De Vil, felt it was time.

To be continued....

The next post on 5/30/16 will begin the first chapter when Carla is an adult. Don’t worry details of why she was kidnapped and what happened will be revealed.

First, we have to figure two things to continue. 1. Her new name. 2. What profession will she be when the story continues.
Here are your three questions:

1. Spencer Tate – Lawyer.
2. Georgia Daniels –Physician
3. Nadia Michaels –Special Agent.

Remember if you do not answer the questions, then I get to decide.
You have until 5/28/16 Midnight (MST) to answer the question. Comment on the blog. You can discuss the story and it's direction the the FB page.

Monday, May 16, 2016

Interactive story Prologue - It's going to be awesome!

Welcome to the Garden. Hurry and grab some goodies and a beverage, I’m very excited to get started. We’re going to start a project together. I’m going to write a story, but my readers are going to vote the way it goes. Confused?

Don’t be. I’m going to post a novel one blog post at a time. And it’s anyone’s guess how it ends because together we’re going to write it by the seat of our pants. There are two main types of authors. I’m sure there are very many variations in between. The first is a plotter; someone who plots out every chapter, some even every paragraph, along with story boards, etc. The second is a pantser: write by the seat of their pants. I'm a pantser. And this time not only am I going to write as I go, I’m going to give you choices to point me in the way you’d like to see the story go. Majority rules. If no one votes, it goes my way.

Just an FYI; if and when this story is published it will go through the usual critique partners, editor, and beta readers. In other words, this is a rough draft. But you have a chance to help me direct the story. Are you in? Let’s get started.

Title to be determined by you!

Prologue:

January 1995

Carla dug her jeans out of the hamper next to the bathroom. Dang her mom was supposed to have done the laundry, but as usual she was too busy. They were having a school program today, and she had told her mom that she wanted to wear her favorite jeans with her red blouse. Not only that, but her mother had to work and would be missing her program again.

She took a deep breath and shrugged, nothing ever changed in the Morgan household. She couldn’t really blame her mother. She worked multiple jobs just to keep her brother and herself fed and have clothes, and a place to live. Sometimes though Carla just wanted to have her mother see her in one performance, was that too much to ask? Like her friend’s mom.

With another sigh, Carla got ready for school making sure she had enough time to get her little brother ready. He depended on her, he was only seven, she was ten and it was her responsibility to get them both breakfast and to school. Their mom would come home on her lunch break and fix dinner and have it ready in the fridge for them to warm up when they got home. By then she would be at her second job. If only…

“Come on Johnny, we’re going to be late.”

Johnny stopped and folded him arms, long enough to glare at her before he said anything. “My legs are tired.”

Carla rolled her eyes, she’d been going slowly for him to keep up, even though she’d wanted to run. Patience, her mother always said was a virtue. But sometimes Johnny made it very hard to be patient. The fact was, her little brother hated school because he was the smallest kid in his class.

“Come on, I’ll walk slower.” She grabbed his hand and urged him along. “Did something happen at school yesterday?”

Silence met her question. She glanced down and noticed he was biting his bottom lip and staring straight ahead. At least he kept walking. She’d learned a long time ago, that if she pushed, Johnny would clam up, but if she let it go he’d tell her in his own time. He was embarrassed that kids made fun of him because of his size.

“I can’t say.”

That was something new, he always said, sometimes in a rush and at great lengths. She glanced up, the school was right around the corner. A chill ran up her spine, as if something was very wrong. All of a sudden she didn’t want to go to school either. But her program was today, and she’d been practicing for weeks. She was going to kick ass—if her mother heard her say that or even think it, she’d kick Carla’s. But her solo was good and she knew it.

She glanced around, everything looked normal. Kids playing on the playground before school. Looked like every other day. She was just letting her little brother spook her.

“Why can’t you say, Johnny?” She knew she shouldn’t push.

“They said not to tell you, or they’d hurt you.”

“Me?” Shock ran over her. How could a bully seven-year-old hurt her? “Are they in your class?”

“No, they’re older and they’ve been taking my lunch every day.”

“Oh, Johnny. No wonder you’re so hungry when you get home.” Carla squeezed her brother’s hand. “We’re going to go talk to the principal right now.”

He dug his heels in and tugged his hand from her grip. “No, they said they’d kill you and one of them had a knife, he showed me.”

“Not if we have adults get them first.”

“No! What would I do without you?”

“Johnny, you won’t ever have to find out. Come on.” She looked at the watch she got for her birthday, she would be late. She didn’t care, this was more important.

She had to drag her brother all the way to the principal’s office, but they finally made it. Unfortunately, they had to wait for him. After what seemed like hours to Carla, and must have seemed longer to Johnny, if all the squirming he was doing was any indication. The office secretary motioned to them.

“Carla, Johnny, the principal will see you now.” Mrs. Simonson led the two through to the principal’s office.

Once the two were settled Mr. Jones stared at the two for a few minutes. Finally she blurted, “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Well Miss Morgan, I didn’t say you did. I’ve just been waiting to hear what the problem is.”

“Oh.” Carla glanced at her brother and darn Johnny, he was trying not to laugh.

Carla saw she was already twenty minutes late, if the clock on the back wall was correct. She quickly explained about the bullies and what they’d been doing.

“So what are these boy’s names?” He asked Johnny.

“They didn’t tell me their names, sir. And I was afraid to ask, I just gave them my lunch.”

Carla patted her brother’s knee and winked at him. “Mr. Jones, could he tell you what they looked like? And maybe he could eat his lunch in his classroom until they’re caught?”

“I will talk to his teacher. I think that’s a good idea. Mr. Morgan, I’ll walk you to class today and if you see any of those boys quietly tell me. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you or your sister, deal?” He held his hand out to her brother and they shook.

Carla waited until the principal and her brother turned the corner before she headed in the other direction to her class. She had a note so she wouldn’t be in any trouble, and that was good.

*****

Carla had that special feeling in her tummy, the one she got when her mother praised her for being such a good help at home. She’d known she was going to do well on her solo, and she had. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother.

The bell had rung several minutes earlier, but her brother still wasn’t out of the building. Where could he be? She would wait two more minutes in their regular spot before she went to his classroom to check on him. The special feeling was fading and the second chill of the day skated over her scalp. Had those bad boys done something to Johnny?

She wouldn’t wait, she’d go check on him now. She turned and took a step in the opposite direction, when she heard her brother calling her name. Swinging around she saw him, smiling and waving his puny arms. His one and only friend, Ted, sauntered along with him. She let out a breath of relief.

“Where have you two been? I was worried.”

“Sorry,” Johnny muttered, but then grinned. “Ted has a new game he wants to show me, can I go to his house, please?"

She did have home work, and if he was at his friend's, he wouldn’t be interrupting. “Okay, but only until five, then you come home and I’ll warm up our dinner.”

“Thanks,” he said. He threw his arms around her for a hug. “You’re the best.”

Before she had a chance to ask how things went with the bullies he’d taken off. She shrugged, she was just spooking herself with all the bad vibes. Everything was fine.

She was almost home when she heard a car pull up behind her, and then slid to a stop next to her. The window slid down to reveal a brown haired stranger. She picked up her step and refused to look to the side. The chills were back. This was what her gut had been telling her all day. Her mother called it intuition.

Something bad was going to happen.

The car kept pace with her. She swallowed and started to run.

“Wait. Carla. It’s your mother.”

Her mother? She stopped and turned to face the side of the car. The man swung the door open, he held his hand out as if to show her he wasn’t meaning any harm.

“I’m so sorry, Carla. You are Carla Morgan?” She nodded and he continued. “Your mother gave us your address and told us what you looked like.”

“Why?”

Her body felt like a giant earthquake was rattling through it, her knees were shaking, and she was afraid she was going to pee her pants. Something was terribly wrong.

“Your mother has been hurt.”

“What?” She looked into the car.

The driver, he didn’t have a look of concern on his face. Her intuition warned her; these were bad men and whatever they wanted had nothing to do with her mother. She’d run. She took a deep breath and spun around and started to run. She hadn’t taken two steps when it felt like a ton of bricks fell on her head.

Her last thought was that she’d promised her brother he’d never have to find out what he’d do without her.

~~~

Here is the Interacting part. You get to pick what Genre (and title) this book should be.
Pick one of the following choices:

1. Romance -- Title: Flawed

2. Romantic suspense/Thriller -- Title: Never forgotten

3. Women’s Fiction -- Title: Lost but found

Leave a comment with your choice of genre, Thanks! To be counted, you must select your choice by midnight May 21, 2016. No more answers will be considered for this post. Answer the questions for the next post starting May 23, 2016.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Baring your soul is not for the faint of heart!

Welcome everyone. Just when I think it's going to be nice weather, it hails. I think we'll be okay in the Rose House. Help yourself to some goodies and a beverage and find a seat. I'm going to bore, er I mean interest you with my story. Yes, I did say something about Baring my soul. That's exactly what I'm going to do, hopefully it really will interest you and not bore you to tears.

Have you heard all those heart breaking stories about Orca Whales being separated from their calves and the trauma it causes? Now, hold that thought while I take you on a little journey.

I can't remember a time that I didn't know I was adopted, as did the entire town where I grew up. Granted this wasn't a huge town, back in the dark ages when I lived there. But it was always a treat trying to find friends. There were those who wouldn't play with me because "You're adopted. Your own parents didn't want you, why would I want to play with you!" Then there were those who liked me. Of course, I would always be willing to invite them over and if they wanted to do something and their parents said no, I would beg my mom to take us. I was always the one who threw parties, mostly because no one invited me--people would come and everyone enjoyed themselves and I would run myself ragged waiting on everyone so they had a good time.

I had other issues growing up, and I still have them. I always trying to please. Anywhere I work or any event I work on, I go the extra mile. If it's a big project I do try to delegate, but when people do not step up to the plate in what I think is a timely manner, I step in and do the job myself. Of course, everyone is always willing to let me.

I try, but I am always mediocre because I'm not confident enough to excel in anything or I'm afraid to let myself. I'm always second guessing myself, or telling myself, I can't do that so I don't try. Don't get me wrong, I do a wonderful job because I take great pride in my work. However, I always just run in place because, while my employers or the event planners appreciate all my hard work, they know I'm there, ready, and eager to help--why should they take advantage of my help?

Now let's talk relationships. I've never had a best friend. I've had some close friends, and friends I consider my best friend. But I'm not their best friend. I'm not the person they call when they have problems. Or when they want to do something fun with just a girl friend. Which is my fault, I don't let anyone really get close. It took me having three children before I let someone get close, and that was my children and then along came my second husband, and I let him in. So basically, my family are my best friends. And I have to be very careful that I don't smother them because I'm worried about losing them.

Yet whenever I email, text, or call someone, if they do not call me back; it's not because they're busy. It's not because they have family issues themselves. It's because I've done something to offend them. Or I've talked too much and they're tired of me. Or I complain too much. And the list goes on.

Then when I'm totally convinced I will never see that person again, because I must have done something, they call and they had a perfectly logically reason for not emailing, texting, or calling. And of course, they're totally clueless about the drama I've just gone through.

This is my life, I apologize for things when I've done nothing wrong. I ask permission to go to the store. I can't even make a decision about what to eat at a restaurant. On a good day I have the list of what I want down to four items when the waiter/waitress comes to take our order.

I always thought this was just my bad luck to have these dumb issues.

Then I found my birth mother and I started to read articles** about adoption and the feelings that crawled out and grabbed me this passed year. But as I read article after article, I found that I identified with almost all of them, maybe some in different ways, but I had found reasons why I always pushed people away. Why I never had the confidence to excel to the place I wanted to be.

It's called Emotional Trauma caused by the separation from my mother at birth. For nine months I learned her scent, her voice, I was soothed by the rhythm of her heart beat. I was familiar with her scent. Then in a blink of an eye she was gone.

If you think about the trauma and feel sad when you see an Orca calf separated from his/her mother, how do you feel about a baby being separated? Granted, I understand there is a need for adoption, I'm not talking about the fact that some mothers have no choice and love their child and adoption is the only way. I'm just saying the issues need to be addressed and also that I finally realize why and where my issues stem from.

Maybe now I can start to work on resolving my issues.

**a few of the articles: http://www.healingresources.info/article_axness2.htm
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/i-adopted-my-child-birth-what-do-you-mean-trauma-alex-stavros

I would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for listening.

Friday, April 29, 2016

It's going to be hard, but someone has to do it!

Welcome to the garden. Grab some goodies off the table and pour your favorite beverages. It's hopefully warming up. Find a spot and relax.

Today I have to tell you what I have to do the next week. It's grueling, but someone really has to do it. I know you will all feel sorry for me when you find out what it is.

Today, April 29, 2016, I am embarking on a journey. It involves a long air flight (2 hours) and then a long drive (2 hours) and we arrive at our first destination. Calistoga. Yes, the northern end of the Napa Valley. We're visiting my husband's sister and her husband. While we're there we'll be forced to visit various wineries, maybe golf, and heaven forbid my sister-in-law and me may go for massages.

After a day or two of this torture we're going on a side trip to Mendocino. Where of course, the torment will continue. Long walks along the beach, good food, and more wine.

And when we can no longer stand all this agony. We'll take off to my other sister-in-law's home in Forest Ranch, a quiet little town where we'll have the misery of peace and relaxation. Until that is, we'll have to pick ourselves up out of our easy chairs for Cinco-De-Mayo when we will be forced to journey to Chico and endure the Thursday Nite Market in the streets with music, etc.

Friday we'll have to suffer through a trip to the Sierra Nevada Brewery for a tour and lunch. On Saturday the family will be gathering for a BBQ and to view, on the big screen, the Kentucky Derby, almost the worst tribulation.

The worst thing of all though is... NO DAY JOB!

Somehow, someway, we will do our best to manage the next nine days. I will post some pictures on my Facebook page through out the torture.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Hold on to your hats, it's book signing week!

Welcome to the garden. Please help yourself to the appetizers, they're left over from the University of Utah Red and White game last Saturday. The ultimate tailgating contest was appetizers so you're in for a real treat! And of course we have Mimosas. Treat yourselves and settle in. If you do not know what goes into a book signing, your'e about to learn. You're going to help me with my check list for a book signing!

A couple of weeks ago my first middle grade/young adult book come out. History Mysteries. I blogged about it at the time. Check out that blog for details about the journey.

Now it's time for our book signing, is everything ready? Let's go over my
check list.
1. Set date and get venue. Check.
2. Press release. Six weeks prior to the event. Check (along with a reminder two weeks before.)
A. Make sure all the information is correct. I use a template and just change the information. All looks good and sent off. CHECK.
a. Too bad I left the last event address. Sigh.
3. Take pre-orders so you have enough books for the signing. Check
4. Order books to get here prior to the book signing. Order a few extra for those who forget to pre-order. Check
A. After it's too late to order, several people say... OH, I want a book. Sigh.
5. Set up sale (on Amazon) June 1, to June 8, 2016. Check.
6. Schedule blog post for the week. Doing now.
7. Send out news letter. Coming up next.
8. Books arrive.
A. Sort. Put stickies on all pre-ordered books.
9. Night before books signing:
A. Gather everything and pack in box.
a. Sorted books.
b. Table cloth for table.
c. Pens for signing.
d. Author stickers (signed by author).
e. Business cards.
f. Candy, or goodies for table.
10. Everything ready.
11. Night of the signing. Relax and have fun!

History Mysteries Signing
April 27, 2016
Nonna's Pizzeria 6 to 9 pm 8979 W 2700 S, Magna, Utah 84044
Available

Goodreads Book Giveaway

History Mysteries by Mary Martinez

History Mysteries

by Mary Martinez

Giveaway ends April 27, 2016.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter Giveaway

Monday, April 18, 2016

Entertain me, don't depress me!

Welcome to the Garden. How is everyone? I hope you're having a wonderful spring. Help yourselves to some goodies and a beverage and settle in for a chat about entertainment.

When I read a book, go to a movie, or even a play I want to be entertained. That does not mean depress me. I have season tickets, or had season tickets to one of the small local play houses, over the past two years the plays--though interesting--became progressively more depressing. The other night I went with my friends to Stupid Fucking Bird, and thought it was okay, it was depressing. Were there funny parts? Yes. Were there serious parts? Yes. But the depressing parts outweighed the others. The play ended with the characters telling what happened to them years later, Like one died at 61 when a drunk driver hit one, one died in nine months confused but content. Then one held a gun to his head "I shoot myself", then he lowered it "or not." Depressing.

Give me comedy. I want to laugh my ass off. I took two of my grandsons to see Deadpool... Yes I know Bad Nana but in my defense, it's a Marvel comic, I thought how bad can it be? And my son went with us. Of course, amidst our laughter my son and I were raising eyebrows at each other during several scenes. So yes, that was entertaining and raunchy and I loved it.

If you can't give me comedy, give me suspense. The kind that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Wondering what is going to come around the corner. The kind you're screaming at the character "Don't go there!" Because you know what's on the other side of the door, or down the stairs. Etc.

What it comes down to, if you want to entertain me, I want to see something that I have to wear a Depends because I know I'll be laughing so hard I'll pee my pants. Or I have to wear a diaper because I'll be so scared I may poop my pants.

That all being said... Give me a concert! If I can't find comedy or suspense music takes me away. I have my earbuds in so I can listen to my tunes all day. Music feeds my soul. I know I'm a dork.

Yes Entertain me. DO NOT depress me. Life is depressing enough as it is. Everyone has drama, sadness, frustrations, and depression in every day life. Maybe not every day but you get my drift. Movies, Books, and plays should take you away from all of your daily stress. Entertain you!

What entertains you?

Monday, April 11, 2016

Potty Talk

Welcome! Today, you'll be very glad we're in a garden. Please visit the goody table, fill your plate and pour yourself a beverage. Settle in, we're going to be discussing a smelly subject.

At my day job, I'm the floor manager. This means, among my regular job duties, I take care of all the complaints for the 2nd floor. I make sure the right people are informed. I normally do not mind being the floor manager, it gets me out of the cubicle and to meetings. I get to crack a whip during the Great Shack out--this is the day we have an Earthquake evacuation drill.

However, my least favorite duty of being the floor manager is the complaints about the women's bathroom. I receive them on a daily basis. The sink doesn't drain, water is leaking by the handle of the toilet, the hand towel dispenser is broke. There is a spill of unknown origin on the floor, and the list goes on. But the most common is: The bathroom stinks. WELL HELLO it's a fucking bathroom.

Come to find out, there is some chemical that the cleaning crew is supposed to be pouring down the drain every day to help keep the ammonia smell away. For awhile (two days) I had no complaints. Then to my dismay the other day, I received a complaint that the cleaning detergent they are using in the bathroom stinks, really?

I give up, I cannot please everyone. What is your least favorite thing to do at your job? Whether it is stay-at-home mom or a CEO, there has to be something you'd like to have go away!