trying something new

When fishdog and I split up, the one thing I lost in the divorce that I really miss is his webmaster abilities. He never really did anything for me in a timely manner, but at least he did his work for free.

Being on a limited income (meaning, I’d rather spend my money on booze, blackjack and hookers) I’ve decided to do the logical thing and point my website toward my wordpress blog…because even a thumbless monkey can manage wordpress.

I’ve updated the site a teensy bit. I plan to start blogging more about my summer adventure toward clean eating and my attempt to add yoga to my regimen Of course, there will still be many shenanigans, some sparkle, lots of wine, women, and wanderlust. I mean, I am kinda awesome, so things aren’t really gonna change that much around here.

I guess this is just kinda like rearranging the living room for a different view.

If you guys have anything you wanna see or talk about, give me a shout!

Otherwise, I’ll see you bitches tomorrow!

if you're sexy and you know it

the weekend in review

House: Cleaned
Laundry: Unwashed
Boxes: half unpacked
Taxes: work in progress
Weather: Un-freaking-believably Awesome
Friends: Luckiest girl in the world
Easter: Juciest turkey ever and a trampoline

This was a bit of an emotional weekend. Many of you know that Fishdog and I have been separated for almost a year. (We’re still great friends and I have no desire to air my private business in this blog, but since I’m moving, etc. I thought I’d let y’all know the circumstances. /divorcetalk) This weekend, I started moving into the new bachelorette pad. It’s a tiny little cottage that I’ve been cleaning, painting, and sweating over for the past 3 months. (Not quite sure how I’m gonna share 1 bathroom with 2 teen boys, but we’ll figure it out…) The move is mostly complete, now I’ve just got to finish unpacking and move all the personal items over, like clothing.

The clothing thing for me is a difficult task because I need to go through it all. I’ve lost enough weight that most of my clothing doesn’t fit anymore. This is a great problem to have…except that since I’m still only working part time, I’m not going to be spending any money on new clothes. But this weekend, I got lucky…it just so happens that one of my BFFs has been losing weight, too. And it just so happens that she can no longer wear a ton of her clothing…and it just so happens that we’re both hour glass shaped…and it just so happens that the clothes she’s undergrown are the right size for me!

I think I inherited 12 new dresses! OMG. And they’re all so damn cute! Just like me! I have a whole new wardrobe!! and a new house! and a new attitude! and… and I’m all out of new…

Anyway, this is a new beginning for me. A new phase in my life and I’m ready to take it on…and now I can do it in style thanks to my Fairy Clothing Godmother…

the apple (of my eye) does not fall far from the tree

When Nemo was born, he was my spittin’ image. (or is that spitten?) Seriously, you could barely tell our baby faces apart. He has my eyes, which are pretty distinct in shape…not big, but slanty and very blue. (His are actually gray now, go figure)

As a toddler, the resemblance remained. We’d get the occasional, “He looks just like Fishdog” but we ignored those people because Nemo looked exactly like me…and we had the pictures to prove it. Hell, we had the same teeth. It was freaky.

Fast forward to now. I’ve noticed him changing here and there. The deeper voice, the hairy pits, the lanky walk. Typical teenage stuff. But lately, I’ve noticed something even more disturbing. His looks are morphing. He’s shifting from my image to his dad’s. It’s bizarre.

And it was never more obvious than this morning, when he put on a bowtie for school (yes, they wear ties…and he thought it would be funny to wear a bowtie…No he’s not Fishdog’s child at all). I took his picture because he was too damn cute for words. When I downloaded it, I realized, that was the young face of my husband staring back at me.

peppermint flavored aweome

This plus coffee makes me a happy girl in the morning.

My husband? Not so much today. I wish I could mix him with some peppermint mocha and make him awesome flavored. Right now he’s annoying flavored.

I think he just enjoys irritating me in the mornings. Actually, I think he enjoys irritating everyone in the family. It’s like he wakes up thinking “What is the one thing I can do to each of the members of the family in the next five minutes that will make them want to stab me in the eye.” And then he does whatever thing his warped brain thinks of.

He better be glad I don’t have a sharp utensil in my hand or else I would totally stab him in the eye.

The boy had a cheap car, no money, but great hair…

That was the headline of the article in Sunday’s Arkansas Democrat Gazette…What a headline, right?

We thought so…especially since it was the headline for the story of how I met Fishdog.

Yup, we were in the paper on Sunday. It was awesome. Here’s a link for the whole article.

Here’s a little taste:

“There has always been sort of a six degrees of separation thing between Mark and me,” says Melissa, who went to high school in Bryant and who had friends who knew Mark, a student at Little Rock’s Catholic High School. “Our circle of friends was kind of parallel.”

On the night they finally did meet, Jan. 24, 1992, Melissa was on a date with one guy and was plagued by the unwanted attentions of another.

Mark had graduated from Arkansas State University at Jonesboro the December before and just moved back to Little Rock. He had seen Melissa, a student at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock, the night before with her friends at White Water Tavern, but she was having too much fun then to notice him.

When he walked through the door at Juanita’s, though, she was all agog.

“I just remember being very smitten,” Melissa says. “It was his hair — which is really funny, considering he has none now. Back then it was long. He had a confidence about him, and he had a great smile and a great laugh, which I love.”

Heh. He was a guy and I was agog.

The best part of the article? (besides all the cutesy lovey-dovey stuff?) They plugged BITE ME! 🙂 It was really cool seeing myself called a ‘novelist’ and then reading

Her first book, Bite Me!, is scheduled to hit bookstore shelves in fall 2009.


Here is the picture that appeared in the paper Sunday…
(c)1993 Franklin Washburn Photography

and here is the happy couple now. Hmmmm. Not quite the same. My, my 15.5 years of marriage sure does a number on folks…

Today in the blogosphere:
Today I’m at Fictionistas discussing the postmortem of Mel-O-Ween

Yesterday I blogged at FatChicksRunning! about Week 2, Day 1 of training…and today, Dana is talking about jogging at 10:20 PM. That’s dedication folks…

website, spiders and stephen colbert

WEBSITE UPDATE: We were experiencing some technical difficulties from my contact page, but it is working again now. If you have sent me an email through the contact page, please resend. I didn’t get it. Thanks!

Just in case I wasn’t clear enough yesterday, I hate spiders.

It doesn’t matter what the actual ‘species’ is…it will fall into three categories:

Black Widow
Brown Recluse

Fishdog was so tickled by me yesterday, that he spent half of the night looking up different spiders and asking me what type it was. It was always one of the above three.

Thanks for the outpouring of support. I am calm and collected now. However, I will not be checking the mail anytime soon. *shudder*

Last night…this made me feel so much better. I heart The Colbert Report

the worst thing ever to happen to me today

Okay look. I hate spiders. I do. They freak me the fuck out. Give me a snake any day over a creepy crawly hairy freaky big little spider.

Which brings me to the most horrible thing ever to happen to me. Well, most horrible thing ever to happen to me today.

I had gone grocery shopping. I was a good momma. I did my duty and even used my recycled shopping bags. I get home and Fishdog comes out to help me unload the groceries. Nice guy, right?

Don’t let those manners fool you. My husband is anything but nice. He is, in fact, responsible for the most horrible thing ever to happen to me today.

We had taken our first load of bags in. I stepped over to the mailbox. I open the mailbox and put my hand inside. No mail. I close the mailbox. Fishdog is standing next to me. He says, “Already got it and hey watch out for the spider that’s living in there.”

I didn’t hear him correctly. Right? Cuz that would mean he had let me stick my hand inside the mailbox inhabited by a living arachnid. So I glance over at the mailbox and this is what I saw:

not actual spider. In reality not actual size either. But whatever.

This big fucking nasty hairy leg creeped its way out of the mailbox. I went into shock. I started screaming like a big old baby. I ran into the house and called Fishdog some names that I know would make a marine blush.

IT WAS IN THERE WITH MY HAND. It touched me. I know it did.

As a matter of fact, it’s still on me. I can feel it.

I had a Ricky Bobby moment. I stripped down to my underwear and yelled, “Sarah Palin work your moose-huntin’ magic and shoot that hairy beast! If you do, I swear I’ll vote for you.”

How could my husband, the man who supposedly loves me, let me stick my hand in a veritable nest of tarantulas? Why didn’t he kill the spider before I ever knew it was there? I may never be able to check the mail again.

So then I demanded asked Fishdog, kill that fucking thing before I die a little more inside Would you kindly do away with that venomous and deadly creature?

Instead of killing it, he set it free.

Folks, this is not the PETA headquarters. We kill spiders here. I don’t care if they eat mosquitoes or lay golden eggs. If you’re a spider, you get killed in my house. That’s the understood rule. Or at least it has always been…until now.

He let the fucker go in the front yard. And I know it’s working its way back to the mailbox because it laid 1 million-billion-katrillion baby spider eggs in there and it wants to be present when they are born and begin their take over of Chez Francis.


And that folks, is the most horrible thing ever to happen to me. Today.


Yesterday was busy. I finished a proposal, finished some edits and finished chapter one of Love Sux! the follow-up story to Bite Me! By the time evening rolled around, my mind was knackered.

Today’s blog is some basic housekeeping. Mainly because my house is in major need of keeping and that’s what I plan to do.

  1. The comment issue has been fixed on my blog. Now you can go to the ‘permalink’ or directly from the RSS feed and comment. Big thanks to Chrissy and Fishdog for their work on fixing that mess.
  2. Kitteh (aka, Kristen Painter) has interviewed fashion model and author Carol Alt today over at Fictionistas. Get thee over there and read it. Then comment. There’s a book to be won here!
  3. Have you checked your facts today? Both campaigns stretch and distort the truth and sometimes they flat out lie. But tells you what’s true. Which lies can you live with? Which truths are closer to your heart?
  4. I have been totally in a Staind mode this past weekend. Like to the point that I’ve memorized all of their songs on their Chapter V album. (Which is seriously the best album ever. Their song PLEASE gets to me in a big way.) Plus at least two of their songs are included on my playlist for three different stories. I heart Staind. I plan to buy their new album today. Illusion of Progress
  5. Now that I think about it, every one of the books I’ve written has had a scene in it that was inspired by a Staind lyric. Maybe I should write them a letter.

Okay, that about sums up my housekeeping for the day. Perfect timing…since I’ve got to run the kids to school.

BTW: My kid is doing a fundraiser with Ugly Mug Coffee which you guys know I’ve touted and tweeted on several occasions. If you’re interested in helping us out and trying a great coffee, email me!

For your enjoyment, another song of the Chapter V album that I love. Couldn’t find a video for Please…

Find more videos like this on STAIND

manic monday…

I’m still beating the horse over at Fictionistas. This time with More Links!

So I told y’all that Fishdog and Nemo did the paintball thing yesterday. Holy shit they came back all bruised up. And they were dressed head to toe in fatigues. Nemo even had on a 2nd pair of pants underneath is fatigues.

Behold the madness. Will somebody please explain to me how this paintball thing can possibly be fun?