Life by Chocolate: Robyn Alana Engel's Blog

Me and Father Time: Insecure Writer's Support Group

2012-03-06T23:14:00.000-08:00

Because writers might on occasion grapple with insecurities, Alex J. Cavanaugh founded an Insecure Writer’s Support Group for bloggers. We’re posting monthly, exposing our insecurities and/or offering support. Please check out Alex’s link to visit others’ posts. It’s a group of exceptional writers, authors and fun folks.

And now, kindly excuse or enjoy, or excuse and enjoy, my weirdness.

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I’d scheduled the appointment ages ago. Alas, my turn came. There was so much to say, but how would I say it? How does one talk with Father Time? I wondered if I should start with “Hey, what’s up?” Or perhaps a joke. The guy’s gotta have a sense of humor, right? [Look at Joan Rivers.] Before I planned my strategy, Father Time stepped out to greet me with a flimsy handshake.

He then walked me over to his office: a room the size of a football field. Enclosed by cream colored walls and turquoise shag carpet, it boasted multitudes of hot red La-Z-Boy Recliners.

Father Time looked young for his age, like a mix of George Burns in Oh God II and Charleton Heston in The Ten Commandments, but with Homer Simpson’s belly after a round of Krispy Kremes.

“Come on over,” he said. I heard the slapping of flip-flops against his heels, as he escorted me to a pair of recliners in one corner of the room.

The man extended his arm towards the smaller of the chairs. “Have a seat,” he offered.

I nervously eased into the chair, watching Father Time recline with a loud sigh. He then lifted his left wrist to his face to check the hour. It seemed he also wanted to impress me with his lustrous gold Rolex.

“Ebay find?” I asked.

He nodded proudly and pulled out a flask from his inside jacket pocket. The man took a swig. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, no, no thanks. Not now,” I responded with increased angst.

“So what brings you here?”

It seemed I’d need to work at getting him focused, so I slowly crossed my right leg over the left. Then I subtly shifted my hip to the side, while seductively running my fingertips through my hair. “Um I just, I wish you were on my side more like you are with the other writers. The ones who talk about taking it easy on themselves and ONLY writing one book per year because they’ve just published their eighth novel in the past 5 months and meanwhile I struggle with you to write anything. We’re talking like one comment on someone’s blog. And then after I’ve pressed publish I see a typo. And then, Father Time, then the dilemma really hits: should I correct myself and look stupid? Or should I not correct myself and look stupid? Or should I delete my comment altogether, re-write it, and look stupid? And by this time, it’s like –“

His roaring snores interrupt my rant.

“Well, I guess I’ll be going now,” I say cheerfully, checking the hour on my Hello Kitty Wal-Mart special Kid’s watch. Before I leave, though, I tiptoe over to grab the flask that’s now resting at the foot of Father Time’s chair. I gulp down the rest of its contents and dart off.

Love Notes from 1988

2012-03-05T19:32:00.002-08:00

In 1988, I landed my first professional gig as a Teacher's Assistant for 5th graders.Nora Sterry Elementary School in Los Angeles was, and still is, a reputable school. My mentor teacher, Mrs. Gomez, encouraged me to actively teach (though I was on the psychology, not teaching track), while insisting that the students show me respect. For a starter-job, I was very lucky!

Once, the kids goofed-off as I attempted to deliver a math lesson. None of us liked math, so I wasn't bothered by this. In her supportive manner, though, Mrs. Gomez instructed them to write me letters of apology.

I held onto a few of these love notes.

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This one is my absolute favorite; names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Dear Miss Engle, I am sorry for being rude at mathtime, but Kevin was threatning me. And tried to stab me with a pencil. Sincerely, Marco

I'm hoping Marco found his niche in the world of politics.

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Here's another, this one unsigned.

Mrs Engel Sory. You a good ticher for my.

Hm, I'm not fully confident I was a good "ticher." Sorry, sweet one. I wish I'd helped you more.
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I hope you have an old love note or two in storage. They're fun to revisit.

Sundays in My City: Peace and Randomness

2012-03-03T21:31:00.000-08:00

Unknown Mami hosts a sweet and scenic worldwide party here. I'm linking up today.

One year ago, I bid farewell to the San Francisco Bay Area and trekked to California's true North. You are now joining me in Chico, CA, a city that's as random as it is peaceful. Welcome!

Drivers rarely honk around here, except to offer cheer.

Message inscribed on back window: "Honk it's my B-day."

In case you haven't seen one before, here's an empty lot disguised as a Self Service Cash Oil Co.

Can you find the cat in this photo?

It looked comfy and blended in rather inconspicuously.

But kitty jumped down and sped off as soon as I snapped the photo.

Thank you for visiting. Have a wonderful Sunday and new week.

Retail Inspired Questions

2012-02-29T20:35:00.002-08:00

A recent shopping excursion left me with a few unanswered questions. Perhaps you have some answers. (?) If so, please share.

Question #1: Why is there always a man in the women's lingerie department? Further, this particular man does not appear to accompany any particular woman. Instead, he leans leisurely against a bra rack, positioned to NEVER leave. And it's not just any bra rack he leans against. It's the one in the center of the store with the pretty lacy bras on sale (the rack I'd peruse were he not leaning against it), as if it's his daily hangout spot. ??

Question #2: Why are the cheery sales clerks who graciously escort me to the dressing rooms, thereupon offering to answer any questions I may have, always named Amanda??

ANY questions, Amanda? My mind races with possibilities! Say Amanda, who's the dumbest of the Kardashians? Oh never mind, we all know that one. Tell me, Amanda, will I have sex again before I die? And which Republican Presidential hopeful is making the biggest *bleeeeeeep* of himself?

Question #3: Why is there no end to final sales??

It's a good thing I only shop for clothes once every 15 years. My brain can only take so much.

Catch Fire Blog Party!

2012-02-28T11:01:00.000-08:00

PLEASE SEE CASSA FIRE IMAGE TO THE RIGHT.
Blogger is being a booger with me again. This didn't post to your blog rolls on my first or twelfth attempts.
On a related note, is the new comments format driving anyone else bonkers?
I've removed the image to see if I have any better luck with this post.
Sorry, Alex.

Aside from a silly mock-of-Spock series that I wrote for the Saturday Centus a while back, I'd never dabbled in the world of sci-fi. But I met sci-fi guru Alex J. Cavanaugh about 1-1/2 years ago through a mutual blog contact. I'm now honored to call Alex a friend. Since we met, I've witnessed Alex's following triple, and have seen him transition from blogger to author of one (an Amazon Best Seller), then two books - with a third in the works.

      So, figuring I was missing out, I finally broke down and gave CassaStar a read (my first sci-fi book ever), and I'm hooked. It helps that I kinda have a thing for Byron, though Alex has warned me he isn't relationship material. [I suspect I have some competition from this Athee chick in CassaFire too. We'll see about that.]

      Alex's writing is clean, crisp, digestible, and, though he writes about out-of-this-world experiences, very human. That's what I appreciate most about his craft. And Alex. I'm excited to be part of this CatchFire blog party and recommend you catch fire with Alex and the rest of us. All of the important details follow.

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Alex's blog tour runs from February 27 through March 9. Anyone who comments on his blog posts during that time can win a special package from his publisher: copy of CassaFire and CassaStar, a large tote bag, and a mug.

CassaFire

by Alex J. Cavanaugh

CassaStar was just the beginning…

The Vindicarn War is a distant memory and Byron’s days of piloting Cosbolt fighters are over. He has kept the promise he made to his fallen mentor and friend - to probe space on an exploration vessel. Shuttle work is dull, but it’s a free and solitary existence. The senior officer is content with his life aboard the Rennather.

The detection of alien ruins sends the exploration ship to the distant planet of Tgren. If their scientists can decipher the language, they can unlock the secrets of this device. Is it a key to the Tgren’s civilization or a weapon of unimaginable power? Tensions mount as their new allies are suspicious of the Cassan’s technology and strange mental abilities.

To complicate matters, the Tgrens are showing signs of mental powers themselves; the strongest of which belongs to a pilot named Athee, a woman whose skills rival Byron’s unique abilities. Forced to train her mind and further develop her flying aptitude, he finds his patience strained. Add a reluctant friendship with a young scientist, and he feels invaded on every level. All Byron wanted was his privacy…

Available today!

Science fiction - space opera/adventure

Print ISBN 978-0-9827139-4-5, $15.95, 6x9 Trade paperback, 240 pages

EBook ISBN 978-0-9827139-6-9, $4.99, available in all formats

CassaFire is the sequel to Cavanaugh's first book, CassaStar, an Amazon Top Ten Best Seller:

…calls to mind the youthful focus of Robert Heinlein's early military sf, as well as the excitement of space opera epitomized by the many Star Wars novels. Fast-paced military action and a youthful protagonist make this a good choice for both young adult and adult fans of space wars.- Library Journal

You can visit the author's site at http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com/

Book trailer available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qa6VINRGtyE.

Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cassafire-alex-j-cavanaugh/1034742568

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/CassaFire-Alex-J-Cavanaugh/dp/0982713940/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1329417150&sr=1-1

Amazon Kindle - http://www.amazon.com/CassaFire-ebook/dp/B007A2TSNG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1329663355&sr=1-1

Losing it After 40: A Saturday Centus

2012-02-25T16:01:00.002-08:00

Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus sometimes (e.g., this week) challenges us to write a piece within 100 words. The prompt is bolded below. Consider joining the fun, if you haven't already. And please visit other centus posts here.

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Losing it After 40

The chair dominated the small room. I didn't see it until I walked into it, though. A peppy young Doctor giggled and patted the seat for me, indicating where to place my butt. She pushed a cold, binocular-like apparatus against my face.

"What letters do you see?" she asked.

Letters? Those fuzzy black spots? I pondered. Nervously, I made stuff up: "U, R, A, P, P,"..."Y, O, Y?"…“C, I, C!”

She shoved the apparatus aside and scrawled out a prescription. "You really need bifocals. It often happens after forty."

F, U, kid! I thought.

Hang on Little Tomato!

2012-02-22T21:30:00.001-08:00

I sense an added layer of sadness in the air, so I brought this one back. [Last posted in 10/10.]

photo by Robyn (not sure where or when)

Dear Life,

Sometimes you really suck. I mean, where's the give-and-take? Why must we always be holding on for you, dear life? Perhaps you could try holding on for us for a change. You haven't exactly been a walk in the park. Well, not unless we're talking about Central Park in the pouring rain at dusk on, say, a Monday, and I accidentally step in dog poop, and the dog owner is a creepy, smelly guy who asks me for money and a date.

As I was saying, or about to say in my typically tacky yet eloquent and sincerely loving fashion, a lot of people I care about are holding on for you these days. For everyone who could use a pick-me-up (who can't?), I hope this helps. It's one of my favorite songs, Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini.

Please hold on for 1.15 mins or so before the singing starts. It's worth it. You are worth it.

YouTube - Hang on Little Tomato

Belated Saturday Centus: Like You Didn't See This One Coming

2012-02-20T19:40:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

I'm sorry for my absence these past few days. I don't have a fun excuse, but I'm grateful to have a job. That is, I've been putting in a lot of extra hours. So, with Tuesday upon us, I now present you with my Saturday Centus.

This exercise is the brainchild of Jenny Matlock. Please check out other contributions here. We're typically allowed 100 words to play with. But this week, we can only use SIX words to write an autobiography or, in Jenny's terms, an autobriefagraphical.

How would you describe yourself/your life in only six words? Feel free to leave your responses in the comments section. Mine's below, though I sorta cheated with a seven word title.
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Like You Didn't See This One Coming

My life in six words: chocolate.

The Latest in Chocolate: Chocolate Cheddar Cheese

2012-02-16T05:42:00.000-08:00

This month, Trader Joe's introduced us to Chocolate Cheddar Cheese. Have any of you tried it? If so, what did you think? If not, I suggest you do. This combination of cheese and chocolate is excellent - rich and delicious. The checker recommended I try it on apples. I did, and that was okay. I've mainly enjoyed it alone (as I enjoy most things) or on wheat crackers. But I'm thinking it's a red wine, Ritz cracker cheese - optimally. At any rate, I highly recommend it.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Cheddar Cheese gets a 9+ from me.

Anti-Valentine's Day Contest Winners and 500 Thanks!!

2012-02-13T21:54:00.000-08:00

I'm happily overwhelmed by nearly 30 responses to Life by Chocolate's Anti-Valentine's Day Contest. You're the most creative, kindhearted, funny and punchy followers a blogger could have. I love you all! But I only picked two winners. These two made me laugh the loudest, due to their randomly silly, marginally edgy feel, with power-packed concluding lines. Just in case you're not already following them, I've provided links.

by Cal at his Canadiancaveofcoolness

Roses are flowers found in bushes with barbed branches.

  She  didn't break my heart by pushing me into that bush. 

Keeping the  chocolate did.

by Bossy Betty

Roses are fragile. 

So am I. 

Hurt me once 

and I'll punch in you the eye.

 CONGRATULATIONS, Cal and Betty! 
I'll be in touch about your sweet winnings.

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I'm awestruck to have reached this point. 500+ THANK-YOUS TO MY 500+ followers!

It's nice to feel so loved, especially on Valentine's Day - er, Chocolate Day.

Enjoy sweet things, special people and/or good chocolate today.

Know that I appreciate you!

Origins Blogfest and Penthouse Magazine Fame

2012-02-12T23:20:00.000-08:00

Today I'm participating in the Origins Blogfest, the brainchild of DL Hammons at Cruising Altitude. Co-sponsors include Alex J. Cavanaugh, Katie Mills aka Creepy Query Girl and Matthew MacNish at The QQQE. We're sharing the origins of our writing dreams.
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I've been writing ever since I could hold a crayon. Instead of boring you, though, I'll cut to a highlight: my Penthouse Magazine fame.

For my graduate research project, I explored Anti-Semitism on the UC Berkeley campus. In the process, I interviewed several professionals in Bay Area Jewish organizations and naively gave one of them a copy of my paper. In turn, and without my permission, she forwarded my work to Penthouse Magazine. Next thing I knew, I received a call from a Penthouse reporter for a phone interview.

Thus, I'm featured, no clothes (or picture) in Penthouse Magazine's 1994 Collector's Edition - the big 25th anniversary issue. I can't provide the direct link to the article, but you can purchase the magazine for as low as $5 through Amazon. Warning: copies have been "used," so handle with care.

“I’m um only buying this because I’m published in it,” I told the cashier the day it hit the shelves. She shot me a blank look that said, “I don’t give a crap. Just hand over your money and scram, lady.” But you didn't even ask for my ID, I thought, highly disappointed that (1) I looked my age and (2) I was committing blasphemy with such ease.

Upon flipping it open, I was shocked to find that my main quote was taken out of context. Further, the lettering was magnified to about 24 point font, with the quote centered in a humongous text box and my full name in boldly legible but smaller letters below. Still, I was excited. Everyone I knew was happy to buy a copy too, in support of my research. (The Journal of Jewish Communal Service published my work in the Summer of 1994, and I was interviewed by several other publications. Nobody expressed interest in those articles, though.)

Over the years, the tone and substance of my writing have shifted subtly. I’ve gone from investigating sociological phenomena that set the foundation for genocide to dating, sex, and celibacy. Around the time I began blogging (Spring of 2009), a couple of my pieces about dating were accepted for publication in Being Single Magazine. An incredibly exotic, dark, sexy woman's face graces the first page of my article, Single Livin', just above my name. I proudly announced, "If this doesn't help my dating life, nothing will." ...Nah, it didn't help.

It did, however, motivate me to keep writing about my miserable romantic life. It seems my dating turmoil brings others happiness and this makes me happy. The more I date and fail at romance, the more I spread laughter. It's a lose-win-win.

I'm currently struggling to write my first book, Woman on the Verge of Paradise. I don't know how to write a book, and I just hope to finish it someday. Moreover, I hope that, if I do finish it someday, I finish it before I die. And if it attracts a minuscule fraction of the Penthouse "readership," I'll deem myself successful. Especially if I'm still alive. Regardless, the journey's always interesting. Isn't it?

PS Tomorrow I'll post the winners of the Anti-Valentine's Day Chocolate Giveaway.

A Collage of Your Anti-Valentine's Day Offerings: The Hate I Love to Love

2012-02-10T20:51:00.000-08:00

Act now! You can still enter my Anti-Valentine's Day Chocolate Giveaway. I will accept offerings through the weekend. Winners will be announced on V-Day. In the meantime, here's a collection of YOUR wonderfully hilarious, appropriately hateful, kind of strange, somewhat poetic, outright silly, shockingly edgy, a little bit sweet, and hysterically naughty submissions. I've linked the names to their blogs, as relevant.

To all who entered, thank you for making me laugh so much! To all who read this, I hope you enjoy these as much as I have.

In random order, and with minor tweaking (sorry, I didn't change any words. I just combined lines and added punctuation.) to consolidate space, here they are:
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Ruth Roses are my least favorite flower. If you really gave a shit, you would never get them for me.

Keetha Broyles Roses are thorny. Chocolate is creamy. If I win this giveaway, It would be just dreamy.

Beth Roses are red. I’m feelin’ blue ’cause once again I got nothin’ from you. Yeah, V-Day’s commercial. Yeah, it’s crass. But when you forget I could kick your ass.

Dawn @Lighten Up! Roses - they suck. Violets do too. So I ain't buyin' any for you!

Meryl Roses are obnoxious, for Valentine's Day's toxic. Appeal to the unreal set of obligated shoppers who need stoppers to plug in their passion for this horrorday obsession!

Alex J.Cavanaugh Roses are... an expensive flower but not as priceless as you, Robyn!

Amanda Roses are red. I am obscene. Don't try to have sex with me. My vagina is REALLY mean.

Empty Nest Insider Roses are the easiest way for guys to show they care.
With one call they can save the day, while lying on the couch in their underwear.

YeamieWaffles Roses are grey. Violets are grey. I'm colourblind and loathe lover's day!

Tammy Roses are dead, alone in my bed, what's a gal to do?You come along, singing my song, overtaking all reason--you could tempt me to treason (so bitter sweet). You won't hear me pout over calorie count. My shining star, I love you darling: chocolate bar.

PatTillett Roses are red. Violets are purple. I love pancakes with maple surple...

Debra Lee Roses are red , Valentines suck. I need some chocolate to change my luck!

Gorilla Bananas Roses are soft. Scissors are hard. They're going to have fun with your Valentine card.

Pat Hatt Roses are for a sucker. You give to get a pucker. Falling for commercialized crap like some silly sap. Better off with a hooker, at least you can umm "you know" her.

BossyBetty Roses are fragile. So am I. Hurt me once and I'll punch in you the eye.

Ames Roses are red, violets are blue. I only want Chocolate kisses from you. Poems suck and so does Valentine’s day. Give me some Chocolate or go away! The End

JohnMcElveen Roses are red, Violets are Blue??? Really- Valentines Day, again and again, puts undue pressure, on both Sexes, I mean can you get edible undies, for all of your Exes?

Sarah Seriously, roses are thorny and chocolates are fattening, and I hate Februry 14th, too. But one look at my so called 'love' and I'm back to the dark and fattening obsession!!

Shockgrubz Roses are the noses, sniffing hardened heart from chest.

Thorny are the wounds, arise from delicate kisses of pain.

Deigned are my thoughts, Why me, Cupid?

MelissaBradley I hate roses. Roses are the Barbie Doll of flowers. Pretty, but empty, a floral bimbo with fake plastic charm that lasts, but an hour.

TeriVonn Roses look pretty strewn on a bed. Lovely to smell, soft to touch.

Damn thorns ...not so much.

Cal'sCanadian Cave of Coolness Roses are flowers found in bushes with barbed branches. She didn't break my heart by pushing me into that bush. Keeping the chocolate did.

Yvonne Roses are red. Violets are blue. Take me to bed and I'll devour you!

Ms.A Roses are red. Expensive and thorny. So if you receive them, he's probably ____ (?)

laughingmom Roses are stinky, They smell like old fart. I'd prefer a Twinkie, It's the way to my heart. Valentine's day ain't kinky - Cupid, keep your f*in dart!

Al Penwasser A Valentines Haiku
Roses Are

Love, bereft of scorn
Whether a dozen or more

Ouch! Damn frikkin' thorns!!!

and Valentine candy is swell be it chocolates or lemon sours
But, you dumped me for Leon. So, I'll just piss on your flowers.

Beth Zimmerman Roses are red and so are my eyes when I go near them it's so unwise.
The thorns they stab me and that's no fun.
But worse ... much worse
When my nose starts to run!

Anti-Valentine's Day Chocolate GIVEAWAY, Take 2

2012-02-07T20:25:00.000-08:00

The competition's fierce and friendly; see last blog post comments. Enter to win (or lose), while there's still time!

We can't ignore it any longer. Chocolate prices started skyrocketing on New Year's Day, and stores are full of mini "I LUV U" t-shirts sported by stuffed animals so hideous looking it's difficult to decipher if they're bears or armadillos. Clearly I have issues. I also hate February 14th. So I've decided to channel my V-Day venom into a noble cause: giving out chocolate to you, my dear readers.

To play, complete the thought, "Roses are..." in no more than 25 words (You don't need to count "roses are", so you actually have up to 27 words to play with). Leave your responses in the comments section here. You can write a poem, prose, haiku, limerick, or utter nonsense.

I will send sweet packages to the two people whose entries make me laugh the loudest, with a preference for anti-Valentine's Day sentiment. Winners will be announced by February 13th. Good luck and good chocolate.

Anti-Valentine's Day Chocolate GIVEAWAY!

2012-02-06T16:47:00.000-08:00

All you need to do is complete this statement, "Roses are..." in no more than 25 words (You don't need to count "roses are", so you actually have up to 27 words to play with). Leave your responses in the comments section. I'll keep this contest going for at least a few days, longer if there's good participation. You can write a poem, prose, haiku, limerick, or utter nonsense.

I will send sweet packages to the one or two people whose entries make me laugh the loudest, with a preference for anti-Valentine's Day sentiment.

My Jeremy and Me: A Saturday Centus

2012-02-04T16:30:00.000-08:00

Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus challenges us to write a piece within 100 words. This week's prompt, "two peas in a pod," was provided by Nonna at Tasty Tales.

I'm breaking the rules and posting a photo. I also thank Judie for posting my chocolate blog photo this week.

Please visit the groups' contributions here. Have a great weekend, everyone. Good luck with everything, Jenny.
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My Jeremy and Me

We're two peas in a pod, a pod with two peas.

I'm thinking of you when you're thinking of me.

Just now my phone rang as I wrote the word "me."

You chimed "Hi-Auntie-Robyn-'kay-bye" with such glee!

And when chocolate is near, nothing else do we see.

Two peas in a pod, my Jeremy and me.

Insecure Writer's Group and Judge Judy

2012-01-31T21:09:00.000-08:00

Heated tensions continue between my confident writer's voice and my insecure self. As you may recall, Dr. Phil sent us on a 26-day intensive sponsored by the Foundation for Insecure People Attached to Secure Writers’ Voices. Yet my voice and I remain at odds. In fact, my insecure self slapped my secure writer’s voice with a lawsuit. Appalled by such treatment, I solicited the help of the harshest of harsh officials: Judge Judy. Let’s watch…

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Judge Judy (Glaring at Insecure Robyn): I’ve read your claim and it appears to be a bunch of bologna! What exactly are you suing for? Or are you just here to waste my time?

Insecure Robyn (pointing at Robyn’s Secure Writer’s Voice): Um, I, sh, she broke my trust. She told a secret. She wasn't supposed to tell yet.

Judge Judy: What secret are you talking about?

Insecure Robyn: Well, uh, she told some people that I, we, I mean, she’s writing a book.

Judge Judy: You’ve gotta be kidding! Do you even have half a brain lady? That’s why you’re suing? What’s wrong with that?

RSWV (Robyn’s Secure Writer’s Voice) flips her hair back with a smarmy smirk.

Insecure Robyn (shaking): I, um, I’m just, I'm not a real writer. Real writers publish like three or nineteen books and I’ll be lucky to do one before I, like, die and stuff. And I don’t have money for publication and I’m not famous like Snooki. She’s published, you know? Girl can’t read and she’s published! Anyway, I do have 26 cents saved for publication, but I hear that’s not enough. And my book might be funny but it’s gonna be a little sad too. And they'll be disappointed because nobody likes sadness. (Robyn starts to cry. Sniffling and tearful): And some people –for example, really moronic men- might get mad at me when they see their really moronic personal ads in my book.

Judge Judy (Rolling her eyes): This is sounding more and more twisted. (Looking at RSWV): What would you like to say in your own defense?

RSWV: Well they posted their moronic ads and some of them even wanted to date her. Look at her! She points at Insecure Robyn, who blows her nose loudly into her sleeve. They deserve it! But they’re not exactly literate anyway, so what the *bleep* is she worried about?

Judge Judy: I can’t argue with that. (Glaring at Insecure Robyn): Your case has no merit! I offend people all the time. You think that’s a bad thing? Think again and check my show ratings while you’re at it sister. Now, you’ve wasted enough of my time! She stands up and exits the courtroom.

RWV flips her hair back again and walks off proudly.

Insecure Robyn hides her face in her mucous-filled sleeve and trudges behind her, dodging the cameras.

Post-script: True, I’ve started a book and have felt too insecure to make this semi-official announcement until now. I’m excited, though.

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PPS THANKS FOR TUNING IN. HAPPY WEDNESDAY AND FEBRUARY.

Reality Crap, Saturday Centus

2012-01-28T06:19:00.000-08:00

Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus challenges us to write a piece within 100 words. This week's prompt is bolded below and was provided by Nonna at Tasty Tales. Please visit the groups' offerings here. Have a safe and happy weekend devoid of reality crap.
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The town square drew unprecedented attention. Reporters arrived in droves. With tape recorders and scratch pads in hand, they fought their way to positions near the podium. Eager citizens hustled in, freezing to forge their feet strategically.

A string of formally suited, expressionless officials paraded into view and surrounded the microphone. “We know where all the bodies are buried,” declared the Chief Investigator. A wave of suspended tension washed over the scene.

“Oy, who needs this crap?” I said aloud and to myself. Grabbing the remote, I switched channels to an even more horrid show: Kourtney and Kim Take NYC.

On Why I Choose Celibacy Reason #167: Mr. Ribald's Epistle

2012-01-24T21:55:00.000-08:00

It’s less common but more annoying than morons who can’t spell “I”: people who typically use words most folks have never heard before. Yep, I dated this one too, a couple weeks ago.

He “favorited” me on a popular Internet dating site. His profile boasts a “ribald” and “trenchant” humor. [Both words are synonymous with “obscene.”] Still, I thought, “He’s not a moron. How refreshing.” I sent a brief, friendly “hello.” Note to self: dumb move.

Mr. Ribald responded: “What an unalloyed pleasure to receive your epistle.” Epistle? I didn’t know I had one to give. [Epistle means letter.] Slightly intrigued, I agreed to a phone chat. Epistle to self: dumber move.

The phone conversation was irritating, as I didn’t have a dictionary or the Internet within reach. Still, I thought it might be nice to have a walking Roget by my side. I thus agreed to what he enthusiastically termed a “meet and greet.” Epistle to self: dumbest move.

We met at T. Fusion, my favorite café, and he paid for my Chocolate Chai Tea Frost. Mr. Ribald is decent looking and outgoing, but his attempts to impress involved crude jokes.

I sat in bored irritation watching his lips move, sipping my Frost, until he finally delivered a punch-line with the word “balls.”

“That’s not funny,” I responded.

Mr. Ribald tried again, offering jokes with different creatures that walk into a bar.

“Nope, not funny.”… “Not funny either…” “I’m still not laughing.”

“Well you tell me a joke,” he insisted.

“I don’t do one-liners. It’s not my kind of humor. ”

Exasperated, he declared, “I think you don’t have a sense of humor, so this isn’t going to work. I wouldn’t have anything to say on our second date...I feel judged.” Mr. Ribald abruptly and dramatically stood up and began walking out. As the people at the next table subtly eyed me with compassion, I casually took time to consume the last of my Frost, found a napkin on the floor that needed discarding, and began strolling out behind him.

Mr. Ribald stopped and turned around to apologize. I’d apparently pushed his unalloyed ribald buttons or epistle-like trenchant nerves by failing to appreciate crude jokes.“It was entirely my fault,” he admitted.

We shook hands and wished each other well.

I’m left wondering if Mr. Ribald’s large, trenchant vocabulary serves as compensation for a small epistle he keeps hidden..? I’ll never know, and that’s a good thing. So is celibacy.

Reptiles and Me: Sundays in My City

2012-01-22T07:17:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Butte County in Northern California. These photos serve as my contribution to UnknownMami's fabulous series: Sundays in My City. Please visit her site here to enjoy a scenic world tour.

I didn't know dragons actually exist until I met this Bearded Dragon Lizard. He's so adorable (I know, my standards are pretty darn low. But he IS cute, right?), I wanted to take him home.

Photos taken at the Barry R. Kirshner Wildlife Foundation in Oroville, CA.

It felt comforting to have this snake wrapped around me, like nobody would mess with me. It's a real, live one too.

Our final stop: New Clairvaux Vineyards in Vina, CA.

Thanks for stopping by! Happy Sunday and new week.

The Latest in Chocolate: Chocolate Covered Potato Chips

2012-01-19T20:41:00.000-08:00

Introducing Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Covered Potato Chips, the ideal combo for all who love both sweet and savory snacks. The flavors of potato chip and chocolate are distinctly good in this one. I inhaled these babies like I hadn't eaten in minutes. But my ravenous frenzy wasn't without a glitch. These chips had a somewhat funky taste. I don't know how to describe it except to say they tasted plastic-y. Upon scrutiny of the label, I find they were processed with alkali. Alkali is, apparently, the salt of a metal. Doesn't sound good, right? But baking soda is an alkali. Alkali is commonly used with chocolate to reduce bitterness and create a uniform dark color. I can't help but wonder, though, if said alkali is what created a strange taste.

Has anyone tried these? What did you think? If you haven't but are willing to, please eat some and get back to me. I'd like others' opinions. It's probably my ever-picky taste buds. Then again, as I peruse the label, maybe it's the soy lecithin - which doesn't sound too appetizing either.

Still, I didn't get sick. I'm just a bit perplexed. These ARE good. Trader Joe's IS great, and the package boasts "no artificial colors, flavors, or preservatives." I can't ignore the funk, though, so I give Milk Chocolate Covered Potato Chips a 7.

Proof that Books are Eternal

2012-01-16T20:49:00.000-08:00

Some fear that the e-book will ultimately mark the demise of the actual, tangible, hard or soft covered book. 

As a social worker, I’ve been touched by many clients. One special lady proves the book will never go extinct…

Not long ago, I ran into a young woman I used to work with. This lady has struggled with significant mental health issues and cognitive impairment. As a toddler, she witnessed horrendous violence in her home, and she remembers the graphic details.  Yet she is one of the sweetest, most innocent people I’ve ever known – always doing favors for others, readily offering hugs, and trying to assure that everyone she knows is doing alright. 

The woman earns very little money but spends what she has on books. Sure enough, when I saw her, she was holding a book. She studied it page by page, took a red pen to the words – circling select letters, underlining words and sentences, perusing each page carefully and then dog-earring it before moving onto the next. She did this for an extended period of time and with a grin across her face. 

This might seem a common scenario. It’s not. What’s so striking in this case is that the young lady cannot read at all. She can’t identify letters, write her name or recite any of the alphabet. Her cognitive challenges are such that there is no way she’s learned these skills in the time since I’ve worked with her.

Yet she clearly felt important, competent and special - enjoying the feel of a book in her hands, studying the words and letters, and adding bright red ink to the pages. If this is not proof that books are eternal, nothing is!

On Why I Choose Celibacy Reasons #155-166

2012-01-13T20:47:00.000-08:00

Dear friends,

I’ll be having fun with houseguests this weekend and won’t be on-line much. So please enjoy these internet dating ad headlines. Not only do these guys utilize interesting marketing ploys, they offer me 12 more reasons for celibacy.

Reason #155: My password is .................

156. Not looking for Intimate incounters

157. my purpose in life requiers a good woman

158. have job and teeth

159. LOOKEN FOR SOMONE TO LOVE ME

160. Iam done with this sight!

161. Are you pondering what I'm pondering?

162. please keep arms inside the ride...

163. Let's Tell People We Met at Wal-Mart

164. I fallen and I can't get up maybe some

165. Cling free please

166. Knight looking for damsel to disdress!

Are you pondering what I'm pondering? That is, it just gets weirder, right? Then again, #163 might be onto (or on) something.

Be well and happy weekend!

The Weather Report

2012-01-10T15:08:00.000-08:00

This re-post from 12/10 is dedicated to my beloved nephew Jeremy, because I miss him.

Jeremy and Auntie Robyn, Summer 2010

We work hard to shield kids from all things bad. In the process, though, we rob them of opportunities to learn to cope with adversity.

I wish I'd been taught that life's unfair, instead of being hit by pain time and again, completely ill-prepared.

I wish I'd been given an umbrella, one that I could use in the sun or rain.

I wish I'd been raised like my nephew, Jeremy.

On the first morning of my visit, Jeremy entered the guest room to announce, with arms outstretched in explanatory fashion, "It's a sunny day! It's a sunny day!"

"You're right, sweetie." I colluded with his denial, as rain continued pounding on the window panes. "It's a sunny day, Jeremy."

"Yeah," he sighed, plopping down beside me on the air mattress. "Rain is too scary." He shook his head from side to side. "It's dark. I don't like it."

"It is scary," I confirmed, wrapping my arm around him. "But today is a sunny day for us."

With that, Jeremy popped up and began jumping wildly on the mattress like a yo-yo on crack. "I'm a rock star! I'm a rock star!" He shouted. "Oh yeah! I'm a rock star!"

Mind you, the kid's growing up in L.A. where everyone and their i-Pod is a rock star. In fact, all inanimate objects suffer from some degree of rock stardom. Soda cans are labeled "rock star," chewing gum, gaudy sunglasses, and glittery T-shirts. You name it - all rockstars. None is quite like my Jeremy, though.

So when I called him to say "Happy Hanukah" last night, Jeremy told me that he got a Toy Story mm-brella for Hanukah.

"You got a Toy Story umbrella? That's very special," I assured.

"Yep. I used it today. 'Cuz it's raining," he said with excitement.

With his umbrella, Jeremy now welcomes the rain.

I hung up longing for the childhood in which I was given an umbrella, one that I could use in the sun or rain. I'm glad Jeremy has one.

Dogs' Day Afternoon: Sundays in My City

2012-01-07T22:24:00.000-08:00

UnknownMami hosts a scenic world tour on Sundays. Enjoy great photographs from around the world by visiting here.

Our theme today is the canine. These sweet doggies were at the Butte Humane Society in Chico, CA when I visited last month. There were lots of folks there wanting to adopt, so I'm hopeful the dogs have been -or will soon be- moved to loving homes. (I was just dropping by and taking advantage of photo opps, not looking to adopt. I was tempted, though, and bet you are too. Am I right?)

Thank you for coming by. They also appreciated your visit.
Happy Sunday and new week!

Insecure Writer's Group with Dr. Phil!

2012-01-04T00:00:00.000-08:00

Because writers might on occasion grapple with insecurities, Alex J. Cavanaugh founded an Insecure Writer’s Support Group for bloggers. We’re posting monthly, exposing our insecurities and/or offering support. Please check out Alex’s link to visit others’ posts. It’s a huge group of exceptional writers, authors and fun folks. Some are all three.

Several of you have remarked that I don’t seem insecure. Thank you. That feedback helped me to realize there’s a huge difference between me and my writer’s voice. It’s a gap so great that only an expert could help us find common ground. So I asked Dr. Phil to facilitate an intervention. He agreed; he likes a challenge. Please enjoy today’s show.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RWV (Robyn’s Writer’s Voice): Welcome, Dr. Phil. Thanks for making the trip.

Dr. Phil: Sure thing. Now what seems to be the problem? I said, what seems to be the problem?

RWV (Pointing at a corner of the room): The problem? Look at her Dr. Phil! Robyn cowers in the corner. A stone-cold look of fear across her face, she slowly nibbles dark chocolate covered edamame. I do all the work. I’m the assertive, articulate, (winking and thumbing her neckline to expose a teaser of cleavage) sexy, edgy woman. She’s the wimpy, people-pleasing, shlumpy klutz. (Nudging Dr. Phil) It ain’t hard to figure out why she’s still single. Huh? I express all her emotions for her too, while she sits there getting fat munching ho-hos.

Robyn: It’s edamame, you dumb –

Dr. Phil (interrupting): Come closer to us and let’s talk, Robyn.

Robyn (meekly): W, w, why?

Dr. Phil: Because you can’t change what you don’t acknowledge. I said, you cannot change what you don’t acknowledge.

Robyn moves shyly to the middle of the stage, plopping down an arm’s distance from Dr. Phil and her Writer’s Voice.

Dr. Phil: That’s better. Now, what is it you’re so scared of?

Robyn: I, well, it’s, I don’t know. I’m shy. I don’t think I have, uh, anything important to say so I get quiet when I to start to (whispering) express myself in real life. I leave it all to her.

Dr. Phil: Tell ya what. I’ve hired the experts of The Insecure People Attached to Secure Writers’ Voices Foundation for a 26-day intensive in Fortworth, Texas. These folks are the best of the best. But it’s not gonna be easy. You’re gonna have to work real hard to come to a meeting of the minds. Now are you willing to do this? I said, are you willing to do this work?

RWV: That depends, will there be any single men there who aren’t idiots, freaks or weirdoes?

Robyn to RWV: Shh, I can’t believe you said that. to Dr. Phil: Uh, will there be chocolate?

Dr. Phil: Okay, listen; I’ve hired the best of the best. I can’t promise men or chocolate, but there’s a private jet waiting just outside the stage doors to take you there.

RWV: A pilot? I bet he’s cute! She skips off fingering her mile-high frequent flyer club card.

Robyn strolls behind, nervously, clinging to her container of edamame.

Dr. Phil: We’ll follow up with these two some other time. Ya’all have a great evening!

Dr. Phil walks up to his wife, Robin, and escorts her off-stage. There, he starts to unbutton her blouse, but she stops him when she notices the camera’s still rolling.

-Commercial break-

For Old Time's Sake: A Saturday Centus

2011-12-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus challenges us to write a piece within 100 words. This week's prompt is bolded below. Please visit other offerings here, and have a safe and happy New Year's 2012!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FOR OLD TIME'S SAKE

Resolution schmezolution

A year defined by destitution

Across the globe we witnessed strife

When will we learn to cherish life?

The i’s not capped with Pod or Pad

And dieting just drives us mad

We reach for more to sate the greed

When food and shelter’s all we need

So let’s be glad the year is gone

While we strive to mouth ye Auld Lang song

A new start is what the world needs

There’s just one thing I must concede:

I make no lists, for old time’s sake

And won’t scale down cocoa intake!

Thanks to all my sweet, funny, loyal followers of Life by Chocolate.

HAVE A SAFE, WARM NEW YEAR’S AND A PEACEFUL 2012!

On Why I Choose Celibacy, Reasons #150-54: Goldmimes and Anuses

2011-12-29T18:25:00.000-08:00

Following a brief transgression into non-celibacy (see last two Paradise posts for the story, if you like), I’m back as a Born Again Celibate with reasons #150-154 for this state of existence. Why? The options are only getting scarier, my friends. Take a look at the following current internet dating ad blurbs (with my comments in italics)...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

REASON #150: Hi I'm a very hard worker can do some repairs arounds I like to camp and goldmime I’ve gotta tell ya, hon, I’m picturing a goldmime and it ain’t pretty. I like to go up in the mountains and just drive and look at the beatiful land I go caving at least once or twice a year some ppl think I'm crazy but I've been careful.

Yeah, look out for those quiet but deadly goldmimes that like hanging out arounds the caves.

REASON #151: Hi, I am a nice and young guy to get alone with. Alone with what? I work, go to school, and workout six days a week. I am single, have my own car, and my own place. I am looking for someone to hang out with tonight and maybe cuddle. It would be a cold night.

A cold night cuddling with you? Sweetie it’s like this: I’ve had worse offers. I just can’t think of any right now. Oh wait. Here’s one. He wants to meet me:

REASON #152: Politically, I am a Moderate, so I'm flexible in that area. However, religiously I am a Nazarite. Say what? This term sounds rather anti-Jewish. Upon a bit of research, I’m even more confused on this Nazarite thing you do, but I’ll be fair and let you continue…As a result, if you don't believe in GOD, I don't want you. Hm, um, okay, this could be offensive but I’ll be fair and let you speak your mindlessness…If you believe in Jesus, it shows me you have been too busy to research the origins, and validity of your religion. Oh no you didn’t say that. However, if you do believe in The LORD, and you have done your homework, when it comes to the pagan solar deity concocted by Rome, I admire/applaud you. Christ never existed, he is merely a symbol of the age of Pisces. Of course, Mary is Virgo, and the apostles are constellations. The Mark of the beast is a cross.(Daniel 7:25) Don't get me wrong, it's okay if you believe in walking on water, rising from the dead, feeding multitudes with two loaves of bread, etc. It's also okay, if you don't know his story was plagiarized from Mithra, Dionysus, Horus, Krishna, and many others. What's not okay, is if we are about to run out of fuel, in the middle of Nevada, and I am praying to ELOHIM, and you are praying to Je-Zeus. They threw Jonah overboard for a reason. lol. A relationship is two people, with our Heavenly Father included. Without him, we are Godless apes. With him, we just might be...an us, and a we.

I think it’s only fair to say that with or without your Diety, you are anus and I don’t support or understand any of the crap you just spewed.

REASON #154: I would lve to meet new people. O'm a plastic Sugeon, but i'm not superficial. I'm big hearted. I'm not opposed to dating and seeing what happens. I think woman are beautiful in all shapes and sizes. I tend to date older woman, but that does not mean a younger one couldn't be mature and a good fit. Please say hi. I travel a lot to do surgeries pro-bono in other states maybe we could hang out. Say hi soon

No’ce try to pass yourself off as a do’mctor, dude.

REASON #155: this sh*t is amusing! I can't argue with your headline but I won't date you.

The Latest in Chocolate: Chocolate Goldfish Grahams

2011-12-27T17:36:00.000-08:00

It's likely a first for Pepperidge Farms: a product fail. They took the orange, salty and addicting goldfish and turned 'em into Grahams, chocolate goldfish. Since I love graham crackers and we know how I feel about chocolate, I happily purchased this little carton for a mere dollar. Don't do it, folks, not for New Year's, not ever. Even your kids won't be fooled. These brown fish don't taste chocolaty or graham-crackery or salty or sweet. They don't really taste like anything in particular.

They're not horrible, and I did finish the whole thing (I had to keep testing my taste buds to make sure I wasn't being overly harsh), but I'm afraid the Farms failed with this one. Chocolate Goldfish Grahams just aren't good.

So stick with the tried-and-true Pepperidge Farms Goldfish if you're into salty snacks; the cookies, if you've got a sweet tooth. Just don't fish for these.

On a scale of 1-10, I give Pepperidge Farms' Grahams a 3.

Christmastime Poem: No Matter What

2011-12-24T15:16:00.000-08:00

No Matter What

Whatever the season

No matter the reason

May you taste of the sweet

And sense the complete

May you grow through life's plight

Hold out for what's right

Keep reaching for more

Not want at the store

Whatever the season

No matter the reason

May you love beyond fears

And laugh past your tears

May you like what you see

And hear harmony

Whatever the season

No matter the reason

And all the year through

Life's blessings to you.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Happy Chanukah!

2011-12-20T15:53:00.000-08:00

Get your dreidles* ready. Chanukah's about to start. The word, "Hanukah/Hannukah/Chanukah...", Hebrew for dedication, can be spelled over a dozen different ways. So don't worry about misspelling it. Just enjoy the food and fun.

Tonight sparks our eight day celebration of the Maccabees' (small Jewish army's) victory over the evil Antiochus (Assyrian/Greek ruler) in days of 'ole We're talking really 'ole, nearly 200 years before Jesus' birth.

At the battle's end, the Maccabees entered the Holy Temple that had been savagely destroyed. One tiny bit of oil remained, and this drop miraculously provided sufficient light for the Maccabees to rebuild and rededicate the Temple.

In a world where intolerance and oppression thrive, we are wholeheartedly grateful for our freedom to worship -or not worship- as we choose. The Jewish people pray and work towards tikkun olam, a healed world, one at peace. On Hanukah, as during many other Jewish holidays, we rededicate ourselves to this cause.

Of course, no Jewish holiday is without yummy eats. Chanukah involves deep-frying; we use lots of that holy oily stuff called oil. To get a taste of Chanukah, I highly recommend picking up a Potato Pancake/Latke Mix at your local supermarket. You can find these in the Ethnic Foods section. Manischewitz and Streit's are two brands, but it's all good. Just add water and eggs, then get cooking. Mix in a few onion shards, and they'll look homemade. I like to douse mine in the sour cream-apple sauce combination. Of course, I've even enjoyed chocolate chip latkes, but that's an acquired taste.

Whatever your practice, may you appreciate life's miracles this holiday season and in the new year.

HAPPY CHANUKAH to those joining the festivities!
_____
*Dreidles are the spinning tops we play with on Chanukah. Each side has a Hebrew letter, and each letter means something different (e.g., "Win half the pot" or "Lose one"). Play with pennies or, better yet, candy.