Police Comin'

I've been quiet for three days now (probably a record for me). Stephen wants words. OK, Stephen. I love this sound. Video is a little painful to watch (hard to see Eric in a suit and tie. OUCH!).


Song is 'Joliet Bound' - Joliet is the Illinois State Pen. For about two years, I lived just down the road. The 'Big House' was just off a two lane country road. 
For about two miles either side of the 'jailhouse', there were signs along the road warning, 'Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers'. Ya Think? Did they also think someone who just broke out, was going to hang around on that country road to bum a ride. OK, this was Illinois. (Whatever you do, DO NOT pronounce that S - it drives me crazy!)

HERE I AM

DREAMIN'

GHOST TOWNS

Rude, Crude, Bad Food Dude and Adagios

First things first. Yesterday I posted this quote:


        "Two dead ends and you've still got to choose."


Pretty cool, right? Well it should have looked like this:


        "Two dead ends and you've still got to choose."
                                              Tom Waits - "Funmblin' with the Blues"




Least anyone thing I was trying to plagiarize an incredible line like that. My apologies to Tom and anyone else I may have offended. I had the weekend from hell and frankly that line pretty much summed it up. I have got to get better at...being better.


Something else I did last night. I was on my way to the movies when a friend called with an invitation to go out to dinner. When I told him tonight was out, he suggested Wednesday and the one restaurant on the island I really dislike. I hesitated so he asked,"do you like (insert name of restaurant here)". Without a second thought I say, "No, I hate that place, let's go (insert name of restaurant I like better,here)." 


OK, you can have at me. Was that rude? Do I owe him an apology? Should I suck it up and graciously accept a dinner invitation, no matter the restaurant? I wasn't over my 'bad day blues' at the time and someone told me I was incredibly crude and rude. Unfortunately, on Monday, January 23, that shoe fit. I'll take and follow through with whatever advice you guys give.


On to more of my eclectic music. Yesterday, it was the Allman Brothers. While they are not necessarily my one favorites, that particular song pretty much summed up my mood.


Today, I'm gonna post a piece of music I used for a final project in a Music Appreciation Class I took on one of my many forays into the mysteries of college life. (I've been to universities all over the place. I probably have enough credits for three degrees, but I fail to meet the graduation requirements in any particular discipline. Ah well, who knows, maybe one day.) Anyway...I believe this particular time it was Colorado Mountain College. My final project was an incredible visual show of the ranch I lived on at the time, set to this piece of music. I wish I could show you the visuals, but like so much of my life, that's packed up in a storage locker in Idaho.


Enjoy

I got an A on the Project. Adagios are supposed to work on the alpha waves in your brain and be great contemplative music. 

       "Two dead ends and you've still got to choose."


Some days your the steam roller. Some days your the pavement.

BRIGHT, SHINY, GLITTERY THOUGHTS

I woke up this morning thinking I needed to post something upbeat on my blog today after than downer about the oil refinery. So, I'm thinking all these bright shiny, glittery little thoughts and I turned my computer on. That's when I remembered.


Late last night, well more like early this morning, my time. Blogger would not let me post a comment on a blog I follow. But, I thought - be optimistic.


OH YEAH!


1. That blog I couldn't post a comment on last night wouldn't even load this morning.


2. Several other blogs would not let me comment.


3.  A few that would let me comment, required that I re-enter the comment twice before it would accept it.


4.  When I got to my dash board to see who had posted something new today, blogger wiped it clean and tells me I'm following no blogs.YIPPEE!


THEN,


I couldn't get my gmail account to open. When it did they wanted me to sign in. OK, I did that. Then, they tell me that they shut my gmail account down because of suspicious activity. ARE YOU KIDDING ME - GOOGLE? I thought your motto is ' We Will Do No Evil'. OK. So now they tell me go to this verification page to get my gmail account up and running. On the verification page, they want your country - oh, I can see it coming - it's a drop down menu. My country is never on those. I drop down. HOLY CRAP, my country is there. I enter it. Next, they want a phone number so they can send me a code via text to enter to get my gmail account back. Against my better judgement I enter my local number and click GO. 


Do you know what Google had the nerve to come back and tell me? "I'm sorry, account verification is not available in your country."  BUT, there is no other way to open this effin' account back up. Remember those bright, shiny, glittery thoughts back at the beginning. I can't even begin to tell you what they have become.


Anyway...google isn't as smart as they think. I went back to the account verification page and started over. This time I LIED.( I HATE LYING - GOOGLE). I entered United States for my country and gave them my cell number with the Idaho area code (I kept a US cell number, so people could call me from the States for free). I got the account back opened, dubious as it's continued operation may be.


Is this just me? Do I have like 'subversive' tattooed on my butt or something? What suspicious activity are they seeing on my account. Or are they telling me that someone is trying to 'hack' into my boring life? JEEZ!


Glad to get that off my chest.


On a happier note...I now have 100 followers (wait until blogger figures that out. I can't wait to see what they do with that information). I'm really not a headhunter, if I was I probably wouldn't print this post. Regardless, it makes me feel good that 100 people stopped here once and clicked on that follow button. Thank you.


Also, I finished my short story for the GQ Short Story Contest. Not only did I finish it, but I did the 'slash and burn' thing and got it down to 999 words. (It has to be 1000 or less.) This is no easy task for the Queen of Verbosity. The story itself was hard. The topic - cities. I might have been born and raised in Chicago, but I write 'country' much better, But I cranked up the 'blues' (something new-I'm a sucker for a wailin' guitar) and this story came pouring out. Thank you, Stephen.


Anyway...it's done. Of course,I'll worry over it for a few days and go back and edit some more, beef up every verb and delete every stinkin' ly word and slash every single adverb.(You get the idea) Is anybody else this crazy/obsessive/neurotic? Man, I hope so.


Here's a song. More of my eclectic taste. A friend of mine introduced me to this group and this song after he buried his son. I think this song makes his wife nuts, but I like it. This is for you Bob. I think of Michael all the time.


Enjoy...

Remember, I live where 'thinking is optional'.

January 19,2012 ~ Not My Usual 'STUFF'

I try. I try really hard to keep my cool and NOT vent some of my political views and dissatisfaction here in this space. My intention with this blog was to make friends and promote my writing. Today there is something I have to talk about.

Yesterday, my little island, and the country it comprises along with two even smaller islands, were dealt an economic blow that they may never recover from. I live on the island of St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands.  We are a U.S. Territory. Kind of like a colony. The U.S. government pushes us around, but we have no vote or say in what happens in the States or what the Feds do to us. I’m a U.S. citizen. The U.S. issues my passport, but I will not be allowed to vote in YOUR Presidential election. When it’s convenient for the U.S. to claim us, they do. Otherwise, we’re kind of like the poor relations nobody wants to talk about. This isn’t the point of this post, just a little background.

The island of St. Croix is the home to Hovensa. Hovensa operates the second largest oil refinery in the U.S. (this is one of the times when the U.S. likes to claim us, so they can say this), the third largest oil refinery in the world.  Hovensa is a joint venture between Hess Oil, Big Oil in the U.S. and Petroleos de Venezuela S.A., a national company headed by the Venezuelan government or none other than Hugo Chavez. Are you surprised? Didn’t you think that Uncle Hugo (he’s referred to like that down here) was not necessarily a friend of the U.S.?

Anyway…maybe you have heard or maybe not, but Hugo has been up to one of his old tricks; saber rattling at the U.S. He’s signed contracts to ship much of his oil to China. He’s trying to build stronger alliances with other (Arab) OPEC Countries and recently the Pres. of Iran visited and they joked about nuclear weapons for Venezuela (isn’t that a sobering thought).

Yesterday, Hess Oil announced to the government of the U.S. Virgin Islands that they will close Hovensa in thirty days (mid-February) because it is losing money and is not ‘economically feasible to be kept functioning’. Interesting that the oil business, particularly Big Oil is losing money. What are you paying at the pump?

Regardless, of all the political rhetoric, this will economically devastate our country and more particularly our island. The Governor and other politicians are already making all kinds of promises and predictions but, unfortunately, these are promises and predictions they couldn’t keep even if they were honest and above board. Like most governments in the Caribbean they take political corruption seriously and to places you cannot even imagine.

This probably won’t even make for a small byline in newspapers in the States or other countries,  but for us in the Caribbean it is a disaster of astronomical proportions. The Caribbean, like Africa, is a place where nobody really cares what happens. Certainly, there’s more behind this than an oil refinery not being economically feasible. The citizens of the U.S. might want to take note, this type of thing could possibly be a foreshadow of things to come in the ’boom’ states of oil exploration and development. It would be in everyone’s best interests to not be caught ‘asleep at the wheel’.

My income does not come directly from Hovensa, but something this big, leaving our economy, will affect us all. 

Just thought you might want to know.

Hell May be Freezing Over

Still looking for something clever to blog about. I'm just not feeling it. Actually, I'm feeling kind of stupid. Most of that - my own problem, but some folks have been kind enough to point out just how stupid I can be. Oh, well, who am I to argue with the truth. (or my trust issues)


I'm still wrestling with my handy dandy Christmas present. That little video camera. Let me tell you what happened the day of the parade. The camera was up for grabs and everybody I was with got a turn. There were so many people at the parade that you had to constantly shuffle around for a hole in the crowd to take pictures. Anyway...the video clips are a total of 40 short (some less than30 seconds)shots depicting the parade. My computer says I have a program to combine these into one MOVEE- yeah right. It's probably easy if you are not technologically challenged. See more stupid.


I'll keep at it and post that MOVEE someday. Maybe, I'll cheat and get some help.


It's cold here. 68 degrees. Those of you in the states, who live in the snow belt are probably groaning, but for the Tropics that's cold. Hell may be freezing over. I know I am. I don't think I'll be working out in the pool today.


I try to work out in the pool five days a week. Helps me keep my tan, keeps me moving, I write a lot of scenes in my head and during the winter I get my daily dose of annoyance. YES, more stupid.


For 8 months of the year I have that pool at the condo complex to myself. From January to April the OWNERS (the snow birds who own these condos) come on down. They are a royal pain. They act like they own the place. (actually, they do, but come on I live here year round. I stay when 'da hurricane come', they don't). They all know I'm a tenant, which makes me a kind of second class citizen.


Anyway...yesterday, when I'm finishing up my workout at the side of the pool, this guy comes over and decides to make conversation with me. Are you kidding me? His 'pick-up' lines were from the dark ages. It took me a couple of minutes to figure out what was going on. (yeah, more stupid). On top of everything else I realized I need a new workout suit. Daily trips to the pool, lots of sun and extreme amounts of chlorine, add in a weekly trip to the beach and all that sand and salt water, it takes a toll. So, as this creepy guy is standing on the deck, looking down at me in the water, making the most inane comments, I look down and notice (much to my horror) that my suit is so stretched out you can you see right down into it (and all of me). Oh, please shoot me. I got out of there pretty quickly.


A big APOLOGY for not commenting back to all of you who commented on last week's post. I was too busy rolling around the floor laughing. It seems I went from being in my late twenties, to receiving condolences that you would give to your granny on her eightieth birthday. Don't worry no offense taken. I DO believe that age is only a number. On the subject of aging, I tell people to consider the alternative. I have. Not just considered it, I was forced to face it. It ain't pretty no matter how young or old you rare. I've been thinking I need to blog about that. Maybe it would help someone else, but you know me TRUST ISSUES. I'll have to think on that one a little longer. It is intensely personal.


I will tell you I wrecked a car about four years ago, in a roll over accident that I should not have walked away from. Always wear your seat belt. I was driving a Ford Explorer (imagine that) on an icy road, lost control, car spun around gaining velocity, left the road and rolled end over end three times. Fortunately, it happens so fast, you don't really know what's going on. Vehicle ended up on it's side, I'm hanging in the seat belt, but the radio was still blaring rock music. This was out in the middle of nowhere, someone saw my truck off in the field and came to rescue me. When I was trying to get out of it, they told me to stand on the rear view mirror. I told this guy I was afraid I would break it. That's when he informed me, the truck was already totaled. Oh well.Always consider the alternative and always wear your seat belt(especially if I'm driving). That's not really my 'let's face death' story, but close enough for now. 


When I said I was a DJ, someone suggested I post an audio clip of my voice. More rolling around on the floor laughing. Someone once told me that I like nothing better than the sound of my own voice. I use that today as a euphemism, for the fact that I can't shut up, but the truth is I never met a DJ, myself included, who really did. Sorry to disappoint you, but no audio clips of me. Consider yourself spared.


FINALLY, someone else asked why I wasn't posting music anymore. My fav's. I don't know probably, I got self-conscious (imagine that) about my eclectic tastes. Anyway, in my blog wandering this morning, I ended up a blog that asked the question 'what would Jim Morrison be like today, if he had lived?' Interesting thought. I would like to see that myself. Anyway...here's a Doors favorite of mine that is appropriate for this cold rainy day in Paradise.

Remember 'thinking is optional' as this post, I'm sure proves.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Will you believe me if I say I'm really trying to stay with my blogging schedule? It's true. I do a lot of bad things, but I really don't lie.


Here's another fact about me. I'm a licensed DJ. Like work at the radio station kind, not the party kind. I haven't done that kind of work for a while now, but the license is for life unless the FCC comes after you. I hate to admit it, but I do love the sound of my voice. I bet your not surprised.


I've been in internet hell for a few days. The 'severs' down here are interesting. And ya know that 'not mah job mon', thing. It's true. Ah paradise!


Yesterday was double cruise ship day,so I worked for my friend Iotha. It was an interesting and aggravating day, but Iotha made out well.


This weekend I have a 'public speaking gig'. Imagine me, in front of an open mike. That should make your weekend jollly. I gotta leave you with that thought.


One other thing. Someone else mentioned this type of thing on their blog space this morning, and it reminded me. To any of you who harbor the delusion than I'm young, really young. I love you forever! Obviously you live somewhere where thinking is optional. I'll meet you there later.


BUT, enough about me already. I'll be back with something much more interesting next week.

Tuesday's Post on Wednesday 'or' Will I Ever Get it Together?

I'm working on the video from Carnivale, but it's taking longer than anticipated. (Technologically challenged)


Here's a fact about me to tide you over. When I lived in the States I used to raise American Quarter Horses. I still own two horses back in the States.They are staying with friends. Some days I really miss those ponies.


Here's a video I find inspirational. (Not me,my horse, or anybody I know. It is an American Quarter Horse.) I like the song too. Everybody should learn to live like they are dying. It makes the livin' that much more beautiful. Even if you don't like 'country music' listen to the words.

I'm going to have to face selling these last two, one of these days. Probably sooner than later.


Today, I own three pair of flip-flops.


Are you surprised? (not about the flip-flops about the horses) Not a side of me that slips out too often.


I finished the first edit of 'Ghost Story'. Editing is grueling. I bet you didn't already know that.


Today, I'm glad 'thinking is optional.

HEAVEN and HELL

This past week I had three separate encounters with, what for me were, foundation rattling realizations. The first two came in the form of blog posts by others.

FIRST up was www.themisadventuresincandyland.blogspot.com I was blown away by this and probably not for the same reasons you were. I was blown away by her courage. I was absolutely devastated by the fact that she publicly turned to those people she loves and trusts (but, probably never met, in person) for help and support. They in turn, turned to those they love and support and so on and soon. To me this was amazing. Why? Because I been there and I didn’t do that. Trust issues. I was actually homeless for a few days with my daughter, because I could not reach out. I’m the blackest cynic. My natural tendency is not to trust the human race. BUT, I’m holding out hope. (Yeah, a cynic with hope…Go figure) I’m hoping that this week, Candy is gonna check that PalPal Account and there will be over a million dollars in it. Heck, that’s only a million people giving a dollar each. You probably got a dollar in the cushions of your couch. Are there a million of you out there? Personally, this is how I think it should work, not us depending on the government to back us up.

SECOND up was www.greenmonkeytales.blogspot.com Look for the post titled CHAOS. When I started reading this post I was confused. What in the heck is she talking about and then it hit me. Holy crap. Cancer. OK, I been there too and I did not do that either. Nope, not me. I had to best strong for everyone around me, who by the way, were just as sure as I was that I was going to die. It took me realizing that, yeah, I was going to die, just like everybody else, maybe it would be sooner than I thought or maybe not. Anyway...that’s not the point here. The point is. This is another courageous lady, reaching out looking for the light at a really dark time.

THIRD was me spewing my real ugly, politically un-correct, ex-patriot stuff all over somebody else. I try real hard to keep that locked up somewhere safe (as if there was such a place). Branding, you know. It’s important not to look like too much of a nut. What I’m wondering is, am I lying? If you don’t see the ugly, un-pc, ex-pat stuff, am I not being honest? But, then if you did see that you probably wouldn’t like me very much. Do I just want to be liked? Well, yeah, but not at the expense of honesty. Anyway…don’t worry I’m not about to start spewing. I put that back in the box. It’s really not the point here. It’s just one of the factors that brought me to this point. Brought me to my knees.

SO, I want to give you my picture of HEAVEN and HELL. One night I had a dream. First I was shown into a room where there was a large group seated around a table. Their hands were chained together and each had a spoon with an extremely long handle. These people were not happy campers. They were emaciated, ugly, quarreling with each other. As I looked from face to face each one was darker than the last. The room was devoid of Joy. It was cold, sad and lonely. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Next, I was shown into another room. Here was another large group of people seated around a table. Their hands were chained together and each had a spoon with an extremely long handle. It was exactly like the last room EXCEPT here everyone was happy. They were smiling and joking with each other. You could see concern, no, love in their eyes for everyone around the table. These folks looked healthy, happy and content. It was obvious they had found Joy. This room was warm, comfortable and friendly. A place you never wanted to leave. I was perplexed.

I turned to my guide.  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Everything in each room is the same except for the people. I thought you were going to show me HEAVEN and HELL. This is some kind of a riddle and I hate riddles.”

At this point my guide took me back to the first room. A Large steaming pot of something that smelled delicious had been set in the center of the table. My mouth was watering the minute we stepped through the door. But, the scene in the room was chaos. These people were screaming and crying, scratching and clawing, hitting each other with their spoons and cursing. You see with their hands chained together and the long handled spoons they couldn’t reach the yummy smelling nourishment. They were starving in more ways than one. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

We now stood back at the door to the second room. I was afraid to enter. Once inside I smelled these same mouth watering scents waffling through the air. I was almost drooling; I wanted to partake so badly. Here there was no chaos. The feeling of peace, calm and love that I experienced earlier persisted. I looked to my guide wondering what the difference was. He nodded back to the group and I saw they had begun. They were dipping their log handled spoons into the pot and feeding each other.

There you have it, HEAVEN and HELL. They are the same. The difference is us. The difference is our attitude. Where do you live? Me, I’m heading on over to the other side.

Go take a look at the posts of these two courageous ladies. Know that I applaud them. It ain’t easy to ask for something. Go give what you can. Most times a hug is what’s needed.

Before somebody comes unglued at me, that dream was a story (probably famous, although I’ve only heard it once) that someone told me. I like to make it my own. For me it’s real.

I just had to get that off my chest.

Friday ~ January 6, 2012

Look what Santa brought me.

I am now officially armed and dangerous and this weekend is Carnivale. Supposedly this little guy is for the technologically impaired (me). So, I will have no problems. I've taken a few test drives around the living room and out on the deck. So far so good. Keep your fingers crossed that I come back with some awesome video for you next week. If not...well,if not I'll think of something.


Carnivale here isn't exactly Rio,but these Cruzans go all out. It's a blast. Our Christmas Holiday doesn't end until Carinvale is over. It's also Epiphany - Three Kings Day.


Happy weekend. I hope you're somewhere were 'thinking is optional'.

JANUARY 4,2012 ~ INSECURE WRITERS SUPPORT GROUP

Insecure Writers Support Group

I’ve been thinking about this for almost a week. There have been a few things recently that helped my insecurities. Let me tell you about them.

First – Two weeks ago I was struggling to finish up my WIP before the end of the year. I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t writer’s block, because I knew where I wanted to go, but something was keeping me from doing it. Then a friend, a really good friend it turns out, made a helpful suggestion on my blog that sent me over the edge. I sat at my computer and cried for about twenty minutes. But, when I was finished, I was ready to ‘open a vein, dip in, and write’. I put myself out there on the line and wrote some really good stuff.

My advice, don’t be afraid to let your emotions flow onto the paper. Honesty and emotion make the best stories, the most believable characters and an intriguing plot. In the end that’s what it’s all about isn’t it. Telling OUR stories. They aren’t necessarily your life story, but they do draw from your experience and your emotions. Or, at least, it seems they should. i realize a good cry is not what will evoke emotion for everyone (one of the guys told me this) but do whatever it takes for you personally.

Second – I’m working on my trust issues and I’ve joined a writing group. I know I need input from other writers. My first attempt at this is online. I applied to a group and was accepted. Hooray, I think. I promise myself that I'm going to jump right in, eyes wide open with no reservations (OK,maybe a few).

 Next I’m going to contact the writer’s group here on the island and hope I can force myself to do the same thing in person. That’s a whole lot more scary for me. Maybe, I’ll tell you more about it next month.

The No-Kiss Blogfest

    Here’s my entry to the ‘No Kiss Blog Fest’. When I first heard about this one I thought, “Are you kidding me?” It came up a few more times on other blogs I follow and my reaction was the say. Last week while finishing up my WIP, I wrote this scene. Holy crap, I wrote a ‘No Kiss Scene’. So here ya go.

 I’m back in her room before she gets there. She’s back in my arms before she comes through the door.”I’m sorry. I know this hurts you. Everett, let me help you. Help me,” she says as she’s unbuttoning my shirt.

      I just watch her hands work at each button. She pulls the shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. Next she peels the wool shirt over my head. I stare over her head as she looks at me and runs her hands over chest. I don’t think about the fact that she don’t feel nothin’ cause I feel enough for both of us.

     “Everett, why don’t you ever change? Your hair doesn’t grow or your beard. You always have the same clothes. Nothing about you changes,” she says.

     “’Cause I’m…” I try to say, but she puts her hand gently over my mouth before I can finish.

     “Not tonight. Everett, don’t be dead tonight, OK?” she asks.

     I just nod.

     “Wait right here. Stay right here like this. Please,’ she asks.

    I nod again.

     She leaves and I hear her bathing in the washroom. I stand there waiting, like I promised. I could wait years, like this, for her. When she comes back she’s wearin’ a robe tied up at her waist. She’s still drippin’ water from the bath.

     “Everett,” she says standing right in front of me, real close.

     “Yeah,” I say, lookin’ in her face and smilin’.

     “Everett, touch me. Please.” she asks.

     This ain’t no problem for me, until she opens the robe and lets it fall off her shoulders. Sandra Baker is standin’ there in front of me with only the air between us. In all her life I had plenty of chances to look at her naked, but I never took ’em. Any man wants a woman to come to him and offer herself, just like she did then. At that moment, I saw I wasn’t any man. I was a ghost, a memory of a man. I wasn’t real. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to take her and lay her down and make her mine forever. Right there lookin’ at her, thinkin’ I never saw nothin’ so beautiful, I knew it would be him and not me. I knew it should be him.

     She’s standin’ there lookin’ in my eyes. I see the love she feels for me, but I also see a love for life. I see a woman needin’ to be touched, needin’ to feel a man touch her. Just behind her eyes I see the love she has for him, too. It’s always there, winkin’ at me. Keepin’ me in my place. Lettin’ me know he’s alive and I’m not.

     It don’t matter none, I can’t help myself. I reach up and put my hand on her neck behind her head. I know she can’t feel it, but her head moves forward as I apply pressure. She takes a little step as I force her closer. I want to cry when I feel her breasts touch my chest. I lean my face in and tilt her head. I have to kiss her just this once. She don’t close her eyes like she does when she kisses him, ‘course if she don’t watch me she won’t know when our lips meet. Her face is so close to mine. She opens her mouth just a tiny little bit, and I feel her breath in my mouth. It’s almost like I can feel her heart beat in that breath. Like for that one instant my heart might beat again, too. Sandra closes her eyes. There isn’t a hair between our lips. I can feel the warmth of hers on mine, and yet I can’t press my mouth to hers. Why not? She won’t feel my kiss, and I’ll suffer an eternity rememberin’ this moment of not really havin’ her. I release her head and swiftly pull the robe back around her shoulders. Sandra opens her eyes and pulls me close. That’s when I know, she never knew I didn’t kiss her. That’s when I know I have got to give her back to Danny and go on.

     Sandra reaches her arms back around me, and I feel her press against my shoulder blades. For a minute I almost forget where I am, who I am. I almost forget about what is not going to happen and reach back for her head and to try to kiss her. Almost, but I don’t.

That's it. I'm anxious to read the others. If you're interested go to www.frankiediane.blogspot.com sign up or just enjoy the other posts. I wouldn't mind kind, helpful, and kind critiques of mine. (Just another shameless way to get help on my WIP.)