Celebrate The Small Things- Out of the Office

 

Thanks to Viklit for hosting!

Well, it's Friday and today I'm out surviving a friend's wedding.  (I'm writing this Thursday night, before heading off to a rehearsal dinner.)  So forgive me for taking a little longer than usual to stop by and celebrate with you all- I promise I will be around towards Sunday-Monday-ish.  But in the meantime, let's celebrate!

New Form  I finished learning Kong Sang Koon (a.k.a the mother of all Pyung Ahn forms) on Tuesday and it is awesome.  It's hard and there are a few moves that my brain can't quite make sense of yet in a "how the hell do I get my body to do that?" sort-of way but I've got the pattern down which is a big accomplishment.  Now, let me rep it out say, ten thousand times, and I'll get the hang of it.  And eventually, it'll look as cool as it looks when I watch other people perform it and then I'll really celebrate!

New Med Records OS  The new program for all of our clinical charting went live on Monday and it was, as expected, a nightmare.  There were documents that hadn't been built yet, critical functions that weren't working, overwhelming confusion and more calls to tech support than our hospital normally sees in a year.  BUT, and here's the celebration, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.  I was actually able to complete all the notes, treatment plans and census updates I needed to.  It took a whole lot of tech support but all of the consultants on campus were extremely nice and understanding, even when I called them for the third time that day.  And while it's still a long way from where we need it to be in order to do all our required documentation smoothly it's in significantly better shape than one might expect.  Plus the first week is always the hardest so that's a big reason to celebrate!

New Married Couple  If you're reading this Friday afternoon then there is a newly wed couple in the world celebrating- in a BIG way- their nuptials.  And I am celebrating with them.  'Nough said.

Well, that's it!  Now, as always, hop along!

---

1. Ninja Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh	2. Suzanne Furness The Word is. . .	3. Julie Flanders
4. tara tyler	5. J. A. Ward Writes	6. Lara Lacombe - Romance With an Edge
7. Life, yoga and other adventures	8. Charity Pence	9. Ink in the Book
10. My Baffling Brain	11. Scribbles From Jenn	12. Tyreans Writing Spot
13. Writing Off the Edge	14. Father Dragon Writes	15. Lexa Cain
16. Michelle @ Writer~In~Transit	17. The Write Game	18. Writers Mark
19. Entertaining Interests	20. Reading, Writing and Everything in Between	21. Effectively Human
22. Jen Naumann Author	23. Mary Pax	24. Diana Wilder - About myself, by myself. . .
25. Pasha, From Animal Shelter to A Sheltered Life	26. S. K. Anthony	27. Agenthood and Submissionville
28. Defending The Pen	29. Queendsheena	30. Bouquet of Books
31. Kidbits	32. A Good One	33. Black Coffee and Cigarettes
34. Mark Noce Stories	35. Putting Pen to Paper	36. Writers Block
37. Rebeccah Writes	38. Sisu Diaries	39. Debs Writing Room
40. Melanies Blog	41. Espirational	42. Heather Marshall -- writing, yoga, nature
43. melanie schulz	44. The Prosers	45. Shah Wharton's WordsinSync
46. Intentional Insights by S. Kelley Harrell	47. Creating Wordlenik	48. Cathy Keaton Writes, or Tries To
49. Simply Sarah	50. Today, I think. . .	51. Felicity Burnett (WR)
52. Janice Heck, My Time to Write	53. Inside The Artist's Mind	54. The Sock Zone
55. Brandy's Bustlings	56. M. J. Fifield	57. dreaming of publication
58. KenMaursCorner	59. Constantine	60. Nana Prah's Blog
61. BaMes Live	62. The Journey South	63. The Reluctant Author
64. Thoughts and Ideas from Deanie Humphrys-Dunne	65. Laugh Quotes	66. Shayla's TeaGarden
67. The Beveled Edge	68. Rossandra White	69. Writing's Not For Weenies
70. Vidya Sury, Going A-Musing, Collecting Smiles	71. Writeful Melodies	72. Sarah McCabe- Falling Toward Mythopoesis
73. Meredith's Musings	74. Sarah J. Clift

Awake

There were voices in the hallway, just beyond the door.  Whispering like mice in the attic, the sound of tiny footsteps in dust.  She tried to make out words, form some structure with the sounds.  But all her ears could pick up were the sharp S noises and elongated vowels.

She stared at the space under the door, the crack of light bleeding into the room.  Willing her mind to zoom in on the space like a camera lens.  She held her breath and the constraints pulled against her inflated chest as she strained her neck forward.

Fragments of the conversation filtered through.  Words like “disorganized” and “cognitive fluctuations” and, the one that came out most clearly, “delirium”.  Her brain stuck on the word as if it were made of flypaper and she rolled it around in her mind, hoping it would stick to something else that made sense.

Footsteps drew her attention back to the noises coming from behind the door.  There were more words she didn’t understand punctuated with numbers and measurements like “milligrams”.  She heard the door knob turn and watched strangers approach her.

“How are you feeling this morning Ms. Morris?” a man with white hair and small, rectangular glasses asked her as he walked in.  A short, squat man with a projecting bottom lip and furrowed brow followed him in. 

She stared at the small man with the face of a bulldog and a memory nibbled at the edge of her awareness.  It evaporated like dew on patio furniture when she concentrated.

“Ms. Morris?” the older man asked, raising his eye brows and smiling condescendingly.

She looked at him and tried to remember what he had asked her.  Her face itched and she lifted her hand to scratch it but her wrist caught on something.  She was instantly aware that her whole body was bound to the bed in safety restraints, the realization hitting her like a tidal wave.

 “Ms. Morris, do you know where you are?”

She looked up at the men, their starched white coats, their neckties and leather belts.  She pulled against the straps.  

“Do you know what day it is?” the older one tried again.

She fought against the restraints, her body trying to arch upwards.  Her back made a tent with her wrists and arms strapped down and she pushed upwards against the large strap across her chest.  She could feel the heavy fabric strain against her, holding her in the confines of the small hospital bed.  

The men were talking again but her panic drowned them out.  She thrashed violently, struggling to break free.  She noticed for the first time how much her wrists hurt, how her head ached.

Her focus narrowed down, blocking out the sound of people running in from the hallway, the scuffle of sneakers on the linoleum floor, the shouts and instructions.  She existed only in the strain of her body against her restraints.  And then, in the needle in her arm.

 

The Very Inspiring Blogger Award V. 2.0

My dear friend John over The Bathroom Monologues recently (well, not that recently) nominated me for my second Very Inspiring Blogger Award.  This one means an extra lot to me because John has long inspired me.  Back when I had just started this thing and no one knew it existed he was reading and commenting and  cheering me on like a head cheerleader.  And knowing that I could possibly inspire him is just amazing.  Thank you, John!

Anyways, like most of these memes, the rules are rather simple:
1) Display the award logo on your blog.  (Checkaroo!)
2) Link back to the person who nominated you.  (John is the best.  Please go tell him I said so!)
3) State 7 things about yourself.  (Comin' up- see below.)
4) Nominate several other bloggers for the award.  (At the end.)
5) Notify those bloggers of the nomination via comments.  (And boy, will I!)


OK, so 7 more random facts about me.  Here goes:
1)  I have four middle names.  Seriously, I'm not kidding.  My birth certificate is a whopping six names long.  My father's name, funnily enough, is also six names long.  Seems it's a family tradition.
2)  I had my first poem published in 4th grade, in the school newspaper.  It rhymed (of course) and was titled "The Beautiful Butterfly".  You can probably guess what it was about.
3)  I am 5'8".  My height has always been one of the few physical characteristics that I was always pleased with.  Though it does get awkward when I'm standing around other women who are much shorter than I.
4)  I grew up playing pinochle with my parents.  I'm actually pretty good at it, though I don't play often.
5)  I once went to school wearing an octopus on my head (it was a stuffed animal, of course).  I wore it around all day and reveled in the weird looks I received.
6)  I don't wear makeup.  Not for political reasons like protesting animal testing or anything like that.  Just cause I'm too lazy.  For the most part, anything more than combing my hair and putting pants on is too much work.
7)  When I was a kid, I excelled at getting hit in the head with things in gym class.  I've been hit in the head with: a basketball, soccer ball, softball, tennis ball, badminton birdie and rosin bag (which, to be fair, my friend got yelled at for throwing rather than handing to me).  Thank goodness bowling was never a subject we covered in gym.


And now, the nominees!  I'm going to copy John and nominate three people for the award.
1)  Mark Koopmans  Whether he's covering WWII vets or Holocaust survivors he is amazingly inspiring.
2)  Charmaine Clancy  I'm reading her book Dognapped? right now and absolutely loving it.  She's a great example of how to be successful at writing what you love.
3)  D.L. Hammonds Cause today is another blitzing day because of him.  Cause he's organizing Write Club which is going to be amazing.  Cause he's leading the charge of spreading blog love all over the internet.  Just awesome.


And now I'm off to contact these awesome bloggers and let them know that, if they choose, they've got another little badge to proudly display wherever they would like.  Please go check them out, and really do say hi to John because he's the bestest!

Ruins

I awoke

exhausted and nauseous.

Your words still replaying 

on the surface of my mind.

Not just last night’s

but the ruins of other failed conversations-

One after the other

stretching back years

like broken columns

and headless statues.

Marking the wars

that we've waged.

And your statement

that this was the same fight,

with the same lack of resolution,

leading to panic

and a sense of shame

greater than myself.

Writers 4 Writers and Ebook Launch Event

Hosted by M Pax, Stephen Tremp, Christine Rains, C M Brown

Writers helping other writers to succeed.

Twitter hashtag: #W4WS

Find W4Ws on Facebook

Writers for writers is an initaive to help bring awareness to newly published authors and their books.  They congregate the third Monday of every month to promote 1-3 authors.  Ckick on any of the hosts above to learn more!

Today Writers for writers is featuring Marta Szemik over at  her blog http://martaszemik.blogspot.com/ and showcasing her Two Halves series of books.  Marta is a mom, wife, blogger and author whose Two Halves series features paranormal romance at its best.

Right now, the first book in the series, Marked, can be downloaded for FREE by clicking here! 

Shapeshifter Xander will remain stuck in oblivion between good and evil until he is marked—either with the sphere that will identify him as a servant of the underworld or with the water mark, working for the keepers of humans, vampires, and warlocks.

One decision will mark him and his twin sister Mira equally. She is in love with a man bearing the water mark and wants Xander to follow the path of the good. But Xander loves a black witch, a minion of the underworld. All he has to do to join her forever is kill.

After all, there's something good about being bad.

Please go check out Marta, download her book, and then tweet/facebook about it to help spread the word!

~

But wait- that's not all!  Today I'm also featuring Jessica O'Gorek over at her blog Gemini Rising!  Her book is being launched in Ebook form and you can enter to win a free copy!

BEWARE! THE PLANET IS WOUNDED... THE GEMINI ARE RISING AND OUR TIME ON EARTH IS LIMITED Angry at the human race and its methodical destruction of her resources, Mother Earth recruits souls who have just left their bodies to serve Her, and turns them against humanity. Gemini, a clan of paranormal beings, picked from these possessed humans, emerges. A powerful, rising force proceeds to carry out Mother Nature’s plan to systematically destroy towns, cities, states… and eventually, the world. Amidst the chaos, a forbidden relationship between a human girl, Violette, and Onyx, a lead Gemini, begins. They will both find themselves in the middle of a revolutionary war that will either save, or destroy our world.

Come to the Gemini Rising Facebook Ebook Launch event today for a chance to win a signed copy of Gemini Rising, a signed art graphic, post card of Onyx and Violette, and a book marker! For every 5 ebooks sold there will be a $5.00 gift card for a random winner!!!
https://www.facebook.com/events/665755570107865/?context=create

Check out Jessica and enter the drawing to win a free Ebook and other goodies and then spread the word on facebook!

My Favorite Meal

In honor of father's day, a story about my father...

My father’s chicken noodle soup isn’t really what I would classify as food.  It’s more of an experience.  The kind-of meal that occupies all of my senses and causes my mind to string together a long line of stories.  Years of family traditions and shared Sunday afternoons all connected through the scent of chicken and freshly cut vegetables.  The kind-of dinner that makes me lose track of time- not hours, not days, but years.

My father boils the chicken first, letting the juices seep into the broth and bond them with the flavor.  The scent of it fills the whole house and I find my mouth watering when I’m not paying attention.  Watching him cut the vegetables, I can trace the line of my grandmother’s hands as she guided his in her own kitchen so many years before.  The legacy of his family told through recipes and ingredients.  

I imagine the stories she would have told him, of the long, hard winters my great grandparents faced in Siberia and the warmth they would have felt from a hot bowl of soup.  If I look closely I can see the lines of her smile on his face when he laughs.  I would sit and watch my father work, my imagination running wild with fur-clad iron men riding horses through the frozen tundra and large, matronly women warming their stone kitchen floors with ashes.

The noodles come last, rather an afterthought when the food is done.  You have to keep them separate, my father warns me, lest they soak up the flavor from the broth.  He fills my bowl for me.  Even when I am older, I ask him to do it.  It tastes better that way.

And when I spoon that first bite into my mouth, my whole body warms.  It’s as if a light has been sparked inside of me and I feel it spread outwards, settling into the tips of my fingers and toes.  I smile at my father, at this feeling he has given me, as he asks me “How is it?”

I tell him it’s delicious.  It tastes like love.

Six Word Saturday: Fake It 'Till You Make It

This is my first time borrowing the brilliant idea of Cate over at Show My Face who challenges you to write a story about your life in just six words.  It's such a great idea, I don't know why I haven't done it sooner.  Go check it out to learn more.

My words this week are Fake it till you make it.  It's a phrase heard often in my profession (I'm a drug and alcohol counselor).  What it means when we say it to our clients is that all behavior change is difficult.  We humans, confounding things that we are, tend to choose the familiar.  Even if the familiar is about the worst thing we could possibly do.  So new, healthy behaviors- simply by virtue of being new- are ALWAYS uncomfortable when we first do them.  We'll choose to walk barefoot through broken glass if we've never worn a pair of shoes before, just because the shoes are uncomfortable when we first put them on.

So what to do?  Fake it till you make it.  Act as if you are comfortable when you're so very not.  Act as if you know what the hell you're doing when you haven't the foggiest idea.  Play the part of the person who is competent in the task, and then you will gain competence.  Because we learn by experience.  Pretty straight forward, right?

These words apply very frequently in my own life.  One of the most obvious ways is karate.  When I first start to learn a form, it feels weird.  As amazing as it appears when other people do it it's always awkward when you try it yourself.  Cause, you know, your body doesn't normally move that way.  Crane stances are not something I encounter in everyday life.

So, I fake it.  I get the pattern, try to think through the physics of what my body is supposed to be doing, and then rep it out.  The first few times, it feels (and looks, I'm sure) a mess.  My balance is off, my steps are clunky, my hand is not where it's supposed to be.  But as I keep doing it, it starts to make sense.  My body- not my mind, that just get is the way- starts to figure it out.  My hips torque the way they're supposed to.  My head settles over my hips.  My wrists start to stay straight and the form starts to look the way it's supposed to look.  Every now and again I get an excited comment from my instructor letting me know it's coming together and I start to realize that I may actually have a clue as to what i'm doing.  Competence.

It's something that applies here as well.  Most of these posts- heck, all of these posts- are experiments.  I don't know how the hell they're going to turn out when I start writing them.  I've given up the belief that if I do it right they will be as good as the truly brilliant thoughts I had in my head- cause it's never gonna happen.  My thoughts will ALWAYS be better than reality because the constraints of reality do not apply to them.  But when I write anyway I tend to make something better.  Not because it took effort to create, and not because it brings my voice to life.  No, it's better for one reason alone: it exists.

My thoughts, amazing things that they are, are just thoughts.  They come and go faster than I can make head or tail of them.  But my writing?  Well, it's there.  I can change it, edit it, take it in another direction and share it with the world.  And you know what I've learned about the world?  It can never be as harsh to me as I can be to myself.  Meaning that I always get better responses about my writing from others than I do from myself.  Always.

It's enough to make one believe they actually know what they're doing.

So, I fake being a writer in the hopes of one day being a writer.  I fake being an amazing martial artist in hopes of one day becoming an amazing martial artist.  I fake being comfortable with conflict when my heart feels like it's going to explode out of my chest.  I fake being comfortable in large social gatherings when my mind races with insecurities.  I fake being a person perfectly at peace with life when I'm quite sure i'll never know what the hell this whole thing is all about it.  And along the way, I actually pick up a few things.

I learn, I grow, I improve.  And maybe I'll never be an "expert", maybe I'll never be "the Best".  But I will be better.  And better is the greatest feeling in the world.